[center][h3]Several Rounds Later[/h3][/center] [hr] [sub]A devious collab with the scallywags [@POOHEAD189], [@Greenie], [@Macabrefox] and I.[/sub] [i]The Merchants Inn, the evening of arriving in the city...[/i] "Give up already." Brynja said, laughing through gritted teeth. Her opponent, a rather rotund drunken Redguard, struggled in vain to get her arm to budge. He had a thinning crown of white curly hair, now slick with sweat. Glistening drops slid down his temples, his eyes nearly crossed with exasperation. "Can't - I won't lose to a woman." He grunted, a vein running through his forehead bulged at the pressure. "You're... just going to hurt yourself, old man." She hiccupped once, then pinned his arm to the table top. His black eyes were wide in disbelief. He had lost, and to a woman at that. Brynja could feel the heat in her cheeks as she grinned, she had lost track of how many mugs of ale she consumed, how many times the pitcher had been refilled. The Redguard claimed himself, and retreated into the throng of onlookers.  "Ay, Brynja," the familiar voice of Cassius caught her attention, wherein she turned to see him approaching her, a grin just as big plastered on his face. "Cassius!" She said, louder than necessary. "That was the last one for the night." He slapped her on the shoulder, "I've not seen this inn as crowded as this since the last major fight in the Arena three months ago! You've done a splendid job, come. Let's get some food in you, I've got another pitcher waiting for you at the counter." Leaving Brynja to stagger to her feet, and follow him through the crowd of people. There were patrons who elbowed each other in the ribs at her passing, she could hear their taunts amongst their companions. [i]"I bet you could take her!"[/i] or [i]"Ha! She'd crush you in a heartbeat."[/i]  Despite the words, Brynja kept her grin as she settled onto a barstool at the counter. Her entire body was flushed from the exertion, and from the copious amount of alcohol she had already consumed. What was it, seven or eight pitchers? Her eyes followed Cassius as he disappeared into the kitchen, where he emerged shortly with a plate piled full of food. Her mouth watered instantaenously at the sight alone. "Eat up! Let me grab you a pitcher." Cassius slipped away again, leaving Brynja to dive into her plate of food. She tore into a warm bread roll, and with the other hand reached for goat leg. She alternated between the two until there was nothing left. By now, Cassius had returned with the pitcher as promised, and set it down before her. He leaned on the counter top, watching her as she filled her mug. "I'll be damned, Brynja. You helped me bring in over five-hundred septims worth tonight. And the rest of my patrons are just as eager for tomorrow evening."  "Good," she said before lifting the mug to her lips and taking a hearty drink, "I'll be sure to do the same as tonight." "Hold that thought," Cassius said, he peered past her shoulder before grinning, "I've got some newcomers to attend. If you see Danica, tell her I'm looking for her." And with that, the barkeep had disappeared around the counter, and out into the throng of people behind her. Danica was the barmaid, a new girl, and not very good at her job. But Brynja only had concern for the mug in her hand. She sighed, her shoulders sagging as she cradled her chin in the palm of her hand, and her eyes drifted down to the amber liquid in the mug. Now that she was all alone at the bar, the exhaustion settled in. She wasn't used to interacting with so many people in one night. Hell, she could barely think a clear thought, much less speak without slurring her words. Yet deep inside, she could still feel that haunting ache that gripped her heart. The guilt. A shadow that followed her every step, that whispered softly in her ear. And that's why she drank. She drank to forget, to drown her guilty conscience, to hide her feelings. She raised the mug again to her lips, emptying the contents in one final gulp. Taking the seat next to Brynja and setting his lute in front him, taking extra care to brush any dirt- real or imagined- off of the body of it, Latro smiled at the Nord mooning into her tankard. Truth be told, Latro had an odd fondness for the big Nord, maybe that was because she was the one to heal him back in the Dwemer ruins. He set down three septims on the bartop, “Colovian Whiskey, two fingers.” He said to the barkeep before he set himself to his task. ”Hello, my friend.” He smiled to Brynja, waiting for his drink. At the sound of Latro's voice, Brynja pulled herself from the depths of her mug, and raised her brow at the sight of him, a slow smile crawled across her lips, "L-latro," She said through slurred speech, her head bobbed as she refilled her mug. "I didn't expect *hic* to see you here."  