As Phillias explained what earned him his wound, Anarys shook his head in reprobation "Wrong timing or wrong execution on your part ? If you want to leave without being allowed, either you do it when you've a reason to be out, or do it when you're reasonably sure you won't get caught doing it. First one is easy but you can't take much with you. Second is a bit harder but lets you take more. A third option would be to use a diversion..."

Anarys couldn't finish his explanations as some incident panicked the crowd. The slim breton climbed to a wall to have a look at the cause and reported it to be a fire. Anarys cursed as he saw the volume of smoke and the speed of it's spread. I've seen enough fires to tell that one isn't an accident. Too quick. With the foreigners packed in here, it will make things worse than with dunmer, fire don't hurt and panic as much as the other races. But I don't think I can make it to the fighter's guild soon enough to make it worth anything. So long for work and training, and time to leave...
"eaving sounds like a good idea." As he spoke his gaze quickly evaluated the possible exits. Finally settling for risky, but quick solution. Which Phillias seemed agile enough to follow "We're on the outer walkway, the fastest way out isn't east. It's down." Pointing with his hand to the empty space.

Without wasting time, Anarys bent over the paraqet, estimating the height. Doable, but very hard on the landing. Stone paving isn't exactly soft. "We'll climb down the buttress. The way you climbed that wall, you'll manage. Take of your shoes and go first, I'll sent them with your gear and mine then follow."
Using the hazardous - but fast - solution turned out to be quicker for two peoples than one by speeding the transfer of possessions. A descent during which Phillias displayed a surprising skill with climbing, forcing Anarys to magically improve his own skills to keep up. I've grown soft with the easy jobs in Vivec. Or maybe I'm getting old for this sort of tricks.

Several hours later, Arena Canton

Having left the Foreign Quarter in due time tanks to Phillias, Anarys had felt somewhat obliged to him. A feeling he wasn't exactly fond of, especially when he had spotted a badly battered stuffed toy amongst the man's scarce belongings. Which did nothing to bolster his opinion of the boy. Anarys couldn't think of him as a man, despite his age.
As a consequence Anarys had dragged him along to settle down for the day in on of the Area canton's tavern to wait until things would settle down. A tavern he had picked with care to make sure none of the Foreign Quarter refugees was likely to show up. There he had spent the day to get rid of his feeling of obligation by discussing with Phillias, probing and teasing to figure him out. And to determine the best way to get rid of his feeling. Preferably without getting rid of Phillias in a lethal fashion in the process.

Arena Canton, close to noon

His stomach was growling like an orc, not only because it was noon, more so because he felt upset about what he had been through this morning. The thing that was troubling Philias the most, though, was how much he had enjoyed the escape. Not the hammock the made them flee, mind you, but the sheer camaraderie and teamwork of the little adventure. The fear had done wonders to his climbing skills, that's for sure, it had been years since he had done something like this and not even in his wildest dreams, he would have thought he could still do it.

The Dunmer, Anarys, seemed a bit uncomfortable with the situation, them sitting here in some god-forgotten tavern. The tickle in his heart came back, but trying to make the Dunmer not feel even more awkward, he controlled his smile, only leaving his bright, hazel eyes in joy. They talked, first just a continuation of their life stories in which Philias told him practically everything: from his parents, the Bosmer circus and his failed career as a scholar. He didn't say anything about Mr. Cuddles though, how would that look in conversation? After all was said, or all they wanted to say, they began to reflect on Vivec's current situation. First of all, there was this Pure cult, tried to be kept out of the city by all the Houses' might, but their followers seemed to be everywhere. Philias didn't know much of them, his master refused to tell him about them. "Some oddity, like there has always been one." he'd say to get out of the subject. Anarys would know for sure? - Of course there was also the fire, and - so they heard from one of the other tables - some trouble amongst the Houses concerning thefts of some sort.


OOC: Manu, native English speaker?

