Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24685738-20170605191359/@comment-5583506-20170606190220

News of princess Rhaela and prince Arik's wedding had come like a godsent gift to Catryn. The city guards were very suspicious of outsiders these days, and on this day of festivity they were more on alert than usual, on the outlook for troublemakers or potential assassins. Anything could happen when a royal wedding was to be ensued. However, knowing that the common mob required entertainment, especially when a majority of them wouldn't be able to watch the wedding ceremony itself, the guards turned a blind eye to a particular crew of men and women in the guise as merrymakers, fools, bards and jugglers. The "Crimson Circus", as they were called, had arrived at the Imperial City; a perfect opportunity to reap some rewards from the hands of those with more than they needed.

Torbjorn snorted and adjusted his hood somewhat as he rode in on Tyrant. He wasn't sure just how well-known he was outside the borders of Skyrim, but no doubt that someone would recognise a man with the left side of his face scorched like a wooden torch. In his own homeland he was a wanted man. Wanted for treason, for abandoning his king. He knew however that it wasn't Edeleif's orders. The poor boy-king most likely had no clue as to why his most loyal man was being persecuted. Torbjorn knew better. These were the orders of the counselors, the venomous serpents spewing their poison into the king's ear. Staunch supporters of the Morgan dynasty... far too loyal...

Loyal at the expense of their own people and their own oathsworn liege, only caring about furthering their own positions, their wealth, their renown and how many mistresses they could bed. It sickened him.

Should have slaughtered them all before leaving His Majesty in their corrupting grasp, Torbjorn lamented. Adill, my friend, watch over your son. You left him far too early.

"Stop that sulking!" hissed a voice from under a cloak, riding next to him. "Try to cheer up and look happy. These guards can smell when something is amiss from miles away."

Torbjorn scoffed. "I was serving in the Kingsguard for over twenty years, girl. Back before you even suckled at your mother's teat. These... I don't even know what to call them. Not guards anyhow. They are as far from experienced men as you can get. I know their type. Drunk on wine for most of the time, and will turn a blind eye to most mischief in return for some easy profit. There is nothing we have to fear from them."

"Still", Catryn said and smacked with her lips. "Would appreciate it if you could... you know... try not to look so bloody grim all the time. You appear as if you've just curb stomped a child and not even bothered to wipe the blood off your boots."

The group was stopped by a small troop of guards just outside the city gates. "Halt!" a red-bearded Imperial commanded and signaled for the troupe to make a stop. He ordered his companions to encircled the group and inspect their carriages. "What business do you have here?"

"Oh, we are but a travelling circus, sir", Catryn said, clearly knowing that the guard was no knight, but smoothing things over always helped. "Here to entertain the crowd on this day of festivity and celebration!"

"Uh-huh." The guard seemed to be cut from a different cloth than most men in his profession. "Here to trick coin out people, are we?"

"I beg your pardon, sir", Catryn said, acting as if she had been insulted. There were a lot of things Torbjorn could call her, but a bad actress was not among them. He couldn't help but feel as if she had been genuinely insulted by the guard's assumption. "I am both shocked and appalled! We are here for no other reason than to spread happiness and cheer. I wouldn't even dream of making a profit on this blessed day when our prince and princess are to be wed! Shame on you!"

Alright, now you are overdoing it.

The guard shrugged, not completely convinced. "And what is the name of this... band of yours?"

"The Crimson Circus, mylord. You won't find any more joyful chaps and gals in the whole of Tamriel!"

The guard cast a glance over at his colleagues, expecting them to have found something suspicious or out of order, but they all just shook their heads and continued their investigation.

"Now", Catryn said. "Would you not be so kind as to let us pass, my good sir? We wouldn't want to miss the wedding for all that is holy in this world."

The guard looked as if he considered letting them pass, but as soon as Catryn saw that he started to sway for an opposite opinion she immediately leaned forward, discreetly allowing the guard to stare directly into the cleavage of her bodice.

"We... I would be most grateful for your generosity."

The guard's jaw slightly dropped and Torbjorn made his best to cover up his hoarse scoff. Every man had a weakness. No matter how loyal or serious they appeared to be, they always had a soft spot. Catryn was a master to find those particular spots and manipulate them in her favor. It would appear as if she had found yet another victim.

Torbjorn was a bit disappointed, but not surprised. For once he thought that he had found a man whose loyalty couldn't be bought for either gold nor the warmth of a woman's touch.

The guard shifted uncomfortably, and Torbjorn was sure that from somewhere down in his armor there was a hard and sudden metallic clang sounding. The guard then motioned for his comrades to let them pass.

Catryn smiled seductively as they rode past him, and she made sure to blow him a kiss.

"With those methods of yours it's a wonder you aren't running this country yet", said Torbjorn.

"One small step at a time, you old grump."