Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-19164168-20190522145433/@comment-33787399-20190527190326

"I trust that payment will follow." Jehan uttered to the man, recalling his weapon back to him. A pristine rapier worked itself out of a distant corpse, of which perhaps half a dozen were strewn about the woodland. A spurt of blood followed the rapier out of the man's torso, staining the green grass beneath as it slid across the site of the skirmish, gracefully landing in Jehan's extended palm. The rapier was enveloped in the same crimson hue that had also been the last thing these men had seen before they fell. He turned to the man that the group of bandits had attempted to seemingly mug.

The man, with unkempt hair and a dissheveled appearance, seemed rather stunned. The conflict had been over swiftly; for Jehan had managed to catch these would-be-robbers by surprise. An advantage that he had come to find could turn any tide of battle in a flash provdided he used it wisely. Jehan cocked his head as two piercing eyes fixed themselves on the man seated on the ground, obscured by the rather sinister iron mask that he wore. Several seconds had passed before the man was in his right mind to reply.

"Payment?" The man uttered, shaking his head as he rose on his feet - he nearly fell yet again, for he had been injured. A large cut ran across his upper thigh, and although bleeding, the blade hadn't run deep. "I'm afraid I possess none, kind fellow. I carry only a letter, which I was on my way delivering before these men ambushed me."

"I am not much with a letter, I'm afraid. Nor am I not interested in indulging myself in someone's personal affairs." Jehan curtly replied, seemingly dissapointed that his rescue didn't result in any reward of some kind. He seemed apathetic either way, considering his demeanor while he said it; in fact, according to the courier, he seemed rather aloof and nonchalant about the whole affair.

Somewhere, the man with the letter was not surprised. In fact, he seemed to have expected Jehan - somehow. "I believe sir, this letter will suffice as payment. For it is fitting we would cross paths here. I do not know the contents of this letter, but my intent is to give these to reputable mercenaries such as thyself. Considering you have aided me greatly, I think it is only fitting I would return the favor."

Jehan inquisitively raised an eyebrow, although ofcourse this was not visible under his iron faceguard. Before he could even decide to accept or decline the offer - if it was indeed an offer in the first place - the courier reached for a satchel that one of the highwaymen had taken from him, pulling it out of the dead hand that had clamped onto the bag. He removed a bloodstained envelope from its contents, neatly sealed.

Jehan hesitated for a moment as the courier extended this envelope. The circumstances were strange, no doubt. But he had nothing to lose per se. He could only satiate the curiousity that had taken a hold of him.

____

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"Perhaps. But if that were the case, the means of delivering it was anything but a standard one. I believe it is unrelated." Jehan retorted, duly noting the remark but nonetheless dismissing it in his own way. His boots, caked with mud and his blue cloak, stained with droplets of blood only visible to a keen eye. He seemed - no was, weary. His cost of having a companion placed a strain on him. Not just his magicka reserves, but what he felt was his general vigor as well. The true fight was taking place, nearly all the time.

As he approached the east gate, some of the few passersby that had taken notice of him furrowed their brows and cocked their heads curiously as he passed. He was somewhat known, to some extent. For the past years, he had called Cyrodiil and its City home, but mostly found himself on its outskirts, not exploring the fruits of decades of Imperial infrastructure. He found it bothersome. Noises, people, and the highwaymen here were not muggers or bandits; but men of supposed valor and patriotism donning fancy attire and luxurious apparel. Polticians and the like. And if war wasn't constantly looming because of them, it occurred because of a lack of effort of on their part, he had come to find.

"The biggest change of our lives, they said." Jehan muttered to himself (seemingly). He had left the courier without many answers, for the courier was either ignorant as he had claimed or secretive on purpose. Whatever the case, the wording of the letter was peculiar. Its intent all the more so. The directive that was issued just as enigmatic as the one who delivered it.

Over the course of some time that had passed, he had entered the City through the East and walked alongside the busy streets towards the West gate, figuring that if the group at the arena district was long gone they would head out of the city. He was not exactly sure who or what he was looking for. Perhaps some of the people around could help him, he figured. Mayhaps, he wasn't even the only person that had received this same letter?

He worked his way through the crowd that resumed their lives both entering and leaving the City through its western gate. As he was about to head outside, a certain remark was caught by Jehan by one of the people he had passed. As he looked towards the source of the voice.

Datadragon Seraphim wrote: "Eivyi. I don't have a last name. Now, before they get too far, don't you have a friend to chase down? I didn't know you were more interested in chatting me up than following the letter's instructions" said Eivyi, deciding not to divulge more than her given name, mainly because it would be easier if no one knew where she was actually from.

"It seems I am not alone in having to chase a friend down." Jehan said, halting near Ren en Eivyi. He spoke the word with a certain skepticism, as he was obviously not aware who this person was or what his intent was with him - or these people, even. He exchanged a couple of glances between the mage and the woman while he spoke. His voice sounded somewhat coarse while it was muffled by his mask.

"It seems this letter you speak of, is the same letter I received not too long ago. Its contents were vague, but I believe you two are a godsend. Surely one of you must know more about the whole affair than I do."

To those somewhat gifted in the magical arts, a second presence could be felt as soon as the spellsword had approached the two. An unseen one that emanated a certain hostility and unfriendliness. One that was suppressed and kept in check, but perhaps noticeable to  those with keen senses. However, no immediate threat was posed, but rather seemed to lurk in the background constantly, as if it was at a danger of pouncing on its target once the time was right.

Or perhaps that was just how Jehan felt in his own mind. He could not tell how obvious his situation was to most mages.

"Whatever information you could divulge, I would be grateful." He finished, calmly eying the two as he awaited a reply. Although the spellsword seemed more like a gruff knight or soldier rather than a sorcerer or procurer of treasures, he seemed well-spoken and polite enough that revealed some noble parentage or habits that didn't seem befitting of that of a normal mercenary.