[center][h3][color=#bdb76b]Keirthanil[/color][/h3][/center]
[hr]

[color=#bdb76b]"Yes, if you wish to sell the strength of your body to any who need a thug or desire mere entertainment, I doubt any of us have the desire to stop you. Just so long as you remember that we aren't supposed to make ourselves [i]too[/i] noticeable as of yet."[/color] He glanced over at their minotaur, and then once at Rela, before he snorted. [color=#bdb76b]"Too much [i]more,[/i] rather. I'm sure I'll have to keep an eye on my own back the entire time we're here."[/color]

While Sentinel was far more lush than it had been in prior centuries, the Alik'r desert shrinking more and more away from it, it was still the capital of the kingdom, and the backwards warriors who wandered within the desert proper still would make their way in and out of the city on a regular basis. While all of Hammerfell had suffered in the conflicts with the Aldmeri dominion, the desert dwellers maintained the greatest chip on their shoulders, it seemed like. Any Altmer was suspect; being one of upper class background, and a mage at that, only made one [i]more[/i] of a threat in their eyes.

It was surprisingly intelligent, for one of the races of mankind.

Meanwhile, he was left sharing a glorified doss-house outside the city walls, lacking his library, lacking the majority of his equipment, sweltering in the heat that suffused the region. While the [i]true[/i] desert may have been further inland, the coasts were rapidly coming to resemble swamp or jungle territory, and the city proper was not avoiding that fate for long.

Hot and [i]humid,[/i] when the wind blew from the sea; hot and [i]dry[/i] when it blew from inland. Uncomfortable either direction.

Where the minotaur shined his helmet, and the Telvanni girl contented herself with writing scrolls, Keirthanil was grinding ingredients together for some potions as they all sat. Flax seeds, stinkhorn caps, and blackberries. Nothing inspiring, especially given that he'd not had the time to piece together any of the equipment he'd unfortunately had to leave behind when he was ran out of the Summerset Isles. A mortar and pestle, glass bottles, a few ingredients...

And that was all.

[color=#bdb76b][i]Ah, what a cursed life...[/i][/color]

He had no clue what the Dragonguard or the Vigilant intended to do; perhaps they would join the other knightly-sort in finding whatever existed akin to the fighters' guild. Lacking any knowledge of who they could most easily [i]take[/i] funds from, then, the red-head at least had the right idea in pursuing some sort of service providing. [color=#bdb76b]"I suppose I'll make a trip to the market when I have the chance. We'll all need materials before too long, and alchemists, enchanters, and spell-scribers are always easy niches to compete in. I doubt they've many here that could put up much challenge for either myself or the Telvanni, given neither the Synod nor the College of Whispers have much presence here. Hedge mages can never put up much of a fight against those with a real education."[/color]

He looked back at Rela, nearly done with another scroll. [color=#bdb76b]"Revenge quests need funds as well, after all, and selling scrolls for those unintelligent enough to actually [i]learn[/i] is an easy way to make a profit."[/color]