[h3][b][u]2nd of Sun's Height, 4E 205[/u][/b][/h3] [i]Collab between Leos Klien and MiddleEarthRoze.[/i] [i]Ah... The satisfying crack of success...[/i] Sylvanis could count three stages inside most results of a foe being hit successfully by her hammer - with the full power of the swing as well. The first stage was the momentary bout of resistance, a satisfactory smile always crept along her lips when she felt her arms jar ever so slightly. The second came the cracking of bones and the tearing flesh, in this specific case she was up against a Nord - a large brute that was at the very least a whole foot taller than her; but by the looks of him he was suffering malnutrition, which made muscles weaker as the body tried to gain energy by using more important energy sources. His leg suffered the blow which reduced the point just below the knee to little more than red mist with shards of bone being scattered along with the head of the hammer as it passed through what used to be a mans leg. The final stage was the stage of defeat, as the predictable events turned out a scream broke out of the mans lungs the weapon and shield fell from his hands and as he fell backwards in writhing agony he reached down to try and grasp what used to be his lower leg. Sylvanis was quick to put this man out of his misery, as her hammer came to a stop from its previous swing she hoisted it up in the air above her head and brought it crashing down on his head leaving little more than a mixed pulp of skull, brain and mud in its wake. And that was one more job complete - to be honest she was rather disappointed; both in the Jarl's men and the bandits that had warranted the need for a bounty to be placed on them. It was a painfully small operation, only about 5 of them- they were ill equipped and to say 'trained' would be an insult to actual bandits. They didn't attack all at once; which if she were up against actual trained individuals she might have said it was clever, but in this instance it wasn't. Her hammer had large arcs that could easily take out 2 lightly armoured men in a single blow anything from leather to chain mail and they were in serious trouble- to be honest if anyone was fool enough to go up against her with out heavy armour then by default they were in trouble. Sylvanis sat herself down with a small thump and set her hammer down in front of her - now came the joyous occasion of cleaning bits off the metal. "I love this part..." Sylvanis muttered wearily- at least 100 gold was waiting for her back in Windhelm - some drinks awaited in the Candlehearth as well as a warm bed. She stopped suddenly half way through the process of picking some skull off when it dawned upon her. The bridge... Who the fuck builds a city on the end of a bridge?! Aside from the obvious and distinct tactical advantage in a siege it brings. This was the down side to that city; at least in Sylvanis' eyes. After throwing away the scrap of now very messy cloth, she picked up her hammer and rested it over her shoulder as she typically did and began trudging through the snow; kicking as she did, on to Windhelm - and the blasted bridge. She wasn't to far from it, only a few miles walk which took her about an hour to complete, the weather wasn't too bad a bit of a nippy wind a very slight snow fall. As she crossed over a hill she seen the city, it was a large and daunting piece of stonework that looked more like a large fortress than a hospitable city; and even its hospitably was debatable. Well to most Mer it wasn't overly hospitable, but the Nords here learnt fast what racism towards Sylvanis earned them. And before she knew it there she was- on the verge of that long bridge over the river- and there she stood. Waiting. She knew she had to cross it; three of the most beloved things awaited her - a warm bed, a cool tankard of mead and of course hard earned gold. Something roasted over the spit couldn't hurt either - she was in the mood for venison. But in order to get that, she had to conquer the one thing she couldn't with her hammer. This blasted bridge. [hr][hr] As usual, the twins were being less than companionable to a customer on the wintery road to Windhelm. Hiding a smile, Rhasha'Dar watched on as his younger siblings danced around the poor Breton hunter they had happened across on the road, pestering him with various wares or ridiculous stories. "Ah, come now! By the looks of your arms, you could certainly use a potion of strength." "Don't be ridiculous sister! This is a strong man - obviously more brawn than brains. Have this rare enchanted amulet, it'll make you ten times smarter!" "This one spits on her brother's wares! A waste of money; a scam! Why not purchase this fine leather cloak? It'll give you the warm nights you're obviously not getting with women-" Finally getting tired of the twin's patter, he walked over swiftly, grabbing them both by the ear and offering the disgruntled hunter an apologetic smile. "This one apologises - dropped on the head as kittens, these two were." He said with a chuckle, quelling their complaints by twisting their ears further. "Allow this one to give you a discount to make up for their behaviour." He added, pushing the twins away and offering the hunter a fake discount - a common ruse the twins used. They'd annoy potential customers, they would be offered a discount (Whereas in actuality, the prices were raised by 5%), and the poor fool would fall for it. It was rare for people to walk away from a supposed discount, no matter how much they really needed the wares. However, the Hunter was only too happy to receive a "small" price for