Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Tread Lightly (CLOSED Oblivion RP)

Ath began to hold a hand out. "Just Ath is fine." He would say then blinks and goes quiet as the door opens and the guard captain and his men appeared and walked to them. Ath tilted his head and frowned to the captains words. "Sir, what did we do?" He would ask. Lex would grin. "You all will tell me where the grey fox is." Ath blinked and looked to the captain and then to the others.

"Well sir, i don't know how we will do that........we are just travelers that got into town not to long ago." He would try to bluff his way out of this and such and hope it worked. "We just came in for a friendly drink of ale and to hear the latest rumors and stories." Lex watched them with beady eyes as Ath talked. When the mans attention was away from him though, he would quickly hide a lock pic encase things did not go so well and they were jailed.

Captain Lex swelled out his chest with a smug face. “’We have a witness who assert she heard the three of you claiming your allegiance to the Thieves Guild. Now, let go – we’ll continue this interrogation at the Bastion. If you’re smart enough, you will not resist.”

He moved his hand and two of his men walked nearer of the “thieves”, ready to bring them out the inn by brute force if necessary. Lex looked at the remaining three guards. “Patrol the area. I don’t want their accomplices to attempt to free them.” The men looked sullen but nodded anyway and walked out the inn-boat, throwing annoyed glares at the patrons. Their captain looked back at the Altmer, the Breton and the Bosmer. “Criminals first,” he scoffed.


Maybe had Dakari overestimated her stomach and the herbs that girl had given her, or underestimated her seasickness – or maybe the shein was just too old, the Nines only knew. Anyway, a pang of nausea hit her and she stammered to the edge of the quay. She fell on her knees, despite the soaked ground, and vomited up her very heart.

She even felt bad for the slaughterfishes. Or not.

Astarill snorted at Dust’s comment, then sent a glare in the direction of the guard that approached him with another set of handcuffs.

“I’ll come willingly, thank you,” he snapped. “I’ve got a complaint to file once you’ve run through your procedures and have realized that there’s nothing you can hold us for.”

He had no need to resist. It might be impossible to prove that he was in fact not a member of the Thieves’ Guild, but there certainly was no proof that argued that he was either. Well, apart from the testimony of a ‘witness,’ whose identity seemed pretty obvious to Astarill. Nevertheless, they were going to have to wait for night to fall in order to speak to Ath’s people, and until then… where would he be safer from the Dark Brotherhood’s arrows than an office of the Watch, shielded from the rest of the world by a mountain of pointless outdated paperwork? The only downside to the current course of events was that he was now unable to take the abandoned bottle of shein with him, which annoyed him greatly.

The guard who tried to handcuff him looked at his captain, who submitted Astarill to a scrutinizing glare and then gave a nod, apparently estimating the chance that the Altmer would try to escape as slim.

When the guard captain scoffed and gestured for the ‘criminals’ to precede him out of the inn, Astarill arched an eyebrow. He seemed to have no intention to move and cast a skeptical look around as if looking for said ‘criminals.’ He turned his gaze back to the captain and spoke with a poorly disguised sneer, “After you, then.”

Anger coloured the watch captain's face a nice shade of red, but he appeared to possess enough self-restraint not to let the Altmer's impertinence get the better of him. He made a gruff gesture towards the inn's door. One of the two remaining guards nodded in return and proceeded to the inn's exit, holding the door open. The captain looked from Astarill to the door and back again with a humourless, impatient expression. Astarill harrumphed, took his backpack, and then followed the guard out of the inn.

Dust growled and rolled her eyes as one of the guards motioned for her to step ahead, flanking her between the captain and Astarill, with another guard behind her. "Yes, yes, I'm going. Don't get your knickers in a bunch." She glared as one of the guards gave her a slight push forward. "We're not thieves, but I doubt you're going to realize that so easily, hm?"

Astarill, though annoyed, was also surprisingly calm. Dust frowned, worrying her lip and wondering what he was thinking. She hadn't expected him to resist, but she had almost expected more of an argument - until she realized. Stone walls, almost underground, surround by guards on constant patrol. The prison was probably the most miserable and certainly one of the safest places in the city. With a sigh Dust grabbed her bag, glancing back at the Bosmer - Ath, he called himself? - before turning to follow those before her.

