[center]Featuring [@Leidenschaft] and [@Graviloquence][/center]
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Despite having most likely put a good deal of distance between herself and the necromancers, Bharzak still could not help the fact that her idle thoughts were all but occupied by them. Now having time alone with her thoughts for the first time in several hours, she was very much concerned with just how much ground the Kamal collaborators had covered without her. The unpleasantly bulky collar around her neck felt even heavier now as her paranoia over its enchantments increased—she was concerned about just how much time she had left to figure a way to rid herself of it. The delayed-action runes placed on the item were unlike anything she had ever come across before, so any ideas on her part were mere speculation, most of which would likely have a very negative outcome should she act on any of them. It also probably did not help her growing anxiety that she was exhausted from the previous day’s events, but far too much had transpired for her to even begin to think about sleep.


Presently, the orc had chosen to exit the warmth and relative comfort of the building, leaning against the wall of the front of the building with her arms crossed as she looked out somewhat vacantly into the distance. She knew that she ought to try and speak with one of her new associates about what her current situation entailed, but she was not sure just how much they might trust her word, or, for that matter, if they would even be able to help her. For all she knew, there might not be a single enchanter associated with the people she was now in the company of. And, as many of them appeared to be even more exhausted than she felt, she had decided to wait to bring up anything regarding her situation until a more convenient time. It could not possibly hurt to put things off a few hours—she hoped so, in any case. 


The door closed shut with a soft snikt, and the floorboards creaked from the otherwise soft footfalls of the Nord as he stayed behind her. He took his moment, deciding what to say. It was true that many did not find the time to speak to her on the long march here, her previous companions and the familiar-looking collar still holding fresh images of lost friends and lost homes in their minds. Part of him wanted to trust that no one would work for the Kamal willingly, the other though, the other part of him wasn’t always so peaceful and trusting. “We need to reach an understanding.” He started. “I reckon you might not appreciate some of the looks and the silence from the others. I’ve half a mind to say that we’ve no obligation to keeping you safe. You parted ways with Jonimir, you left that mine, that’s it for ‘us.’”


He stepped up to her side, letting the silence speak for a moment before he continued, “If you want to continue with us, you’ll have to get that collar off. If you want to get that collar off, we need to reach an understanding. Gain a little trust, eh? I need to know why you were with them.” He folded his arms, “I need the truth.”


The orsimer mage had listened to the Nord respectfully as he stated his terms, and did not waste any time in replying. “I understand your wariness, and will gladly comply with your terms. Before I was apprehended by the Kamal, I took on bounties. I was in Eastmarch to deal with some wraiths, but some of their troops were in the area. They found me and I did not try to fight them, as I knew myself incapable of overcoming them alone. Because of this, I was given the option to either resign myself to slavery or do jobs for them. Death was also an option, but I’ve never been much for the idea of “death or glory”. It seemed best to continue in my previous line of work, although I was not in particularly good company. I am glad for to no longer be a part of their forces, though the length of my freedom remains to be seen.”


Keegan wasn’t intent on joining the scene, but after a few hours of tossing and turning on his bed, he decided fresh air would do better than forced sleep. His head pounded, like it had been constantly since being headbutted by the spriggan, and his walk was still somewhat stumbling. The march had not been easy, but the Altmer found himself far too worked up to sleep. So he got some drinks from Nightgate Inn, and to his surprise, they carried a decent tea brew. He drank one warm cup and took another one outside, intending to enjoy it in the morning air. What he didn’t expect was Jorwen and the newcomer already striking up conversation this early.


Keegan waited for the Orc to finish her explanations, as he himself was most curious about the so called “Kamal collaborators”, especially following the encounter near Rothvar’s camp. He cleared his throat then to make himself known.


“Don’t mind if I join in?” Keegan spoke up. He extended the teacup forward, its warm liquid steaming in chilly breezes. “Fresh brew if you want it.”


He gave some time for drinking, and when Keegan was sure the silence dragged on long enough, he talked again. “Sounds, uh, unpleasant.” He responded to the Orc’s story. So much for “speech skill”; consolation apparently didn’t come as part of the package. “Were you near Windhelm? Jorwen and I last saw Jonimir in the Reach, and that was a week before the invasion.”


