Morrowind :: Vvardenfell :: Caldera :: Hales Gabbun must die. (Concluded.) Author Topic: Hales Gabbun must die. (Concluded.) (Read 104 times) Sneeuw New Face member is offline "Can I play with Madness?" The prophet looked and laughed at me. "Ha!" Joined: Aug 2007 Gender: Female Posts: 68 Location: Caldera. Hales Gabbun must die. (Concluded.) « Thread Started on Jan 22, 2008, 7:06pm » ((All right~y! Taking advantage of the new rule that it's okay to be in more than one place at once. Current RP takes place after Fungus Hunt and other RPs. Feel free to join me, people.)) In Caldera: Just Arrived It had taken Sneeuw much longer than she had expected to reach Caldera. But now that she was there, there was nothing left to do but... Sneeuw stared around at the various buildings and townspeople who passed by. It was early in the afternoon and plenty busy. People popped in and out of shops, or stood around in clusters talking. Now, who was she here for again? Sneeuw stuck a hand down her pocket and pulled out a wrinkly piece of parchment. She smoothed it out and read the note she had written for herself. "HALES GABBUN MUST DIE." In all capitals. "Oh yeah," Sneeuw murmured, her memory refreshed. She put the piece of paper away. Gabbun was a Bosmer who was a notorious smuggler, and therefore a wanted man. Sneeuw had received a contract from the Fighter's Guild to kill him and end his crimes. Killing contracts made Sneeuw uneasy, but murder was often called for no matter who she worked for, it seemed. So, she would do this task, and be paid good gold for it. She'd need the money; her only blouse had a hole in it, and her blade needed some repair as well. The Bosmer was hiding out somewhere in Caldera, exact location unknown. So Sneeuw could either start asking around, or she could look through each building. Sneeuw started for a building with a sign overhead (she paid no attention to a sign.) She'd start here. « Last Edit: Apr 3, 2008, 7:58pm by Sneeuw » Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged STRNG/ 20 DEX/ 13 END/ 16 INT/ 10 WIS/ 11 MAG/10 'Cause what the crickets see... is between you and me-ee-ee, and what the scarecrows think... would turn your pale cheek pink. Sneeuw New Face member is offline "Can I play with Madness?" The prophet looked and laughed at me. "Ha!" Joined: Aug 2007 Gender: Female Posts: 68 Location: Caldera. Re: Hales Gabbun must die. (Job.) « Reply #1 on Feb 26, 2008, 7:38pm » In Caldera: Visiting The Clothier Before Sneeuw could step into Shenk's Shovel, she had a thought. She wasn't looking her fresh and sparkly bestest at the moment, and whatever that had to do with the job at hand, she would still feel better if she had clean shoes to wear and a mended blouse. Hm. She still had a good amount of gold left. And there was a clothier right here in Caldera who specialized in Imperial fashions. Why not make a quick stop? She would still keep an eye out for her target. Turning aside from the edifice Shenk's Shovel, Sneeuw quickly made her way through town, her eyes moving restlessly over the buildings and inhabitants as she went. Where could this Hales Gabbun person be? Her first inclination would have been to check the tavern or inn. If he was hiding out, he might be staying in a room at the inn temporarily. That, or he had a friend here, with whom he was staying. Before she could make up her mind, Sneeuw had found the clothier's shop, next to the Mages Guild. She entered cautiously. The Altmer who owned the shop, Falanaamo, turned as soon as he heard the door open. "Welcome. How can I help you?" "Um," Sneeuw said, drawing closer. "This needs fixing-" she pointed at her sleeve, which bore a scorch mark. "Can you do that?" Falanaamo squinted, considering the sleeve. "Well, I can cut out the part that's burned, and sew a patch of similar shape there in its place. But even if I have a matching material- which I do- it'll probably still be conspicuous. Instead, you might buy a new blouse altogether." He wondered, briefly, how the Nord managed to burn her shoulder. Surely if it had been an accident with a candle, it would have gotten the cuff? "Oh, all right," Sneeuw said, frowning mildly. But she loved her blouse! Even if she got one identical to it, it just wouldn't be the same. As she thought it over, her arms snaked around her middle, hugging herself- or rather, her blouse. Poor blouse! It wasn't its fault that she did dangerous things! Well, if she