Looking upward to verify the sun had reached its highpoint on the daytime sky, Engar returned his gaze to the gathering of ruffians before him.  Drawing in a deep breath, he spoke in a booming voice that seemed entirely out of place coming from such a lean looking man.<br/><br/>"I am sure you all are already aware of why you are gathered here today, so I'll skip the details and get straight to the point.  As you may know, rumors have been running rampant regarding the mysterious happenings to the west and your High King is just as curious as you are to figure out the cause of Markarth's silence.  In an effort to shed some light onto this mystery, your king has set aside a purse of 75,000 septims to the first person or persons who return with a full report regarding his matter and irrefutable evidence to support it.  As you can expect, such a bounty will not be offered out readily and will not be content with circumstantial evidence backed by the word of a stranger.  Even after the grand reward has been given, an additional purse has been set aside to reward those who provide additional information that may help us in dealing with any threat that may be lurking to the west.  The race for the prize has officially begun!  Once you find your proof, return with it to Dragonsreach where your case will be judged."<br/><br/>With that, the gathering of mercenaries with dollar signs now in their eyes, begun to disband.  Looking around, M'Ravirr noticed that several had either arrived in a group or were making temporary alliances in order to strengthen the odds of their success at the cost of a portion of such a generous reward.  From the sound of the current situation the Khajiit could tell he was out of his league on his own and if he wanted any chance at that grand prize, or even surviving the journey, he would need help.  Scanning over the group of moving bodies, his gaze fell upon an elven woman whose figure and attire suggested competency through lithe grace.  Of course, there are always situations where one's agility is hampered leaving only brute strength and wit.  Though he could not yet measure how keen her mind was, his physical strength would likely do well in supporting her swift skill and it seemed like the most logical person to approach in hopes of forming an alliance.<br/><br/>Doing his best to keep a cool swagger to his step, despite the uncertainty that was still warring in his mind, M'Ravirr approached Trianna.  "I couldn't help but notice that you do not yet have others who are going to aid you in this race we now find ourselves in.  I get the impression that you are skilled with a bow, but my forte lies in dealing with multiple adversaries who get in close.  It stands to reason that our individual styles compliment the other's quite well.  By chance would you be interested in working together to increase our odds of claiming the grand prize?"  Regardless of the woman's answer, he would not be content in leaving Whiterun without a few traveling companions even if it meant spending all afternoon in search for them.