Upon the Altmer’s entrance into the conversation, the orc gratefully accepted the proffered beverage, taking a few sips as she listened to his question. “I was,” she answered simply, “And that is interesting. Perhaps he was taken prisoner there.”


“Aye, maybe.” Jorwen nodded, casting a glance towards Keegan before returning it to the Orc. What purpose did they have in sending Jonimir to the mine? He knew they were very fearful of fire and all things related to it. He managed to bring a Kamal to its knees using fire salts, so the Pyromancer was an obvious obstacle. He put two and two together, and ran a hand through his mane, breathing out a curse, “How big was their force and where was the camp they brought you to? Were the charred woods the farthest you ranged from where you were camped?”


“I can’t give an exact or estimate of their numbers, but they’re not just some scouting party, if that helps. And as for location, they were based out of some cave north of this inn and south of Windhelm, about halfway up the mountains. It was south of River Yorgrim, too. And I can’t speak for my former associates, but the only mission I was sent on was to clear out the pyromancer. They have likely been on more.”


“Is that close?” Keegan asked, not quite familiar with Skyrim’s geography yet. When an answer was given, he pondered the problem with the Kamal already advancing so far. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard, well, several others and myself came close with a pair of Kamals in the forest.” Blowing some hot air to warm his hands, Keegan recalled the encounter. “There was a mage with them, and it’s staff had similar aura to your, uh,” he hesitated to a polite way to describe the ugly metal ring around the Orc’s neck, “collar.”


“Do you mind if I take a look at it? I’ve my share of enchanting before.” Without waiting for a consent, and possibly for Bharzak to deflect the issue, he moved closer and placed a gentle finger on the collar. It felt cold, not like the natural air whisking away body heat, but rather, a magical vortex that threatened to stop his blood flow. However, there was entropy underneath the metal, a small tug that drifted to the east; it was reporting to the Kamal. Suddenly, the Altmer felt his heart drop, because this Orc might have led the Kamal straight to them, willing or not.


“Seems like you know magic; can you sense what effect this device has?” Keegan finished his examination and stepped back to respectful distance. He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear from the Orc herself, to see if she intended to play them. 


“I am uncertain, but if they felt the need to reach our current destination, there would be at least a day’s worth of travel to get close, I’d estimate,” Bharzak mused, passively allowing the Altmer to look at the collar she currently wore. She noticed the man’s look of suspicion intensify as he moved away, indicating that he had been a skilled enough enchanter to get an idea of what the Kamal had done to it. She didn’t intend to bring any harm to these people, and she highly doubted she’d be tracked down when an easier solution to her ‘rebellion’ presented itself to the invaders, but it certainly would make her appear quite suspicious to her present company. Even though she had no ill intent in joining up with these individuals after dealing with the pyromancer, there was no way they’d know it; she would have to be careful in how she worded her response to ensure she did not appear false or threatening.


“I see.” Keegan acknowledged quickly, letting the Orc continue.


“I have some experience with enchantments, yes—and enough to know that this was made to be a tracking collar. However, I do not believe it is a particularly advanced enchantment, particularly as it was paired with another, one that happens to be much more bothersome—and lethal—to the wearer. If my actions are not to the satisfaction of the Kamal, or if I am found to be in defiance of them, this device contains a unique variety of destruction runes. I would estimate I have a few hours before they’re put to use by some Kamal Mage,” Bharzak responded, keeping her tone even in spite of the  anxiety her current situation had begun to cause her. “However, if you believe that my presence may be a threat to those within your group, I can go. I do not wish to be the cause of any unnecessary or unjustified deaths.”


Hearing Bharzak’s explanations, and a true explanation, that is, Keegan nodded in agreement. “I have suspected magical tracking as well.” He confirmed. However, he wasn’t quite as prepared to hear the lethal twist that came next. His face wince slightly, knowing that the Kamal could engineer such cruel devices. “Then we should remove this dangerous device as soon as possible.” Suggested Keegan. He recalled something similar used by the Thalmor on Summerset, and seeing another mage suffering the worst this world has to offer made the Altmer sympathetic. 


