[center][h1]~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~[/h1][/center] Enathrae could not hide his immense pleasure, a wide mouthed grin split from ear to ear. A spectacular performance at the expense of the lady-knight and the floating, nose-offending corpse. At first it was only a chuckle that had escaped his lips but as the lady-knight stormed off passed his position near the stairs his body curled into boisterous laughter. The lich, arrogant enough to believe people would see beyond the wretched, wrinkled body of kindling and the lady-knight so hot under the collar as to stupidly initiate a negative conversation with a lich. A lich? What the hell was Havfyg up to? A lich, a were-croc, and a lady-knight walk into a tavern… that is it. There was no punchline. That was the joke. The dunmer was smart enough to keep his dark skinned ass in the alley to await the potential fall out of this leaking powdered keg. He was not about to be the fire to ignite this potential conflagration in these surroundings. [b]“I suppose it’s about time we should be hitting that dusty trail,”[/b] the Dunmer swooned as he turned towards the ascending staircase with his hands in his pockets. [b]“Foolish enough to piss off a lich…ha, a woman after my own heart.”[/b] Enathrae laughed jumping up the stairs two at a time. [center][h1]~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~[/h1][/center] With an attitude that made a mockery of determination, Enathrae meandered through the castle uninhibited. A few golden septims would not be missed, nor an apple or, [b]“Aw...let me guess, someone stole your sweetroll?”[/b] the Dunmer mocked to himself. He ran his tongue over his sticky lips, destroying any trace of evidence before moving on. Tossing the apple in the air, he contemplated his upcoming journey. Such a ragtag group of particularly pugnacious rapscallions on a journey to a place enshrouded in secrecy. The fools actively seek out the daedra, summoning their council as if it were merely a passing fancy. But why? Such a cryptic message from the college delivered by the King, a King that failed to provide any real answers. Some King eh? Perhaps it should be -king-...a wise man once contemplated that a man who must say he is the King is no true King. One might extrapolate that into including that a true King would have knowledge of his Kingdom and advisers in place that could appropriately deal with such matters. Perhaps this king is not so secure in his position. [I]”What is it that has you so frightened that you cannot send your own loyalist?”[/I] Before him stood such grandiose wooden doors, it was disgusting. So much larger than any man, or mer. Perhaps a giant would be better suited to room such an obvious and ostentatious overcompensation. The massive doors at least four men high and three men wide standing abreast was bound by iron. The exposed wood in between the iron straps intricately carved in depictions of fowl beasts and brave warriors. Despite the rudimentary pictograph’s overall appearance they were skillfully crafted with a level of respect for the trade rarely seen in this day and age. Enathrae stood for but a moment in admiration, not so much of the size but the artistic skill of the elementary artwork. With a wave of his hand, a servant was kind enough to force the door free of the proticulos. The city quickly opened before him, flooding the room with a torrent of scents that offended the nose and a cacophony of noises that were nothing less than ear shattering. It was a time of celebration. It was a time that Enathrae had hated, with the noted exception that it provided an adequate distraction for death. He took a bite of his burrowed apple, one hand in a pocket and made his way into the city. [center][h1]~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~[/h1][/center] It was disgusting. Never had his nose been assaulted so savagely. Simmering meat of an unknown nature in one direction, warm piss poor ale wafting over from another, and what had been the worst were the influence of that piss poor ale that had been discarded in every back alley and side street that he had the displeasure of walking by. It was a celebration alright. However, very few people enjoyed the jubilation with any couth. Such dirty things men were. So numerous that in most provinces of Tamriel they overtook the more civilized mer and brought them down to their level through fear of ostracization. It was more readily apparent in a place like Windhelm’s Grey Quarter. It was a perfect place to make an example of as they all soon learned. But despite Enathrae’s attempts, it was a lesson they soon forgot. But what are a few dead nords between mer? Enathrae found himself in the Talos District, which happened to be noticeably dangerous. There happened to be a very obvious separation. Those who followed king Havfyg and those who did not. As the sun moved lower into a sky that would soon be evening, tensions were rising. The altercations had not be physical as of yet, but he could sense something could easily go awry. Such things would make it difficult for him to move swiftly through the streets. Should he avoid such catastrophe? No, it would be against his nature to willing meander through a battle field and not take advantage. Killing of the innocent, even of the not so innocent was legitimate if it was done to advance himself or promote order. But it would be the order of king Havfyg and that was an order that was slowly beginning to grow sour in the pit of his stomach. Speaks the words to allow for the personal freedom to ensure self preservation, then determine the appropriate course of action. Could he kill Havfyg? There was not enough information available to him to tell. Too much power was at stake to make assumptions. The mer went to consume a bit more of his apple only to lay eyes upon that god awful mundane golden ring gifted to him by this mighty king. A mighty king who apparently could not afford anything of actual visual attraction. Could it read thoughts? It was provided that the ring would eliminate any potential threat to the king directly. But would it prevent any actions that were openly against the king? Questions perhaps for another time, another day - when there were not so many questions to consider in how to have this curse removed. [B]“What’s this?”[/B] Enathrae croaked under his breath, cocking his head in confusion. Who was this brazen woman so roughly manhandling the common nobility? What was she searching for. Such a fine grip upon the man’s arm. Of course, his mistake was allowing one to subdue him in the first place. But knowledge if the half of the battle most forget while they are wildly swinging their weapons this way and that. Quickly Enathrae found himself an inconspicuous locale from which to view the woman, following her movements to better understand what may be transpiring here. [center][h1]~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~[/h1][/center]