[No, my native language is French ? did I use enough Gallicisms (borrowing from French) to make it obvious ?]
Upon hearing Phillias's life story, Anarys had a better grasp of the man's odd behavior. But he would have expected more streetsmarts and spine from such a background. "One thing to remember is that usually you don't get what you deserve. Sure sometimes the Nines or one daedra prince or another poke his nose around to reward the worthy and punish the wicked ? according to his own idea of just and wicked of course. But most of the time you get what you grab for yourself and are good - or lucky - enough to hold on. Tiber Septim is a good example of that. Oh sure one can argue he was marked by destiny, favored by the Divines and all that. But basically he grabbed his luck by the balls and squeezed hard enough to force it to sing to his tune. Of course being damn good as his trade didn't hurt either."

Which colored his opinions about the Pure. "I don't know for sure what they're aiming at. But I've already met their sort. Usually I don't give a rat's fart about what one is worshiping, only about how that worship will affect me. If some idiot want to freeze his backside atop a mountain, drinking melted snow and nibbling frozen roots, he's welcome to do it. But I know how I want to lead my live well enough to dispense with any advice from him.
But their discourse about what's not their worship is weak, they're the only true faith and such crap means that sooner or later they're going to try forcing their notion of what is a good way to live down everyone else's throat. The Houses know that too, that's why they've tried to stomp on them."

"I only once saw any of these Pure in public, it was that Ravu himself. Of course, it could have been anyone, even his eyes didn't peer through the darkness beneath his cloak. I think Ravu died during the Oblivion crisis and that's why they're acting so sinister ever since. Anyway, the speaker - whoever he was - acted more like someone wanting something than a preacher." Philias could know, it was the same kind of pose Meldil, the circus director, would take after a show, telling the crowd what a wonderful audience they had been and how he was delighted and proud to have brought this performance to them... while all he really wanted was a coin in his hand. - Philias was raised well, however, and would not judge people on first encounter.

"It seems like this could end the Great Council. With this newest incident between the Houses, I doubt there will be any further will to cooperate. A strange story, by the way. What an odd chance that the three Houses planned to make move against each other at the same time... of course, taken in perspective of the last few weeks, the chances of such a thing have never been higher... still...


OOC: You used a varied vocabulary, of course the similarities between French and English could explain that. Still, nice writing (apart from the odd typo here and there).

Listening to Phillis as he exposed his impression of Ravu, Anarys found it matched his suspicions. Though one might misjudge, especially someone hiding his expression behind bandages. "I can't tell - I've never listened to their speeches. But sincere or not, I don't like their chosen name. Or more accurately it's implications. If you're Pure, it means the others aren't. But you view that purity as something desirable. Which means you'll have to keep away from those impure, lest they soil you. Or rather, as it's such a good thing, to ensure the other became pure too. For their own good of course. And I they don't comply, it means they're actively enjoying their filth, are enemies of the very purity you're embodying.
The end result is the sort of convert or die monomania demonstrated by the Marukhati. Who did their best to break the world, never doubting their ability to put it back together in a fashion to their liking. Where nothing is wrong enough that it can't be whitewashed with the the nobility of your intentions."

Anarys paused a short while "which means I will never be friendly with their ilk. Because in whatever ideal world they've set their gaze upon, there's no room for a diehard individualist like me. Seeing that sort of crackpots, their eyes firmly set on their pet fantasy, I feel the need to be the carpet they stumble up to get back in touch with realty. The harder the better."

As the hour was advancing and hunger and thirst started showing up, Anary ordered a light meal for two and a bottle of shein to accompany it.

"My opinion is that there's something fishy with those thefts. But the Houses don't need that to to jump at each other's throats. All they need is the conviction they'll come out on top. That's almost a national dunmer pastime, to the point it won't calm down even when it's totally stupid. The 'I don't care what sort of damage pressing that feud will inflict on us. As long as in the end those bastards of House Whatever are even an inch deeper down than us in the garbage pile it's worth it.' That's why Morrowind needs the Empire now that the Tribunal is gone. It's both something you can hate more than the dunmer next door, and the big brother who comes in to slap everyone when things gets too noisy."

Quick-Tail, Arena District

Quick-Tail and Aylia strode through the crowd of people in the district. Hundreds of people had fled the foreign quarter into the arena, and Quick-Tail sometimes had to push his way through the crowd in order to advance. He held on to Aylias hand, much to Aylias argument, so he wouldn't loose her in the crowd. At least he was holding her hand though, which was nice. And judging from the way she held his hand, she liked it too. Which was good. Quick-Tail gave a small smile at the thought that he was holding Aylias hand, but quickly came back to the issue present. Aylia had mentioned a Tavern nearby, and hopefully they could get awnsers there.

