Ani turned on her heels.  This was becoming a nuisance.  More so than the damn Stormcloaks gradually making their way toward the city.  She locked her fiery gaze on the third person to interject himself into a conversation that did not pertain to him.  When she spoke, she barely contained an animal-like growl.<br/><br/>"If one more gods-be-damned soul interrupts our private conversation," she said, "I'll personally cut out his tongue.  This is ridiculous.  Firstly, stranger, I don't know you."<br/><br/>She looked him over briefly.  His bag was heavy, but not with coin.  She could tell by the sounds it made as he moved.  He carried smithing tools, ore and ingots.  His dagger and his sword looked sharp, but not well-used.  If this Nord were a warrior, he wasn't a very good one.<br/><br/>"And I don't like you," she said at length.  She had never been a big fan of nosy crowds, and her temper was on edge every second that they wasted here.  "Beyond that, my weapons have been smithed to my preference.  They are sharp enough to slit open your belly, if you care to test them."<br/><br/>She turned away from him and focused on the small group she'd become a part of.  Marven had yet to throw in his lot, and time was something of the essence.  The elf took a deep breath and resume control of her emotions.<br/><br/>To Ilya, she said, "I and Tanesha have agreed to take your offer.  But, to escape through the Dwemer ruins, we'll need access to the site.  That will require the Jarl's permission.  We still need to talk to him, and perhaps be offered a possible reward for weakening the force that threatens his boarders.  Will you accompany us to his throne room?  And of you, Marven, where do you stand?"