[i]Morning - Sunrise, 31st of Second Seed, 4E208 Gilane, Hammerfell[/i] [sub][i][@Father Hank], [@MacabreFox], [@Stormflyx], [@Dervish][/i][/sub] [hr] Sunlight slivered through a pair of heavy set curtains leading a line of light down the space between the beds. The first to stir was the red scaled argonian, Judena. She sat up pushing up against the soft bed digging the heel of her hand at the dry grit in her eyes. She squinted around a hand automatically patting, searching for her logbook. She counted the sleeping forms of Daro’Vasora, Rhona and.... Orc. There was an orc. The air was dry and they weren’t out in the open, confusion swept over her as it always did every morning. She blinked then looked down at her pages leaning to the light to read, no mention of orcs or new people joining as of her last log. A light hiss she leaned over grasping for her spear, using it to pull herself up out of the bed muscles stretching out. She trudged over to the respective bed and space of the unknown new member then proceeded to lightly poked her shoulder with the butt of it. Mazrah nearly jumped out of her skin the very second that Judena’s spear touched her and she shot up straight, eyes wide, throwing her hands up in a defensive posture, ready to fight for her life. Sleeping out in the wilderness as often as she did meant that she had to be ready to rumble every hour of every day. “I do not care how you found yourself in here but strangers are not welcome. Please leave, now.” Judena rumbled, her ‘beard’ inflating with irritation. “Go on.” Remembering where she was and what she’d done the night before, Mazrah breathed out slowly and dropped her hands. “Hey, lizard lady,” Mazrah hissed, trying to keep her voice down. “I came with the Khajiit, alright? The one over there.” She pointed to the sleeping form of the treasure hunter. “Daro’Vasora. We beat up some Redguard asshole that groped one of my friends and she helped me escape the guards. Then she told me about you people and that you could use someone like me.” Mazrah took another deep breath and exhaled. “Don’t touch me again when I’m sleeping, okay? Next time you might be dead before I wake up properly.” “My name is Judena Callisar. I do not rightfully like seeing strangers here, Rhea would not have allowed you to simply waltz in here in the middle of the night and Daro’Vasora should not have assumed others here would be as welcoming as she.” She replied, not appreciating the mild death threat. She looked to Daro’Vasora stalking over poking her next. “Daro’Vasora, wake up. Where is Rhea? Rhea would not have let a stranger inside our sleeping quarters in the middle of the night. We are sorting this out right now. Wake up.” Judena kneeled down shaking her shoulder. “What were you thinking?” “I’m awake, I just don’t care.” Daro’Vasora replied, half-truthfully. She opened a singular eye to glance back at Judena, and then Mazrah. She sighed, sitting up in the bed, pulling her knees up with her arms. “You should check your journals when you have a moment, but Rhea didn’t make it, Judena. It’s been over a week, and we are no longer in Anvil.” the Khajiit replied, glancing back to the Orc. “I was thinking we needed allies and she need a place to stay, and waking you lot up in the middle of the night invites daggers to the gut, so I elected to follow the philosophy of begging for forgiveness opposed to asking for permission.” Getting up from the bed, and still dressed as she was the night before, Daro’Vasora found a pitcher of water, and relieved, found it still had some in the container before pouring herself a goblet. “And for the record? Rhea literally picked a few of the people in our group along the way. Rhona, Calen, Gregor, all of them? She wasn’t the kind of person to think things through, but she had a good heart. You’re going to fault me for doing the same?” she asked, drinking back the goblet in a single go. Mazrah watched the exchange between Judena and Daro’Vasora with growing confusion. Orsimer seldom lived long enough to experience dementia and their skulls were so thick that brain injuries were rare. She’d never seen someone with memory loss like this. Nor did she know who Rhea was. “My name is Mazrah gra-Durash. I’m friendly, I swear,” she interjected, looking at Judena while she talked. “Don’t be mad.” Judena backed away from Daro’Vasora, her ‘beard’ deflated shriveling back against her neck. She looked between the pair, dropping her spear. “A-A week? I-I did not read past the last log, I am - a thousand apologies Mazrah gra-Durash. I am very embarrassed for this.” She went back to her bed groping for her logbook, slight panic clear in her expression. Pressing the heel of her hand to her head, reading the day count since Rhea’s death on the previous page. She read back further on what happened, her notes dwindled in severity but the first day after had a few pages of detailed feelings. “I am not mad. I spoke without thought nor proper consultation. I need time after I first wake to get the need-to-know events read. I truly did not remember her death.” She said quietly, “Apologies, again.” Now Mazrah understood. She’d sat up straight while the Khajiit and the Argonian talked, resting her elbows on her knees, and she looked at Judena with pity. “Don’t worry about it,” she said quietly. The way Judena leafed through her journal to find her notes on the death of her friend, or at least comrade… it was one the saddest things Mazrah had ever seen. Daro’Vasora didn’t react, at least not visibly. She knew that Judena didn’t need to be pitied for what she endured, but needed to be respected for what she could