Ancarion didn't care for the haughty tone to her voice. Nor did he like the way she addressed him. But, as that shiny, icy-blue arrow skidded to a gentle halt in front of him, he was willing to let all that go. However, it would not do for her to know how willing he was. No, that would not do at all. The Altmer finally lifted his eyes and took a long, calculating look at his new "friend".

The girl was Breton, that much was obvious. Her small stature and petite bone structure were a dead give away. However, she had a decidedly wild look about her as well. Her hair wasn't combed and flew freely in the breeze and there was a small smudge of soot smeared across her button nose. There was a full mouth set in a half-amused smirk above an impish, pointed chin. The girl's eyes were her most striking feature, however. One was bright green, the other an amber-brown; similar to his color. All in all, she was surprisingly attractive... Even for a human.

Aware he was staring, Ancarion quickly cleared his throat and put on a half-disgusted sneer, "What good will a single arrow do me?"

Sparrow stood patiently while he sized her up. A faint expression of appreciation flitted across his face before vanishing. This encouraged her. If he was willing to check her out, then he was like Ondolemar; at least open to the idea of working with a human. Maybe. She would still have to be cautious. Sparrow had never been on the receiving end of one of their lighting spells and nor did she ever wish to be.

"There's more where this came from, darlin'. I get around. I see lots of sights. I find lots of interesting things along the way. Maybe we can work out a deal, hm? Besides, I know full well that the Skaal blacksmith didn't tell you squat. They're not the sharpest tools in the shed, but they sure are stubborn when it comes to their secrets. Aren't they, Ancarion?" Again, she offered a pretty, smug, little smile.

Her teeth were tiny, white and straight. The Altmer stared again, this time almost unaware he was doing so. His stomach began to churn with both annoyance and... and... No, he would not go there, "So you know my purpose here, then? I suppose you must have indeed found that dullard of a blacksmith. Unfortunately for you, my mission here is also a secret. To protect it, I have no choice but to silence you. Now, give me one good reason that I should not kill you where you stand."

Sparrow rolled her mismatched eyes, mirroring his own irritation, "Because, genius, I don't see anyone else around here offering to give you what you want. And honestly, why is it my fault that you're terrible at keeping secrets?"

Annoyance was quickly turning into anger, but she did have a point, "Watch your tongue girl, lest I cut it right out of your skull. However, you're correct... As much as I hate admitting it. And I also admit that we are not making the progress we had hoped. Here to make me an offer, then? Very well, what do you have in mind?"

Encouraged further, the girl swept a hand back through her windblown hair, "It's simple enough, the smith said he'd teach me how to make Stahlrim weapons. You know, because I 'rescued' him and all. Truthfully, I only accidentally stumbled across that damned cabin. I was running from some monster spiders, you see."

Ancarion twirled his finger impatiently, "And you will sell them to me. I suppose I have to give you the map first?"

"Naturally."

"You expect me to just hand you the map, so you can deliver it to the blacksmith and laugh at the foolish Thalmor you so easily outwitted? You have made a grave miscalculation, and now you will pay-"

Sparrow held up a hand, effectively shocking him into a stunned silence, "Hold on there, darlin'. You're getting all worked up for no reason. Here, a token of good faith if you will."

At this, she produced a small good-looking Stahlrim dagger and a small war axe made of the same. These she kicked over towards him, much like she had the arrow. At his questioning glance, the girl nodded with a kind smile, "Take them. Consider those a bonus for hearing me out."

The Altmer narrowed golden eyes at the little tart, making no move to take the offered goods. Though he sorely wanted to, "And why, might I ask, are you so willing to betray your own kind in order to help our cause? That alone is cause for suspicion."

Sparrow held her hands out to the side and offered a lopsided shrug, "Seems like the Thalmor could afford to pay me more than a poor village on some ash-filled island."

Ah. So gold was her driving force, "I see. And what assurances do I have that you won't take the map and never return? Just for, say, your amusement? You look like the type to do exactly that."

"Hey! No need to be nasty," she glowered at him briefly before another charming smile quickly overtook her features. "I figured the down payment would be enough. What else do you need to prove my honesty?"

Ancarion finally deigned to pick up the dagger and examine it, "Amazing. Truly. Look at this blade, sharp as Mehrune's Razor I'd wager-"

"Actually, Mehrune's Razor is much sharper."