They rounded the corner, and it was much less crowded. This apparently was a tavern renowned for theives and attracting the ne'er-do-well citizens of Vivec. Odd that he had never heard of this place before. Aylia opened the door and walked in first, Quick-Tail followed closely behind. The whole tavern smelled like sweaty warriors, gamblers gambled at tables despite what was going on around the,m, and the bartender was arguing with a man in bonemold armour. Quick-Tail took another sniff, and realized he and Aylia smelled like sewers. Probably because thats where they had spent the last two hours trying to escape the Ordinators. Thankfully, it looked like no self-respecting ordinator would come here.

Taking another scan around the Tavern, he saw a young Brenton who apperared to be a schola and a well kept dunmer warrior who appeared to be in his late 40's talking at a table. Quick-Tail turned to Aylia.

"Over there. They look like they may talk to us and not try and kill us at the same time." Quick tail stated as he pointed to thier table. Aylia sighed, "I dont think anyone will kill you in here, Tail, but your probably right. They probably know something helpful." Quick-Tailo laughed, "Aylia, youve known me for long enough to know im usually right." Aylia shook her head as the two pulled up chairs and sat by the two men.

"Hey, Im Quick-Tail and this is my friend, Aylia. We have been, well," Quick-Tail laughed at how ridiculous he was about to sound, "in the sewers hidign for a while, and we really dont know what all is going on in the city. Can you, uh, fill us in?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean. The Houses have a great entertainment value, if you will."

The door to the tavern opened, letting in the horrible noise of dozens of people talking in excitement. With it, an Argonian and a Bosmer were thrown in, luckily closing the door behind them and letting the tavern return to it's peaceful calmth. They came to the table.

"Hey, Im Quick-Tail and this is my friend, Aylia. We have been, well," the Argonian had to grin, "in the sewers hidign for a while, and we really dont know what all is going on in the city." Philias looked at Anarys. Spare us the details of what you two did there. he thought. "Can you, uh, fill us in?" the Argonian continued.

"The Foreign Quarter went up in flames, we wouldn't know where the fire cam from, but it sure spread fast. Also, there is trouble between the Houses over some thefts. We can't really tell you more, we're pretty much left in the dark ourselves."

"Ahh. I Heard about the thefts..." Quick-Tail said. Of course I knew about them. I did them. "and the Foreign quarter too. But do you have any idea who could be responsible for this? Who could have the manpower to turn Vivec into hell before sundown?" Quick Tail asked. He also wanted to know for antother reason. He was almost sure whoever hired them for those thefts were also responsible for everything else.

I was used in order to destroy Vivec. Wonderful... I must find whoever did this and stop him.

narys raised a suspicious eyebrow when two people sat down at their table. An argonian and a bosmer woman. Their attire and attitude didn't yell 'thief' aloud, but nonetheless suggested it strongly. A suspicion confirmed as they asked for new, having hidden themselves in the sewers for a while. I might be unduly harsh ? smugglers aren't thieves proper and they too like the sewers.

Once Phillias had told them a first sample of the news, he added some complements. "The sewers aren't exactly the best place to gather fresh news on Vivec's daily life". Slightly accenting the word 'daily' to hint he didn't think them to be exactly law-abiding citizens. While making a seemingly idle gesture, that anyone linked with the Thieve's Guild would recognize to mean 'I'm not Guild, but I won't interfere with your business'. Something he had picked from meeting spies, saboteurs and other seldom mentionned additions to the art of war.

He kept speaking without adding further signs or special emphasis. "I've see enough fires to be almost sure the Foreign Quarter has been deliberately torched. It spread too fast to have started with a single fire. The Quarter's mostly masonry, a fire shouldn't spread much in the beginning. With the thefts in their vaults as a pretext and the spreading of the refugees I wouldn't be surprised if the Houses decided to go for something stupid. The conditions are almost ideal for hidden strikes. The crowd of displaced refugee can provide some desperate muscle, an effective cover to move and a convenient scapegoat for the damage. And keeping the Ordinators busy as a bonus."