do. It required patience and thought, but the Argonian was a capable woman and someone who preserved despite being held back in such a tragic way. Still, it made the Khajiit’s heart ache to have to go through this routine every day for the past week where Judena would have to relearn the news of Rhea’s death; it never got easier for Judena, it seemed, and the worst part was there was nothing anyone could to do ease the impact. “It’s okay, Judena. I would have told you and the others sooner, but it was a rather spontaneous choice. To me, this fancy palace of a hotel is only a better smelling and providing version of the refugee camp. This space isn’t really ours, it’s borrowed, and we have a job to do if we wish to keep staying here.” Daro’Vasora explained, pulling the curtains more to the side to allow a better view at the city below. Topping up the goblet again, she stepped out onto the balcony, sitting on the edge of the stone railing as she looked back inside. “I would not have invited Mazrah back if I suspected for a moment she had any ounce of deception or ill-intent within her. We need people who can do things that we cannot, and I don’t know about you, but I am not exactly the most physically robust of people. There’s going to be a fight or two in the days ahead, and I’d rather we have someone better at it than they do.” Judena slowly nodded, reading quickly. “Hammerfell that is why the air is so dry, the city is occupied by the Dwemer. They have their own government, even brought families with them.” Gold eyes filling now with curiosity. “Mazrah,” She penned a new line in the next day writing her name. “You look very strong.” Making a light joke, hoping to move on from her blunder, “Robust may be an understatement, my friend.” She said to Daro’Vasora, hissing out a chuckle. She stood from her bed, hand out now, “I am an alteration mage and historical item appraiser. Thank you for your patience.” Mazrah also got to her feet and noticed, much to her amazement, that Judena matched her own height. She grinned and shook the Argonian’s hand. “Thank you, Judena. I’m a hunter and a warrior from Orsinium. A mage, eh? I haven’t met a lot of mages before. Some of the Wise Women know magic, but not much, and you know what the Redguards are like when it comes to magic. What can you do?” she asked, curious. Judena smiled finally, genuinely, “I would love to discuss over breakfast, I am quite the fisher as well.” She looked around once again eyes tracking to the bedding and decorations, “This is a far more posh establishment than what we are used to sleeping in I believe.” She whispered loudly to Sora. “Are we getting paid or paid with food and board…?” She shook her head. “I will continue reading, I will find out.” “Where is Raelynn? She seems to be missing from her bed.” The moment that the Argonian asked her question, was the moment that the Breton walked in. “I am here,” she said abruptly, eyes immediately on the Orsimer newcomer. “The curfew… I had to stay with my father last night.” She could barely concentrate on what she was saying to Judena, she was too busy gawking at the Orsimer - who had seemed to make herself at home already. [i]Typical![/i] was her first thought. Suddenly she didn't feel like sticking around much longer. She sauntered to her lockbox and plucked out her journal, a quill, ink, and an apple which she tossed gently over to Judena. “If you [i]ladies[/i] don't mind, I must do some writing.” Truthfully she didn't give a shit what they thought, and as she left out the balcony door - she gave an annoyed sigh and closed it behind her. Seeing Raelynn return and pout her way towards the balcony, Daro’Vasora headed back inside, offering the Breton a knowing wink as she passed and the door shut behind her. Looking to Judena, she shrugged. “I don’t know if compensation is even on the table, it’s some ideological thing. That said, we have a roof over our heads. Hopefully they elect to feed us, too.” “Good morning, Raelynn!” Judena waved as she walked by, watching her flee to the balcony. She really did value her privacy! She shined the apple against her sleeve. Rhona stirred instantly, somehow she had managed to sleep through the chat for the most part until Jude bid Raelynn good morning. She opened her eyes, and found herself staring at Judena, Daro’Vasora and a… impressive Orsimer woman. Rhona rubbed at her eyes, and sat up with a groan, she didn’t want to wake up just yet. Her eyes were red from sleep, look a bit disoriented and confused even. Mazrah looked at Rhona with a small frown as the Breton woman slowly woke up. She wouldn’t appreciate another admonishment and hoped that Judena hadn’t started a trend with the way she’d woken up. It would be nice if people could just be [i]welcoming.[/i] Fortunately, it looked like Rhona was more confused and groggy than anything else, and Mazrah put on the most affable smile she could muster. “Good morning,” she said. “I’m Mazrah gra-Durash, a hunter and warrior from Orsinium. Daro’Vasora brought me here last night after she helped me beat up a Redguard man that molested one of my friends. What’s your name?” Rhona’s brows furrowed at the newcomer, she identified herself and offered a seemingly wild explanation on why she was there, she didn’t question it. “Good morning, uh… Mazrah.” She slowed herself to make sure she pronounced her name to the best of her ability, “Rhona. I’m Rhona.” She slipped out of bed and moved to the water pitcher on her nightstand, where she poured herself a glass of water. She downed the tankard in one go before she returned her bed, taking a seat on the edge. “‘Beat up’ seems