bought a new one, that didn't mean she had to throw out the old one! She could keep it and love it even if she didn't wear it. But she'd feel all vulnerable without it! Dang it, why'd things have to be so complicated? She had things to do, people to kill! And she still needed new shoes! "All right," she said, finally making up her mind. "Um, instead, I would like a new pair of shoes?" "Certainly. But... what sort of shoes? What size?" Sneeuw looked around at the display. "Those ones," she said, quickly pointing out a pair of blue-green shoes- the fancy sort that had pointy, upturned toes. She hated that style, but she liked that color, and she only needed shoes until her boots were cleaned. Then she'd probably sell them or give them away. "My feet are THIS BIG," she informed the Elf, holding up her hands to demonstrate the measurement. "All right," said Falanaamo, studying her hands. "These shoes will need to be fixed a little before you can wear them, since they're a little too big for you right now. Will you come back later for them? It'll take me no more than an hour." "All right," said Sneeuw hesitantly. She wanted the shoes now. "I'll be back then." "Wait," the mer stopped her before she could leave. "Yes?" "Do you have the payment?" "Yes," said Sneeuw absently, pulling out a small bag of gold and crossing over to hand it to the Elf. He counted the gold in the bag quickly. It was a little higher than his asking price, but he wasn't about to say anything. "One hour," he repeated, holding up his finger. Then he left to gather his tools and start working on the shoes. Sneeuw puffed and left the shop, strolling through the streets once again. She quickly relocated Shenk's Shovel. It looked as though it might be a tavern. And judging by the size of the building, it probably offered rooms, too. She entered. « Last Edit: Apr 3, 2008, 7:23pm by Sneeuw » Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged STRNG/ 20 DEX/ 13 END/ 16 INT/ 10 WIS/ 11 MAG/10 'Cause what the crickets see... is between you and me-ee-ee, and what the scarecrows think... would turn your pale cheek pink. Sneeuw New Face member is offline "Can I play with Madness?" The prophet looked and laughed at me. "Ha!" Joined: Aug 2007 Gender: Female Posts: 68 Location: Caldera. Re: Hales Gabbun must die. (Job.) « Reply #2 on Mar 4, 2008, 8:20pm » In Caldera: Investigating Shenk's (Disclaimer: Memory's not too clear, so if I get anything wrong, lemme know. Post subject to editing in the future, perhaps.) She had stepped into a large, Imperial-fashioned room. Just before her, a Redguard man in fine clothing stood behind a wooden counter. Shenk, I presume, she thought to herself. To her left was another room; if she looked around the corner she would see another man inhabiting it. The place had some things in common with a bar in appearance- the wooden counter with the stools positioned in front of it and such. And yet it looked deserted for a bar. Perhaps Calderians were not such drinkers. This was plausible, as it was an Imperial settlement, and religious Imperials looked down on recreational drinking, it seemed... at least, that was all Sneeuw could make of the conspicuous absence of tavern patrons, other than it was not a tavern, of course. She approached the man behind the counter. "Are you Shenk, then?" she began. "Yes I am. Can I interest you in anything? Food, drinks?" "No thank you. Not at the moment. Do you rent out rooms?" "Yes, I do, as a matter of fact," replied the Redguard. "Will you be renting one, then?" "Do you mind if I take a look? I'd rather see the rooms before I pay for one..." She looked down at her feet, then tugged her skirt, trying to cover her boots with the hem. Then she glanced back up at the Redguard, whose face indicated he was thinking. "Sure. I don't see any harm in looking. But I'm not guaranteeing anything." "Understood." Inwardly, Sneeuw was cheering. It seemed quite possible to her that she would find the Bosmer upstairs. So up the stairs she tramped (before she forced herself to walk more quietly). When she reached the landing, she stopped and looked about. To her left was a large wooden door. Just ahead and also to the left were more stairs. She crossed to the door and tested the handle, surprised to find the door unlocked. She looked within, to find and ordinary-looking room, in which was a Khajiit, who turned around in surprise when his door was opened. "Sorry, didn't know