Ath snorted softly and shook his head. "Honestly Captain, if we were thieves do you think we would be shouting it to high heaven? Specially in a crowded place?" He asked. "Seems to me you should be checking out this so called "Witness" Before making charges against innocent travelers" But as it seemed the guards wanted to continue the arrest the bosmer would get up. "I can walk well enough." He mutters as he unslung his bow and quiver and handed them over.

With that done Ath would follow Astarill and Dust out of the bloated float before glancing up to the sky. They needed to be out by nightfall at the latest if they wanted to waist little time in getting to his people. Hell maybe breaking out of jail wasn't such a bad idea, the guild could rectify the bounties on there heads easily enough. Ath thought on all this as they walked and decided he would play it by ear.

Captain Lex led the « criminals » to the Bastion with the smug expression of the victorious rightness. Behind the wannabe captives, the two guards looked nervous until they finally left the waterfront behind the heavy, giant gates that separated the place from the rest of the city.

Dakari saw them leaving from the top of the firehouse. She had hurried to climb there when she had noticed three of the guards leaving the Float for patrolling the area. It had been an achievement to not puke all the way upstairs though. But now, she had to think fast and act fast. The Altmer was somewhere, the Brotherhood was looking for him, and she didn’t expect the guards to keep the Bosmer and his friends in jails for more than a few hours – no mention she surely would have to answer to them for their forced stay in the Bastion. And “I didn’t want to have you around” would surely be insufficient.

Dak shrugged with one shoulder and started to walk downstairs. She was planning to go to the Market Place. It apparently there that the Bosmer had met the strange Mer for the first time. It was a good place to start the hunt, and the shopkeepers might know interesting things - for once.

The walk to the Bastion seemed a long one. Out of the Waterfront, through the Temple District, across the Green Emperor Way and through the Market District. Astarill found it difficult to decide which annoyed him more; the filthy weather, the overzealous guards wasting his time if not theirs, or simply the Imperial City in general. Probably the city. Nothing good ever came from it, as far as he was concerned.

He followed the Watch Captain’s lead and ignored the looks they might get from passers-by. He kept his silence for the duration of the journey while he occasionally glanced up at rooftops, down into alleys and behind him. He was convinced the Dark Brotherhood wouldn’t try anything while he was in the company of guards, and he was quite certain they wouldn’t kill him on sight without making sure he had whatever they were after first, but one could never know. If they were as zealous as the city’s guards, they might just get carried away by their enthusiasm and do something silly. Gods know the world was filled with silly people.

When the party of guards and their captives reached the prison, the Watch Captain ordered another guard to take Astarill’s sword and backpack. The Altmer narrowed his eyes and pressed his mouth into a thin, colourless line, but he complied nonetheless. He took his backpack off his shoulder and handed it over, before he detached his scabbard from his belt.

“I’ll be wanting this back in the exact same state I left it in,” Astarill growled, as if it wasn’t obvious already, and pushed the sword into the guard’s hands. He then resigned himself to be taken away to a cell while things were being sorted out.

(((OOC: I skipped some time here. I hope that everyone can work with that. If not, let me know and I’ll gladly edit.)))

With her bag clutched to her chest and a look dripping with a mixture of annoyance and pity, Dust followed the misguided guards, grumbling inside. She had no doubt who was behind there sudden 'criminal tendencies' - she would have to speak to Astarill alone, as soon as she could. Shouldn't be difficult in prison, if we have the same cell…

Dust narrowed her eyes as her bag was confiscated - dammit, my potions, my herbs! - but grudgingly let it be taken before moving along to settle in a cell, next to Astarill's.

She bit her lip, staring out of the cell bars. She had to let Astarill know that the woman who'd sent them here was Dark Brotherhood, but with the guards around…

"Astarill!" Dust spoke, hopefully loud enough for the Altmer on the other side of the stone wall to hear. "The seasick woman is a friend of Miles Gaurrus!"