like such an inelegant way of saying we broke a few bones.” The Khajiit shrugged, lazily slumping down on her bed, adjusting the pillows so she could lean up against the wall. “Rhona is much more proficient at that sort of thing.” She mused, glancing over at the mousy woman. Her brows raised at Daro’Vasora’s mention, “I… did what I had to do.” She said, casting her eyes down to the floor. “Personally, I’m proud of you. From what I’ve picked up on the road since you joined us, the creep deserved it. You don’t strike me as the kind of girl who ripped wings off of butterflies for kicks as a kid, so going from ‘I don’t hurt people’ to turning some piece of shit into a tenderized piece of beef isn’t something that you seem like you’re used to. You’ve been haunted since you did that, so I can tell you aren’t used to this yet. Most of us had practice the past several years, it gets easier. You’ll probably have to do it again, just to let you know.” Daro’Vasora replied to Rhona, picking up her pack and rummaging through it. Casting her gaze between Daro’Vasora and Rhona as they talked, she grew increasingly more curious about what the two were discussing -- it sounded like Rhona had taught a lesson to a creep of her own. In total disregard (and, truthfully, ignorance) of social decorum, Mazrah spoke up. “What are you girls talking about? What did you do, Rhona?” She lifted her gaze, meeting the Orc woman’s golden eyes, “I… killed my husband.” Tilting her head and putting one hand on her hip, Mazrah looked at Rhona in a new light, her eyes twinkling with… what, exactly? Admiration? Approval? “Did you? Based on what our furry friend said, I assume he got it coming.” She smiled warmly. “Good job.” “He was a worthless piece of shit. Alcoholic. Gambler. Abusive. I ran away from him two years ago. But he found me after all this time in Skingrad. He threatened someone I love, and I had to protect him. So I made a bloody mess of his face.” Rhona said through a terse sigh. Even sat outside, on the balcony from behind the closed door, Raelynn could hear every word being spoken. Murder? [i]Molesting?[/i] Disgusting topics of conversation to be having this early in the day. What were they thinking. Her lips curled into an unimpressed snarl and she sighed, heaving herself from the chair, hands slamming on the table. She burst through the door, her patience at its end. “Can you all please cease this horrendous din?” the words came out just loud enough for everyone to hear, “I can hear you from out there and it’s turning my stomach over…” She rolled her eyes, standing in the doorway, lips pursed. “Please,” she began again, a slight hint of exasperation in her voice, “we’re women and you all sound like drunkards in a tavern…” “Are you saying that women can’t be drunkards in a tavern?” Daro’Vasora remarked with a smirk. “My, aren’t we entrenched in gender roles.” she said, pulling out her practice lock and a set of picks to keep her hands occupied as she glanced back towards the woman at the balcony. Mazrah stared at Raelynn, incredulous at what she was hearing. She hadn’t encountered this level of snobbiness since her short trip to High Rock. Then again, looking Raelynn up and down, she saw that the woman was Breton through and through. Still, there were no excuses for behavior like this. “We’re having a moment here,” Mazrah said. “Please leave.” She thought momentarily about engaging Daro’Vasora, but she realised that the Khajiit was just leaving bait for her to attack. It was too risky to test the Khajiit - not right now. Not after last night. The Orsimer, however, was fair game. “Leave my own room?” her eyes narrowed, and she let herself lean against the frame of the door. “Well, why don’t I just give you the clothes from my back too? It looks like you could use them.” “I don’t fit in children’s clothes,” Mazrah said and smirked. She was used to comments about her outfit, as bare-skinned as she was, and she knew that the other races didn’t understand the pride she took in the tattoos and ritual scars she bore on her body. There was no point in trying to explain. That prompted a muffled [I]snurk[/I] of a choked laugh from the Khajiit before she regained her composure. “Technically, it isn’t our room, either. It’s a loan for doing the dirty work for some Redguard fellow. I didn’t pay for this room, did you? She’s here for the same cause we are, so she’s welcome here as far as I’m concerned.” Raelynn clenched her jaw. Thinking of the ways she could bite back at both of them, but now wasn’t the time. “Well then, if it’s for the [i]cause[/i] Daro’Vasora, I shall just disregard all of this talk of murder altogether. All I ask, is you keep it down. I have work that I wish to do, I’m sure we can keep each other content in this situation…” Behind her eyes were daggers, aimed at her Khajiit companion. She ignored the loutish Orsimer completely. Daro’Vasora winked at Raelynn. “Well, better company than before you interrupted. You must have a lot of work about your story of a young butcher boy to put to parchment.” Rhona wasn’t prepared for this much sass and spitfire so early in the morning, she raised her brows in surprise as her gaze shifted between Raelynn to Daro’Vasora and Mazrah. She didn’t even know what to say at this point, “Well, we have a meeting in half an hour. We should make ourselves proper, at least.” Jude bit into her apple watching the conversation with a grin, meeting new people - especially after introductions was an experience she never tired of nor truly remembered. She considered the apple, fresh as this exchange. “Youth is so energetic first thing in the morning.”