Anarys grimaced in disgust "Even if the ambitious cretins leading the House's dance figure out someone torched the Foreign Quarter, they'll probably be too happy with their found horse to take a good look at it's teeth. Maybe I'm warped into a mean an suspicious sort, but if some third party covertly gives what looks like a perfect opportunity to spring an nasty surprise on my enemy, it's seldom for my own good."

When Quick-Tail asked about a possible suspect, Aranys thought a bit before answering "If Helseth was still Morrowind's king, he would have been my first choice. Ruthless, and devious enough to drive his ennemies to shred themselves for him. The Houses current leaders couldn't pull that off. Too busy with petty schemes and gold-snatching. The Temple... no. They wouldn't mind seeing the Houses bled dry and never thought much of the Foreign Quarter, but wouldn't endanger the whole city. Can't be the Empire either, the current divided mess suits them fine. My money would be on who or whatever torched the Temple."

Quick-Tail looked at the two men across the table carefully, while also trying to avoid seeeming like he was paying much attention to them. He turned and waved for a drink, some Brandy for himself and Flinn for Aylia. He turned and took a sip of his beverage, feeling the cold, tasty liquid cascade down his throat. He put the bottle down gently and looked at the men again. The brenton seemed innocent enough, and seemed bewhildered by the recent events. The duunmer, on the other hand, seemed hardened, and didnt seem to have the immidiate trust that the brenton seemed to have. ill have to watch my words carefully around that dunmer

Aylia spoke up, "Well, whoever did this, one thing is for certain: this city is rapidly degrading, and we need a way out. city is on lockdown, which means leaving this city, if you can get past the ordinators, is a death sentence. So, were trapped. Like rats. And quite frankly, 4 people as a team works better than two." Aylia leaned forward and looked at the two men and smiled, "So what do you two say? Should we stick together through this whole mess?"

Quick-Tail's eyes widened at Aylia's offer. Whoooh. We came in here for information, not travelling partners. these guys will slow us down. And if they find out that we commited those thefts... Well, people would have to get hurt. And Quick Tail wasnt in for more people getting hurt than needed.

But... Aylia had a point. It was safer in numbers. And they still needed to find Trihas, and Quick-Tail still wanted awnsers on what was going on. And the brenton looked like a capable mage, and the Dunmer seemed like he could handle himself in a fight, or a war. Might as well go with Aylia.

Quick-Tail smiled. "So what do ya say? Travel together? Were gonna need to know your names if your gonna be helping us get out of here alive too." Quick-Tail laughed, And Aylia took a delicate sip of her drink.

The female Bosmer, who had left the parole to her Argonian friend, leaned forward and said: "So what do you two say? Should we stick together through this whole mess?" It appeared like none of the three men had counted on that as it was followed by a brief moment of silence and wild eyeing. Eventually the Argonian seemed to have made up his mind and said: "So what do ya say? Travel together? Were gonna need to know your names if your gonna be helping us get out of here alive too." He laughed.

Philias was thrilled by the prospect of trodding along all day with this group and he began to wiggle on his chair uncontrollably. However, he was aware the Dunmer would probably be less enthusiastic, so he bit his lip before dragging Anarys into such an adventure.

"Why don't you tell us your names first?" he said eventually, figuring the Dunmer would only be too be happy with some extra time to mull things over.

Quick-Tail noticed the brenton seemed kind of excited by Aylias offer. wow. i was almost certain we would get shot down. But, somehow, we didnt. "No Harm in that i suppose." Quick-tail took another sip of his brandy and put it back down. "My names Quick-Tail, and this is Aylia."

Aylia gave one of her beautiful smiles, "Charmed to meet you two". Huh. If it were just me, i dont think these two would even consider helping us. I have to hand it to Aylia for getting these two to consider it.

As the pair suggested joining forces to leave the city, Anarys took a few seconds to think his answer through. "My name is Anarys - though Greymane is used at least as often amongst hired blades. I can speak only for myself ? we two are mere acquaintances.