He shot her a pointed glance and she shut her mouth with a soft chuckle. "As I was saying," he went on, "I still find it odd that a human would betray her own people so easily. Something about this just doesn't sit right with me."

Sparrow heaved a put-upon sigh, "This isn't a question of what side I may or may not be on," she started, voice sharp. "The only thing that matters to me, is me. The end. Those people up there," she pointed vaguely towards Skaal Village, "and over there," here, she pointed towards Skyrim, "are some of the most helpless sods I've ever come across."

Amused, Ancarion watched her work herself up into a bit of a tirade.

"All it ever is, is 'Sparrow, I've lost my bloody helmet in a cave, please find it for me. Oh, by the way, said cave just might be infested with Falmer and Chaurus, but you can handle that right?' Or it's, 'Sparrow, some person somewhere was careless enough to get kidnapped by bandits! Go and risk your life to save that stranger, OK? Frankly, a few months of that rubbish is enough to put anyone one off, kinsmen or not."

"Sparrow. That's your name, I'm assuming?"

She nodded, "You got me."

"It's very odd. Fitting though, given what I've seen of your personality thus far."

"By Sheogorath's madness! Do we have a deal or are you just going to stand there and insult me for the rest of the day?! I don't have to be here, you know. That's the nice thing about having only myself to worry about. I can go anywhere and do anything anytime I feel like it. It's great. Look, I'm not going to steal the map just to laugh at you. I couldn't care less about who I sell those to," she pointed towards the dagger in his hand. "The only thing that I do care about is who is going to give me the most gold for it."

She might've gone on in this fashion for quite some time had Ancarion not tossed a heavy coin purse her way. It landed in front of her feet with a metallic clinking sound. Ahhhh, the loveliest music there was. Sparrow quickly bent and snatched it up. When she straightened up, he was holding out a rolled piece of parchment towards her as well. The map.

The high elf was staring at her again, marked interest gleaming in his cold, slanted eyes. This time however, a distinctly uneasy feeling rose in her stomach at the sight of him. Sparrow wasn't sure she quite liked the way he was looking at her, and she suddenly wanted to be as far away from here as quickly as she possibly could.

Several long, uncomfortable moments passed before he spoke again, "I might not trust you, but I trust your greed. Very well, take the map. Return here with Stalhrim weapons and armor, and I will pay you a fair price for them. Tell the blacksmith whatever lie you will. We have no further need of him. But hear this; if I find that you've betrayed me in any way, rest assured I will not be as kind to you as I have thus far. Now get off of my ship, you wretched little ragamuffin." He flapped a gloved hand at her, fastened his new dagger and war axe onto his belt, and resumed reading his book.

So far so good. Sparrow had found several more daggers, a shield, three swords, two helms and a battle axe. All made of the enchanted ice that the Thalmor were so enamored with. And each time she'd shown up, Ancarion had paid her for her finds. Generously.

Granted, it wasn't without a plethora of snide remarks. By both parties. Ancarion seemed to grow more and more irritated with her each time a transaction took place. As a result, each time she offered a piece of equipment, she had to almost wring his neck to convince him to purchase it. Sparrow didn't usually mind it when someone decided that they didn't care for her, but the Altmer's barbed comments were beginning to sting a bit.

And the funny thing was, she hadn't the slightest idea why. She hadn't made it a point to be extra snotty at all. Certainly not more than usual, anyhow. If anything, she conducted herself professionally. As much as she could, that is. Being raised on the mean streets of Riften didn't tend to produce the most eloquent of people. But what she lacked in etiquette, she more than made up for in street smarts.

Brynjolf had made sure of that. He'd plucked her from the orphanage almost the day she'd landed there. Ever since, he'd shown her the ropes and molded her into a fine thief. Ever since Karliah had shown up again, though, it hadn't been the same. Something huge had apparently gone down between Mercer and Karliah; causing Brynjolf to become distant towards her. He didn't even call her "lass" anymore. Just Karliah. She didn't like to admit that it bothered her. A lot. So much so that she hadn't been back to the guild in weeks. The girl wondered if Brynjolf even noticed she was gone.

Sparrow shook her head, trying to clear away the unpleasant memories. Those had nothing to do with the task at hand and, frankly, they were really starting to bum her out. There, the ship was in sight now.

