As the morningtime fills the sky above Ebonheart, so begins life it's regular turn.
Farmers march whistling to their fields while shopkeepers display their merchandise,
keeping an eye open for an early customer.
Here and there people gather up to gossip about the latest rumors or the latest fantastic
story. Things are like they have always been. Altough not everything seems to be like it
has always been.
More imperial ships than usual lay in the docks while there is an unusual activity on the Hawkmoth
courtyard.

A large crowd of men and women, adventurers and farmers, seem to have taken half of the
Hawkmoth courtyard. The other half seems to be sealed off by a wooden fence. There are three holes
in the fence that appearantly have to serve as passages to the other half.
Next to each passage the Imperials placed a table where an officer sat by, sided by a pile of forms.
Suddenly a soldier yells:"Form up three lines, one line in front of each table!" The mob seems to obbey
and forms up three lines. You witness how the men in front needs to fill in a form and sign it.
After that he is led to the other half of the courtyard. Soon it is your turn and you do like all the others
in front off you. While walking trough the passage you see how an Imperial Knight and a woman look down on you and the others.
They are clearly discussing something. You can't seem to recognise the armor the woman is wearing, nor the blade she is wearing on her back.
The discussion seems to come to an abrupt end as the woman walks away angry while the knight looks the other way

You four men gather up in front of a panflet. The Nord, the two Dunmer and the Imperial. It's the very same panflet
that convinced you to sign up.

Standing there Khamir looks around thinking he must be out of place. For everyone here seems to be seasoned adventurers or at least are outfitted like the such. He himself wears only a single pair of common clothes and a small wooden club he used for protection on the way. Looking at the group around him he trys to break the silence.

"Hello, for my name is Khamir and I for one am happy to be out of my mundane life and am ready to learn whatever may be tought to us. For what reasons did you all decide to join" he asks of the group and waits for their replies

Ooc: Dont know why people suscribe but then dont post? anyway we have a new player. Mettax!

As you men start to know eachother a little woodelf passes by.

He passes by leaving only a sligth breese...glancing at possible targets of an unseen hand...such a crowd makes the day...he thinks and passes bij a smal group.
He stops and turns his ear to the sounds of their voices...

Ooc: you see a young bosmer dressed in old common clothes, he keeps his steel longbow and arows close to his body, your words seems to intrest him.

OOC: Because we didn't know it had started

Erunánion checks his gear, and presents himself to the who named himself as Khamir. "Hail Khamir, i am Erunánion. I have joined to... remove myself from the public eye. I was an adventurer, and look forward to more of what i have so long been used to. And yourself?"

"A good reason, myself I joined out of boredom and lack of food. For I am but a mere farmer and a poor one at that. My only hope is I make a better sodier than I did a farmer." Khamir replies to Erunánion. " Not only that well... I'll save that story for another time. I have a feeling that we shall have plenty of time to get to know each other. Besides I grow hungry and it's been awhile since I have eaten anything at all."

Khamir stands awaiting for something to happen or waiting for orders, or what would be more to his liking is for supper.

ooc: And also Acoran joins in. Have fun

While you were busy talking to eachother there is all of a sudden a great rumor on the other side of the fence. One of the guards seems to have caught a young man. The boy clearly hasnt eaten in a few days and his clothes are but pieces of what they once were. One of the officers gets up and walks over to the guard.

"Explain yourself!"
"It's a thief, My Lord! I saw him pickpocking some of the folks on the courtyard!"

The officer looks down on the boy. He sighs and knods his head in disbelief.

"There is hard punishment for theft. It's a shame for such a youngster to spend many years in an imperial prison. I'll make you an offer."

The officer guides the young boy to the sign-up table and presents him one of the forms.

"Sign one of these and you'll be cleared from any bounty and you'll have your freedom back after you completed your service. Or do you prefer prison?"

You see how the officer waits for the boy's reply.

Karath glances at the page, then at the guard, stuttering he says, "m'lord, i'm real sorry and all but I can't read. 'r spell...."

The officer sighs. He knows these type of youngsters. They are more common these days. The Empire has promished to build a orphanage in Ebonheart but till this day no signs of the construction yet. He has pity with the young boy.

