Market District: The Merchants Inn

Shafts of morning light pierced the sparse windows of the Merchant's Inn, illuminating floating particles of debris that floated lazily around the crystalline windows. It was rumored that the innkeeper had a certain obsession with cleanliness, and his establishment stood testament to that. The tables were polished to a mirror shine, their new coat of varnish evident to those with sensitive noses. 

As if determined to keep up his image of discipline and hygiene, the innkeeper stood behind the bar, torquing a rag within the confines of a glass stein. He was an Altmer - older looking. By human standards, he appeared in his fourties, but who could tell when it came to the Elves?

The tavern itself was relatively quiet. It was late enough that any prudent adventurers would have long since departed to continue in their travels, but early enough that any remaining souls would be sleeping off hang-overs earned from the past night's endeavors. 

The sound of booted heels knocking against the staircase, and the subsequent creaking of strained wood shattered the peaceful silence of the sanitary inn. A particularly short individual descended the steps, and walked seated himself at the center-most table; facing the door.

Last night, he had went all throughout the city, slapping makeshift posters and flyers onto building sides and bulletin boards, stating:

ADVENTURURS NEEDED

MANY TRESURE RE-WARD

FIND ME AT MERCHANTS INN. IM WARING A RED SCARF ON MY HED

Settled comfortably in the bar was Anrion, an unfamiliar face in the city. After selling his caught game to the local butchers, he had spied a recruitment poster by chance in the market, and had decided to investigate. Arriving to the inn relatively early, he had taken his spot in a corner so he might inconspicuously observe the patrons who entered, without really being observed himself. Anrion took another swig of his brandy and waited.

An Argonian huntress walked in the door of the pub and walked to the bar for some argonian bloodwine. As she walked she noticed the individual she was to meet by their crimson scarf. She takes her drink and then promptly seats herself at he center-most table and inquires, "So what's the job?"

Leaning against the back wall of the inn, the fully armored dame was propped up near the closest window, the light faintly gleaming off of the metal. Head low, she seemed deep in thought, not even bothering to notice the coming adventurers who entered.

I smirked at the poster. I did not find myself an adventurer but i did find myself in a great need of funds. And any reason to dawn my armor and sharpen my blade was a treasure in itself. I strode towards the inn, finding my 'red scarfed' head and sat close enough to hear if he spoke but not be spoken to. I took note of the armor around me and listened to the general talk of the inn around me.

The short man with the red bandana drummed his fingers against the well-kept tabletop as adventurers of all kinds seemed to flood into the inn. He smiled, trying to look as charismatic as a dirtied, thuggish elf could. 

He nodded at the Argonian as she seated herself at the table, and turned his attention to the scattering warriors and rangers. Maybe they were here for something else? The elf's face twisted with concern as a fully armored man with a drawn sword stepped into the tavern with a handful of his hard-work crumpled in an angry fist. He shifted uncomfortably.

The Elf cleared his throat, and opened his mouth to speak - pausing to give the others a moment to chime in, but ultimately shrugged before beginning. 

"R- right. The job. We're going to an Ayleid ruin just a tad bit North. I hear there's-- You know what? I really don't want to explain this twice." The elf stood up from his seat, the chair-legs creaking against the floor as he did so. The inn keeper cringed at what he assumed would be damage to his polished floorboards.

"Is anyone else here because of the flyer? No pussyfooting around - I need adventurers willing to work. So if you're here looking for the man in the red scarf," He pointed at his scalp, where the scarlet bandana sat. "Then I'm him."

Anrion grinned a little in spite of himself, grabbing hold of his bottle and uprooting himself from his spot, he padded over pulling his chair with him. "Aye." He stated simply. he spun the seat around and settled back into it at the elf's table. Taking a look about at the others gathered in the inn, this looked like quite a group. Anrion took another swig of his brew and waited for any others to announce themselves, or to sod off.