She washed her words down with another gulp of ale, "I hope... you're feeling better." She returned the mug to the countertop, a bit too brusquely as ale sloshed out. Just then, Cassius returned with Latro's drink order, "Here you are."  "I'll have another beer," a voice piped in from the other side of Brynja. Meg had entered the inn while Brynja had been in the midst of beating all sorts of fellows. After Judena had shown her and Latro around the University and helped with familiarizing themselves with the city, she had decided to take a chance and wander about, taking in the various sites and noting them down in her mind. It had occured to her that maybe Judena was rather smart to keep writing material on her person at all times; even if Meg's writing was appaling, she could still very well draw out a map of the places she was passing and note the landmarks down.  Before any extra spending, however, she'd wanted some food and a night's rest on a proper bed. And so she found herself in the Merchant's Inn. She couldn't have said she was surprised by the affair; in all honestly those men were stupid wasting their money once they'd seen two or three fail. But that was honour and pride she supposed... or just being a bunch of idiots. It had been quite amusing, watching from her own table and cheering her fellow Nord on. In fact... it had been somewhat lucrative as well for the younger Nord, making some money off winning bets against silly persons who decided Brynja wouldn't be able to beat the last few fellows.  By that time Meg had finished both her meal and her second mug of beer; seeing Latro was there as well, she'd decided to go meet up with the two. "Ya sure showed them!" she added in Brynja's direction, a grin on her face, leg twitching excitedly as she talked. "Megana!" What a night this was turning out to be, first Latro, and now Megana had arrived out of nowhere. "W-well, someone told me I'm a bit loose... with my money. So I decided to make some until Rhea paid us." She reached out to the younger Nord, and clasped her on the shoulder. "Besides, free beer and free board." She chuckled a bit to herself, "What are you doing out at this time of night?" "Findin' a place for the night, and a meal." Meg decided not to mention at the moment that she might have made money off Brynja, unsure how the older Nord would take it. "I don't really have a home 'round here an' all. Besides, if you're gonna be here as well then I might as well keep it permanent 'til I gotta leave. Better to be 'round people I actually know, right?" She looked over at Latro. "Are you stayin' here as well?" [i]Meanwhile[/i] Danica giggled, her face flushed as Alim whispered in her ear, his voice honeyed and sultry. The pretty young barmaid tilted her head just enough to expose her neck, and she bit her tongue as Alim leaned in closer.  "Hey!"  Danica's eyes went wide like saucers, and Alim was suddenly 2 feet away as if he had never even been within scandalous distance. Cassius strode up, eyeing Danica and shooting a skeptical look at Alim. The Redguard Breton bastard stood with a regal poise and a respective look on his face. "My good woman." Alim began, his accent cultured. "I am so sorry for bumping into you. Sleep has addled my mind. I would like two pints of the finest ale please." Danica  was not nearly as good at acting, her neck still tingling from his hot breath and her utter surprise of being discovered brought a shock to her senses. "Um uh, y-yes right away." she breathed, hurrying off to fetch the ale, her strawberry blonde hair bouncing as she did so. "Excuse me."  Alim raised his brow and leaned back on the bar counter, his elbows resting. Cassius shook his head, and nodded over to the table with the others. "Everyone else is over there."  Alim grinned, knowing his facade was up. "Don't blame her." He said honestly, gesturing toward where Danica went. "She really was attentative and ready to take my order. I just started a conversation and...well I cannot help myself sometimes."  "As long as it doesn't happen again." Cassius sighed and shoo'ed him away. Alim practically hopped out of Cassius' vicinity and pulled up a chair with the others as if they had already invited him. "So, what are we discussing?" "Oh,  Alim, didn' see you come in!" Meg turned to look his way, greeting him with a smile. It was nice to meet up with the friendlier folks of their group once more. "Nothin' in particular, drinkin' and wonderin' where the night's gonna be spent." With her new beer finally arriving, she took a large gulp, licking her lips once she set it back down. "Alim?" Brynja teetered in her seat as she turned to look at him, "Alim!" She crowed, she slapped him hard on the back, a bit too hard perhaps. "We are... discussing, as it would appear... in this erroneous arrangement, that the topic of home is of great importance." She hiccuped as she finished her mug of ale. Brynja refilled the wooden mug with what was left in the pitcher, and pushed it away from her to signal that she was in need of a refill. "I... have no home. Family in Whiterun, of course, but I am damned certain that my mother is very... unhappy with my behaviour. SO. I've no intentions of returning," she lifted her mug in a cheer, "To the limits of unbound freedom!" She held out her mug for those around her to clank their mugs against. "My Pa's in Whiterun too, but I can't go an' stay with him, he got himself a wife an' another child, a boy." Meg looked momentarily grumpy as she took another gulp. "Marne didn' like me 'round the place much- I'd stay in the inn when I was there. Pa'd go along with it an'... bah, I didn' wanna cause trouble." "Really? Then we might have more in common than I thought." Brynja's brows raised at Meg sharing a home in Whiterun. "If you have heard, my mother is Eydis WhiteHand. Runs a small apothecary shop in town. Though, as first born daughter, she placed a lot of weight on me. Expected me to become some type of fuckin' lady or something like that. 'Course that's hard to do when your daughter is six feet at the age of four-and-ten.Ran off in the war, looking for my brother, Ivor is his name, enlisted as a field hand. Had to patch men and women up, most died. Ma didn't like that at all, eh? Only made it worse when I came back, alive, and not even months later, I found myself serving Rorik Bone-Breaker, Thane of Windhelm. And from there everything became a downward spiral, mistake after mistake. Why bother going home when your family knows you're a good for nothing lout?" She lifted her mug to Meg, "I'll drink to that, disappointed families with nowheres to go." Brynja held a lopsided grin, yet there lay a distinctive shadow in her eyes, an aching in her heart that she could not. Meg returned the grin with one of her own before finishing off her drink in one glug. Her life didn't sound so terrible, and least not in the way that she disappointed her father. He'd always been there for her when she was young and needed him... well, most of the time.  "I didn't know my Ma much," she continued as she stared at her now empty mug. "She died when I was small. Pa took whatever care he could of me. Him an' Ma, before I was born, they used t'do go 'round doin' the same thing I am. Well, kinda.. er... a little. They were more... uh... what's the word..." She waved her hand in a careless manner, mind a little vacant for words. "People'd pay 'em to keep 'em safe." She set her mug down before rapping on the chestplate she still had on. "This was my Ma's, and my sword too." She scratched a little at the armour before shaking her head. "More beer here!" "Sellswords. That's what I am now." Brynja said, Cassius came back around, and this time he replaced set a fresh pitcher down in front of her. "I lost my Pa in the war. Wulfgar. And my brother, Jorrid. Both of them ran off to join the Stormcloaks. I have a little sister, Elyse, and she had a twin brother, Mige. He died before his sixth name day." She rested a heavy hand on Meg's shoulder. "I'm sorry about your Ma, Megana. Death is a bitter thing. For some, it takes our nearest and dearest away too soon, and for others, well, we have ghosts that haunt us." Brynja poured herself another drink, before sliding the pitcher towards Meg, "Cassius will be a minute, so help yourself." Meg's eyes brightened at the sight of the pitcher, quickly refilling her mug once more. It had been a while since she drank; at least this time it was with others around to stop her if she went overboard... or not. "What about the rest of you? Latro? Alim? What of your families?"  "I prefer not to think of home too much." Alim declared casually, reclining in his chair and taking generous sips of his ale. He took a deep breath through his nose after a moment however, and leaned forward. "But I suppose if I had to say, it's fairly similar to Meg's story. Only I was taken from my mother in Hammerfell, and raised as a bastard of a Breton lord. My father."  