Mitchell
Varis Xai'Shen held his hands behind his back as he walked through the streets of Solitude, out in the open, with eyes looking toward him, and others having challenge in their eyes, while some quickly rushed away. It was satisfying, as he walked away from the Castle Dour, having spent a good few hours testing out new spells on the *Subjects* Below. 

Varis eventually made his way to a market plaza, where all manner of baubles, foodstuffs, and goods were sold out in the open. The hustle and bustle of the environment immensely comforted the Elf, as he basked in the rush of sales and the screaming of prices, bids, and advertisements. Such was a place where he could always employ some spells, but, for now, he chose to observe, as he made his way to a bench along the walls of a stone townhouse, and rested there, crossing his legs over one another as he took a moment to simply observe the populace. 

It was a favorite pass-time for him, people-watching. Especially when he had some time before his next task.
Taylor
It had been a while since his interaction with the Telvanni in the Blue Palace. Salen was tormented by thoughts, temptations that the dunmer offered. Eventually it drove him to action. Salen knew when the Thalmor was at it's most inattentive in Solitude. Holy days where his comrades would rather spend time in the Embassy. It was a respite from dealing with the denizens of Skyrim. And Salen knew it would be his opportunity to be away from prying eyes and ears. His superiors never missed him when he left the embassy, and his work for the day had been done. So long as he didn't make a scene.

Salen crept towards the Dunmer. He had traded his uniform for a simple tunic and trousers, a hooded cloak atop it. It was easier to walk amongst the populous of Skyrim when not donning the black and gold of the Thalmor. Though he missed the fearful glances and the crowds parting like schools of fish. Salen walked softly, keeping along the edge of the townhouse's wall. He stood next to the bench Varis sat on.

Salen sighed and then spoke after a moment. "I... Have thought about your words, Dunmer. I would hear what you have to say." There was hesitation in his voice, Salen knew what he was about to hear could be the end of his career. Or, it could finally be the big break he desperately needed. "You are too easy of a man to find, that concerns me when it comes to one such as yourself."
Mitchell
A cruel grin formed as he heard the voice chime beside him. Varis had kept his eyes forward, but his mind was all around them. Through the eyes of conjured Daedra lurking in shadows, and even peering through the eyes of the crowds about him. As simply as he sat on the bench, he seemed utterly casual and at ease. 

He did not turn his head as he said, "Why hide when you have nothing to hide?" Simple words, not at all relevant to him. "I stay within the confines of the law. There is so much absolutely heinous things that can be done, and held up, by courts and Jarls." Varis placed his hands together, lacing the fingers together as he lounged into the bench. "As for what I have in mind for you, I'll start slow. I require test subjects. The spells I research are often extremely dangerous, and or, require, *Limit testing*. I was considering a few possible bodies from Northwatch. After all, enslaving a Daedra is one thing, but knowing how it will help me in a pinch?" 

Varis shook his head. "That is the first goal. Second, I would invite you to a business opportunity. I desire imports from Summerset. Spices, fabrics, all manner of things. Perhaps even Goblin slaves. They make good test subjects as well."

The Sorcerer held up his head as he watched another man slither through the crowd of people. A seedy fellow. Possibly a pickpocket. The Wizard grinned a little, as with a *Look*, the man became filled with raw fear. A primal fear that sent him into a state of shock, coursing through his body, and made him stand still as stone. Varis maintained focus on the man for some time, tormenting him with visions, as he said, "Assist me with both of these, and I will reward you well. A percentage of my dealings from Summerset, and, from there, whatever you may ask of me, we can come to a compromise for."
Taylor
Salen gritted his teeth, and hissed through them. "You are bold, very, very bold." He lapsed into silence. "Dead meat I can provide, They don't keep an eye on the corpses once they toss them into the cave." Salen admitted, his words came out low, barely inadudiable. As if he was hesitant to even share that information. The Thalmor kept their mass grave hidden in the caverns beneath the embassy. Where the bodies of political and religious dissidents would never be found. He grumbled as Varies tried to convince him of trade connection. 

 "Imports from the Dominion to straight to those who order them, businesses, The East Empire company, the government of Skyim." Salen sighed. "I am not of rank to even think of diverting imports. You would have to go through offical channel in order to get what you need... I may know of a merch-...Nevermind." There was hesitation as he spoke, Salen thought of his mother, a yearning to return to the isles bubbling up. He missed home more than anything. He continued "Stealing from the shipments are unadvised. Even to a Telvanni wizard, the crates are enchanted, and guarded by Thalmor operatives." Salen crossed his arms and pulled his hood lower as a breeze passed through the city.
Mitchell
Varis listened, and realized he might have used the wrong word the moment Salen mentioned corpses. Varis leaned back a little. This man was willing to get Varis corpses? 

That sort of vulnerability for the sake of profit... That was something very, *Very* Useful.

"Hm, no, I don't mean corpses. I mean subjects. Living. I have no interest in the research of Necromancy. Such vile practices are for maggots and bugs. As for imports from the Dominion," A chuckle formed. "I have no interest in theft." Varis' eyes shifted directly toward the hooded figure. "I do not need to perform heists."

In that moment, as Varis looked away from the pickpocket, a blood-curdling scream rang out through the crowd, as the man in the middle of a crowd suddenly crumbled to the ground, clasping to his head, and then, *Silence*. The man laid there, eyes wide, mouth agape, with a stolen purse in his hand from a nearby noblewoman. When she recognized it, she called over the guards, as onlookers watched on in confusion.

The source of his mind-rattling fear was unknown, as Varis looked up at Salen, undisturbed by the events, and said, "And, I know of the East Empire company, and the governments of Skyrim, and how the Dominion will trade with them, but, I'm more interested in independent merchants. Such as who you were about to mention. I'm not offering servitude, or apprenticeship. I offer partnership. The growth of wealth is a special field of interest for me, and I would be willing to help you grow yours. Perhaps, then, you can go anywhere you want, with no one to tell you *No*." 

It was clear, Salen disliked Skyrim. He did not want to be in this place of barbarians, savages, and filth. Meanwhile, he did not see the exploitative potential of its population, as Varis did. He wanted to be elsewhere. And, for Salen, as far as Varis could tell, he had been in Skyrim for decades, and even the long lives of the Altmer had a limit before homesickness kicked in. 

"These are my two requests. Two for two. I offered you a percentage of the business, now, what do you request in return for those specimens from that little north-bound Keep?"