He better appreciate all this, she thought peevishly.

Through much effort, she'd had come into possession of the entire set of legendary Deathbrand Armour. It was a beautiful suit of armour and each piece was powered with a very strong enchantment. Better yet, if the whole set was worn together, it was stronger than even Daedric armour.

"Is that right," Ancarion asked, after she'd explained what it was.

By the way his eyes were gleaming, she knew she'd brought a winner this time, "That's right darlin'. This suit here will land you all the women you could ever want and more respect than you deserve."

The high elf lifted the corner of his upper lip in a slight snarl. Little witch was full of venomous insults. He half-wondered why he hadn't bothered to do anything about it yet.

Because, he thought, she was true to her word and has proven herself a very valuable asset to this mission. At least, until I have enough weaponry to bring back, that is. Yes, after the fact I might have to- What's that whistling?

Blinking, he turned his attention back towards the little Breton standing in front of him. She was waving her hands in his face and whistling at him in an attempt to gain his attention, "Oi! Elf man! Come back to Nirn, we miss you so and I haven't got all day!"

"Shut your damned mouth, little bird. It's an honor for you to even be allowed to speak to me, let alone granted the privilege of doing business together. You will wait until I am ready to do the dealings. Now then, what makes you think I even want this ancient junk? We need new weapons and armour, not artifacts."

Sparrow narrowed her mismatched eyes at him, recognizing this game. Nothing was ever good enough for him, she always had to convince him to buy her wares. And the whole "little bird" nickname was starting to wear thin, "My name is Sparrow."

"Your true name is "Sparrow" as much as it is "little bird". I don't believe for one moment that that is your given name," he replied, unconcerned.

"You know, I can see why your kinsmen sent you way out here on ship. Alone," she snapped, dropping the helm at his feet with a loud -clang!-

"Snide comments and tantrums merely make you even more unpleasant," the high elf glowered down at her, crossing his arms over his chest. "This is Thalmor gold I am spending, and I will most certainly make sure that any product I purchase is up to our standards. If you don't like our arrangement, little bird, then I suggest you flutter off my ship immediately."

"Oh, no. Not after how long it took me to find all this. Do you know how many bandits I had to kill to get the complete set? Not to mention that it's one-of-a-kind, and in glorious condition. It looks like it was just forged yesterday, for Dibella's sake! You do realize that until now, literally the second I found it, that this suit of armour was only a legend? You should be honored to buy it and you will buy it," she said, planting both hands on her hips.

Ancarion recognized the stance by now, she was getting agitated. Soon she would threaten to walk, purchase or no. Time to make an offer before she did, and took that fabulous armour with her. He'd no doubt that she'd easily find another buyer for it, "Five thousand gold."

"I want twice that," Sparrow set her jaw stubbornly.

"Ridiculous. Five thousand and not a septim more," the high elf was unyielding.

Sparrow tugged on a braid in thought before an impish smile crept across her features, "Seven five, or this deal we got goin' on is over with. I'm not dragging anymore of this crap back here for you unless offer me a fair price for my time and efforts. You don't fool me, you want this stuff. You want it so bad you can taste it. I can see it in your eyes."

Ancarion bristled visibly. Bartering was not something he was accustomed to partaking in with a lesser race. He was accustomed to being agreed with quickly and completely, "Six thousand and you mind your manners whenever you board my vessel."

"Six five and you'll take me as is and like it, elf," she replied cooly, twisting the braided lock of hair between slender fingers.

Little wench. "Deal."

Money and equipment changed hands and the two regarded one another for a time. Growing uncomfortable with the silence, Sparrow shifted her weight from foot to foot, "Well? What are you staring at?"

"You, human. Why isn't your hair ever combed? You'd likely be much easier to look at if you'd put forth an effort to groom yourself even slightly," another sneer. "I'm surprised, yet relieved, that you don't smell badly."

An eye roll was his only answer.

"If you keep rolling your eyes at me, I just might decide to confiscate them one day," he went on. "It'd be a shame, really. They are your most flattering feature."

This time, a cagey grin appeared on her mouth, "Was that a compliment hidden somewhere in there?"

"Hardly. Trust me when I say that the rest of your appearance counteracts whatever appeal they may have. Get off my ship and comb your hair the next time you show up."