this room was occupied," Sneeuw said quickly, shutting the door. She then turned around and went up the next flight of stairs, to the final level of the large edifice. Directly in front of her was another window. To her left, a door. The interior of this part of the building was covered in handsome, finely carved wooden paneling. Sneeuw appreciated it vaguely as she looked around from the landing. She went for the door on her left. This, too, was unlocked, but the room proved to be just a storage closet. Beyond the door was a hallway. When she headed down it, on her immediate left was a sturdy arched door. She tried the handle, and found the door was locked. What to do? She paused. Perhaps she should knock before she tried to unlock the door. She gave three, solid raps on the wood with her knuckles, and waited. No sound came from within the room. She slipped out her lockpick and quickly unlocked the door, surprised to have it unlock in just one try. Within was an ordinary-looking bedroom in the Imperial style. Alongside the wall was a bed with a crimson blanket tucked neatly on it, a crisp-looking pillow on top. At the head of the bed was a window that did not let in any light from outside. To the side of the bed was a crate serving as a nightstand, with a jug, a bottle, and a cup on it. Sneeuw withdrew from the room and carried on. At the end of the hall was one, final door. She knocked, then opened it. It was a large, very impressive room. On either side of the door were spiky potted plants. To her left, there was a wooden wine stand, with a few bottles in it, as well as a rectangular table with silverware on it. Just in front of her was a round table, with chairs on each side, laden with Imperial silverware and yellow plates. It looked as though someone would be expecting company later on in the evening. To her right was a closet. She went to it and opened it. Inside were a multitude of clothes, all of common make, all of the same general color- from yellowish-tan to brown. Sneeuw closed the closet and went on. On the right wall was a hutch, with plates and candles on it... and, on closer inspection, three bottles of flin. Sneeuw swiped these without even thinking about it. Beyond the hutch, pressed into the corner, was a table. In the center of the table was a piece of paper, with fourteen pieces of gold nestled on it. Sneeuw also took these. In the lefthand far corner of the room was a wooden canopy bed with blue-grey sheets. Lovely and spacious as the room was, it did not have what Sneeuw was looking for. So, with disappointment, she left and went downstairs. "How much to rent to the big room?" she half-joked to Shenk. "Actually, that one's reserved," Shenk replied, unaware of the humor in Sneeuw's tone. "Aw. That's too bad. It's a lovely room. Well, I'll see you later." She tromped out into the streets of Caldera once more. « Last Edit: Apr 3, 2008, 7:23pm by Sneeuw » Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged STRNG/ 20 DEX/ 13 END/ 16 INT/ 10 WIS/ 11 MAG/10 'Cause what the crickets see... is between you and me-ee-ee, and what the scarecrows think... would turn your pale cheek pink. Sneeuw New Face member is offline "Can I play with Madness?" The prophet looked and laughed at me. "Ha!" Joined: Aug 2007 Gender: Female Posts: 68 Location: Caldera. Re: Hales Gabbun must die. (Job.) « Reply #3 on Mar 18, 2008, 6:50pm » In Caldera: An Interesting Bit of Information Sneeuw ambled through the streets, checking out the buildings that lined them, and wondering where to look next. She estimated that about fifteen minutes had passed since she had visited the clothier, so it was not yet time to return for her shoes. Why did she even want shoes, anyway? So what if her boots had blood on them? People would just have to assume the best. Sneeuw became wrapped up in her thoughts as her feet took her here and there throughout the town. She was frowning at something when she swerved and almost ran into an Argonian woman. "Oh, sorry," Sneeuw said, then stopped. "Say. Can you help me, maybe?" The Argonian did not like Sneeuw any the better for having almost crashed into her, but she answered politely enough. "Depends. What do you need?" "Could you tell me maybe... about the latest rumors?" She had been about to ask if she'd seen a Bosmer newcomer in town, but then thought better of it. Talking to other people about her objective could alert the Bosmer to her presence. "Sure," said