[center][h3]Through the Shadows[/h3][/center] [hr] [sub]A Collab by [@POOHEAD189] and I[/sub] [i]Midnight, 5th of Second Seed [s]Inside Skingrad[/s][/i] Severus could have passed as an Altmer were it not for his light grey skin, his features were severe and stern in the glow of the magelight. He swept his free hand over Rhea, Alim, and himself before nodding, satisfied. Were it not for the orb in his hand, Severus’ lithe figure would have blended into the shadows. “Your footsteps are muffled, keep your voices down. The last thing I need is us being found out and thrown in the dungeons.” He hissed, voice low and harsh. Rhea shifted with uncertainty, glancing at Alim. Her own stomach worked itself in knots, Alim had put his life in her hands, and she wouldn’t forgive herself if anything happened to him. “What kind of supplies can you get us?” Rhea asked, following behind Severus as he turned to lead them on again. “What do you need?” “Food. Flour and meat mainly. Medicine. There are sick people in the camps-” “So we are clear, [i]I[/i] will not help you carry anything. You will have to carry what you can manage.” Severus cut her off, he still had yet to tell her what the price of sneaking in would cost. “Fair enough.” The time to reach the end of the tunnel only took half an hour before they came to a stop at an iron gate. Severus extinguished the magelight, and waited several tense minutes, their eyes adjusting to the darkness. Just when she thought of asking him what he was waiting for, Severus procured a key, slipped his arm through the iron bars, and inserted the key into the lock. With great care, he turned the key, a soft clicking from the inner mechanism, and then the lock popped open. Severus claimed the lock before it clattered to the ground, then pulled the gate open, a squeaky grating noise indicated that the tunnel, had indeed, not been used for quite some time. Severus turned to look at Rhea and Alim in the darkness, eyeing the two of them before settling on Alim. “I presume… that you are the one with a deft skill set?” The Redguard mutt nodded, a dagger twirling within his dexterous fingers before finding its way back into his sheath as if by the wind. Though despite the small boast, he had to admit he admired Rhea’s skills himself. “That’s why I’m here.” He said, and the spellsword looked to Rhea to get an indication that he should move forward. Back in Highrock, hell, back in Hammerfell, women were often seen as dainty and subordinate. Many of them actually preferred it from what he’d seen, wanting to have themselves being waited on hand and foot or not wanting the responsibility on their shoulders. But it was actually nice to see a woman leader, Alim thought. He respected everyone with the will and skill to operate a team like theirs. Once she gave him the go ahead, and he crept forward with silent footfalls, his sword out just in case there was a large rat or a weevil looking to take a bite out of his leg or hand. He had cast the enchantment of the storm upon it, to aid in its effectiveness and to give off a very faint glow they could be guided by. So far, the tunnel seemed empty. Bare rock mingled with old ruins, and more than once the spellsword had to step over rocks jutting out of the ground. But after a short while, they made it to the very end of the tunnel, and a basement doorway above them that Severus had designated to be the entryway. Alim turned to them and placed a finger to his lips, before opening the door slowly, dust falling in billowing waves as he lifted the block of wood to its zenith, before catching it so it wouldn’t fall and hit the ground with a clack. Once he hopped up, he held out a hand to help Rhea up, whereas Severus simply looked at his hand with disdain and clambered up his own way. Rhea took his hand and entered the basement, Severus just feet away from her. “No one has set foot in this house in twenty years,” he whispered, “The last occupant was a Thalmor supporter. The people here didn’t take to kindly to his indignant ways, and the Count locked him away in the dungeons below the castle. It has fallen into much disrepair since then. The guards must not have examined the house too closely or else this tunnel would have been sealed off.” With a ball of candlelight in his hand, he surveyed the basement, a simple layout where a stone staircase led into the inside. They made it through the house without any hindrances, dust covered the floorboards, while thick cobwebs hung in the entryways like ethereal curtains. Severus brushed them away without a care, and made his way to the front door. “Unfortunately, the key I have does not work on the doors of this house, just the gate.” Severus turned to Alim again, the Redguard proved useful in these situations. Alim took his cue, and reached within his pocket to fetch a lockpick, one of the many useful items he had procured from the Imperial City as