He laughs loudly as he is told a joke, a barmaid scurrying away to fetch more mead. The guards join him, happy to be off duty. The man is careless with his coin, flashing septims as though they were pebbles, tipping like a drunken sailor, gambling heavily without a care. And why not?
They all knew he was in no danger. Those fat, soft hands that had never held a sword for anything beyond ceremony were protected. Only a madman or fool would try anything. The whispers had spread quickly when the captain of the Dainty Sload was arrested. Noster was the first to see it. A little pattern, so subtle it could have been mere graffiti or a a new decoration for the lavish home. But the beggar recognized it.
Protected.
Rumor spread quickly, but nothing could be proved. So the man laughed and drank and gambled, never worrying that any desperate cut-purse would dare try to target him.
It didn't faze him when he heard a sultry voice behind him purr, "I was wondering who could afford Black-Briar Reserve all the way out here, but now it makes sense, Thanke Erikur."
He only turned when of the guards whistled admiringly. It was the the new barmaid, who had been there for only a few nights. A pretty little creature, the bosmer. Surprisingly smooth skin, slightly tanned as though she had been a farm worker. Long black hair tied back in a carefully haphazard braid. Thin, pointed features, with careful applications of makeup. Large silvery eyes that watched him hungrily. The wench put the bottles on the table, and turned with a twitch of her hips. Before she could walk away, her wrist was caught. She allowed herself to be pulled onto his lap, not caring that the movement caused the outfit she wore to reveal long expanses of thighs.
"And who might you be? You have to be new, or I'd have charmed you into my bed already." She smiled impishly.
"Why not call me Daela? And I'll call you Erikur."
"It's a deal then."
And so the night went on. He gambled, he drank, she watched, she laughed. Finally with enough kisses and teasing whispers she led him away from the game and out the door. Erikur knew that she was probably only trying to bed him for money, but she if she was good enough between the sheets, he might indulge her for a few days. Besides, he did have a fondness for elves. As the two left the tavern he noticed am Argonian watching them, and shrugged it off. Probably some dock worker scum who had been trying to size him up for a robbery.
The streets of Solitude were cool as he led her to his home. It was a peaceful trip. No thugs, a few guards patrolling, no foolish shortcuts though alleys. When they reached his door he only stiffened slightly when he felt something sharp poke at his back.
Erikur chuckled. "Now missy, I wouldn't do that if I had brains."
"And why not?"
"I have a friends that you wouldn't want to annoy. By doing something stupid like robbing me."
He expected cursing, bluffing, posturing. what the thane didn't expect was the easy laughter that puffed onto his neck.
"The Thieves Guild? No, I'm not worried about your friends."
"Too bad for you. I'm under protection."
With that he whipped around, hoping to startle her into dropping the knife. He wasn't prepared for the knee that slammed into his gut like a troll's fist, winding him, or the small knife to be plunged into his side.
"I'm protected!" he wheezed.
She chuckled darkly as his vision blurred and wobbled. He felt his face slam into the wooden frame of his door.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
Re: Blue 4/?
Date: 2012-07-23 05:39 am (UTC)Inn. Tavern. Haven.
He laughs loudly as he is told a joke, a barmaid scurrying away to fetch more mead. The guards join him, happy to be off duty. The man is careless with his coin, flashing septims as though they were pebbles, tipping like a drunken sailor, gambling heavily without a care. And why not?
They all knew he was in no danger. Those fat, soft hands that had never held a sword for anything beyond ceremony were protected. Only a madman or fool would try anything. The whispers had spread quickly when the captain of the Dainty Sload was arrested. Noster was the first to see it. A little pattern, so subtle it could have been mere graffiti or a a new decoration for the lavish home. But the beggar recognized it.
Protected.
Rumor spread quickly, but nothing could be proved. So the man laughed and drank and gambled, never worrying that any desperate cut-purse would dare try to target him.
It didn't faze him when he heard a sultry voice behind him purr, "I was wondering who could afford Black-Briar Reserve all the way out here, but now it makes sense, Thanke Erikur."
He only turned when of the guards whistled admiringly. It was the the new barmaid, who had been there for only a few nights. A pretty little creature, the bosmer. Surprisingly smooth skin, slightly tanned as though she had been a farm worker. Long black hair tied back in a carefully haphazard braid. Thin, pointed features, with careful applications of makeup. Large silvery eyes that watched him hungrily. The wench put the bottles on the table, and turned with a twitch of her hips. Before she could walk away, her wrist was caught. She allowed herself to be pulled onto his lap, not caring that the movement caused the outfit she wore to reveal long expanses of thighs.
"And who might you be? You have to be new, or I'd have charmed you into my bed already." She smiled impishly.
"Why not call me Daela? And I'll call you Erikur."
"It's a deal then."
And so the night went on. He gambled, he drank, she watched, she laughed. Finally with enough kisses and teasing whispers she led him away from the game and out the door. Erikur knew that she was probably only trying to bed him for money, but she if she was good enough between the sheets, he might indulge her for a few days. Besides, he did have a fondness for elves. As the two left the tavern he noticed am Argonian watching them, and shrugged it off. Probably some dock worker scum who had been trying to size him up for a robbery.
The streets of Solitude were cool as he led her to his home. It was a peaceful trip. No thugs, a few guards patrolling, no foolish shortcuts though alleys. When they reached his door he only stiffened slightly when he felt something sharp poke at his back.
Erikur chuckled. "Now missy, I wouldn't do that if I had brains."
"And why not?"
"I have a friends that you wouldn't want to annoy. By doing something stupid like robbing me."
He expected cursing, bluffing, posturing. what the thane didn't expect was the easy laughter that puffed onto his neck.
"The Thieves Guild? No, I'm not worried about your friends."
"Too bad for you. I'm under protection."
With that he whipped around, hoping to startle her into dropping the knife. He wasn't prepared for the knee that slammed into his gut like a troll's fist, winding him, or the small knife to be plunged into his side.
"I'm protected!" he wheezed.
She chuckled darkly as his vision blurred and wobbled. He felt his face slam into the wooden frame of his door.
"No, dearest Erikur, you aren't."
A single line, breaking the circles.
"Not anymore."