the Argonian, and then she launched into a tale about some Nord called "Throknolf the Craven", who certainly sounded like quite the character. Though the story had nothing to do with the Bosmer, Sneeuw would have liked to try to find this criminal's hideout, in her free time. Or, perhaps... perhaps Hales Gabbun was in cahoots with the Nord? "About how far a walk is it to this cave?" Sneeuw asked. "Not too far," said the Argonian. "All right. Thank you," Sneeuw said, walking off toward the Western part of town. She stood a moment, thinking. Would it take her more than an hour to find this little hide-out? How probable was it that she'd find her quarry there? Finally, Sneeuw decided that she'd head West and follow the road a bit, and if in twenty minutes she had not found the bandit's hide-away, she would return to town for the shoes she no longer wanted. « Last Edit: Apr 3, 2008, 7:24pm by Sneeuw » Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged STRNG/ 20 DEX/ 13 END/ 16 INT/ 10 WIS/ 11 MAG/10 'Cause what the crickets see... is between you and me-ee-ee, and what the scarecrows think... would turn your pale cheek pink. Sneeuw New Face member is offline "Can I play with Madness?" The prophet looked and laughed at me. "Ha!" Joined: Aug 2007 Gender: Female Posts: 68 Location: Caldera. Re: Hales Gabbun must die. (Job.) « Reply #4 on Apr 3, 2008, 6:07pm » In Caldera: Seeking Throknolf's Hide-Out And so Sneeuw set off, cutting a straight line across the land, ignoring hills but loosely keeping to the road, going mostly West, slightly North. At length she reached a crossroad and hooked a left, since that would continue to take her West. When she reached a large rock formation, a Nix-Hound surprised her by leaping out from behind it. Sneeuw's blade was out in a flash, and she left it lying on the ground, bleeding from the head. When she looked round she saw a shady nook between the mountains. Usually an indication of a hide-out tucked away. She drew closer, noting the pointy rock formations jutting out of the ground. Sure enough, a ramshackle wooden door was set into the rock. Sneeuw found that it was unlocked, and let herself in. Her eyes immediately had to adjust to the darkness within the cave. Sneeuw jumped as something brushed her face, but found it was just a vine hanging from the ceiling. She noticed there were quite a few of these, and made her way through the cave having to constantly brush them aside. It was not long before she met another person, who had her back turned. "Hello!" said Sneeuw. The Bosmer spun around with a snarl of surprise. "Is this Throknolf's place, then?" Rather than answer, the Wood Elf brandished a Dwemer axe and charged. Sneeuw yelped and turned aside as the axe came hurtling toward her head. A cluster of severed roots fell to the ground. "That's not nice," Sneeuw scolded, shaking her wakizashi at the woman in an admonitory way. But the woman only made another chop at Sneeuw's head with her axe. This time Sneeuw was better prepared, and as the woman's axe came toward her, she turned just aside and stabbed her wakizashi into the Bosmer's armpit. The woman screamed and dropped her axe. Before she could recover, Sneeuw slashed her throat, bringing a THUD and then an abrupt silence. It seemed the woman's screams, brief as they were, had been enough to alert the other cave-dwellers of an intruder's presence. A large Nord rushed into Sneeuw's line of sight, glancing down at the Bosmer's corpse, then shooting a glare at Sneeuw. "Come to take me, have ye? No one gets the jump on Throknolf the Craven!" he said, eliminating the necessity of asking any questions. "Come on and fight!" he roared, brandishing a Dwemer war axe (Sneeuw surmised that this lot of smugglers was a particularly successful batch, despite their odd array of cheap armor.) "Oh come on," Sneeuw said, waving her blood-soaked blade sideways at him, causing droplets to fly all over. "Can't we just talk?" "Coward!" rumbled Throknolf, and he came running, axe aloft. "They never want to talk," Sneeuw muttered, stepping forward to meet the Nord halfway. He raised his axe, preparing to bring it down on Sneeuw's shoulder, but she was faster, delivering a glancing blow to his midsection. It was then she realized he was wearing ringmail armor. Disgruntled, she tried to turn the attack around at the last minute, shoving her wakizashi into the space just below where the cuirass ended, and