the 50 iron arrows he purchased, and once departing from the caravan, the twins began chuckling as Rhasha'Dar doled out the money. This ruse was as far to thieving he was comfortable getting. "Excellent work today, Ma'Zardi!" "No, no, Ma'Zargo, this one bows to your astounding acting!" "This one thinks we should stop talking and catch up with the others." Rhasha'Dar cut the two off, giving the pair an amused look. Although undoubtedly annoying, he did love them dearly, and the road would indeed be a boring one without them. It didn't take long for the three Khajiit to catch up with the others - the ominous yet familiar silhouette of Windhelm set in the distance. Due to the general distrust of the Khajiit population as a whole, it was impossible for the 30-strong group of cat-people to enter the gates of the city. Most in the caravan preferred this; camping on the outskirts was far safer, and there was certainly far less insults thrown their way. As for Rhasha'Dar, he was heading into the city - upon hearing rumours on the road of a large mercenary group looking for new blood, his interest was immediately piqued. It was about time he found battle once again - otherwise he'd fall out of practice with his spear. And he certainly didn't want a repeat of that. The twins also volunteered to come into the city with him - no doubt to cause trouble, get drunk, and steal from the unsuspecting Nords; but the pair could be as smooth as silk when they wanted to be, and had even the most racist of Nords enjoying their company eventually. Until the Nord woke up the next morning to find everything they owned gone - from their weapons to their underwear. After saying his goodbyes with many in the camp, the three of them made their way towards the bridge - noticing a lone figure stood there, staring ahead. It was only on closer inspection that Rhasha'Dar recognised the ridiculously large hammer compared to the smaller woman. "Still frightened of bridges, yes? This one is not surprised - it is very hard to kill a bridge, even with that large hammer of yours, Sylvanis." Rhasha'Dar said warmly as he approached his old friend. Naturally, the faces of Ma'Zardi and Ma'Zargo lit up with glee - their favourite Bosmer toy had returned to them. [hr][hr] Sylvanis was brought out of her thoughts - which was mostly just a reel of continuous curses to people who made bridges, and turned towards a rather familiar voice. It was her furry feline friend, Rhasha'Dar. Truly- Malacath has showered favour upon her for her recent crushing of her foes - bridges were less of a foe when she had cats to distract her. "Bridges are frightened of me too! It's a mutual sort of fear we have going." Sylvanis replied with a raised tone, clearly hiding the fact that she was petrified of bridges - even though Rhasha'Dar was there when they crossed on when they travelled together- it wasn't a good moment for her. "Anyway, enough about bridges, everyone always talks about bridges near me; it's annoying." She said, swiftly changing the subject and darting a warning glare towards the twins as they shared a mischievous smile. "What are three doing here? Where's the rest of your fluffy friends?" Rhasha'Dar chuckled lightly, walking forth and the pair grasped forearms - neither of them were on for cuddles. "Yes, this one can see the bridge trembling." He replied sarcastically. "The caravan has stopped by the stables - this one has decided it is time again for spilling blood." He said, then glanced at each twin on either side of him. "And we have decided to test our mettle in the local inn - lots of Nords-" Ma'Zardi began, only for Ma'Zargo to interrupt. "Stupid nords-" "Yes, stupid Nords; and lots of gold!" She finished with a chuckle, giving Sylvanis a sly look. "This one recalls your stomach for mead. Lay bets down, yes? Collect plenty of gold from the trolls in the city." Rhasha'Dar gave his sister a stern look - he knew what their games were like, which was fair enough in most cities in Skyrim. But in a xenophobic one like Windhelm, it could potentially end in death. The pair were quick with blades, but Nords were certainly one to hold grudges. "Stick with only bets - this one is not breaking you out of the local jail. [i]Again/[/i]" He hissed, and Ma'Zardi stuck out her tongue at him, scowling. [i]"Hard to believe they are no longer cubs."[/i] Rhasha'Dar thought to himself with a roll of the eyes - and then looking back at Sylvanis. "This one is going to Candlehearth Hall - have a drink together again, yes?" He asked, knowing she would never likely turn an offer of alcohol down. He also assumed she would appreciate the company across the bridge. Sylvanis was amused at the twins proposition, she could beat the Nords at a game of drink fairly easily; especially after she had done some killing, which always made her thirsty; but she had already done something like this in the past in this city, no Nord would dare accept now, especially anyone who was a regular at the Candlehearth. The first time was always a fresh and funny event in her mind, they though that such a small elf wouldn't be able to handle it - but how wrong they were, the number of agape jaws on that night was extensive. "Candlehearth? I have a room already paid up there, and if you buy the first round I may grace your table with my presence - no Nord will bother you if I'm sat there that's for sure." She said with a small smile. "I've just got to turn in a bounty first so I shouldn't be too long - crushed some "bandits"; if you could call them that, round about an hour ago, they should have ran when they seen me. Bastards made my hammer messy." Sylvanis gave her hammer a little jiggle on her shoulder to signify her distaste of having to remove bits of skull from it. "How rude of them." Rhasha'Dar said in an amused tone, casting his eyes on Sylvanis' warhammer. It was truly a daunting thing to look at - although one could appreciate the ridiculousness of it compared to it's small owner. "Can we get this over with then?" Sylvanis gave a grim look over her shoulder towards the bridge. She'd rather spend a night in Oblivion than cross a bridge- except Oblivion probably has bridges in it too. Standing on the threshold between solid ground and hard stone, she said through gritted teeth towards the twins [i]"Make one joke, and you'll be swimming to the docks..."