Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20160218224245/@comment-5543592-20160219014327

"Alright, Forks." Crimson said, settling back as the four mercenaries finished off the last verse. "You do one now."

Forks, the wiry Imperial scout with dark hair and tanned skin, smirked and nodded to one of the other mercenaries. "Have BeBe do it."

'Bebe,' a massive nord with a face only a mother could love and a head of patchy, falling out hair, snorted in disgust. His real alias was 'Bloodbath,' which he had picked himself, but no one except for (rarely) Crimson (usually only when the Archer wanted something) and Girth called him it, and he pretty much hated the nickname of his nickname.

Bebe held up one meaty finger in Forks' face, and looked upon the last mercenary, an Altmer of unusually short height who was missing an ear, lost to a vey close call with an axe.

The Altmer pursed his lips before selecting a song, belting out of the first few verses so that the others could get a hang of it.

"Old Billy Riley was a dancing master. Old Billy Riley, oh, Old Billy Riley!

Old Billy Riley's master of a drogher. Old Billy Riley, oh, Old Billy Riley!

Master of a drogher bound for Haafinger. Old Billy Riley, oh, Old Billy Riley!"

Scire halted dead in his tracks suddenly, and began to look around, scanning the foliage.