Welcome to Gaia! ::

A shadow crept closer and closer to the Cheydinhal chapel. It's armor formed perfectly to the female frame. She was slender yet strong, her muscles toned after years of practice and use. The armor itself had been brought back from a place called 'Shivering Isles.' Someone had ventured into the strange door and brought back several sets of armor that they had sold for the right price. Anrel had picked the dark seducer armor as it was as black as the void, but much tougher than the leather armor she once owned. Her weapons included a steel dagger and bow known as 'Shadow Hunt.' Along with her steel arrows she was a formidable force. In front of the chapel doors now, Anrel turned to a hooded figure. An exchange was made and Anrel walked away with a special dagger. She planned to give it to a trusted Shadowscale. Whether she used it or not was her choice. The dagger was silver, expensive, and enchanted. It had cost a fortune, but the Argonian had earned Anrel's trust. Tucking the dagger into her pouch, Anrel turned and made a bee line for the well that lead into the Sanctuary. Opening the gate with a twist of a key, she hopped in, grabbing the ladder and descending. The skeleton guardian that patrolled the main area paid her no mind as it's bones creaked with each movement. The Listener sauntered down the hall and stairs into the room that had once been Vicente's. The bed had long since been changed from it's stone surface and torches had been added. Anrel pulled the dagger from her pouch and set it on the small round table, unwrapping it from the cloth package and smiling down at it. All there was to do was wait. Then she would give the dagger to E'Lara and commission the contracts that the Night Mother had informed her about.

After disembarking at a small dock near Cheydinhal and gathering up his equipment. Thomas set out towards the city. It wasn't far. He could see it on the horizon. He now wore his mask proudly. It always drew curious glares, an armed, masked man as flamboyant as he sauntering into the city. Almost daring others to challenge his right to be there.

Thoughts of excitement filled the middle-aged Breton's head as he passed through the city gates, once inside he made his way towards a small inn. The first step on any job was to locate his client, and he was unfamiliar with this city. Spent most of his time out west, after all. Inside he found few people... The propreitor... A Kajhit and Argonian... Shadowy figures... but shadowy figures tended to know their way around town.

He calmly walked towards the pair and spoke "Good day, I am new in town and find myself in need of directions. Could either of you chaps point me towards a place called "Willow Bank"?" He smiled gingerly as he said this. His mask left the lower half of his face visible, so he was always sure to express a fair deal of emotion through it.

OCC: For my intro post, see the Wilderness section: Nibenay Basin.

Ah, the irritable sort! What a shame. Still, Thomas knew how to speak, perhaps he could get the information he wanted in spite of this Kahjit's attitude. Although, he would have to be sure it didn't come to a fight. Guard's tended to frown upon brawling and it was unfit for a Gentleman of his stature. Sophisticated duels over matters of honour were far more his style. Not that he had ever participated in one, but if he ever fought with another civilian on a city street, he liked imagine that a duel would be the reason.

He very quickly, almost a jump, crossed the room and swirled into a seat at the Kajhit's table. "Oh come now friend! No need to be so angry!" He cheerfully retorted, with a happy grin. "All I need are directions, I assure you. Perhaps we could even share a drink while you explain the route to Willow Bank?" As he finished speaking Thomas raised a hand in the air, gesturing for the Kahjit to wait. The grin on his face widening. He seemed incapable of containing his excitement.

He spun his hands around briefly, strange, flowing movements, slapped them together and pulling them apart quite rapidly, producing a single gold Septim in one hand. "My treat?" It was a magic trick, he knew a handful. Not Arcane ones, mind you. Though he knew a few of those too. He could paralyse opponents with a touch of the hand, he could charm others and he could blend into his surroundings with a technique similar to invisibility. But these were not arcane tricks. No these relied on Slight of hand. He quickly rolled the coin between his fingers, making it spin in a sense, as it moved. He only kept this up for a few seconds before grasping hold of the dancing coin, producing a small pouch with a his free hand, and dropping the coin inside of it. It made a small clink as it landed atop the Septims in the pouch. "Come, friend. Surely my terms are agreeable. A free drink for you, directions for me? What do you say?" Thomas continued smiling as he said this, as he had been for much of the conversation.

Thomas listened carefully as the Kajhit explained the directions. He was unsure of their accuracy, since the man seemed quite drunk. Still, it would probably bring him to the general area. When the Kajhit was finished the Breton smiled. "Excellent my friend. And, as promised!" He signaled for the patron, handed her several coins, and ordered another of whatever t he man was drinking.

[He stood up, moved towards the door and said "Kajhit, Argonian. I bid you farewell!" and made his way outside. He began making his way through the city streets and eventually, a rather large manor rose up. Not exactly where it was supposed to be, but about right. Excellent. He made his way to the door and gently knocked.

(sorry been a bit busy but shall reply noooow)

E'lara decided it was about time to go get another contract, "I must be off" she hissed to the kajhit as she made her way out of the inn. She made her way east down the main street and continued over the bridge that lead to the back of the chapel then rounded the corner to the old abandoned house on the edge of town. with a glance from side to side to be sure no one was watching, she made her way into the door, down into the basement, further down through a short tunnel dug into the basement wall and through a large red ominous door with a mural on the front. E'lara smiled as she was greeted by members of her 'Family', a word some may think is out of place in such a dark murderous hole in the ground, but they were a family none the less, there kin second only to there loyalty to the lord sithis and the night mother. making her way into the deepest area of the sanctuary she approached Anrel's room and rapped on the large wooden doors.

"What's it to you, Bosmer?"
Altos said without even looking.
He was on edge. Even after finishing his hearty meal and two ales he wasn't the slightest bit happier.
"All Nords come from Skyrim? That's what ye' be sayin'?"

"You eyein' my timepiece, boy?"
Altos looked at the elf revealing his scarred, bearded face.
He grew more and more menacing by the second.