[/i] Ma'Zardi and her brother laughed at Sylvanis' threat - Ma'Zargo throwing an arm around her shoulders and planting a kiss on the top of her head jokingly before dancing away with his sister. "Make jokes? This one could not be more serious." He chuckled, and Rhasha'Dar let out a small sigh of relief as the twins began skipping ahead, jumping up on the stone balustrades of the bridge and doing various tricks - probably in an attempt to make Sylvanis uncomfortable. However, he preferred them risking their lives on the bridge than with Sylvanis - he didn't want them entering the city by flying over the walls after a hearty hit from the warhammer. "Will you also be joining this mercenary group? This one has heard they are paid a decent amount." He inquired as the pair made their way across the bridge. The fact that Sylvanis was on a bridge didn't sink in till about a quarter of the way across it, and she quickly became nervous, the grip on her hammer became tighter and she had a nervous look in her eyes, the feeling of walking on air rather than stone took affect and the feeling that the bridge would collapse took hold in her mind. She quickly began talking to dismiss it from her mind. "Mercenary group? I've been out of town for a few days, hunting those disappointments - but if they pay well I probably will, need some work anyway; what are they looking to new blood for? They got a big job or expanding?" Rhasha'Dar shrugged, taking his pipe from his bag and sticking it in his mouth as he searched for some tobacco. "This one does not know. Travellers on the road say the group have just journeyed from The Reach, dealing with Forsworn." He answered, words somewhat muffled behind his pipe - finally finding some tobacco leaf and putting it in the bowl before lighting it. The stem of the pipe was certainly looking battered now - he'd have to pick up a new one in the city before he completely chewed the end off. The Bosmer and the 3 Khajiit were half way across the bridge now, they got a few dubious looks from the guards that flanked each side of the bridge - their patrols were no doubt long and very cold - boring too. Sylvanis gave one of them a nod of the head; she knew quite a few of the guards as she generally got her jobs from them, the one that gave her nod of the head in return was the one that gave her her last job, he never disputed her success in these matters as it was what she did best. Sylvanis turned back to Rhasha'Dar and contemplated this job offer - it was well payed according to him, so it was worth investigating what it would entail, at the very least. "Forsworn huh? My parents fought the Reachmen a long time ago, hard to imagine they are still about after all this time. From what my parents told me, the For... Sorry, the Reachmen, used stones and cheap iron for their arrow heads - good old Orichalcum plate turned them away with ease." She said giving her breastplate a thump triumphantly. Puffing away on his pipe thoughtfully, Rhasha'Dar regarded the two guards on either side of the main gate shrewdly - as if expecting them to say or do something to the small group. However, they must have recognized either Sylvanis or himself, for they did nothing but watch them as they passed on through into the city. "Perhaps the Forsworn are so often under-estimated, that people get too lazy around them. It would explain how so many have died at the hands of those savages." He pondered aloud, smiling slightly at Sylvanis' bravado. From the stories he'd heard about the Forsworn, he would prefer being cut down in the field of battle than be taken alive. Looking ahead, the merrily-lit Candlehearth Hall stood out against the cold stone of the city - to the left lay the marketplace, and to the right, the Gray Quarter. From what he had gathered from various people, the recruiting would take place tomorrow, at the Hall. Apparently, the host of mercenaries had already arrived and were staying somewhere in the outskirts of the city - so hopefully, there'd be some rooms left in the place. If not, Belyn would always lend him and his siblings a bed for the night. Sylvanis wasn't overly fond of this city- barring the Hearth in the center of the city the rest was gloomy and depressing, and the populace matched that. However getting paid will lift her mood up considerably, as well as that drink, she certainly needed it after crossing that bloody bridge. "Right, Rhash I'm going to get paid; why don't you and the trouble makers grab a seat and some drinks in the Inn? I shouldn't be too long." Sylvanis shook her companions hand once more and departed- passing by the Inn and heading towards the Palace of the Kings, where upon that steward would give her her bounty. Shoe observed the goings on of the residents as she made her way there, it was early evening and most people had either finished doing their shopping or business