Your proposition is interesting, but I have yet to decide if I stay or leave. If it's only the Houses messing with each other, there's no need to leave as long as you stay clear of them. And truth to be told, to leave unnoticed, the fewer you are the better. And a warrior is usually more harm than good, unless you have to get rid of someone on the way.

If you want to leave, your best bet would be the smugglers - I don't have contacts there, but their presence is an open secret. But their sort don't do charity ? especially now that they have plenty of moneyed peoples looking for a way out. They will charge an arm and a a leg, be it in gold, goods or services."

Quick-Tail looked at the Dunmer, who didnt seem very enthusiastic about joining their company. "Sir," Aylia said, leaning forward to look the man in the eye, "I dont know whats going on in the city, but the entire place is locked down. You cant get in or out without becoming a wanted outlaw that will be killed on sight by a guard. The bridges are blocked and exit doors closed. Trust me, I checked. Hence the disgusting smell. Sir, I don't think getting out of here is an option. we both know something very bad is about to happen. Your a warrior, and I would think that you would know when something bad is about to happen. If we wanted to get out, we wouldn't need people helping us. Trust me, i know plenty of people who could get us out of here if i wanted to. But We are caught in one of the biggest events of the cntury, and we need to survive to tell the tale."

Aylia stood up, her voice becoming more forceful. "Sir, you have an option: we survive together until this thing blows over, or you die alone. What will it be sir? I can walk right out of here if you want me too. Just say the word."

Quick-Tail was stunned and speechless. What the hell Aylia? He could kill both of us by the looks of him! hes a good foot and change taller than you! Quick-Tail now was feeling that thief's sense to run out of somewhere when something like this was about to happen. And if it were most people that just gave that speech, he would have ran out. but this was Aylia, and she was special.

"I think the lady is right. You may not like us very much, but it beats bieng dead. And judging from the fact the council is in turmoil, citys locked down and the foreign quarter is in flames, I think having a guy who looks like he could kill almost anything that got in his way helpful. and a scholar who could probably scorch me where i stand. Dont'Worry, we can hold our own in a tight spot. But as they say, the more," Quick-Tal laughed to ease the tension, "The merrier!"

OOC: Sorry I havent posted in like 2 days my comp was down. Also this post is going to skip forward sometimes to take part in all I missed

IC: Shabael: Vivec Foreign Quarter 7:33 AM

As Shabael made his way back he took his time enjoying himself while looking around and eating. As he was in his trance a young argonian flew past him in a rush and knocked him over. He feebly got up as the Ordinators stormed by. He smirked I love it when criminals don't get away. He brushed himself off and continued to his tent. As he opened the flap he noticed that Dun-Il had completely packed up and left. Strange, but I guess there is more room without him. He shrugged it off and layed down on his bed. "FIRE!" At first he didn't budge but as the screams gathered in volume he was on his feet. He quickly grabbed him and Ashahulu's bags and ran out the tent. A stampede charged across the plaza each trying to inch his or her way out. To avoid the mass he quickly moved his hands in the familiar path as energy surged through his withered arms and legs. He floated up onto the next level and exited quickly. He turned around to watch the smoke billow up slowly, however he couldn't as the black sky hid the smoke in the sky. Shabael rushed into the line the Ordinators had created for evacuation of the Foreign Quarter.

As Shabael was settling down to a seat that had been set up in the Arena Canton he was approached by several of his ashlander comrades, one of which was Dun-Il. They began talking about things Shabael considered oung people things, he didn't care to listen so he thought to himself about how he was getting out of this mess. All of a sudden a small envelope was placed in front of him. He looked up to see who it had been but he couldn't see very much in the crowd. He nontheless picked it up and opened it. It contained a small letter that read:

Dear Shabael,
We of The Pure would like to have the honour of you, Shabael, joining us in our "crusade" if you will against the tyrannical rule of the Tribunal Temple. We know and understand you and your life's work for the good of your tribe, the great Ahemmusa, for we to believe that we will only be able to progress as a great race once we topple the heretical Tribunal from the great, ancient cities of Morrowind. We also understand how many have mistreated you and your comrades in the past and offer assistance in revenge on the malevolent society now known as Morrowind. We are not asking for your undying loyalty just your honourable respect and reighteous support in these dark times. If you are interested in what we are about feel free to attend our ceremony tonight at 8:30 PM in the Temple underground.
Respectfully,
Ravu

Shabael pondered the note carefully. It seemed strange that such an organization would want his support. Nonetheless he admitted they had piqued his interest...


