Captain's path [completely and utterly open!]

[neopanther]

Winter in Uru’baen was harsh as ever. The cold was permeating deep into the walls of the house he called home – just outside of the walls of the castle, but within the main circle.

He kept his own home, as opposed to a chamber within the castle, for his own home meant he could do as he chose within his walls – not that something he would do within his own walls would be any different to that that he would do within the walls. However. Outside of the Castle, meant he could share his luxurious wages with the sparse family members of his that were left alive.

He pulled a heavy, plush cloak form the hook within the door, clasped it on about him, a beautiful sable exterior, and inside was lined with thick ermine fur. It was sumptuous, but Cadrin no longer valued it for it’s feel, only its ability to keep out the cold. He pulled the cloak tight about his shoulders, and opened the heavy door to be greeted by a bellow of wind that howled about his hallway. He stepped out quickly, and began down the path towards the kingdom’s castle.

As he walked, snow crunching underfoot, and flakes beginning to melt in his blond hair, he took very little notice of his surroundings, nor did he take much notice of the weight of his sword at his hip. Instead his focus was on his classes today, it might have been the depths of winter in Uru’baen, but that did not mean his classes would not continue.

Cadrin was over diligent, and his men resented him at times, but, generally? They knew it was for their own good, and it made them a stronger unit than the others of the army, well the majority, Cadrin liked to paint his own picture that they were in fact the very best, but there were a few units that did challenge them for that title, and one’s with captains a deal beyond his own years. He was the ‘boy captain’, the ‘prodigy’ apparently, he didn’t feel like that though.

Cadrin huffed out a plume of quickly condensing breath that blew away in the wind. The cold was biting deep, even with his cloak on. But he felt optimistic, once within the walls of the castle, he would be safe, back on ground he knew. Back where the winds wouldn’t be so bitter, where he could train, and warm quickly. His mind was rushed with prospects for what he would do, teach, drill into the head of his squad. He smiled faintly, and absently at a girl who passed, mind content for now.

[Elanzaros]

Mizaros didn’t like snow, at all. It seemed like one of those weathers that didn’t really serve any purpose other than to irritate the inhabitants of where it chose to strike, like drizzle, THE most pointless form of rain in the known universe. Admittedly it took rather a lot for Mizaros to genuinely like anything nowadays but he maintained that one day a time would come when he didn’t mutter darkly to himself over something that was happening. He had his usual look, the definitive air of one from beyond the Beors, namely like an elf only bigger and more toned. He didn’t understand the fuss over him being the first of his kind to visit this land of tyrannous rule by this man Galbatorix or whatever he preferred to be called. He simply couldn’t be bothered to get involved with all of this war stuff. He would work for whoever happened to have the most money and that usually meant the Empire, in fact he remembered only last week having a assassinate a Varden captain for the simple reason that no one else could get to him without causing a full scale skirmish. So Mizaros had simply blown up the building he was in, much more stealthy.

He sidled down the dim street with an incredibly nonchalant air about him as he swiftly snatched a roasted chicken leg from a passer by and ripped the meat from the bone. The man who had spotted the pointed ears looked surprised, as everyone knew that elves were not fans of meat. Tree huggers by nature as Mizaros liked to think of them, but to the hansom one from beyond the mountains, there was nothing better a chicken could die for than making him a little less hungry.

He watched the men and women bustle about their business and put a sulky look onto his face, people knew him to be the right hand man of the leader of a certain criminal organisation that was renounced world wide, but that was the last of people’s concern. What was more to their concern was that Mizaros had a habit of ‘spicing things up a bit’ whenever he judged the current goings on to be dull. There was of course that one time he had, by ways of magic, coated streets walls with the blood of its inhabitants and simply said afterwards ‘try shopping in that!’ Mizaros caught the eye of a girl as she passed by and turned around walking backwards for a moment as he said, “hello beautiful.” And boy was she beautiful.

He watched her go for a moment before grinning a slightly satisfied grin and swiftly removing the dual bladed weapon from his back and twirling it effortlessly in a quick blur as he sidled along. Stopping before a stall and gazing down at the fresh produce before gesturing to a slightly wet and frozen melon, saying to the man behind the stall. “Would you mind holding that up away from you face please?” Obviously preparing himself to slash through it as the man held up the melon away from his own skin, over the rest of his stock. ‘Please sir I only get a few of these to sell.’ He protested but still making no move to put the melon back down again.

“Really.” Mizaros said in an interested voice as he smiled slightly comfortingly at the man before saying, “its just that I happen to know the price your selling them for. I also happen to know that everyone around here struggles to afford water when it falls from the sky let alone melon. So are you really doing the public much good?” The man looked slightly guilty for a moment before Mizaros went on saying simply, “allow me to help the poor in a slightly more logical way.”