"On this paper stands that you will join up with the Legion. You get three hot meals per day and some armor and a sword. After you did your service, you are free to go where ever you wish too. Cleared from any crimes you may have commited, except for murder off-course. But I doubt you will have such an evil act on your conscience. Plus you'll make some money you can use for your very own perpuse. And if you can't read I'm sure there are a few men who'd be willing to teach you how to read and write. For now all you have to do is give me your name and I'll write it down. Then you just need to draw a little cross here witch means you are willing to join up. Altough I don't see much of another way in your situation... The army or jail. What is it going to be? Trust me, even where we are going you'll be better of than in those godforsaken prisons..."
The officer seems to be waiting for the boys reply.

"Must now even the less fortunate products of our society be pressed into the ranks of the military.. M'Lord..?" Asked Metthaï, while he searched his way true the crowd..his loud words became before toughts..but an arrow must finish his path.

"Whatever you are feeding your soldiers i'm sure there is spare for the likes of him..whatever crimes he might have commited i'm sure we can talk it out without sending victims to a place of war, clearly he is not known with the ways of battle and yet you are willing to send him straith into the path of an enemies blow...! Or..do our imperial brethren have no care for what dies in the name of the emperor...?" His eye's meet the officers face as he waits for a respons.

The officer looks down on the woodelf and clearly acts irritated by the woodelf.

"Rather great words for such a small man... There is much more to do in the army then to fight, woodelf... He may not like them but I doubt that he will like some years in an Imperial prison more... But since you are so concerning I might leave him under your supervision. Would you prefer that, woodelf? Afterall, arent we all going to Asgard?"

"You might as wel do that..supervision wil not make him the warrior he needs to be..But..."and he turns towards karath"..believe me friend... any option besides becoming the little slave to the likes of him is worth considering." Metthaï's eyes now calmly rest upons karath's face."you agree?"

As he waits for a reply his thoughts wonder'...this wasnt't supose to happen, the plan was simple ..sign.. skip in, do the crowd, skip out.. the boy could make that last part pritty complicated if not imposible...'

Karath thinks a moment, a little overwhelmed by all the sudden actions around him. He looks to the woodelf whom stood up for him, "I agree."

An imperial Runs through the people and and firmly stands in line "I would love to join hawkmoth sir,I already have My own imperial steel and blade,I will be with you all till whatever the end is!!!!"



OOC: just to tell ye guys I am an imperial with full imperial steel and carry a saber that used to be a pirates blade once,and also has a western common cloak for when it rains

Khamir after watching what has happened with the Wood Elf and the young boy. Then noticing the Imperial signing up full of loyalty turns to Erunánion and says "This might turn out to be an interesting turn of events in itself. Maybe we should go introduce ourselves to the young boy and the Wood Elf?"

He then walks over towards Karath and the Wood Elf stops near them and introduces himself, "Hello, My name is Khamir and I for one would like to say that was a good thing you did for the boy there Wood Elf. Sorry but I havn't caught your name yet."

Waiting stands waiting for a reply from the Wood Elf.

"Excellent idea Khamir. The lad looks like he could use some assurance."

Erunánion follows his companion and introduces himself likewise. Whilst waiting for a reply he glances about to see if the guard is going to drill them or move them off for training.

A tall well-dressed Nord strides across. Despite his elegant clothes he looks very much down on his luck, unkempt, dishevelled and in the very devil of a temper.

"I don't need to train. I've trained and strained until I am blue in the face. I should be doing the training. Can't you tell a real soldier when you see one?"

He stumbles but rights himself without falling. There is a strong smell of sujamma about him.

"Well, are you all deaf? Isn't anyone going to tell me what I'm doing here?"

He strides across to Erunánion with only one slight misstep.

"Torvild White-Tooth. You know the name of course." His words, though polite in themselves have a belligerant edge.

However, it is not difficult to see that the bravado, like the sujamma, is masking a very deep unhappiness. The Nord is completely out of his depth.

"But of course i have, Torvild. Your deeds are of great renown to myself and others." He speaks with complete sincerity [OOC:(think Carrot in the Discworld novels/OOC].
"Indeed i too have not much need of training, although it has been a long while since i last properly drilled myself. I would, however, like to know where we are to be sent, and when, for i am restless with no adventure."

