Morndas, 18th of Last Seed, 4E 201

Castras stormed into the Bannered Mare, steaming over his meeting with the Jarl. He was so angry, that he didn't notice as he slammed the doors to the inn, attracting glares from the drunks nursing hangovers from the previous night.

"Hey! Keep it down!" The barkeep said, managing to keep her voice to a level to where the drunks didn't glare at her. "Keep up that racket and I'll lose customers. These drunks need a place to sober up after a night of partying."

"Sorry," He said curtly. He sat down at the bar and ordered some Cyrodilic wine. While Castras had no love for the Empire, the natives of the Empire's main province made some damn fine wine. When the barkeep came back with the bottle, she raised her eyebrows as Castras took the bottle and nearly ripped the cork off with his teeth before spitting it out into a bucket. He was about to raise it to his lips to down before he realized something. Why was he going to get drunk? Because an insignificant Nord thought he was a liar? Fuck that. It wasn't his fault the man was an idiot. He put the bottle down and looked at the barkeep, whose eyebrows were still raised. He just grunted and retrieved the cork from the bucket and replaced it before holding it out to the barkeep.

"Well that's strange, never seen anyone except overly-religious knights and priests and priestesses stop themselves from drinking. You sure don't seem any of the above so why'd you stop? Have an epiphany?" The barkeep asked, pulling a rag out of her pocket and wiping down the bar.

"No," Castras answered, "Just realizing that your Jarl is a pig-headed son of a-"

He was interrupted by a cup of mead slamming down on his head. He crumpled to the floor and was seized by his armpits by two people and held up while a face filled his view. It was one of three of a group of big, burly Nords in steel armor that'd been in the inn for a few days. Castras had just thought that they were local mercenaries, probably with the Companions or something, although he hadn't seen them with Aela, Farkas, and the others last night.

"What was that you were saying about our Jarl?" He grunted, his rank breath burning Castras' nostrils.

"That he's a pig-headed son of a whore. Are you two related because I'm pretty sure you have the same mother," Castras drawled, keeping his head up even though he was still regaining feeling from the hit on the head. He already had a plan forming in his head on how to get out of the two men's grip on his arms.

It took a few minutes for the idiot to figure out what Castras said, a bewildered look settling on his face before it was replaced with anger. He aimed a punch at Castras' face but he was stronger than the two idiots who had a grip on him thought and he was able to pull the idiot on his left in front of him so the man's fist slammed into other's steel chest plate. While Idiot Number One was holding his hand in pain, crying for his mommy, Idiot Number Two was still trying to figure out how he was moved. Idiot Number Three had more brain cells than the others and tightened his grip on Castras but flew back when Castras did what he did to Farkas and used his armor as a conductor to singe the arm hair off of the man and fry those last few brain cells of his with a quick Spark spell. He dropped like a bag of rotten potatoes. Idiot Number Two barely had time to think before a Bound Dagger pierced the back of his skull. Castras dismissed the Dagger and cracked his neck. There'd be a bump on the back of his head, it was throbbing, but it'd be easy to fix later with a healing spell.

"Sadia, go! Get the guards!" The barkeep whispered urgently to the Redguard waitress who ran out of the Inn before Castras could stop her.

Idiot Number One was just staring up at Castras in horror. "You're… You're a mage? Aw fuck, I wouldn't have taken the job if I knew you were one of them fancy mages," He groaned. "You killed Jorgen and Laron! They were my best friends!" He curled up into a ball and started sobbing, leaving Castras to stand there awkwardly, not sure whether to kill him or wait for the guards

He didn't have to do either because a few seconds after that, the guards burst in, followed by the waitress, Sadia. "Halt! What's going on in here?" The guard said, looking at the dead body, the crying man, the man who smelled like fried bacon, and then to Castras, muttered, "Damn mages…", Under his breath. He was going to step forward but then he stopped and cocked his head. "Wait a minute… I know you…" He said slowly. Castras thought he was going to be arrested for something he didn't do (and the three men on the floor but that had a clear excuse: self-defense.) When the guard said, "You're that traveler that was being rude atop the stairs to Dragonsreach! I'm going to enjoy arresting you."

"Wait!" The barkeep yelled. "He's innocent, these men attacked him first; I saw the whole thing from behind the bar. This man… Or elf, whatever the fuck he is, was just sitting there when these three dumbasses attacked him. Arrest that man, the one sobbing on the floor, not the one in the weird robes."

The guard looked at Castras, who shrugged, and back at the barkeep. He turned toward Sadia and spoke, "Is what Hulda says true?"

"Yes sir. Every word, I was in the back, which has a perfect view onto the spot of which the fight happened, and witnessed every bit of it. That hybrid there was just minding his own business when those men attacked him."

The guard sighed and tried to rub the bridge of his nose before remembering he had a helmet on. "I guess… I have to let you go," He said through gritted teeth to Castras. "Come on you," He said to the man on the floor, drawing his sword. He pulled the man up and then put the sword to the back on his neck, lightly pressing it. "Come on, let's go. Stop bawling, would you?"

He was almost out the door when Castras called out. "Hey! Guard!" When he turned around, he continued. "May I question this man for a minute? He said something about a job and I figure it's some kind of hit so I must find out what this imbecile knows."

The guard hesitated before answering. "Take it up with the Captain," Was all he said before walking the still-bawling man out of the inn.

Castras walked over to the bar and sat down and didn't move for the rest night, thinking of the incident. Castras didn't know when but at some time, someone moved the bodies out. He ordered some stew and a glass of wine, but otherwise spent the rest of the night at the bar, racking his brain to try and think of anyone who would want him dead. They obviously weren't Morag Tong assassins, too stupid and too Nord to be with them. Not with the Companions, only person he'd pissed off lately with them was Aela-who he ignored when she came in with her pals and gave him a curious look which he say from out of the corner of his eye.

But who would want him dead?

To Be Continued…