The air was uncomfortably warm inside the chapel. The air outside of it had been pleasantly cold, the aroma of the mountain trees and flora lingering in the air. In here, though, the lit braziers made the air thicker, the incense they burned clouding her nostrils and making the woman feel too enclosed. She began to sweat beneath her cloak, which she’d refused to remove in the hopes that she would not be within the confines of these walls for very long. 

	Her eyes wandered those gathered. One Dunmer. Two Altmer. An Imperial. A Nord. And two Argonians. 
	These held her attention the longest; Sindri had never been so close to one of the lizard-folk. Her glances were quick so as to avoid inflicting insult, her eyes noting the bright scales of one, talons of the other. Of course, her mind wandered to the alchemical composition of each, and if she were to gather a shed scale or broken talon, what would come of them. 
	What did she know about Argonians? Very little, but she had a feeling there was something of their make-up that would prove interesting. 

	Sindri’s attention went to the Nord next, her pale gaze wandering his robes, though before she could build a single thought, the hairs on the back of her neck rose and Sindri shifted her weight from one foot to the other just as the chapel doors swung open. 
	Her skin crawled as if a handful of spiders were fleeing for cover across her skin as Sindri took note of the giant khajiit that ducked through the threshold. Her attention lingered on him as he strolled in under heavy guard. [i]Wounded[/i] guard, Sindri noted, the metallic stink of blood was faint but present amidst an onslaught of other scents. 
	
	Sindir rubbed her hands together, then pulled the cowl of her cloak over her mouth a nose.

	The large beast spoke, insisting on compliance while mentioning having thrown a [i]horse[/i], and Sindri’s left eyebrow rose.The guard left, and the khajiit offered a fanged smile that could have chilled the blood of lesser folk.The size of his teeth made Sindir wrinkle her nose as she turned to face the chapel speaker. 

	The woman spoke, setting before them their purpose. Sindri’s eyes wandered again, taking in the expressions and reactions. It was doubtful that any of them arrived here without at least an inkling of why they’d been recruited. The heavier details, of course, would have been left out until they were gathered here under the cover of darkness. 
	Through the day, Sindri had loitered unceremoniously in the cemetery behind the chapel, enjoying the breeze, the sun’s warmth, and the view of passers-by. When the sun had set, she’d moved down the road for a clear view of the chapel, watching those who entered for clues. 
	Chorrol was a Colovian town, which made it quite easy to pick out which pedestrians were not local. Like herself. Sindir had watched until at least half a dozen of those whom she assumed to be the recruited had slunk in through the chapel doors before she’d gathered her things and followed. 
	Tolerating the unease of having such a roof over her head, Sindri focused on the instructions, warning, and stipulations that came with their accepting the job. 
	As well as the offer of a blessing of [i]Talos[/i].

	Sindri took a half step back away from the woman, offering a curt shake of her head in declination. 

[color=99c3cc]“Is this a requirement?”[/color] She began, her eyes on the robed woman. [color=99c3cc]“That these provinces must worship Talos in order to be accepted into the Empire? Not all of those within the . . . [i]embrace[/i] of the Empire accept Talos. Those to whom we will speak do not. I know without doubt that not all of those within this building choose to do so. Or do you simply add it because you have chosen to worship as such?”[/color]