He notices this new-comers apparent depression, but chooses not to remark upon it while he is under the influence, which he hopes the guards do not notice.

Torvild is a little mollified. "Look, it's not working for the government, is it? Governments and I..."

He subsides. Then suddenly and aggressively he adds: "Don't start categorising me just because I'm a Nord. I hate that. Everyone is entitled to be judged by what they do, not what they look like. Is that clear?"

Without waiting for a reply he adds. "I was a good spy, you know."

Khamir listening to Erunánion and Torvild's conversation begins to feel even more out of place. It seems that even his new friend is trained and although not trained frequently he seems to know what he is doing. Turning to Torvild and Erunánion he says," It is good that both of you are well trained but those like me need as much training as they can get. For if I want to survive the hardships that will be sure to come then I need to know how to use a sword and shield as well as possible. Yet, knowing that both of you are well trained will ease my mind. What better company can a person with little experiance ask for than well trained well experianced soldiers to fight by his side?" Khamir finishes and figits side to side being now even more nervous than he already was.

Torvild stares at the new speaker. "I might protect you, if I find you worth protecting. I won't think ill of you until you do something to make me but I won't think good of you either without some evidence."

It is perhaps at this point you realise there is no smell of alcohol on Torvild's breath.

He says: "I am prepared to die for my friends but friendship must be earned. Why have you come here?"

Metthaï waits till the raging nord to silence and with a calm voice replies to khamir:
"Hail and well met friend.." than turns his head towards Erunánion "..and a very good day to you to friend. Metthaï am I called Metthaï K'ha.. an as for my latest action, i do not need credit...this boys life cannot be held for granted bij some dubious officer but..than.. maybe the armies kitchen was not the worse place for the likes of him.
Metthaï lays his hand upon the shoulder of karath "But well... I'm sure well find something that suits you..."

All of a sudden a voice yells to the crowd. You look up and see a man on the walls. It's one of the three officers that were enlisting troops just a minute ago.

"Gentlemen and my lady's, to the left of you there is a door witch leads to the Hawkmoth armory! Go and fetch your armor and blade! If you think you have a better blade than the standard imperial broadsword just tell one of the troopers at the counter! Afterwards you are ordered to go to your barracks! There you have the rest of the day off. If you have anything left to do, write a letter to your mother or your girl than do it then! Tomorrow, we sail for Asgard! We eat at 7 pm and 7 am sharp! Anyone who doesnt hears the bell and misses suppertime will sail on an empty stumach!"

The crowd forms up a line and everyone waits for his turn to get his new uniform. Some act like a child who's waiting for it's gift, others arent very fond of the new armor they'll be wearing. As the line decreases it's Karath's turn. Metthai stands behind him. The trooper behind the counter looks suprised as he see's the young boy.

"You shouldnt be here, unless you aint as innocent as you look like... Let me have a look."

The trooper is starting to guess Karath's measure's.

"I'll see what I've got for you..."

After some minutes the trooper returns with a uniform that is clearly ment for the size of a woodelf.

"This should about do it..."

As Karath takes the armor from the trooper the man gives him an encouraging tap on the shoulder.

"Good luck, son..."

After Karath is Metthai's turn. The trooper has a quick look and takes one of the woodelfuniforms. Metthai curses himself for being here as he takes the armor and follows Karath. This wasnt exactly what he had planned.

After Metthai it's the drunk nord Torvild's turn. As he stand a bit dizy in front of the counter, the trooper barely looks up.

"One Nord uniform..."
"What about my armor? What should I do with this?"
"You might be willing to take it along your trip, mate. You could leave it here but you know, it might disapear..."

The Nord seems to be mumpling something as he follows the others. After the Nord it's Erunanion and Khamir's turn. The trooper has a quick look to each of them.

"Two Dunmer uniforms should do it."

Both men take the armor without any questions and go the way they saw the others leave.

Morgoth seems to be clossing the line. The trooper has a quick look at Morgoth's uniform and knods.

"Carry on..."

After retrieving your armor you walk down a passage deeper into the armory. You all end up in some small hall with several crates with imperial blades in it. A trooper asks everyone to calm down.