Ath snorts softly and shakes his head but would give up his bow willingly, his sword still at the weapons shop for the time, and he would give up the other items that they wanted. Ath then glanced to the guards. "No need for chains, i can walk without running you know, i am a big boy." Voice was condescending to say the least. Ath would fall in behind the other two, his arms crossed over his chest as he walked in silent contemplation.

Once they got the prison he would be put in the cell right across from the other two and Ath glanced around. "Well, this is cozy isn't it. A nice homey cell." A chuckle played from his lips before he watched the guard leave out of the cell block and close the door. The bosmer would turn to his cell door and walked to it putting arms through the bars and over at the lock to touch and feel it. He had the lock pick but the question was would it be better to pick the locks and the three escape or wait until they got cleared.

“I don’t see what you’re talking about,” peeped the Bosmer trader while rummaging through his account book. He briefly looked up and grimaced annoyingly at the puddle around the newcomer’s feet. “Thoronir is nothing but a humble merchant whom only wishes to offer to his customers the best prices in town.”

Dakari sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “…don’t you also usually claim you know the right persons?” she asked with a tilt of her head. In answer, the Bosmer flushed and swallowed a few time. “I don’t care about the way you lead your business,” Dak added with a shrug, “but those rights persons of yours could help me with an issue I have.”

“It…depends of the issue” squeaked Thoronir in the tiniest quiver of a voice.

She stared at him without blinking. “I need to find someone. As fast as possible. And its identity is nothing of your concern.”

The Bosmer kneaded his ears for a while then smiled nervously. “I see. Well…maybe they’ll be able to help you then. As long as you can afford their services. Meet me at The Merchants Inn tonight. I’ll lead you to them.”

Dakari suppressed a wince. Waiting until tonight would negate her lead. “…I hope it will be worth my time,” she said grimly. “For both of us sake, I really do.”

Astarill turned away from the bars of his cell and had a look around. He had been in worse places. The stones and the air might be damp, but it was still drier than the current weather. The cell was maybe fifteen feet in depth and a bit less than ten feet wide. A strip of daylight came from a narrow window with grating near the ceiling, well beyond his reach. Something that appeared to be fabricated from old sacks, stitched together and filled with straw, made a damp and mouldy bed. All in all, it seemed quite pleasant.

He turned back to the bars when he heard Dust call his name from the cell next to his, and frowned when she had delivered her cryptic message.

He scoffed. “Oh, he has ‘friends’ now, has he?” he said, before he remembered Dust’s connection to the person in question. He could have added “No offense,” after his remark, but he would have failed to sound sincere. If he had truly cared to prevent sounding potentially offensive, he wouldn’t have opened his mouth at all, and the truth was that he had meant to sound every bit as derisive as he had.

He got Dust’s message, regardless. So the Imperial woman with her seasickness and her unhealthy tendency to refer to birds at every opportunity was a member of the Dark Brotherhood as well. He would very much like to think this solved his problem, would like to hope the Brotherhood would now be informed of the fact that he was not the one who did whatever they wanted Lorundil for, but things were rarely that convenient.

“I’m not feeling particularly optimistic. Do you?” he asked of Dust while he frowned and narrowed his eyes at what Ath was doing with the lock in the cell opposite of him.

Dust sighed, glancing at the dim stream of light the lonely, barred window above her provided before moving to sit on the bedroll. She grimaced as something could be seen twitching under the cloth - mites, no doubt. The floor would do. She growled, sitting on the cold stone, back to the wall. She frowned when she heard Astarill's voice, suppressing a wince at his sarcasm. Well, he has every right to be, after everything. It still hurt, though. Yes, the so called 'Miles' had friends, and lovers, both of which she'd been. She sighed, burying her face in the relative warmth of her lap as she huddled against the wall.

I really hate prisons.

Dust lifted her head slightly as she caught Astarill's voice again. "Not particularly, no. I guess there's not much to do but wait and see what happens." She glanced around with a sigh before her gaze settled on Ath, who seemed to be examining his lock.