OOC: This means he is there as of now :hehe:

Anarys listened the odd pair's almost panicked plea with the inscrutable mask he had learned to use when discussing the terms of his contracts. Or playing cards. Noting in particular the bosmer's choice of words 'We are caught in one of the biggest events of the century, and we need to survive to tell the tale.' Which shone a different light on the pair's reaction and explained their pressing need for company. Sounds like those merry two are more involved than they tell in today's events... Probably the treasury runs. Which speaks of a pretty good pair. Almost certainly professional enough to be true to their word as far as 'work' is concerned.

Wary of possible ears, Anarys answered in a low voice. "The biggest tale of the century... I'll make sure we have enough privacy to discuss it.". Focusing his mind he started weaving a spell, murmuring an incantation, his gesture seemingly innocent fiddlings. Soon he felt the threads of magic falling in place together, damping and merging whatever words they would speak with the tavern's noise to keep it out of curious ears.

Once done he resumed with a normal voice. "I might be willing to help you. But let's play it straight. If I'm not mistaken, you've done something you think is part of todays mess. Which means someone is probably planning to add something sharp and pointy delivered straight into your backs to your reward. So you'd like to have me around to help with that pointy thing issue, and maybe poke your noses where it don't belongs to get even with whoever played fast and loose with you."

Name: Hector
Race: Imperial
Gender: male
Age: 35
Faction: Imperial Legion
Birthsign: Warrior
Class: Templar Knight
Apperance: Clean cut military type with buzzed brown hair and a fresh shaven face, Green eyes and white skin. A military build beneath his armor.
Height: 6ft
Eye Color: Green
Weight: 205lbs
Hair Color: brown

Bio: Military born in the Imperial City to his mother, his father wasn't there due to being stationed in Morrowind. He never truly met his father until he was 10 and his father was out of the Legion. Hector followed in his father's footsteps and joined the legion at 17 years of age and for the next decade Hector spent years in the lands of the Dunmer, Redguard and Nordic. By this time he was a captain due to his many successes in battle, defending strongholds against crazed fanatics, destroying pirate hideouts and holding off a pack of werewolves in Skyrim. Finally after numerous battles and many scars Hector was expecting a calm experience compared to his last years but that's when the Oblivion Crisis started up and he was thrust back into battle within the Imperial City. After surviving the Oblivion Crisis and burying his parents who died during the Crisis, Hector was sent to Morrowind the help the dunmer with their rebuilding process.


Personality: A loyal soldier and to whatever cause he aligns himself with. Shows no real emotion but enjoys the friendly conversation he finds at most any inn.
Equipment: Templar Heavy armor. Imperial Broadsword with a steel shield.

IC:
Hector found himself lung deep assisting the ordinators evacuate the Foreign Quarters. He tried to cover his mouth while shouting orders to the scrambling refugees. One of the ordinators turned to Hector. "Go check for stragglers imperial." Hector nodded and put his head down and started down the hallway. Hector could hear yelling from around the corner. He came upon a man trapped by a collapsed beam and his wife screaming for help. "Mrs. Stand back and sir stay still and when I see move you move." Hector shouted as he squatted down to lift the beam. It wouldn't budge at first but Hector was able to get it high enough for the man to wiggle free. "Follow me to safety." Hector ordered and headed out the way he came with the two on his heels.


After the fire incident Hector went to his quarters which were in the Arena district to get some rest. His eyes still burnt from the smoke and needed some water. He didn't have any food or water in his room so he made his way to the inn within the arena district. He opened the door to the inn noticing a few people inside especially the weird combination of races at one table. He ignored and quickly took a seat at the bar removing his helmet and setting it on the table. He loosened his chest plate and let it fall on the floor next to his stool. "Barkeep an order of water and a glass of mead with a clean towel." The barkeep did so and received a few coins for his trouble. Hector took a sip of the water then poured it on the towel then placed the towel on his face only removing it to drink his mead. "What a day." Hector says to himself.

