It was dusk when a Nord, who couldn't of been a day over twenty, with dark blond hair and sun kissed skin made his way from the docks of Leyawiin after a seemingly hard day of laboring. His sweat stained clothes stuck to his body as he made his way through the normal crowds of the city, carrying a large bag over his shoulder that weighted down each of his steps. He made his way to a plane looking two story building, not something that wouldn't normally catch the attention of anyone, that he called his home. The weary lad tossed the sac he had lugged from the docks aside, it being filled with dried fish for his dinner, as he entered the house and shuffled his way over to a ratty looking chair that sat in front of a fireplace that didn't seem to have been cleaned in years. After starting up a fire the young man crumbled into the chair, dirt falling off both him and the chair, with a sigh of relief. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle of ale, something he snatched off one his fellow dock works, and let out a slight laugh before he took a swig. The young man watched the fire and drank his ill-gotten ale, he didn't notice the shadowy figure that was waiting for him to arrive home sneak up on him. In a quick motion a hand found its way over the young mans mouth preventing him from letting out a yell then in the moment after that a pair of fangs plunged themselves into the Nord's neck.

Tagorn drank deep from the young dock worker, stopping just before he completely drained the man. The Wood elf rose from the unconscious Nord with a look of pure satisfaction on his face, blood still dripping from his lips. "Oh such a gracious host you have been. But I'm afraid it is time I go." Tagorn slowly wiped his face clean of blood before he emptied the pockets of his victim of any coin he had. He then pulled up his hood and mask, concealing his face, and head up the stairs of the house. He exited out the window of the second story that looked out to the ally, him jumping and landing effortlessly on the ground below. 

Tagorn had done this type of hunting for the past two-hundred years, picking a mark wait for them to return home then feed on and rob the poor soul, he had become use to the act to the point he knew exactly how a person would react once they awoke. They would first feel a sharp pain in their neck, even though his bite would of already quickly healed, then they would realize that all their coin was gone and report that they were robbed, but by then Tagorn would be long gone. Tagorn made his through the alley ways of the city, making sure not to be seen by the guards, as he thought what his next move should be when he happened upon a tavern.

Like always he entered the building unseen and unheard and made sure to stay as far away from candle light as he could. He took a seat in a shadowy corner and scanned through the crowd for any potential marks, waving off the hostess that came with a bottle of ale for him. He was quite disappointed to the fact he didn't see anyone that would give him a good pay off, though he did take an interest in one of his kinsmen sitting at the bar. Many may not of noticed it but it was obvious to Tagorn that the young Bosmer used magic to ward off the advances of the drunk fool. Though he never saw the point of magic himself he smirked some to see the young woman was able to bend the minds of the weak. He continued to watch her even as she arose and approached a Dunmer who seemed to be lost in thought.