Silver-scale cracked neck and looseded himself up. The tall argonian garbed in form fitting dadric armor looked down on the Elf before him, ice blue eyes meeting the gold ones. He knew how this conversation was going to end, and besides, this "Blind-Eye" marshbrother was waiting for him. He was likely late already. "Move aside" he said calmly "I have places to be, and people to speak with" the robed elf of course did not budge. bringing a hand to his blade, a drop of sweat rolling down his neck. "you are wanted by the dominion for Talos worship and interfeering in Dominion busness, now come quietly."<br/>Silver Scale places his hands on his hips, tapping his armor with a finger. "let me enlighten you, you belong to a tiny tyrannical kingdom, and think that some pissant treaty grants you the ability to haul people off at will. Didn't you learn anything from the Civil War?" the Talmor Elf sneered "humans slaughtering humans, why should the mighty Mer care?" Silver scale simply shook his head. "didn't tell you how many Talmor died, and how the empire really doesn't care did they." the elf hesitated, then charged kicking up snow behind him.<br/>"By the nine" Silver Scale said as the blade slammed into his helm, shunted off by the superior armor "magic and stupid, still makes you stupid" The Talmor kept swinging taking some form of insult from his words. But Silver-scale responded in kind, no slow charging or chanting, no dramaic calls of magical prose, he simply raised his hand and arcs of lightning shot forth from his fingertips wracking the elf with pain bringing the golden haired being to his knees.<br/>"I... ah... if I can just..." the elf panted in pain "tell the "grand inquisitor" or whatever his title is. You can't ban a god any more than you would ban a mountian." silverscale mused bringing his mace to bear on the side of the elf's head knocking him into the snow. He kneeled over the dying unconsious elf and pressed a hand to his chest, stablizing him. not enough to wake him, but enough to keep him from dying of his fractured skull. He'd wake up in a few days, hungry, thristy, within walking distance of Helgen. with the nice weather he might not even loose a toe to frostbite.<br/>"Nice robe" he muttered kneeling down, as he began disrobing the elf, the Talmor certanly did give their men the finest silks and embroitary. Leaving him almost nude lying in a snowbank he continued to Helgen.<br/><br/>He wistled, almost happily as he walked through the small fort and into Trygg's inn. He opened the door just in time to hear a number of people blathering on about dragons, colonies, heroes of old, treasure, magic.  Morover it was easy to see where the recruitment office was, it had two stout looking guards flanking the door that simply screamed "important people go here." He simply flashed the note knowlingly and they opened the door. Thank the nine for hunches.<br/>The gathering around the table of some motly crew. Deffnately the assorted people you expected to find in a group of aventurers/colonists/crazypeopleouttodosomthingworthyofsong. For a moment the idle thoughts of "she has a nice behind" or "that sword is some of Broz's orcish work" followed but he quickly snapped back to it before he stood before the group, and dropped his Note on the table...<br/>"Silverscale Arvess, here in my mother's place. May akatosh care for her."<br/>He looked to the one eyed marsh brother "I take it you are one eye?"