just above the pelvis. The Nord did not scream, but grunted, as blood began to dampen and spread around the area. He let out an explitive and swung the axe down heavily. Sneeuw immediately dropped to her knees as the Dwemer axe sunk into her arm, trying to shrink away as much as possible in the hopes of keeping the limb. Luckily Throknolf jerked his blade up and away from her arm, which was now spilling blood in rivulets to the ground and splattering Sneeuw's clothes. Sneeuw's first thought was to clutch the arm, but she resisted and jumped back to her feet, jolting forward and taking another stab at her enemy. This time, strangely, her blade lacerated the Nord's wrist, and more blood joined the scene. As the blood drained from the man's arm, he deftly switched his axe to his other hand, which impressed Sneeuw for a brief moment before she had to dodge another attack. He seemed just as proficient with his left hand as with his right. "Hey," Sneeuw said suddenly, as she ducked alongside his arm and knocked his axe-bearing fist aside. "You wouldn't happen to know anyone named Hales Gabbun, would you?" "Hrrgh?" Throknolf replied, stumbling backwards to get out of Sneeuw's range. "He's a Bosmer? Smuggler?" Sneeuw pushed on, crowding the Nord once again, but only making a halfhearted attempt to stab him. "No, I don't," said the Nord, still somewhat confused, and now moving sluggishly. "You'll want to stop now," Sneeuw said conversationally, dodging another chop from the axe. "You're losing quite a bit of blood." "N-never! No surrender!" Throknolf ejaculated, making another attempt at taking off Sneeuw's head with renewed vigor. This, however, only seemed to drain his reserves further. After a few more clever dodges, Sneeuw was able to further his fatigue. His axe slipped from his hand, and he dropped to the ground, trying to recover it. "I'll ask you again," Sneeuw said, lazily wiping her wakizashi off on her skirt. "Hales Gabbun? D'you know him?" "I think.. I..." said Throknolf dazedly, wanting nothing more than to lie down and start napping. "Tell 'em... tell 'em at Shenk's.. went down.. fighting.." He expired. "Oh, all right then," Sneeuw said, frowning. "I'll tell them." His ambidextrousness, after all, had been pretty impressive. Her enemy defeated, Sneeuw could now answer the urge to clutch at her shoulder. She winced as it throbbed in response to touch, and let out a fresh cascade of blood down her arm. Sneeuw put her wakizashi away for a moment and began to fumble with her pack. Finally, she had removed a healing potion. She tore the cork out with her teeth and belted down the potion. Relief came creeping through her body, stopping pains she hadn't even been aware of until now. It reached her shoulder and washed down her arm to the fingertips. Sneeuw could feel when the potion stopped working its magick. Her clothes sufficiently ruined, Sneeuw tore off her sleeve with only a few pangs of remorse. The gash in her arm was shallow and still bleeding, but Sneeuw imagined it had been much worse before the potion. It would have to do, for now. She dropped the bloodstained, tattered rag that was her sleeve and moved on. Wounded, she would have to be more cautious. She crept along, her path becoming steadily darker as she drew out of sight of the last torch. She froze when she sighted a figure in black, nearly blending with the shadows. As she watched, the black-clad woman shifted on her feet, staring off away from Sneeuw. Sneeuw tentatively took a step forward, then another. The woman did not turn. As Sneeuw crept closer, she noticed the large ears protruding from either side of the woman's head. A Dunmer, then. Sneeuw went over her options in her head. Cut her throat from behind? Trip her feet out from under her and knock her unconscious? Or... Or... possibly... magicka? It certainly had been a while, and with Sneeuw's skill, it was a bit of a gamble. But there was one spell that almost always worked for Sneeuw, and would do for her purposes. Sneeuw's breathing slowed as she put her emotions away, as if neatly tucking them into a cupboard. Finding her magicka was like looking through her closet for something she had kept stored for a long time... but it was unmistakable when she found it. No room for self-doubt... the woman still stood, her back turned. Sneeuw was hardly even aware that she was slowly, slowly, drawing even nearer. She wove the pattern carefully, awkwardly, focussing