There was a quick blur, barely even a movement before the melon crashed back down onto the pile while its owner collapsed and a fairly vital part of him rolled some distance away. Mizaros turned o the crouching masses lining the streets with begging cups and said bountifully “enjoy your breakfast!” Before continuing to wander down the street, blowing some blood off of one of the blades as the sound of running feet could be heard I the scramble to seize the man’s produce.

[Kite]

*Daran slips through the city of Uru'baen, ill at ease in the city. The freezing city was surprisingly full of life in the streets, something that struck Daran as odd, wrapped in his black traveling robes. He looks around, wonder what the hell he has to do for the Empire, though he figures its the more shady type of job.*

"Let them tell me what they want me to do, so I can get out of this forsaken city!"

*Daran speaks in a normal voice, the sound being mostly masked by the din of the market, the masses of people going about their silly little buisness. He thinks to himself, "Screw em, they are just sheep for men like me to slip through on our way to money...". He wraps his fingers around the Kriegsmesser-style sword on his waist, just because he can, looking fairly odd, fairly intimidating to the average human, his stylishly messy black hair with white streaks flying a littl ein the wind, black traveling robe, and long sword creating a dramatic effect, just to kill time. People get out of Daran's way as Daran unsheathes his sword and lays the reverse edge of the sword, the dull back, upon his right shoulder, strolling down the market street.

Daran soon comes upon a fairly tall looking elf with a good sized sword talking to a merchant. Something about him seemed, intresting.... Intriguing. Out of place. Daran watches the man speak to the merchant for a few moments, then the elf moves.

The Elf swings on the merchant. Daran, trained for 6 years, and having another 8 of experience as a mercenary, realizes he swung on the merchant, and would have reacted to the swing, however he does not easily see the swing, just a slight blur. Daran doesn't know if he could have easily blocked it, or kept blocking it. The ending, however, was predictable. The beggars ran up to eat their fill and the elf walks off into the market and the sea of people.

Daran replays the scene in his mind, and comes to two conclusions. The first being that this man was extremely powerful, and therefor someone important. The second being that he had to be on the Empire's side, as such a blatent thing would be sure to gain some attention... Daran decides to keep an eye on him anyway, being still intrested, and slips into the market's sea of the poor with practiced ease, following the elf skillfully and carefully*

[neopanther]

The action occurring didn’t pass Cadrin too easily, he had spotted the elf casually intone towards a girl, but he wasn’t going to go making that his business, some men were cads, and well, he was not about to punish them all, that duty would be one that would never end.

Cadrin sighed, pulling his cloak tighter, green eyes darting to the newcomer. He coughed at something stuck in his throat, rolled his eyes, the elf, cut the melon in half and become the hero of half the townspeople. He sighed and shook his head.
Loosing his sword a little, so it wou;d be an easy draw, he had no intentions of fighting an elf, but he would not see Uru’baen go perturbed by this mercenary elf.

“Oi,” He called, jogging a few paces as he caught up to the elven man, catching pace with him smoothly as he went, rather non-threatening, “Come on now, what do you think you’re playing at man? You can’t go denying a man his trade. I’m sure you’d be irate if we locked you in the cells for a year or so and deprived you of your trade.” An idle threat, one he obviously didn’t intend on keeping. But it was more present to make a point.

He shook his head and eyed the elf warily, “Let’s not have any trouble eh?” He was a captain! Sure he wasn’t Law enforcement agencies, but he was a Captain, and indirectly? He was in charge of peacekeeping, and if this wanderer kept this pattern up? He would certainly be disrupting the peace.

Cadrin – observant as he was, had so far failed to notice the pace keeping and tracking of Daran behind them, but, he surely would not go unnoticed for too long by the elf, and if not, by an eagle-eyed captain of Galbatorix’s very own army.

((feels a tad short ))

[Elanzaros]

Mizaros paused in his sidling when he heard a shout, turning smoothly on the spot to face a human, of stocky build and had that air that most army people do. They have what Mizaros thought of as that bossy nature, the kind of person everyone shouts at in the middle of a crisis only to find that he is i fact the one who probably knows what he's doing a lot better than anyone else there shouting at him whats gone wrong. He considered the man as he spoke for a moment before his mouth slowly cracked into a wide grin and laughter sprang forth from his lungs, echoing around the street. "Judging by how far away his head is from his body, his trade is the last thing he'll be worrying about."

