Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20141207202844/@comment-3293219-20141209101910

(Wow, wasn't expecting that much content this morning. XD

Awesome!

Also, Emma quit, like a month ago, I don't think she's coming back, ever.)

The gates of Chorrol were slowly opened and a young-ish Redguard man was granted entrance to the city. He slowly wandered into the city, looking quite relaxed with his hands in his pockets, sleeve-less duster coat blowing in the summer breeze as he swaggered along, looking around at the city like he owned it.

The Redguard came to a stop as he saw a large statue in front of him, with two domineeringly tall figures, one holding the others as they lay limp in their arms.

The Saint of Sancre Tor memorial, he believed it to be called, a statue erected in commemoration for those who fell but these days, it means about as much as a ten ft tall statue of Lifts-Her-Tail polishing her master's spear.

The man sighed and shook his head, knowing full well that he had business to attend to, his contact was waiting for him, in the Grey Mare. Though the Inn had had multiple renovations and changed owner several times, it still remained as the lesser of the two taverns. The Redguard didn't care, since he was more focussed on his contact than drinking the swill that this place offered.

Well, for now at least...

The tavern smelt like a brewery, that had been lit on fire, the intoxicating smell hit him like a wave of heat that one would feel if they were to open an oven door. Still, it took a lot to turn this Redguard's stomach but even he found himself stopping and coughing for a moment at the smell of it before stepping inside.

"Kodlak!"

The Redguard looked up and saw a man, in purple robes, complete with a hood to match, stood in the corner. Few would dare to wear robes, except for priests, insane mages with a death wish and the Colonial Couriers. The Colonial Couriers were a rather controversial outfit, who prised on discretion above all else. They delivered all sorts of packages, some legal, some not and also brought messages to people, vocally and sometimes physically to.

They didn't operate outside of the Colonial Highlands as it was only the counties in this region that gave them jurisdiction, some suspected that they had the Count in their pocket, either through favours or blackmail.

The Hooded Courier beaconed 'Kodlak' over, with his finger, prompting the Redguard to approach. He was quite a strong looking man, who had a scar going diagonally across his face and had his hair in corn rows. (I think it's corn rows, I'm not exactly a barber)

"I take it that you're the Courier?" Kodlak asked, eyeing the man up and down, he fit the description, slimy guy, who you wouldn't trust with anything for any duration of time, yeah, he fit the bill perfectly.

"One of your clients sent me, yes, he's in need of your... Special talents."

Kodlak shrugged, it wasn't like he had much of a choice here...

"Alright, who do you want me to shoot, rob or blow up?"

"Er... N-No one, if possible, this job requires... discretion."

"Discretion? D'at why they sent the purple people eater to meet me?" Kodlak grinned, bearing his infuriatingly white teeth as he leant against the table, getting a tut from the Courier.

"If this is a 'discrete' task or whatever, then d'they want me to do it? Why not send you?"

"I fear that the sight of a Colonial Courier, in the vicinity will just arouse suspicion. If I were to do it, it would look like a calculated movement, you on the other hand, seem the sort who would do such things on a whim. No offence intended..."

"None taken, I love being called 'trash' by guys dressed up as giant blueberries." The Redguard replied, though he wasn't truly offended. He could afford nicer clothes, take up a respectable line of work but this attire, as strange as it is, helps him stand out a little more and why would he want a desk job? He'd blow his brains out, after a week.

"So, what's the job?" He added, noticing that he was plucking at the Pink Person's nerves.

The Courier sighed before removing some plans from his pocket, plans for a T2 motor car, obviously designed for a mechanic. He slid them across the table.

"Y-Yeah, if you're askin' me to fix your car? I-I'm gonna say, you'll have to find someone else..." Kodlak mocked, glancing down at the car.

"Not 'fix." The Courier replied, tapping it with his finger.

"Sabotage."

"Sabotage? So I do get to blow somethin' up?" Kodlak grinned, shaking his head and pulling the plans across the table.

"If I wanted it blown up, do you think that I would have come to you of all people? No, I just need it to..." He stopped to clear his throat.

"Malfunction, at an unfortunate time..."

"And... That 'unfortunate time' would be...?"

"During the grand prix, the client wishes to sabotage one of the racers. From what I understand, the racer is driving for a rival family, he wants to ensure that they don't win." The Courier explained as Kodlak examined the piece of paper. He had no idea what any of this meant but he was sure that throwing a wrench at 'No.3' might do enough damage and maybe he could disconnect the fuel pipe and reconnect it to...

He'll work on it.

"Alright, anythin' else?"

"Yes, ensure that you aren't seen, if possible, try not to make the sabotage too obvious. The less foul play implied here? The better..."

"Alrigh'... Guess I'm gonna go play mechanic then." The Redguard grumbled, folding the plans over and placing them in his pocket, the Courier rolled his eyes at his uncouth nature.

"By the way, there has been an issue, regarding payment..." The Courier added, slowly drawing out some forms.

"There doesn't seem to be a 'Cyrus Kodlak' registered at the Imperial Bank..."

"Wait... There's an 'Imperial Bank?" The Redguard asked, as if it was truly a revelation, prompting the Courier to sigh.

"Fine, I'll set up a dead drop on Hero Hill... You know where that is right?"

"I gotta go all the way to Hero Hill!?" Cyrus snapped, sighing heavily.

"Y-Yeah, thanks..."

"It was... An experience, doing business with you Mr Kodlak, I just hope that you're up to the task." The Courier replied as he slowly walked out of the tavern, leaving Cyrus to the task at hand.