He placed an elbow on the table, and then another. His free hand poised and his drinking hand heartily holding his mug. "I guess my life was not terrible growing up, but it wasn't what I wished for either. I left it long ago to make my own way. It's been good so far, albeit volatile." He ended the last sentence with a wink.  "That explains it." Brynja said with a solemn nod, her eyes attempting to study Alim, attempt being key as she continued to sway. "I couldn't tell what you were. A Redguard clearly. But no wonder you make the ladies swoon over you. You're like Latro over here, eh? Got that Breton charm in your blood."  Latro chuckled at Brynja's offhand comment about Alim and Latro's...[i]appeal[/i]. Cassius had set down his whiskey a few moments ago but Latro took his first drink while thinking on what exactly to say to the question. The subject of home was a touchy one for him if anything past the city name were asked. It was a lie painfully stilted on half-truths. He sighed, "I was born in Camlorn to a well-off family, aristocrats, if you will. I was never close to my father, he wanted a son that was more... well, [i]more[/i]," he gestured to his person with an awkward smirk, "But I made my way. I left home years ago, started traveling in the endeavor to find myself. I met my mentor somewhere along the roads between Wayrest and Daggerfall and he introduced me to the finest bards he knew, as well exposed me to the fount of his knowledge on dueling." "I consider that man more of a father than my blood one. He and I parted ways in Bruma not too long before I first came to what was once our camp. The rest is history." Latro smiled and took another sip of his whiskey. "You served as a housecarl, a position in Skyrim that has no shortage of songs written about everyone who's held the title since Jorrun the Skald-King's time? No one who's done that could be a good for nothing lout." Latro smiled as best he could, "At least you had purpose in that. I've known worse folk, I can tell you that. I wouldn't hesitate to, uh, let you stand at my back so the world may not overtake us, as the Companions of Jorrvaskr say." "Purpose is only good if you believe in what you're doing. When you lose that, what else is there?" She grumbled to herself, "Well, I'll give you my word on that. If you ever need protecting, or healing for that matter, you can count on me to be there."  "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're stalking me, Brynja." Daro'Vasora said, having arrived at the counter, taking a seat next to Latro with a drink in hand she clearly didn't pay for. With the amount of people and unattended drinks laying around, it really was a paradise for five fingered discounts. "Afraid not, I had my own intentions on coming here tonight." Her tone was a bit cold, an indication of her lighthearted attitude souring at the arrival of Daro'Vasora, her smile dissipating as she remembered the Khajiit's surprised expression. She had asked Vasora to give Zegol the flowers, instead of doing it herself. And Vasora made it seem as if she had decapitated a dozen kittens before her. The Khajiit looked down the row at the others, wondering if there was an invitation that she somehow missed out on. A pang of envy and regret came and went with a heartbeat. It seemed to be a more spontaneous gathering rather than anything planned, and she wasn't exactly trying to keep in the graces of most of the people here. At least Durantel was nowhere to be seen; the Altmer probably carved Thalmor jargon on minorities to remind himself of home. "I trust you all are enjoying all the Imperial City has to offer. What's the occasion?" she asked, skeptically eyeing a bowl of pretzels a bit out of reach. They probably had been sitting there for some time. Alim wiped a bit of the froth off the corner of his mouth, giving an inviting smile to Daro'Vasora. He always felt somewhat comfortable and trusting with Khajiit from his time in their tropical homeland. He didn't know why that stuck out in his mind, but it had and he always felt a certain camraderie. "Just good timing and favor of the divines." Alim said to her, indicating how they all ended up here.  "How about you? Tired of roaming about?" "The Divines have a peculiar sense of humour." She murmoured in response, electing to shove the pretzels further away to eliminate the temptation. "And of course not, this just happens to be home. It's worth remembering you have somewhere to go back to between journeys." Alim hesitated by how she spoke, giving a slight squint of his eyes as they twinkled with a curious amusement. "By your home, do you mean this fine establishment, or the Imperial City?" He asked, wondering what tale she would have to tell if it was the latter.  "What, you think I'm a drunkard who spends more time in a tavern than at home?" Daro'Vasora challenged with mock indignance.  At first Alim felt as if he'd mispoken, but he knew a jest when he heard one. He was made of those! Feigning nonchalance, he sipped his drink. "The thought crossed my mind." But after a silence, he gave a grin showing he was kidding. Placing his drink down, he slapped the table. "You never said you came from here! Or...not in my presence." The Khajiit gestured for the barkeep to head her way, turning from Alim for the time being. "You never asked." she pointed out flatly, resting her elbows on the counter and cradling her fingers.  Meanwhile...  Meg was conveniently ignoring the conversation taking place, her eye on the pitcher Brynja had so generously allowed her to partake from. Her sorry ol' mug was empty yet again, the dratted thing. "Bah." Green eyes glancing about in a shifty manner, teeth biting down on her bottom lip in dire concentration, the still somewhat sneaky Nord pulled the pitcher closer to her with every word the others said, until at last it sat right before her. Grinning at her success, she brought it up to her lips and took a long, liberating swig, ignoring the beer that escaped her mouth and dripped down the sides of her chin. Latro had been pulled from the conversation at hand by the slightest bit of movement. At first, he thought it a trick of the eye, what with all the bustling of the other patrons and the bartender attending them. Then he was sure, the pitcher moved farther away, but only a hair's breadth. He watched its journey to the end, where it sat straight before Meg and she wasted no time in enjoying the pilfered pitcher by quoffing a good amount of it. He couldn't help but chuckle with a hand over his mouth, a canine pinning his lower lip down. The display definitely endeared Meg to him. If anything, this group he chose to travel with was turning out to be quite the bunch. "Mind sharing that?" He leaned over with that easy smile and said just loud enough for her to hear as she placed the pitcher down on the bartop. "Our secret." For a moment Meg was in comedic shock, eyes wide and mouth wide open, unable to fathom how her sneakiness had been so easily spotted and seen through. "Sh-share wha- oh..." The words [i]secret[/i] were something she was more than familiar with hearing, and immediately brought her grin back to her face and a sparkle to her eyes. "Psst," she whispered back. "If ya finish it without no one knowin', we could [i]probably[/i] get more... they're givin' Brynja for [i]free[/i] here!" With that said, she easily handed the pitcher over to him. Brynja, who in the depths of her drunkennes, had no inkling as to the espionage occuring behind her back. Her eyes were focused on Vasora, swaying only slightly in her chair as she squared her shoulders. "Someone once told me... that I'm a bit loose with my money. So I made a... proposition to the innkeeper. Give me free drinks, and board for two days, and I'll make him more money than what I ingest." She raised her eyebrow as she finished speaking. Though, to be quite certain, the expression on her face, one intended to impress, or rather hint at her capability of providing for herself despite her spending habits, was an over-exaggerated look. One that might appear more suave and deft, were she sober. But she looked a fool. "Well, let me be the first to counter that, dear friend." Latro said with a smile, then a hand covered his chuckle which masked the fact he was wiping the last vestiges of ale from his pointed chin. Just that moment, before Brynja could think of turning to face him, the barkeep replaced the pitcher. "You are a fine haggler. We've barely put a dent in this pitcher here." To Meg's credit, there wasn't much to finish off in the last pitcher, making it easy work for Latro to gulp down the bitter gold drink in mere moments. He winked to Meg and the two shared a smile at the harmless fun. Truth be told, he was beginning to like traveling with these people. He almost didn't want to think of the time close at hand that they'd all be parting ways. He at least hoped Brynja had given any more thought to his offer of traveling with him, and that Sora would keep in contact.