and were heading home to make dinner- or alternatively heading to one of the various inns and taverns dotted around the city. A few of the Nords gave here dubious looks, but most she passed gave her a smile and a greeting, they were the ones that had drank with her before, or at least knew that she wasn't like most of her kin.Before long she was stood outside the large black steel doors that made the entrance to the Palace, lucky she needn't wait out in the cold just to catch the Jarl's steward as he was just leaving the palace itself. "Ah. Sylvanis, what luck! No doubt you've dealt with that Bandit problem plaguing the southern trade route? Of course I needn't ask, you've never failed yet and that task was hardly a tough one for you." He reached down to his belt and removed two coin-purses. "50 septims in each one, as promised." "Thank you sir, it's always a pleasure killing for you." Sylvanis said with a gleeful smile, and the steward returned a cheerful laugh before shaking her hand and heading towards the Market place. With her hands heavier she headed back to the inn with a skip in her step - T'was time for drinks! Upon Rhasha and the twins entering the inn, there was a distinct lull in conversation at the sight of three Khajiit - two of them being that rather uncommon Suthay-Raht at that as well. However, a few people recognized Rhasha after a moment, and simply turned back to their drinks as the three found a table in the corner and got drinks. After a quiet word with the owner, it turned out there was a room available for the three Khajiit - Elda was somewhat hesitant in giving a room out to them, but after paying in advance, she was quite happy to let them stay. Upon seeing Sylvanis enter, bounty money in hand, the four shared drinks well into the night, eventually walking - or staggering, in Sylvanis' case - to their respective rooms and passing out till late afternoon on the next day. By the time Rhasha'Dar arose, it seemed that the recruiting had already begun downstairs - glancing out the window, he could see the line stretching out of the building. Much to his disappointment, many were young and greener than grass - no doubt under the impression that this would bring them fame and glory. Tutting lightly, he dressed, prodding his snoring sibling's awake before leaving his room, knocking on Sylvanis' door adjacent to see if she had awoken from her drunken stupor. [i]"Ugh.... Whats that thumping....sound..."[/i] Sylvanis awoke with a thumping headache and a tongue that felt like a bear had shed its fur in her mouth whilst she had slept. After her mind cleared a bit she deduced that her feline friend was knocking on her door - the faint glow of a late afternoon sun confirmed this as she drew the shades back from her small window. After stumbling a bit - mixed with scatterings of swearing - Sylvanis eventually got armoured up, and with a yawn hoisted her baby upon her shoulder, the weight a welcomed feeling as she pushed her door open. "G'Morning you three... why's it so noisy?" She said groggily wiping some sleep from her eyes. Rhasha regarded his companion with a somewhat stern amusement - clearly, she'd just gotten out of bed like his childish siblings. The two of them were yawning behind him, slumped on the wall and still half-dressed. Obviously, he had been the only who had drank a sensible amount last night. "It's afternoon, Sylva." He said with a smile, glancing down. "And you seem to have gotten your boots mixed up. Perhaps correct them before joining the mercenary group downstairs, yes? First impressions and all that." Waiting while the twins got properly dressed, and Sylvanis corrected her footing - and ignoring the cat-centered profanities being muttered under her breath - the four of them walked downstairs. While the twins gave a brief goodbye and headed back to the caravan on the outskirts (They would say a proper goodbye later, when the mercenary group left Windhelm), Sylvanis and Rhasha'Dar fell into line to sign up. They were given a few surprised looks - generally, Bosmer and Khajiit went for more rogue-type styles. But this Khajiit was not small and sneaky; and this Bosmer was not one for bows and arrows. Approaching Ashav, he mentioned that Rhasha would be the first Khajiit to arrive in their company. He wasn't particularly surprised; considering the amount of Nords in the group. Signing his name, he stepped aside and regarded the inn floor as Sylvanis signed up. There were definitely new faces in today; most likely the original recruits of the company. As Sylvanis walked up to the table where upon she would sign up she got a quizzical look from the recruiter. "Bosmer? With a Warhammer? That's a new one- here's the contract, I assume you can write, or at least I hope you can." Sylvanis gave a raised eyebrow in retort to that last statement, but after setting her hammer down next her, with a large thump and the creaking of floorboards following it. "Don't worry, I can swing this hammer well enough to relieve a foe of his head." She said with a sly smile, and signed her name on the parchment. It was a messy scrawl, but that was just her handwriting summed up. "I can't wait to see that; truly." he replied dryly. Sylvanis stepped out of the line after picking up her hammer and returning it to it's normal position and talked to her friend. "So. What should we do for the time being? Drink?" The question had a rhetorical feel to it, and it was indeed meant to be that way. Rhasha gve Sylvanis a dry look in answer to her question. "What else are we to do in an inn? With you, at that?" He said with a wry grin.