He was about to walk away still chuckling to himself when the last bit of what the man said caught his pointed ears. He turned back to the man, chuckling harder now. "Deprive me of my trade? Oooohhh i do love people like you, you make life so much more fun!" He flung his dual bladed weapon into the air casually in a spin so that it landed neatly and closely back in its sheath on his back. "Galbatorix wouldnt want me to have to escape from a prizon! What would he gain there? You see the reason i wander round doing this sort of stuff is quite simply because i can. I supply most of good old Galby's army for him, if it wasnt for me and my enterprise he would have lost the war a rather long time ago. But you wanna know the funny side of it?" He said leaning in slightly closer like a conspiritor in a secret room. "The Varden can tell much the same story. There will always be wars, its how the world works, humans cant live alongside each other nononononoooo, how dull would their lives be then? No no, what they really like nothing more is a damned good war to have some fun with."

Mizaros laughed a slightly wild laugh and turned away again holding his arms out wide as if in sudden joy as he said, "peaceful humans would be like long living lemmings, it just doesnt happen." He sighed i mirth for a minute before saying, "whats your name dear man? I sence that you could be of far more use than patrolling the streets looking after melon dealers."

[Kite]

*Daran watches the good captain run up to the elf, and start speaking with him, seemingly a little annoyed, though that could just be a misconception. Reading emotion at a distance was not Daran's strong point, though usually he didnt need to read it, usually it spoke for itself. Nevertheless, this was a more agitated seeming talk from the captain than would seem normal.

When the Elf starts to laugh and be fairly boisterous, when he started to be slightly playful with the officer, it would be easy to draw the conclusion that they are fairly chummy, that they could very well have been the best of friends. This helps to confirm the theory that the elf was working for the empire, as they were not fighting in any sort of way. Daran decides to slip up on them, sliding up carefully towards them. He begins to walk by the captain, then attempts to put a hand on the captain's shoulder, ready for a sudden response*

"Well Well, what a beautiful time to gather! Its a shame I wasn't invited!"

[neopanther]

Cadrin growled low, in a mildly intimidating way – so fine, softly softly wasn’t going to cut it. Malicious and vile… what a shame these people turned up in Uru’baen from time to time. But he knew how to deal with them when push came to shove. But for one thing at very least, Cadrin welcomed the sheathing of the man’s weapon, even if it was in an over exaggerative style. People like that grated on Cardin, thoroughly, down to every last nerve.

Cadrin stopped and stared at the man, thoroughly unimpressed as his faux fear settled in, mocking him. “I’ll have you know, King Galbatorix has more than enough methods to keep some one like you restrained. Trust me, I’ve been responsible for it before now.” He shook his head, “Even you are no match, nay, you’re no competition for a Rider. Good as you might me, mercenary.” His words spat as though there were a foul taste upon his tongue, “We shall win this war, with, or without your help. But nevertheless, mercenary, ours or otherwise, I will not have you doing these things to citizens that have nothing to do with our war. If you are within our walls, you will obey the Kings laws, if you chose otherwise? For you feel you are above the law? I will see to it personally that you are placed away for a very long time, even in comparison to your elven years.” This threat was not idle. Cadrin meant this, even though he knew he would have a hard time even attempting to suppress this elf. He knew no magic, but he sensed even this elf had some sort of levels, well mainly hoped, that he did. Surely he wouldn’t use magic against a man who could not? That would be dirty fight.

“Firstly, do not treat me like dirt, I deserve respect, and I’m hardly a street warden, your senses serve you well there at least,” He shook his head and looked at the man with a certain seriousness in those over-green eyes. “Captain Cadrin Thorsson, Sixth Division of King Galbatorix’s Imperial Army.” He introduced himself Formally, most men knew him, if not by looks then certainly by name, he was a young whirlwind to the army. But this didn’t placate him perfectly, he was not happy at this moment in time, and his hand was linked quite neatly to the hilt of his sword, even if it was just on the pommel.

But it was drawn in a flash as a hand caught him by the shoulder, mind jumped to conclusions and took to the newcomer as another man of the elf’s disposition, and that this was in fact an ambush. With a twirl, He stopped suddenly, noticing no weapon in the man’s hand. He pulled his arc to a halt, stopping himself about a hands breadth from the mans arm, to which he relaxed, and pulled the blade away, sheathing it, sharing an apologetic look with the oncomer.

“Well man, it’s possibly not the best of ideas to sneak up on a man who’s uncomfortable with his company, with someone less controlled you might lose an arm next time.” He shook his head, standing equally between the two men. Then suspicion aroused, he gave the newcomer a long searching look, not sure as to what to expect next from him, “Perhaps you weren’t invited because this was unplanned? Cadrin Thorsson, Sixth’s Captain.” He extended a gloved had, though remnants of suspicion lay on his face. He spared a thought – for a brief moment – that he would be late to training. He knew his Second man would have things in order by now. He was a good fellow. And besides, matters here were more pressing.