it to her hand. She could feel it tingle in her fingertips... Then, all at once, the woman turned, Sneeuw thrust her hand forward and caught the Dunmer in the chest, and a burst of cold shot from Sneeuw's hand into the woman's body, freezing the nearest arteries it came into contact with. The woman blinked, stunned, then slowly fell over. Sneeuw stared at the crumpled form on the floor, then at her hand, wriggling her fingers, amazed at her one-hit kill. The luckiest thing that had ever happened to Sneeuw, and the first time she had ever killed anyone with a spell. She would savor the memory for a long time. Suddenly Sneeuw was once again aware that time was elasping. She faltered, trying to decide whether or not she should turn back, when she noticed the sound of rushing water. Curious, she pressed forward, and found a large pool surrounded by jutting rocks. On the other side of the cavern wall was a small tunnel, through which a waterfall was thrusting through. Sneeuw stared at the water, then carefully began to pick her away through the rocks, descending into the pool. She dipped her foot in, then suddenly let go and dropped into the water, submerged over her head. She bobbed back to the surface a moment later, then quickly scrambled back out of the pool, water pouring from every loose bit of clothing and her hair. When she was able to stand up, she gathered her hand in a fist and squeezed, causing the water to gush out of her hair and down her back. Then Sneeuw glanced at the tunnel further on. There was light, and possibly more smugglers to contend with. But she was done here. It was obvious Hales Gabbun was not in league with these particular smugglers, and she had spent enough time here already. She made her way back the way she had come. « Last Edit: Apr 3, 2008, 7:24pm by Sneeuw » Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged STRNG/ 20 DEX/ 13 END/ 16 INT/ 10 WIS/ 11 MAG/10 'Cause what the crickets see... is between you and me-ee-ee, and what the scarecrows think... would turn your pale cheek pink. Sneeuw New Face member is offline "Can I play with Madness?" The prophet looked and laughed at me. "Ha!" Joined: Aug 2007 Gender: Female Posts: 68 Location: Caldera. Re: Hales Gabbun must die. (Job.) « Reply #5 on Apr 3, 2008, 7:13pm » In Caldera: Mission Accomplished Sneeuw trudged across the land, a slight breeze cutting straight through her clothes and making her delightfully cold. She reached town and faltered, knowing how she looked, then decided she didn't care, and continued on. Her first stop was Falanaamo's. She made a halfhearted attempt to shake most of the water off before stepping inside, then quickly located the Altmer. "Are those shoes done, then?" she said. "I finished them thirty minutes go," said Falanaamo, looking Sneeuw over disapprovingly. "Someone already came and bought them." "What? Why would you do that?" Sneeuw said, stamping her foot and sending little droplets of water spraying everywhere. "Did I not make it clear that you were return in time to pick them up?" said the Elf impatiently, taking out a handkerchief and starting to wipe the water from his counter. "Someone with your same size in footwear came and picked them up. You can have your gold back." "Nah, keep it," Sneeuw said, holding out a hand to stop him. "I'll be purchasing that set of clothes." She grinned embarrassedly, indicating the now missing sleeve. "Adventureres," Falanaamo muttered, grabbing a pile of folded clothing and thrusting them at her. "Thanks," Sneeuw said. Falanaamo spun around, showing the Sneeuw the broadside of his back, as Sneeuw began to pull the clothes on. "See you later," Sneeuw said, once she was dressed. She pulled on the hem and the sleeves experimentally- the clothes were a size or so too big for her, but they would do. Scandalized, the Altmer waved his hand sideways at Sneeuw, and quickly busied himself collecting some spools of thread. Sneeuw stepped out of the shop to another bracing breeze. "What to do with these rags?" she wondered aloud. She suddenly felt guilty. Rags? Was that any way to speak of the clothes that had served her so faithfully over the years? She wrung them out and tucked them away in her bag. She'd find a good use for them later. Her next stop was, of course, Shenk's. She stepped through the door, and to her surprise, there were actually people at the bar. A Bosmer, a Dunmer, and a Khajiit sat grouped