Janus suppressed the urge to grin at the travelling adventurers and sellswords that had approached his little table. It seemed that his bait was working perfectly. There seemed to be a varied group of sorts if a small one forming here, that would work well for his purposes.
"Well my friends, you seem capable and I'm willing to pay well for capable sorts, far more than the Fighters Guild's pittances! If you're looking for heavy work, I'm sure keen individuals like yourselves are aware by now that there's a small undead problem plaguing the desert. Going tomb-diving to thin the herd of them before they grow too large would do a lot to ease the public's concerns and make us all heroes of the common folks. Not to mention there are usually all sorts of old artifacts that are worth the risks for all of you. If you don't think you can handle that though, I'd be more than happy just compensating you for each bandit and robber you manage to permanently dissuade from that particular line of work. Safe roads and safe wildernesses make for easier trade, after all!"
Janus leaned over the table toward them, grinning conspiratorially in a way that seemed to stretch his scar tight across his face.
"I have better work, of course. The sort for which I'd make sure each worthy arm here could afford to live in luxury once all was said and done..."
With a gesture he slipped a gold septim out of his sleeve and twirled it between each finger, dancing it across his knuckles before flipping it to nestle in his palm where a second, third, fourth joined it before all vanished in time with a theatrical wink.
"...but first you have to prove your quality! A good merchant never buys without making an appraisal, after all!"
Janus Faustus sat at a small table in the back corner of the tavern, purposefully positioned so that he could scan the length and breadth of the room without exposing his back or leaving any unnecessary blind-spots in his vision. His coffee was as dark and bitter as his sense of humor, but at least it kept him awake and made the heat of the room seem more than bearable compared to the heat of his mug. It was true he was an Imperial, but he was sun dark and wore clothing in the airy, concealing desert fashion favored by those who chose function over fashion in the face of desert living. Today there was a single scar that ran from under his right eye across the length of his right cheek, a fake but an excellent one.
Occasionally, he would set down his mug and fiddle with the long dagger he wore on one hip, or adjust the short sword that balanced it on the opposite side as if he might have to clear them from their sheathes in a hurry, but other than this seeming habit he seemed to be a road-hardened tradesman long at ease in Hammerfell, as indicated by a number of rings on his fingers and a bulging coin purse at his waist. He watched the party of travelers as they entered and approached the bar. He'd paid the bartender in advance to direct any who might want rougher work over to his little table. After all, he was a man of means looking to get his name out there by financing parties of do-gooders for hire: an Adventure Capitalist of sorts.
At least, that was the rumor he'd paid the bartender to tell, the one he'd be peddling himself as well. For now, it was enough.
Appearance: Unremarkable is perhaps the best word to describe Janus Faustus's appearance. He's of average height for an Imperial, neither slim nor wide though now long years of training means there's quite a bit of whipcord-like muscle definition under whatever clothes he happens to wear. He a face that even his own mother, if she still lives, would be hard pressed to pick up out of a lineup.
This is all the more convenient for him, as it makes his disguises and false identities that much more memorable for others by comparison, even if all some of them require is the addition of an extra feature or two. The only really notable thing about him are his eyes. Brown but lively, keenly observant, and always warm and often lit from within as if he's aware of some private joke. Granted, that's often because he is, and the person he's talking to just isn't savvy enough to keep up with the fact that he's just told them two lies for every truth.
Personality: Janus Faustus had been a conman for years before he was ever recruited into the Blades and lying comes as easily to him as breathing. The cons were never just a way to make a livelihood for him, they were a way of life and a vital part of his identity. Even now that he willingly agrees to serve The Emperor and believes in his cause, his ability to use the skills that he cultivated in his youth are a major part of his motivations. The thrill and enjoyment of balancing not just his own actions in espionage but those of his agents and contacts is far more important to him than any sense of patriotism, religious duty to the Dragonborn or the like, though he will readily admit that he believes he's also doing good in the world with his work, most of the time.
Birthsign: The Thief, meaning only that he's slightly faster, more graceful and more prone to odd twists of luck than the average.
Skills: Janus is a man of many skills, though first and foremost he depends on his wits and personality to achieve his goals. He's a consummate charmer, trader, negotiator, manipulator, disguise artist, liar and cheater skilled at blending in seamlessly in most environments like he belongs. He's a good swordsman and fighter when armed with The Blades signature Akaviri equipment, but with most Tamriel-based weaponry he's average at best and prefers to have others do the rougher work for him and avoid violence if possible. He's also a competent sneak, pickpocket, and burglar when he has to be, a leftover from his pre-Blades days. He's decently skilled at illusion magic as well, though mostly to supplement his manipulations through Charming others, or occasionally supplementing his stealth. Janus's only other magical skill is enough Restoration knowledge to perform the equivalent of basic First Aid.
Equipment:
Brief History: A street urchin and a thief from his earliest memories, Janus Faustus grew up in the Imperial City living mainly in an abandoned dockside shack, picking pockets and begging to survive at first. Soon though, Janus realized he had a particular talent for faking, acting and fibbing for profit. It all started simple enough: elaborate backstories when he went around begging for coins, flashy distractions as childhood accomplices snatched a purse, the occasional exaggerated injury in the street to play on a merchant's guilt. But the thrill of deception was too good for Janus to content himself with petty trickery for long, especially as it upped his earnings.
One of the dockside merchants who'd caught wise to his little false injury gambit had Janus thrown into prison for a while in his early teens. But this only gave him access to the wisdom of more experienced thieves, and a place in Cyrodil's Thieves Guild. The Guild specialized more in smuggling and burglary than Janus's brand of thievery but nevertheless he learned and thrived with real tutors and resources to aid him. As he grew his lies became more complex and his targets grew in power and wealth, though it was always the risk and the 'game' that drove Janus more than money or status in the Guild. Merchants and guardsmen, mages and even nobles, eventually none were too high up for him to reach through cunning, or so he thought.
Janus became somewhat arrogant and his desire for both danger and excitement flared to reckless extremes. He decided he would become the most infamous conman in the world in the flashiest way possible: scamming the Empire itself by impersonating the Emperor. It began with getting description of the Emperor's armor and general impression out of soldiers who had attended military speeches, then several visits to an armorer and thorough application of black paint. Clad in feature concealing black armor, Janus Faustus made several 'appearances' as the Emperor, approaching numerous nobles and requesting donations of cash, lavish parties ans feasts or priceless family heirlooms in exchange for 'his august patronage'. Sometimes he would even insist that their new 'alliance' needed to be kept a matter of utmost secrecy 'until the time was right'.
Unfortunately but predictably, Janus eventually got in too deep and ran into retired Imperial General Tullius at one of these parties. Under scrutiny of someone far more familiar with the Emperor than himself, Janus Faustus's impersonation soon fell apart. Janus was sure that he would be executed for his crimes, so he was bewildered when he was brought before the Emperor in person. After having the true power of the Emperor less than gently 'demonstrated for him, Janus was recruited into the Blades, tasked with carrying out covert assignments for the good of the Empire, though his sentence was always left hanging over his head at first. Over time and with further training under the Blades, Janus rose up through the ranks until the Emperor gave him a very unusual promotion.
Janus was sent to Hammerfell to reinforce the Blades weak presence there as its' new Grandmaster, tasked with bringing the estranged province back into the fold directly by the Emperor.
Speaking of which, officially expressing interest as a potential member of the Blades, probably an Imperial with a mix of talky-ness, sword skills and some more stealthy and illusion-y stuff. Maybe a handler for some of the other PCs, storywise? Not sure.