Ath wasn't really listening to the others at the moment. After he finished checking out the lock upon his cell he would stand up and glance about. He didn't see the guards about, which was good, and he would pull out the hidden lock pic then glance to the others before kneeling again. Ath would then speak. "We have a choice. I can pic these locks and we can escape, the guild will take care of the fines and any trouble that results from it when the guards find out were gone. And i will make sure that everything is cleared for you two, you have my word, or we can wait till were cleared through the regular channels." He looked from one to the other.

"Or we can wait here till were cleared and then go to the waterfront district but you two need to make up your minds quickly." All in all, his next actions were dependent upon what the two of them decided they wanted to do. Oh he could guess to an extent what they might want to do but that didn't mean they would do it. Ath kept watch on the door in case the guards decided to come back to check on them at some point. As he waited for them to decide he would twirl the lock pic between fingers. "I can also get our gear back out of the chest that holds them should you decided the first course, it should be near as well" he murmured.

The rain finally stopped to fall shortly after Dak left Thoronir’s shop. Slowly, the return of the sun brought back into the streets a noisy, moving crowd, made of all kinds of people and races from throughout Tamriel. This, Dak thought, was the Market District in its full regalia, the heart of the City as much as the White Gold Tower. Sellers opened their street stalls and smells of baked bread, roasted meats, fresh ink, flowers, leather and many other exotic perfumes filled the alleys.

Dakari melted into the crowd, keeping a hand on her purse for protecting it against potential footpads. She followed the flow of persons heading to the giant gates of the Elven Gardens District and allowed herself to be swept along with the tide.

There were a lot of things she had to plan for tonight. The money, of course, as Thoronir had “kindly” remained to her, but also her weapons. She didn’t trust the Bosmer, and she was convinced his associate was just the same – even worse, who knew? No mention the streets weren’t exactly safe at night, as Primo Lusius had learnt, and being a woman didn’t make things easier. On the other hand, a woman carrying a bow, a hunting knife and ready to use them was immediately more intimidating.

Even if her father, with whom she was actually living, would have prefered to see her with a new wedding dress rather than with an armor.

Astarill stared through the bars of his cell to the Bosmer in the opposite cell. He scoffed once Ath was done talking, finding it rather difficult to take the word of a thief. He was not about to put his life, his name and the retrieval of his sword and backpack in the hands of this Wood Elf he hardly knew.

“Are you entirely out of your tiny tree?” he hissed through gritted teeth, keeping his voice low. “We need go nowhere until nightfall. Let them waste their time. They’ll let us go soon enough.” He paused, then continued, “Unless of course they’ll find something to hold you for.” He narrowed his eyes. “Will they?”

Break out? Dust winced at the thought. She held no love for guards, but didn't want to cross them and make things worse than they already were. She spoke softly, hoping the men's elven ears would help them hear her better. "Look, I'm sure you're eager to go, but it's safer to just - " She trailed off when Astarill scoffed and spoke, barely holding back a smile at the remark about 'tiny trees.' "I have to agree with Astarill. There's no point in causing trouble - better to wait, for now."

Ath looked to them both, naturally he wanted to pick the lock and escape, to get to the bottom of all this but he would nod his head and hide the lock pic once more before sitting back against the stone wall and closing his eyes. A chuckle escaped his lips though at the scoffing of Astarill and his tree comment.

"Ah tiny trees, i so did love my cherry tree." He mused as he wanted a cherry right now. The elf would sit and wait. After what seemed like ages, the door to the cells would open and Lex would walk in with several guards. A sour look was upon the guard captains face as he motioned for the guards to open the doors.

"Your free to go, but i got my eye on you, so take care in my fair city." He growled and watched them. Ath stood up and smiled. "Our gear please." One of the guards would take them to the chest that contained all there gear and Ath would grab his stuff then head out of the prison. By this time it was just about night fall and the bosmer would frown. "We should hurry." He muttters. "No clue what that crazy woman got up to while we were here." he said this more to himself.