The Argonian took a swig of her wine and looks at the loudmouthed elf and replies, "Shadowscale Salmystra of Blackrose; ready for blood." She then proceeded to shift her tail and get more comfortable in waiting for the elf's job offer.

A loud clanking would resound from the background as Morwenna trudged forth, stopping behind the elf and towering over the small group. "I am listening, small one. Id like to hear more of what we'll be doing." she added, crossing her arms as she glanced over the others.

I was hoping to just listen in and decide after but it seems my choice is to be made now. I stood up and got closer to the short man, stood before the table and removed my helmet giving a curt nod to the man before sitting at the table. I glanced at the varied party around me and avoided eye contact with the Breton.

The elf nodded with approval as the stragglers seemed to gather around. "That's more like it..." He said, glancing warily over his shoulder at the Breton standing behind him. Slowly lowering himself back into the seat, he cleared his throat. 

"As I was saying, there's an Ayleid ruin a tad North of here. I've come into some information that there's a lot of treasure to be found within. Untouched, believe it or not! We all work together, and we walk away with our pockets lined in gold. Of course... We may not be the only ones who've heard of this little secret. Expect to see some competition."

He paused, rapping his fingertips against the table again. "Oh, and let's get introductions out of the way. I'd hate for any of you to die nameless. I'm Silvan."

As the elf gave his introductions, Anrion went over the possible ruins to the north of the Imperial capital, this could be worth his while. He leaned back in his chair and stretched out a little to get more comfortable. Leaning back into the table he spoke; "I'm Anrion, what kind of competition are we expecting?" He'd eliminate bandits without another thought, but he'd have to restrain himself on a common treasure hunter of thrillseeker.

As the adventurers kept announcing themselves Salmystra kept drinking her wine and looked out of the corner of her eyes to the companions she will be spilling blood with, and judging weather any of them were a threat to each other or themselves. Some will die, some will be wounded, and some perhaps shall gain the respect of this scaled one. She then spoke to the group "We need not weaknesssss." she hissed "Men and Mer alike have a nessssesity of self preservation. If you come with doubt of self, I will take your share and spare your self dissscover that would lead to death."

"Morwenna...lets try to keep needless killing to a minimum shall we?" she stated, becoming worrisome of this group. Quite a few looked certainly more vicious than she was accustomed to. Grabbing a seat from a nearby table, she also seated herself next to the 'red-headed' elf.

"Oh, you know - murderous cutthroats and bandits! Those kind of people." He said with a half-hearted chuckle. "They should be no match for you guys!"

Silvan glanced over towards Richard, raising a brow at him. He hated these types. The quiet, stare-y types. "Anyway, I'll escort you lot there, and we can get down to business. We'll have that treasure in no time at all, and we can all go our separate ways."

Cutthroats -and- bandits? Sounded like a good time with or without the treasure, with any luck, they'll have bounties posted for them. After one last draft from his bottle, he asked their host another question. "Are we headed over there tonight? If there are bandits, a night raid would be better." Anrion rummaged through his pack for a few septims to settle up with the barkeep as needed.

"You should calm your tone, lest you anger your host." she retorted, looking to Richard across the table. The last thing she needed was another fluke, especially due to a brutish man and his thirst for blood.

He cast a raised brow towards the strange Argonian, the rude warrior, the quiet knight, and the seemingly polite paladin. With a defeated shrug, he began again: "The ruin is a place named Sercen, since you asked so politely." Silvan said, his thin elven eyebrows scrunching together. 

"We'll leave as soon as we're ready. But as Anrion suggested, striking at night might be our best bet. It may even allow us to avoid a few conflicts." He said, giving the paladin behind him a slight nudge with his elbow. "But if you Iron-clad Ones start making noise, we may not have much of a choice."

"You might try stuffing rags in your armor, a trick some friends of mine taught me." Anrion suggested simply. He stood and lightly bounced the coin in his hand as he settled his tab with the barkeep. As he returned, he slung his bow and quiver over a shoulder and was ready to depart.