Damnit, he probably died in the fire. Feslin thought. There weren't many more reasons for his associate to be taking so long to return. There was a knock at the door, "Arvas, Pelles, you in there?" asked a voice from the hallway. Feslin recognized the voice as that of Harold, their Nordic host in charge of security in the Hlaalu Canton. Feslin opened the door, surprised again at just how short the Nord was. "Something wrong, Boss?" he asked, addressing the Nord in the manner customary in the Canton. "Yeah. Where's Pelles?"

"I don't know. Lost him in the fire. Didn't even make it through the transaction."

"Damn. Well, there's a more pressing matter, the damned foreigners our busting down our doors, seeking refuge after a fire burned down the Foreign Quarter. I'm ordering every able-bodied and armed Hlaalu in the Canton to help keep them out."

"I'm not Hlaalu."

Harold gave him a sideways look. "You and I both know who your real bosses are. Get your armor on and get to the sewer entrance, I expect to see you there." he said, beginning to walk backwards down the hallway before he was done speaking.

Feslin sighed. Guard duty... I don't think Dren would care if I skipped out on this one. He gathered the few useful possesions in the room into his backpack and left the room. His guar had been allowed to stay in one of the empty supply rooms on this floor. He decided to fetch his guar and get out of the city. With the Foreign Quarter on fire it was unlikely the transaction would take place.

He weaved his way down the hallway, which was now crowded with armored men, to the supply room. Opening the door he grinned when he saw the "gift" his guar had left for the next person to make use of this room.

"It's time to go, girl." he said, tapping his guar on the head. He strapped his backpack onto her and dug through another to find his old Ordinator equipment, including his shield and ebony mace. After equipping his old armor he led his guar to the opposite hallway and starting making his way outside.

Quick-Tail sighed. If only Aylia would stay quiet sometimes... but the man was right. Whoever played them in thatlast contract probably wants them dead, and they would need help from a strong arm to keep them alive long enough to stop whoever was doing this. the rest of the bar couldn't heartheir conversation, and judging from the people, they were probably affiliated wth the thieves guild or some other underground organization also. Quick-Tailo took a long sip of his Brandy before beginning his tale.

"Alright, you want us to play it straight? Well, here it goes." Quick-Tail started, "Me and Aylia are members of the Thieves guild. We have a third operative we work with, Trihas Telvanni, but he never showed up. The guild was hired yesterday by an unkown source to perform a large hiest. We were to steal some very important things from the houses and place the blame on the other houses. According to the contractor, it was to distract the ordinators long enough to allow refugees to enter the Foriegn quarter. But, now that the whole foriegn quarter is on fire, and its obvious we have been played by whoever did this. Trihas is missing, and we unkowingly helped whoever is doing this to the city. We are probably bbieng hunted by ordinators and whoever did this now. And I want to find whoever played us and stop him. The guild may be of thieves, but their is honor amoung thieves."

Quick-Tail sighed, "Well, that puts it all clear, eh? Were gonna stop whoever started this. simple as that. And any help we can get is appreciated. We can pay you if you want. We have 2,000 gold, and i dont think any shops in the city are open anymore." Quick-Tail laughed. "So, what do you say?"

Listening to Quick-Tail's expanded version, Anarys sighed. "that 'diversion to bring refugee' is one of the biggest dungheaps I've ever heard as a motive. Even with the Houses sharpening daggers and eying each other's back, the Ordinators would still keep watch at the city gates. And maybe even reinforce them to make doubly sure the Houses don't bring more troubles inside. Either you sneak a few dozen in, which will never come into shouting distance of covering the expenses, or you gather a big enough crowd to stomp over the guards.
That's obvious, will enrage every refugee already in and will probably scare the Council into delaying their feud until the Foreign Quarter is locked down, fine-combed and the newcomers evicted. Even without that, taking a good chance at causing a full blown House War as a diversion to slip refugees in is absurd. If the Guild bought that without seriously looking for who they were really dealing with, it means someone's either dumb as a bedpost, or a plant from whoever his behind the deal."

