[h3][i]Anvil, 21st of Second Seed[/i][/h3]

As the group broke off from each other upon their arrival at Anvil, Anifaire set off to do the thing she'd been thinking about since they left Skingrad: getting the hell out of Cyrodiil. Anvil had a port, and though she'd done much of the last portion of her journey to the Imperial City on land, she knew there were options to travel by sea. While there were dangers to either route, at the moment, travelling by sea sounded like a relief. As did the idea of returning to her parents home.

The Altmer followed the main roads through the city the best she could, hoping to find some kind of market or city centre where she could access her parents' funds at a bank. Luckily, like most cities, it was less confusing than the Imperial City, and most large streets led to the same area as long as you were heading the right way. In not too long, Anifaire found herself at the centre of a bustling crowd, squinting around at signs trying to find a bank.

Once she spotted it, a large sign with a chest full of gold out front, she started pushing her way through the people. It was difficult; though tall, she was clearly a thin, willowy woman, and people didn't move instinctively out of her way as they would have in Auridon. [i]I don't look like a noblewoman anymore.[/i] 

She finally reached the edge of the crowd, bumping into a lightly armoured redguard who scowled at her before walking away, and she breathed a sigh of relief. The bank steps lay before her. She climbed up and headed inside. 

There was only a handful of people inside, so it didn't take long for her to reach the front of the line. The teller behind the counter was the only one, though there were armoured guards at the back of the room. The teller was an older Imperial man, with a pointy nose and a receding hairline.  

"And how can I help you?" he asked, his eyes scanning her up and down. Her clothes were ratty and dirty from repeated wear and travel, and no doubt he could smell her from farther away than she'd care to admit, but she stood tall, as would have been expected of her, and confidently answered his question despite the look of disdain on his face. 
 
"I am Anifaire Mirlinde and I would like to make a withdrawal from our family accounts." 

The man squinted at her and turned to pull out a large manuscript. He leafed through it faster than he could be reading the pages and as the seconds passed, Anifaire grew concerned. 

"Is there a problem?" she asked. 

"We do not have any dealings with a Mirlinde family." 

Anifaire leaned into the counter, concerned. "Of course you do. My father, Aronar Mirlinde, has dealings across the world. He's an important man in Alinor, a political leader." 

"Oh, in Alinor, you say?" The man's voice was filled with false joy. "And my mother's the Empress." He shrugged. "Next!" he called, passing her over. 

Anifaire didn't leave. "Wait! It's true! My family is important to Thalmor leadership, ask anybody!" 

"Thalmor, is it?" The man snorted. "Get out of my bank." 

"You have to help me, I need to buy passage back to Alinor, or at least write a letter! I have nothing," she exclaimed, but the teller had waved over one of the guards. He wore heavy plated armour, and his head covered by a full helm. He grabbed her by the arm and hauled her along beside him as though she weighed almost nothing. The other patrons in the bank backed up to allow him to pass by, eyes wide at the scene being made. 

"Thalmor bitch," she heard someone say, but she wasn't sure if it was the guard or a patron. 

He pushed the door open and tossed her, literally, down the steps. She tripped over her own feet, unable to catch herself, and tumbled down the three stone steps, landing in a heap at the bottom. 

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded. "I come from an important family. We have funds in every banking company in the Empire! Shouldn't you all be more thankful - after all, didn't the Dominion just help you guys in Skingrad?" 

The guard was already back inside the bank by the time she'd finished her sentence, but as she moved to stand up, trying to dust herself off, she noticed another set of steel boots step in front of her. She looked up, startled, met with a city guard standing far too close to her. Someone behind her grabbed her by the arm and pulled her roughly to her feet - another guard. 

"Oh, from the Dominion, are you?" he jeered. 

"Looks like a street rat, to me," the other remarked. 

"Nah, nah, ya hear her voice? She's definitely Summerset Isles."

"I... My father is a prominent Tha-" she cut off, stepping back as the guards blocked her in. Suddenly, she wondered why she always found herself in these sorts of positions. While she'd first assumed the guards would be there to help her, she certainly didn't like the looks they were giving her.