Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20170307215353/@comment-24141785-20170309192450

Freana, seated in one of the corner tables, was only on her first tankard of ale when the group entered; her desire for saving coin overwhelming her eagerness to drink heavily. She had been on the verge of renting a room, her patience thinning after bearing some drunken rambling from patrons, when a varied and incredibly odd batch strode in. She looked at them keenly as they dispersed, which only left her with more questions.

They certainly aren't a conventional bunch now, are they?

The Breton was bewildered. Her logic dictated that mercenary bands were supposed to look intimidating, or at the very least look as if they are part of the same union. But these people did not look like any ordinary group she had ever seen, nor like any she had participated in contracts with.

''They can't be working for anybody, pretty fucking obvious with their mismatched characters... They have to be mercenaries, or at least working for something that can land them a hefty reward.''

They're a fucking goldmine...

The Electromancer finished off her tankard and rose from the bench, carefully wading her way through towards the closest table that she had noticed some of the band sitting at. She approached one with a Dunmer an elderly Nordic man and a fellow she could not distinguish, coughing somewhat noticeably to gain their attention.

"You three are all with the group you came in with, right?" The Breton asked, wanting to be certain that she was talking to the right people. After all, small talk with anyone else would be wasting time.