As the argonian offered two thousand drakes, Anarys pondered his options. He could certainly use the gold, but they were more interesting possibilities. "I don't think I'll take your gold and get along as hired muscle. I'd rather join as partner. If we can get some decent evidences on who's behind the deed, it will be worth a lot to the Council. And possibly get some extras on the way, as our unknown puppeteer has a lot of resources."

Quick-Tail smiled. That went better than I expected... which is good. Quick Tail looked at his newly found comrade, "Glad to have you with us. i still dont know either of your names, hought, and that would certainly be helpful." Quick-Tail chuckled, It certainly would be hard to be around you guys if i had no idea what your name was. And we should probably figure out our first order of buisness. We can't find out much just sitting around a tavern all day."

OOC:sorry for the short post, but I really cant add much more to it.

"Ehm, of course. I am Ph-... Phil" Philias said, not wanting to bring up his past and bring unnecessary complications for them to break their heads on. Especially the girl might feel too involved, her being a Bosmer. Plus, acting too much like a Bosmer probably wouldn't look all too good (though he could impossibly stop himself entirely from that old habit) and it would be a shame if he made a bad first impression on her, she seemed a nice girl. "And this is Anarys, a a hardened warrior. Before you get your hopes up too high, I must warn you though... I'm not that much of a mage you might think." he said, slightly embarrassed.


OOC: I'm not trying to romance your Bosmer here, Swift-Blade

OOC: No problem, Comrade

IC: Aylia chuckled at the Brenton. He seemed out of tough with social norm, and his introduction seemd shaky. "Well, Phil, Its Good to meet you. and You too, Anarys. Now that we are a nice, happy team, what should be our next course of action? One, one of our friends, Trihas, is missing. He could get captured, by either Ordinators or whoever is sieging the city, and either would be very bad for us. whoever is sieging the city does not know exactly who we are, and that we were the ones they hired to do the thievery. but I fear they will catch on soon. Or should we try to find out first who is even attacking the city? We should make a decision on this matter." Aylia said

Hmmm... Quick-Tail thought , Personally, I would want to find Trihas. He was like my Brother. sure, a grumpy older brother, but a brother. I wouldnt want him hurt. Buuut... We should also find out what the hell is going on in the city. decisions decisions... Lets see what my new "Friends" have to say.

Anarys thought about the options. As he didn't care about a thief he didn't know personally, his first impulse was to go for whoever launched the attack. Poking into every potential hideout in Vivec would be a daunting task, which might prove futile in the end.

"My advice would to go for the head and try to find who's behind the attacks. The sooner we find them, the better the odds to mess up their plans and get a reward from the council. About your friend, there's four possibilities.
He might be hiding somewhere. If it's an hideout you know it might be fast, but I wouldn't bet on it. The Ordinators may have caught him. A cell isn't a nice place to be, but it's reasonably safe. Whoever hired you may have caught him. And is probably sweating him for information about you. In that case, finding the attackers will lead to him. Finally he might be dead.
Getting out looking for him will do some good only if he's still hiding, in every other option it will be a waste of time."

"PURE! PURE! PURE"

The chanting continued as the large crowd of cultists streamed out of the dark room. Their leader continued his cackling, his words of murder and treason echoing through Folven's thoughts. The large elf struggled against the current of the insane multitudes, until the crowd had left the confinement of the waterworks for the open streets.

'They cannot be stopped...They are out for blood, and there is no way the city's guards can stop all of them.' Folven had fallen to the ground, the chanting growing fainter as the Pure scattered. His large form was coated with sweat, his breath haggard, and his mind racing 'What do I do? What can I do?!'

Using the balcony for support, Folven stood. He stared into the dark waters below, panic still numbing his senses. He considered simply diving in and swimming to shore, escaping the city, but he doubted he could make it at his age. His mind was torn from his hopeless depression by the unmistakable glow of fire coming from none other than the Foreign Quarter.

The raucous laughter came once more, this time it seemed solely for him. He turned from the blaze, his eyes full of terror as he beheld the figure that was approaching him.

"What are you?!" He cried desperately.


OOC: It seems that my guy is a little behind your characters. I'll try to time skip him best I can later, whenever you all start some action I'll see if I can show up somehow.