"Quiete please! Allright, for those of you who don't have a decent weapon, you may take one out of these crates. Tho, you shall not remove them from their sheathe! I do not want any fatal accidents! However, if you think your blade is far more better than one of these standard blades feel free to use it. If it breaks, you may ask for one of these blade at one of the provisionpoints!"

You see some of the men take a sword and admire it, other ignore the blades and are waiting for new orders. You are deciding wether to take a blade or not.

Metthaï steps forward and grabs a sword and without paying further attention to it
return's to his former place ..you hear him mumble something about..diner..sell..
Suddenly his eye's grow wild as he checks the room..the mumbling goes on and you clearly see he's looking for a way out..his eye's close themself and you see a dark fainth on his face...

Karath still ajusting teh armor, looksa t the swords then to teh officer. He casuoisly moves to him, "Um sir? I'm not so good with a sword."

Khamir after fitting the armor firmly onto himself walks up behind Karath and looks at the officer and says, "Unless you are going to train me with that I'm with Karath for I cannot use a sword but with practice I will be. Yet the sword will be better than this" Khamir looks down at his worn club. "Anything would be better than this." Khamir drops the club and reaches for one of the swords.

Khamir then walks to were Torvild is and says,"Sir, I wasn't calling us friends but we both are dressed in like uniforms and that by nature makes us allies. I was mearly stating the fact that..."Khamir pauses thinking how best to word this, not knowing how drunk Torvild is "We shall be fighting for the same cause and I for one wouldn't want to have to meet you on the field of battle." He really can't wait for a good hearty meal but for some reason he's begging to think meals won't be all that great here.

Torvild has kept his own armour in his rather heavy pack. He has a better sword than those provided.

"If we are to be fighting soon then it is to be hoped they have proper training facilities."

By this time it is clear to Khamir at least that the Nord is not at all drunk. For some reason he is pretending to be drunk.

*morgoth walks up to the counter*" I have my own blade, But I need a standard steel crossbow please".......

I also have my own imperial steel armour as you can see,and I will not need any training either,I can run as fast as any legionaire and I KNOW MY ARMOUR and weopons well enough...

The officer in the weaponsroom looks a bit strange to Morgoth. After deciding not to pay much more attention to the overactive Morgoth he turns his attention to the little boy and Kharim.

"Do not worry. The Asgardian forces have provided us with one of their excellent trainingfacility's near the great port of Sofia. The city where we will be sailing to tomorrow."

As everybody seems to be in order and fully equiped you are free to go to your barracks. The large group of new recruits is divided by ship they will be sailing on tomorrow. Fortunatly it seems you men will all be sailing on the same ship and also spend the night in the same quarter.

After everyone has been assigned to a ship and quarter you hear the bell witch is the signal for supper. You arent expecting much of a great meal but as you get in line to receive your platter you are overwhelmed with a good sent of the food.

Metthaï stand behind karath and whispers "so young fella does the sword suits you..?..Or...does your mind rather thinks distance and safety.. for i want to give you the option to stay at this side of the great waters, far from any war... "

As he waits for the young fellow to answer his eye's scan the room incase someone had heared his voice..

not sure who to talk to Morgoth talks in the groups general direction:

*are we allowed any alcahol on this trip to asgard?*

Karath, after colecting the sword, hears Metthai, "I don't like the sword, I've see gaurds fight with them, even a master adventure. They're too....brutal. I prefer not being seen. But I have a knack for throwing things." To get his point across he pokes his dagger, which he secratly drew while speaking, gently into Matthai's armor front.

OOC: LOL Kharim hehehe

Khamir still trying to figure out why a Nord would act like he is drunk when he truely isn't takes his food and sits near a wall on the floor eating it as quickly as he can. He always eats this way for when he was young if he didn't eat his food quick his brothers would always take his food and leave him with nothing. Still pondering the reason for the Nords reason for acting drunk Khamir soon foolishly falls asleep....

Torvild after eating his meal with apparent relish drinks from a hip flask. He appears to fall into a slightly tipsy slumber. In fact he stays awake listening to any conversations around. If you appear to be drunk, stupid and belligerant, others cease to be discreet. It has given him much information in his days as a spy for the Skyrim government. Whether or not it will be useful here is a moot point. But the image must be created from the start and so it has to be.

