Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20141207202844/@comment-3293219-20141209143414

It wasn't all fun and games in Cyrodiil, even among those outside of the Grand Prix. As night fell over the Imperial Province, a young-ish Imperial man in his thirties, short brown hair, stubble on his chin and a tired look on his face.

Atticus was paying the price for trying to ignore weeks and weeks of mounting paper work, so that he could pursue some hot cases. Most of which turned out to be duds or worse, cases so hot that they fell under the Empire’s jurisdiction.

Assholes…

Atticus took another swig of his bottle, he didn’t know what it was anymore, so long as it got him drunk then it was all that he needed right now. Though, if he was to give a serious guess, he would assume that it was scotch, from Elsweyr. Strong stuff, probably with a hint of moon sugar sprinkled in, to give it that extra kick.

The Imperial got back to work, sorting through the papers in front of him as he took another swig, noticing that his vision was starting to go. He sighed again as he placed the bottle on his table, turning around on his chair and looking out of the window, out into the smoky streets of the Imperial City as the fog of the factories made the view into a dense haze, like he was looking through a tinted window.

“Knock knock!” A voice called as another Imperial men came barging into his office, prompting Atticus to swivel around and face him, looking to the man with his tired eyes.

“Nathius… To what… What do I owe the pleasure?” The Imperial mocked, sitting back in his chair and reaching for his bottle again, getting the feeling that he would need it to get through this conversation.

The Imperial laughed, shaking his head as he looked down on Atticus’ papers, eyeing them all meaningfully.

“Damn… These cases?”

Atticus said nothing and took another swig before sighing and lowering the bottle.

“W-Were cases… N-Now they’re trash.” “Oh?” Nathius asked, quickly taking one of the sheets of paper and examining it with his eyes, it was an arson case, apparently it was quite a large scale arson attack, destroying a pretty large barn. The owners of the land expected it to be Adamantine sympathisers but Atticus claims to know better, to no one’s surprise.

“This… Dead end?”

Atticus held out his hand and took the sheet, knocking the scotch back as he ready through it before shaking his head.

“N-No… Empire pricks shtole that one… T-Turned out to be a Khajiit serving girl…”

“Empire? Sh-Shit, has this happened with all of them?”

Atticus just shrugged, which probably meant ‘yes,’ knowing him, they were all probably cases that had been stolen by the Empire.

“You know… You’d be better off doing more local cases, out there, in the city? You wouldn’t even know that there was a war on.” Nathius suggested, slowly wandering over to the window and looking up to the moons, Maser and Secunda, the only two entities that weren’t affected by this stupid war.

“Pfft… Besides the legions of dick heads, yelling about it.

Join today! What will you tell your children, in… shit knows how many years?

‘Well honey, your daddy was at home, not getting his ass frozen up in Windhelm, that’s where Daddy was…” The Imperial mocked, slowly standing up and dropping the, now empty, bottle of scotch into a waste paper bin.

“Yeah, ‘Daddy’ chose to drink himself to death instead…” Nathius mocked, smirking and chuckling to himself as he said it, prompting Atticus to dismiss him with a wave of his hand as he returned back to his desk, falling into his chair.

“Well, guess that it’s a good thing I came here then…”

“Hmm?”

“Got me a case, thought you might be able to help me on it.” The other Imperial informed him, removing a small sheet of paper from his pocket.

“We got us a runaway servant…”

“Runaway… Can servants run away? Sure they didn’t ‘wander off’ on purpose?”

“N-Nah, it isn’t like that…” Nathius explained, taking a seat on the desk and opening the fold of paper.

“Here, look… Nice family, up in Colonia wakes up one morning to find a servant, who’s lived there for ten years, nannied their children and pretty much became part of the family vanishes, without a trace.

You don’t find that to be the slightest bit odd?”

“She ran away… Met a fellah or something… The hell does it matter?”

“It matters, Atticus, because it’s my job to find her, just figured that you wouldn’t mind coming along to get your mind off of…” He paused, gesturing to the pile of papers on his table as Atticus shook his head.

“Well, this shit…”

Atticus just shook his head, dragging his hand down his face, through his eye as he rubbed his face up and down.

“I-I don’t know Nate… I mean, I need to get this shit cleared before I have Grey Beards knocking on my front door, trying to move into the summit.”

“You can charge ‘em rent.” Nathius mocked, chuckling to himself and shaking his head. “C’mon, just a weekend in Anvil, I’m not asking much here... C’mon, do it for me and your liver… Mostly for your liver…”

Atticus sighed and nodded, he did need to get out of this place, he was getting bored and depressed here and that made him want to drink.

“Alright… I’ll… Head down tomorrow, t-take a look…”

“Hey, that’s the spirit and who knows, this might not end with the Empire taking the case from us.” Nathius shrugged as if the possibility was likely, however, he had never had such problems and was beginning to suspect that Atticus was poking his nose in Empire Business, though he’d never say it.

“See you tomorrow, Atticus, stay off the sauce…”

"Prick..." The Imperial smirked, just as the door shut.