If the others agreed with him, he would start off heading to the waterfront district to meet up with the people he needed to see, to see if they even knew where his friend was. It would be full dark by the time they reached the place they needed to be. Ath would take them to the garden of Dareloth and then wait. After a bit Armand Christophe would appear with a torch heading to them, but stop walking upon the sight of Ath. "May shadow hide you." Ath would speak walking to him.

Armand would cast a leary glance to Astarill and Dust before speaking. "Who are they?" Ath glanced to them. "They are with me Armand, we have come for information on the location of Lorundil Gladro, and hoped that you may know as he has gotten himself into some hot water." a grimace appears on the bosmers lips at that.

((OOC: sorry for the wait i wasn't exactly sure, and if you need me to change things in edit i will gladly do that! And feel free to have Armand say or do things in your posts as well! ))

Between her search for the money and her father’s insistence for a tea, the afternoon passed quite fast for Dakari. She eventually managed to gather a decent amount of money, a courtesy of her father after she promised to paint a portrait for one of his customers. When dusk fell, she excused herself, slipped on the infamous dark purple armor of the Brotherhood, covered it with a long, old brown cloak, put her trustful hunting knife at her belt, and an elven bow with a quiver filled with ten steel arrows on her back. After what she left Cidius Sohadin’s home silently.

Thoronir was waiting for her at the Merchants Inn. He jumped down his stool when he saw her stepping in, and grabbed Dak’s arm for leading her outside instead. He let her go quickly when he noticed the way she was looking at him though. “Did you really have to bring a weapon?” he complained while heading for the meeting point. “He’s going to be very upset, you know. It already has been difficult to convince him to come; now you’re bringing a weapon…”

“…I don’t care,” answered Dak. “I’m not here for pleasing your friend.”

The Bosmer was right about his “friend’s” displeasure though. He was waiting for them in a garden, a bulky, blond Nord with a nasty expression on his face and dark clothes. He spat on the ground when he noticed them. Thoronir make an attempt of introduction, but the Nord interrupted him. “First the money,” he growled. Dak threw a purse at his feet. The man picked it up and examined its content with a frown. “It’s not enough,” he protested while making a step in Dak’s direction with a snarl. Throromir let out a squeak.

In answer, Dakari put her hand on the hilt of her knife. “…you’ll have the rest later. Once you’ll bring me the informations I want.”

The Nord stopped and examined her. His eyes fell on her bow, and on the weapon he couldn’t see but guess. After a moment, he nodded. “You’re less a fool than I thought. Alright then, we have a deal. What do you want?”

Dak blinked slowly. “I want a man too bold and stupid for his own good. I want Lorundil Glaro.”

Astarill rolled his eyes toward the ceiling at the Bosmer’s remark on cherry trees and sat himself down against the wall at the far end of his cell, gazing up into nothingness while he waited for the guards to make up their minds. When they eventually did and released all three of them along with their belongings, Astarill applied the time he spent following Ath back to the Waterfront to check and double-check if the contents of his backpack were left intact and his sword unscathed. Satisfied that vials were left unopened, papers were not missing, and the leather of his scabbard no more damaged than it already was, he turned his attention to his surroundings to see if there were any signs that they were being followed. Apparently, the Altmer valued the integrity of his spellbook over his continued existence.

Once they reached a shack somewhere in the Waterfront District and met up with the ‘people’ Ath had mentioned, Astarill stayed back a bit.

Armand Christophe nodded in response to Ath’s explanation for their presence here, although he appeared to remain suspicious of the two outsiders. “I’ve heard of that,” he said, “What exactly did he do?”

Astarill looked from the Redguard to Ath and back. He was unsure if he was allowed to speak, but he decided there was no law that obliged him to take into account what a bunch of institutionalized thieves thought, and so he spoke, “He did something to anger the Dark Brotherhood.”

Armand turned his head and regarded the Altmer questioningly. “And what exactly are you? His brother?”

Astarill clenched his jaw. “No. I am the one who’s going to get killed because of him.”

“... Yes,” the Redguard muttered thoughtfully, nodding while he seemed to see the resemblance between the subject of the conversation and the Altmer in front of him. He turned his gaze back to Ath’Vesu. “I’ll tell you what I’ve heard, but not with them here.”