together, drinking and talking. "Hello, tavern people," Sneeuw said loudly, and all present turned to look at her. "I would like to announce that Throknolf the Craven has been murdered by me, Sneeuw. He did not go down easily and I suffered injuries by his hand. He was a worthy warrior, smuggler or no, and could use his axe equally well in both hands. You may return to whatever you're doing." Shenk gave Sneeuw a disbelievingly look, then, shaking his head, resumed polishing a glass. The three men seated at the tavern were looking at Sneeuw distrustfully and muttering amongst themselves. Satisfied that she had granted a dying man his last wish, Sneeuw sat one stool down from the closest man, who was the Bosmer. Sneeuw looked him over carefully through the corner of her eye, then ordered some Sujamma (for the sake of having a reason for being there at the bar, and because she didn't dare spend much more of her money on expensive liquor.) "So," Sneeuw said, casually interrupting the conversation between the Bosmer and his companions, and ignoring the furtive looks she got. "Are you new in town?" The Bosmer turned around. He was an older man, by how many years Sneeuw could not guess, since it was difficult to tell with elves. His face suffered a speckling of knobbly scars like moles, and he had a beard that grew in odd, patchy tufts. And he was not friendly. "None of your business," he growled in a voice like nails and gravel. "Just makin' conversation," Sneeuw said apologetically, refusing to let this deter her. "I'm Sneeuw, like I said," she said, offering her hand for the man to shake. "I don't often come-" Sneeuw stopped short when the man snorted, then spat into her hand. She stared in horror as the glob of spit slid off her hand onto the counter, then frantically sought out her handkerchief, wiping furiously at the hand. The Bosmer and his friends laughed unpleasantly. "Er, right," she said with difficulty, unable to stop wiping her hand. "So, I'm Sneeuw, and I'm new here. And you would be?" She did not make the mistake of giving the man her hand twice. "Your daddy," replied the Wood Elf, and the Khajiit and Dunmer laughed even louder. Sneeuw felt fury like the ocean roaring in her head, but she stuffed it down, gritted her teeth, and kept trying. "Say," she said, spotting his shoes. "Those are some fancy shoes. Where'd you get them?" The Elf's next answer didn't bear mentioning. Fed up, Sneeuw stood, knocking her stool aside. "Look," she said, "Are you Hales Gabbun or aren't you?" "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not," said the Bosmer infuriatingly. "Maybe I'll tell you, for the right price," he added, leering. His friends leered mirroringly. Sneeuw forced herself calm, deciding to take a different tack. "All right," she said. "I'll pay you... but not here. Let's go outside." "How about let's go upstairs instead?" Another round of snickers. "Fine, let's," Sneeuw said sweetly. It would have taken someone with twice the brains of the three goons put together to detect the poison in her tone. "We're coming, too," the Dunmer stated, standing. "Tch, it's me she wants! Back off!" said the Bosmer, grinning from ear to ear. "Lead the way, sweetie." Sneeuw led the way upstairs, grinning horribly. This was Hales Gabbun, then, and he was a total jackanapes, which made her job so easy. Up and up she led him, to the large room at the end of the hall, which was still devoid of people. She turned around and unsheathed her blade in one movement, and before the greedy look on his face could turn to one of surprise or horror, she shoved the shortsword deep into his body. He dropped to the ground without a sound. Sneeuw shoved her blade in its sheathe and quickly left the room, then stopped, rushed back, and tore the shoes from the dead man's feet. Then she tumbled out the hall and down the stairs, to a chorus of jeers. Ignoring them, she stumbled out into the street, then made a bee-line for the Mage's Guild. She was hurrying because she did not want to give herself enough time to feel satisfied. It didn't seem appropriate, even if the man HAD been a criminal and a jerk. « Last Edit: Apr 3, 2008, 7:25pm by Sneeuw » Link to Post - Back to Top   Logged STRNG/ 20 DEX/ 13 END/ 16 INT/ 10 WIS/ 11 MAG/10 'Cause what the crickets see... is between you and me-ee-ee, and what the scarecrows think... would turn your pale cheek pink. 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