it fell into ruin. He lamented such a beautiful city being ransacked, and its citizens butchered. But what rogue would he be if he didn’t capitalize on it just a bit? With moderation, of course. Alim undid the latch after a few moments of careful maneuvering with the pick, and a small ‘click’ announced his success. He then opened the door slowly, poking his head out slightly to see if the coast was clear. They followed Alim out onto the streets of Skingrad, Severus guiding them into the shadows as he explained, “By Count Hassildor’s orders, a registry of citizens have been compiled to ensure that no one has gone missing or rather, anyone has slipped inside. They’ve drawn up identification papers with the Count’s seal. We could all be jailed, or worse, if we are caught.” “Then what of you? Are you a citizen?” Rhea asked, wondering how severe the situation could become were they caught. “Of course I am.” Severus snapped, as if insulted by her question. “The warehouse I’m taking you to is heavily guarded, but there is an old entrance that they’ve overlooked. Redguard, we’re going to need your skills again. This entrance might not be heavily used, but it is still under heavy lock and key.” As they slipped through the shadows, Rhea trailing close behind Severus, he suddenly held out his arm, forcing her to a stop as he pushed her down. He dropped behind a crate, and waved Alim down. The sound of footsteps carried through the empty streets as torchfire illuminated the darkness. Steel helms glinted under the orange light as two guards rounded the corner patrolling the streets. “...it’s hard to say. Do you think it really is the Dwemer like the refugees say?” “I dunno… they spoke of floating ships in the sky, maybe the water was tainted with skooma?” “You idiot, then everyone would have had a different hallucination. Don’t you know how skooma works?” The two guards passed without so much as a glance at the shadows. The three of them waited several tense minutes before Severus gestured for them to rise. “There is an enforced curfew here as well. Everyone must be in their homes at sunset. If not you can face a tax, and in these times, a tax of any sort is the last thing you’d want.” Severus explained. “It would seem that the Count is profiting from the situation.” Rhea commented. “The people don’t see it as so, most still believe that he operates within their interest.” Alim smiled to himself, slightly amused that despite the different cultures of the world, many things still seemed to stay the same wherever he went. Even his father would sometimes take advantage of the common man, though Alim had seen he was a bit more lenient on his leadership and wealth than most nobles. They passed through the streets without a sound, the trio keeping their ears peeled for any sign that could threaten their livelihood, if they were caught now, all would be lost. Before long, a squat gray building came into view. Rhea picked up on the distinct noise of chatter coming from the opposite end of the building, most likely the entrance to the warehouse. Severus guided them into a darkened alley where a tower of wooden crates and barrels barricaded a weathered wooden door. Severus turned to Alim, his crimson eyes seemingly black in the shadows, foreign and alien, “Pick the lock if you can, but wait for me to return. Do not enter until I return.” He said, his words frigid with a degree of severity. With that, he disappeared around the corner, leaving Rhea and Alim alone in the dark. She sighed, and began to pick her way around the crates until she reached the door. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Alim still beside her after vaulting over a crate or two, he grabbed his unbroken lockpick once more. He gave her a sympathetic look, nodding. “Stealing is an acquired taste,” he said quietly. “At least for most. I started very young, and sometimes it even leaves a sour taste in my mouth...depending.” He began to pick the lock as he continued, feeling the small pins within the mechanism giving way. “I try to put my talents another way. Stealing from a tomb is far more lucrative and less harmful to the conscience than stealing from a middle class merchant.” The lock suddenly clicked, indicating the door was now open. “Though don’t fret over this. We’re in need of supplies. It goes to a good cause.” “A good cause…” she mumbled under her breath. Just then, the sound of light padded footsteps approached, Severus had returned. He climbed down beside Rhea and nodded. “The coast is clear. There are just two guards watching the front, and one inside asleep on duty.” He settled in beside Alim, and pushed opened the door with a soft hand. Nocturnal seemed to be guiding them on this night. “Take only what you can carry.” Severus slipped inside, not wishing to open the door more than necessary. They entered the back of the warehouse as Severus had said, this half was