Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20151108001053/@comment-5543592-20151109002821

There was some time before three other men showed up. One, perhaps the most surprising, was a large Orc. His muscles were defined and one of his tusks were cracked. He had a proud, strong face, and might've been handsome had he not, well, been an Orc. He wore a cloth garmet, although it was thick and clearly intended to be some sort of armor, and found a seat on the far side of the room, away from everyone. He and Alecos nodded to each other.

The next entry was a High Elf. He was probably the shortest High Elf they'd ever seen, just a tad taller than your average Breton. He wore red robes, that let him stand out among the dark and decrepit room. He sat near the bar and smiled at both Vin and Blade, who were near him.

The third entry was a Nord. He was almost Alecos' height, just about average for a Nord. He was stocky, and wore the clothes one would expect of a common serf, although he did not carry himself as such at all. His clothes were loose, and seemed almost a size too big for him.

And the final entry was a Dunmer man, with narrow, unsuspecting features, in worn out laborers clothes, who looked very, very nervous.

"So..." Alecos began, stepping forwards, clapping his hands together. "Now that you're all here, let's begin.  You know who I am, I know who you are, and we're going to decide some things." He held up a finger. "First off, this here is Darich." He gestured to the Dunmer. "The contracter of this whole thing.  He's leader the serf rebellion, just outside of Mournhold."

"Yeah, we all know all that, Alec." The High Elf spoke up. "But why have you called us here?  This is the first job you're doing since you got back in Mournhold.  I expect big things."

Alecos smiled at that. "Gentlemen, and lady, the Ashen Empire has lasted a thousand years.  Through strength of arm alone, and with the buearucratic power the Sixth House offers, Dagoth Ur has kept it standing.  It's power has only grown more dominant, and not even the Isles have challenged it.  It's been opposed, it's borders strong.  Some people think it's unending, unstoppable."

"Agreed." Muttered the burly Nord.

"I've lead you all on some profitable jobs these last few years.  Put coins in your pockets, made you rich men.  But since I got back from the Fissions, I've seen things in a differet light.  For all the gold we stole, what difference did we make?  Did the Ashen Empire even bat an eye at the trouble we caused?"

"Well, my lord, Alec,"  the High Elf said, almost mocking the crewleader, "it was never about the trouble.  It was about the money."

Alecos smiled again. "Exactly.  That's what I want to change.  I want to do something different. Filling our pockets isn't fufilling, it isn't enough.  The serfs, us, are oppressed.  Dagoth Ur lives on, uncaring to the troubles we encounter every day.  He doesn't have to worry about an annoyed nobleman snapping his wife's neck, his children starving, or being accidently killed on the job.  No- but my goal is to stop that here.  I'm coming to you all with the proposition to over throw the Ashen Empire."

At that, Darich, the Dunmer rebel leader, seemed to sink down in his seat, like he realised how ridiculous that sounded.