[center][h1][b][i][u][colour=FB6222]Darmon[/colour][/u][/i][/b][/h1][/center]

Darmon was not a large man, and in the current cramped confines of the cell he’d been unceremoniously stuffed into, that was a bit of a blessing. Sitting against a wall, with his head back and eyes closed he sighed. [colour=FB6222][i]Things had been going so well.[/i][/colour] He thought, his mind wandering to the days prior. He’d made the trip all the way to the heart of the Empire to meet some old friends of the family and strike up some deals. To that end he’d been very successful, negotiating several deals for goods and luxuries from the Imperial City in exchange for raw resources and a few ‘exotics’ from Sentinel.

On top of that he’d found a lovely young woman who’d been fascinated by his stories of travel across Tamriel, and his many adventures and misadventures along the way…and the fact that her new husband had turned out to be as ‘lively’ and imaginative as a week old fish in matters that truely counted. So his days had been spent wheeling and dealing, listening to the wonderful sound of the clink of coin, and his evenings relaxing, telling stories and helping his new friend see what a man truly worth her time could do for (and to) her.

Then it all went to shit, at least on the personal side of things. That damned fight hadn’t gone the way folks had hoped and he’d found himself, admittedly not for the first time, running from the consequences of his actions; his hope was that while he was pursued, [i]she[/i] was able to make a clean break. Fortunately, though the jilted husband and his father [i]had[/i] caught him, they only managed a few good kicks before the Watch broke up the bar brawl. From the way he ached, Darmon was sure he had a couple of cracked ribs, but nothing a mouthful of a healing potions wouldn’t fix.

Not far off a rather battered looking Breton kid asked about cards or dice, and commented that they’d likely be here until morning. [colour=FB6222]”Sorry, no.”[/colour] He replied. [colour=FB6222]”Though hearing you say that, I’m kicking myself for not thinking to stash some in my robes-”[/colour] Any further comments stopped as nervous shouting from the guards echoed through the cell block. From his position he couldn’t see what caused the commotion, though he could guess the cause as the door opened and giant Kahjit was ‘guided’ inside. Raising a hand in greeting he also nodded to the giant orange furball. [colour=FB6222]”Darmon.”[/colour]