darkly lit, there were crates, barrels and sacks of food. Fearing that a noise would give them away, Rhea took to looking inside the sacks, opening them with shaking hands. She settled on taking what flour she could, filling a sackcloth she had brought with her, her hands covered in the white substance. The sound of a guard snoring echoed softly throughout the warehouse, and by the sound alone, he was in deep sleep, and so long as they didn’t break anything, they could get away with pilfering the supplies they needed. When she had filled the sack, Rhea crept to another crate, checking each one as she went, lifting the lids, and taking a handful of fruits and vegetables, stuffing them in her rucksack. “I can carry quite a bit.” Alim quipped, grabbing a dozen apples and slipping them into his rucksack, biting into an extra one. With it stuck to his teeth, he grabbed about seven potatoes, and four pounds of dried meat. However, when he saw the ale he nearly unloaded some of it. “I can make it fit…” he said to himself, and grabbed three bottles of fine ale. “That is what she said.” He declared aloud, and shoved two bottles into his rucksack, with one under his arm. He made his way around the crates silently and expertly, almost comically stepping over near impossible obstacles with his arms and sack full, showing rather impressive upper and lower body strength traversing through the room. Once grabbed a few more items, he found Rhea again, giving her a wink. “I think we are good.” Her eyes widened at the sight of Alim stacked full with supplies and then she grinned, she just pointed over her shoulder at the exit, and lead him back to the doorway. When they emerged on the other side, and Severus had shut the door behind them, Rhea turned to him, brows furrowed. “We still need medicine, and there wasn’t any in there.” She said, frustration painting her words. “What do you expect me to do?” Severus huffed. “We need supplies. Healing potions, bandages, and plenty of them.” Severus regarded her silently before shaking his head. “You ask too much. If you’re thief can get into the place, you’ll have free pickings. But if you’re caught… I’ll have to oust you as intruders. Understand?” He looked from Rhea to Alim. “Do you want to take that risk?” Alim nodded. “Yeah, sure.” Luckily, the apothecary was not far off. Down another alleyway and into the next street, Severus pointed Alim out to a modest shop made of timber, with a nondescript door under what had to be a gaudy and massive green sign that read [i]Roots and Stems[/i] with the symbol of a brewing concoction underneath it. Alim placed a hand on Rhea’s shoulder and said. “If anything happens, just get the hell out. I can take care of myself.” She sighed, what he asked was hard, but she nodded, “Healing potions and bandages.” She patted his shoulder, and crouched down in the darkness. The spellsword gave her a grin that showed all was well, and then ducked out of the alleyway and across the moonlit street, appearance as if but a passing shadow from a bird flying overhead. His footsteps were as silent as death under the porch, and in the shadows of the structure, he seemingly vanished. Rhea would only see the door suddenly open after a moment, and remain open for a few very tense minutes. It almost seemed as if someone had perhaps discovered him or he had been captured, before the door closed again. Alim then appeared within the street, as bag of items in tow and a twinkle in his dark eyes.. “And you doubted me,” he said, shaking his head. A potion of healing appeared in his hand, as if he plucked it out of thin air. She smiled at him, relieved and he had made out unscathed. “Let’s get back to camp.” Severus led them quickly through the streets of Skingrad and back to the vacant house they had used to slip through. Rhea and Alim were ladened with their pilfered items, making the return trip slow and filled with extra caution. It took them another hour to slip through the house and out the tunnel before the reached the outside. Rhona turned to Severus then, “And what of the payment?” He held a finger to his lips, a devilish smile crossing his lips as he stood in the entrance of the tunnel, and said, “I will collect that when it is due.” And he let the vines fall into place, leaving Rhea and Alim to make their rest of the way back to camp with nothing but the graying skies of dawn to light their way. They reached camp not even half an hour later, as the excitement carried them quickly, when they reached the camp, Rhea unpacked the items, careful not to rouse anyone from their. The campfire had dwindled low by then, and she added but a log to keep warm, her thoughts keeping her from sleep. Alim aided her in the endeavour, keeping silent as she and making sure that everything they had requisitioned from the city was still here. He might be a thief, but he wanted to make sure everyone got their due.