Morgoth walks over to the armourer and asksf he can repair his saber

OOC: the sabre is alot better not just a 20 damage more like 50

As you men enjoy the supper your attention is drawn to the nearby door where the same woman you saw on the walls before enters the room, followed by the officer she was arguing with. The woman wares the same forgein armor again and your attention is drawn to her blade. It's not just any ordinary blade. It has the beauty of a blade that is only ment for a knight or a king. In an attempt to be polite the officer rushes in front of her and opens the door to the officersmess politly. The woman ignores the officers attempt and walks into the other room.

Before the officer closes the door behind him you hear him mumpling something but you can only recognise one word. "Coldhearted"

To Morgoth: The blacksmith knods politly and repairs your blade. After he's finished he let's you check the blade.

ahh,thank you!!

here is 50 septims for your trouble, then morgoth peers over at the strangely armoured women but quickly looks away so it doesnt look like he was looking at her

Karath glances at the women, the moves to fix his armor, which is unfomfotable again.

***Morgoth whispers to Karath*** Where do ye think she got that armour?

"I don't care much for armor. It's too heavy." Karath whipsers back.

not used to it are ye?...I sure am,lookit me,I wear this heavy imperial steel

"Like I said, I don't like it. So I don't wear it." Karath saws with a tone of finality, not wanting to continue the conversation.

some people do and some dont *walks off to find a good place to write a letter*

Torvild has noticed the exchange. He does not recognise the woman or the armour. He glances through apparently drowsing eyes to take stock of his companions. He is not reassured.

*starts writing letter to friend*

After giving Karath a sadisfied smile, Metthaï recieves his meal and retreats to a corner of the room. Neither the woman nor the conversation seem to intrest him nevertheles one eye was following the womans sword till it dissapiered..'hmm could sell that for lots of meals..' He stands up and walks towards the guard at the door..
"Say friend, do you have any idee who that swor..woman might be...?"

The guard looks around to make sure no one is listening. He then gestures you to come closer.

"That's Lena Wolf-Fang... As much as I've learned she must be some high ranked person in the Asgardian Force. Yea, you heared me right. She is Asgardian. Don't be mistaken by her name tho. The Asgardians are somekind of a mixture of Nords and Imperials. They have the Imperial appearance but the strength and courage of a Nord. And nothing person but a whole lot brighter too than some Nord."

The guards seems to be laughing with his own comment. Whe you see you are quiete irritated he coughs and then continues.

"I noticed you're interested in the blade... Don't even think about it. That's a royal blade and anyone caught stealing it would be punished by death. Not everybody gets such a sword you know... Besides, anyone with such a blade is a well trained swordsman or in this case swordswoman. I sure won't be drawing swords against this woman..."

"Wait! Am I too late?"

A man pushes his way through the crowd and the door, a pair of guards not far behind. Though mostly Nordish in appearance, his dark hair and tall, less muscled body seem oddly out of place with the rest of his features. He wears dark blue and gray clothes of an unfamiliar design, and a well worn dark gray cloak. From the movement of the cloth, it looks like he wears chest armor underneath, in addition to the more obvious greaves and bracers. His armor looks like adamantium, well made, but lacking the typical shine. A closer look reveals that the appearance is not from dirt, but from intentional dulling to cut unwanted reflections... the armor of someone who doesn't want to be seen. A pike, heavy wood longbow, and quiver of arrows are slung across his back, and the handles of throwing daggers can be seen coming from his vest pockets. He looks around, then turns to directly address the highest ranking guard in the room.

"Please, have mercy for a poor adventurer trying to make a name for himself. Let me join your quest!"

To Aseir: The guard looks up rather surprised. At the beginning he seems to have problems remembering your words but they come back to him rather soon.

"Why mercy? We can use every single man we can get. As what I've heard from the reports out of Asgard, things arent exactly pretty... Anyway, you might want to fill in one of these forms, identification and such things... Also who to contact in case something might happen. After you're done you may give me the form and I'll make sure everything will be in order. Oh, you might be willing to pass by the armory to get your uniform and a blade in case you don't have one..."

After finishing his words he gives you one of the forms.

Morgoth heard the conversation but didnt say anything...




OOC:I forgot to say that I have a crossbow too