“Sister,” he said cautiously. “What did we just agree to? You hate the Vigil of Stendarr. You single them out more often than you do the Thalmor and Stormcloak resistance fighters. Why are we helping one?”
Eola ruffled his hair, feeling rather more patient and benevolent now she had a job to do. “Cicero, sweetie, Nepos doesn't want us to help this poor fool. Nepos wants the whole mess to go away. We're not hunting Daedra, my love. We've just been given a contract.”
Cicero's eyes widened and the unholy grin she'd fallen in love with in the first place split his face. As Cicero's mad cackles echoed round Understone Keep, Eola hugged him tight, gleeful smile on her own. About time some work came up. She was getting hungry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“So you don't know anything about this house?” Tyranus asked the Redguard jewellery vendor. Her stall was only down the street, she must see people going in and out surely?
“All I know is it's abandoned,” Kerah said stiffly. “It's always been abandoned. No one goes in, no one goes out. I'm sorry, I'm afraid I can't tell you any more. Look, did you want to buy anything or not?”
“Hmm? Oh. No, no, it's fine, that's all I needed to know. Thank you for your time.” Tyranus walked away, ignoring the grumbling as she muttered about fancy ass Altmer who wasted her time and didn't buy anything. He had more important things to think about. Such as that allegedly abandoned house that reeked of dark magic and had had strange lights and sounds coming from it, and he wasn't remotely reassured by the local authorities' reaction. He'd hardly even been able to see the King, and that steward of his was giving him the run-around, he just knew it. He had hoped that a city whose Breton rulers actually understood magic might be more helpful than Nord Jarls usually were, but it appeared that perhaps they understood the Daedra just a bit too well.
He returned to the door of the house, wondering if perhaps he should pluck up his courage and go in alone after all. It wasn't a good idea, he knew that, but he was getting nowhere and with the Hall's destruction, he didn't have the support he'd once have been able to get from his brothers and sisters in the Vigil. No, there was nothing for it, he'd have to investigate this one alone.
“Excuse me.”
Tyranus nearly jumped out of his skin. He'd not heard any footsteps, been too lost in thought to see anyone approach, and the woman's voice had taken him completely by surprise.
She was young from the look of it, roughly equivalent to a 150-year old Altmer if Tyranus was any judge, one eye lost to a sword-stroke but not bad-looking for a human despite that. She was wearing very finely crafted and expensive looking scaled armour, a pair of red and black gloves and matching boots, and a Forsworn woman's traditional headdress. Around her neck was a white-gold rope-like necklace open at the front with two wolves' heads adorning the ends, in a similar style to the red-gold eagle-headed one he'd glimpsed King Madanach wearing. Expensive from the look of it, so clearly someone high-ranked in the Forsworn. Had the King decided to help after all? He could but hope.
The man next to her in the jester's outfit with red hair, dark eyes that didn't blink nearly often enough for Tyranus' liking and the smile that never wavered once was another matter entirely, but the Forsworn woman was holding his weapon hand so Tyranus decided to leave him be.
“What can I do for you, young lady?” he asked. She patted the elven blade at her side, smiling sweetly.
“We heard you were looking into this house. We were wondering if you'd got anywhere?”
Assistance, Stendarr be praised. Someone in this wretched city that actually seemed to care about the possibility of Daedra in their midst. The King had clearly found someone capable to give him a hand after all.
“Nowhere,” Tyranus sighed. “I've found all sorts of tales of strange noises and lights from this house but everyone I speak to says it's abandoned and always has been. No one goes in. No one goes out. It's like there's some sort of enchantment on it making people look the other way.”
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timeasmymeasure
Re: Of Daggers and Daedra 1.4
Date: 2013-09-23 07:42 pm (UTC)Eola ruffled his hair, feeling rather more patient and benevolent now she had a job to do. “Cicero, sweetie, Nepos doesn't want us to help this poor fool. Nepos wants the whole mess to go away. We're not hunting Daedra, my love. We've just been given a contract.”
Cicero's eyes widened and the unholy grin she'd fallen in love with in the first place split his face. As Cicero's mad cackles echoed round Understone Keep, Eola hugged him tight, gleeful smile on her own. About time some work came up. She was getting hungry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“So you don't know anything about this house?” Tyranus asked the Redguard jewellery vendor. Her stall was only down the street, she must see people going in and out surely?
“All I know is it's abandoned,” Kerah said stiffly. “It's always been abandoned. No one goes in, no one goes out. I'm sorry, I'm afraid I can't tell you any more. Look, did you want to buy anything or not?”
“Hmm? Oh. No, no, it's fine, that's all I needed to know. Thank you for your time.” Tyranus walked away, ignoring the grumbling as she muttered about fancy ass Altmer who wasted her time and didn't buy anything. He had more important things to think about. Such as that allegedly abandoned house that reeked of dark magic and had had strange lights and sounds coming from it, and he wasn't remotely reassured by the local authorities' reaction. He'd hardly even been able to see the King, and that steward of his was giving him the run-around, he just knew it. He had hoped that a city whose Breton rulers actually understood magic might be more helpful than Nord Jarls usually were, but it appeared that perhaps they understood the Daedra just a bit too well.
He returned to the door of the house, wondering if perhaps he should pluck up his courage and go in alone after all. It wasn't a good idea, he knew that, but he was getting nowhere and with the Hall's destruction, he didn't have the support he'd once have been able to get from his brothers and sisters in the Vigil. No, there was nothing for it, he'd have to investigate this one alone.
“Excuse me.”
Tyranus nearly jumped out of his skin. He'd not heard any footsteps, been too lost in thought to see anyone approach, and the woman's voice had taken him completely by surprise.
She was young from the look of it, roughly equivalent to a 150-year old Altmer if Tyranus was any judge, one eye lost to a sword-stroke but not bad-looking for a human despite that. She was wearing very finely crafted and expensive looking scaled armour, a pair of red and black gloves and matching boots, and a Forsworn woman's traditional headdress. Around her neck was a white-gold rope-like necklace open at the front with two wolves' heads adorning the ends, in a similar style to the red-gold eagle-headed one he'd glimpsed King Madanach wearing. Expensive from the look of it, so clearly someone high-ranked in the Forsworn. Had the King decided to help after all? He could but hope.
The man next to her in the jester's outfit with red hair, dark eyes that didn't blink nearly often enough for Tyranus' liking and the smile that never wavered once was another matter entirely, but the Forsworn woman was holding his weapon hand so Tyranus decided to leave him be.
“What can I do for you, young lady?” he asked. She patted the elven blade at her side, smiling sweetly.
“We heard you were looking into this house. We were wondering if you'd got anywhere?”
Assistance, Stendarr be praised. Someone in this wretched city that actually seemed to care about the possibility of Daedra in their midst. The King had clearly found someone capable to give him a hand after all.
“Nowhere,” Tyranus sighed. “I've found all sorts of tales of strange noises and lights from this house but everyone I speak to says it's abandoned and always has been. No one goes in. No one goes out. It's like there's some sort of enchantment on it making people look the other way.”