“The magic can be temporarily disabled,” Keegan began formulating, “however, I’m going to need someone with the aptitude to handle, you know, the physical constraints. There should be an arcane smith around, some ‘Fulrog’ the innkeeper gossiped.” At this point, Keegan stopped to glance at Jorwen. Keegan knew that he tended to proceed too fast when he’s certain of himself, and it dawned to him now that the big Nord might still harbor suspicions. 


“Fine.” He said after taking his moment, chewing over the options. He wasn’t in this business to save the world, no matter how kind he’d vowed to be for his family and to atone for the thing he was. He couldn’t push the woman out into the cold, though, that would be unkind. “We’ve already spent a night with her and we’ve gone through too much to push her back out on her lonesome. Get Fulrog.”


With that, he turned to leave and opened the door back inside. Before he disappeared inside, he turned to look at the Orc, “Be ready within the hour. We’ll see if the Kamal come for you.”


The orsimer was unable to mask her surprise at the Nord’s reply, as, after the company she’d previously been keeping, she fully expected that they would have turned her away. Nevertheless, she managed to overcome it quickly, replying with a grateful, “All right. Thank you.” 


She had not been anticipating this response, but she was more than a little relieved she would not be dealing with the aftermath of her forced servitude alone. The altmer and nord had no reason or obligation to help her, but they were, of their own volition, although the latter did seem somewhat reluctant about it. Not that she could blame him for it. Bharzak only hoped that her situation would not put these surprisingly sympathetic individuals in danger themselves.


“You’re welcome.” Keegan replied. He watched the mass of red hair walk away, and by the time the Nord finally left, he spoke to Bharzak again. “Jorwen’s a bit blunt, but he means well, most of the time.”


Before fetching Fulrog, Keegan offered a final piece of advice to Bharzak. “Our company had several costly engagements against the Kamals and their allies. As many mercenaries are rougher folks than myself, they can come off as cynical, especially around snow demon collaborators, whether that be the willing or the forced.” He asked for the teacup back, then continued on. “I don’t know what exactly transpired in the pyromancer’s cave, but if the Kamals or Jonimir does come after you, I would keep a low profile.” Speaking from personal experience, Keegan saw the Orcish axe holstered on the woman. Other than that, she was unarmed and armored, which did make trusting her less threatening. “Just don’t make any sudden moves; no heroic charges or running away. Trust me, drawing attention in these situations are, well, very unhealthy.” In the end, Keegan’s words surprised himself; it’s amazing what one learned by simply surviving in a mercenary company. 


“I understand. I will endeavor to not offend any with my presence or actions,” the orc replied, talking the Altmer’s advice to heart. She was not a particularly impulsive or hot-blooded person by nature, and figured it would be easy enough to avoid agitating her new acquaintances.


Within the hour, Fulrog released Bharzak from her collar. The old Orc arcane smith, who had just woken up not long ago, was not one in the mood for small talks. This large man, an old bear just like Jorwen, except for tusks and green skin, showed unexpected nimbleness when it came to his trade. He asked for a slightly discounted price than typical enchantment removal services. It could be in part because Bharzak was another Orc, or also, him already contracted for similar tasks with the White River Braves. When Fulrog did speak up, he asked which stronghold Bharzak came from, and whether or not she had heard of Kamals wiping out Narzulbur. He remained quiet otherwise, clearly not liking the fact that his client was a mage.


Upon being spoken to, Bharzak was brief and polite in her answers, mentioning Larkegh Kraz in a neutral, almost detached manner before informing him that she had not, in fact, heard of Narzulbur’s destruction, and that she was saddened to hear it. She, for one, was glad Fulrog was not a particularly talkative sort, as she was not much in the mood for conversation. While she was incredibly relieved that the impending threat of a gory death no longer hung over her head, her future still remained to be seen. Going back to taking bounties on her own was a foolish idea, as it would likely only lead to her re-encountering the Kamal, who would likely not be anywhere near as ‘merciful’ as they had been towards her previously. It would be a stretch, but she began to wonder if perhaps she might join up with the band of mercenaries fate had cast her lot in with at the present. Though that opportunity would most likely be reliant on the Kamal [i]not[/i] making a stop by Nightgate Inn. To be sure, many had reason to not trust her, considering what she had come from, and she respected that. The orsimer decided that she would let things take their course, though she hoped that the mercenaries had been able to tell that she had been entirely truthful in her dealings with them, and that she meant their organization no harm.