Kindri suggested a devious plan that Sawaquiamora couldn't resist. She gathered together a small band of two or three of her most trusted crewmates; most were left behind to guard the others. Solitude was unguarded in the back routes that Sawaquiamora took her crew through, and the Khajiit strode fearlessly through them. She led her crew with the confidence they needed in this risky plan.
Their target was the prison, a place Sawaquiamora never hoped to go. Eats-Warm-Fish, an Argonian sharpshooter that Sawaquiamora had employed years ago, was muttering something along those same lines.
Sawaquiamora divided her crew up; she and Eats-Warm-Fish were to approach the prison through the roof-tops, and the others were to continue on the ground.
The Khajiit and the Argonian quickly scuttled up the side of one of the many brick houses. The Captain could see the other members of her band take a turn and slip into the shadows. She also guards patrolling the area.
The only way Sawaquiamora saw anyone getting into the prison was by playing off the guards' expectancy for a prisoner to be breaking out, not pirates breaking in. Getting out was another matter altogether, although she didn't bring her rapier and trusty bow for nothing.
The Captain of the Guard in Solitude was worrying about other things. Peryn Greendale was in charge of over a thousand men, and yet he couldn't keep his own brother out of prison. Over a week ago, his brother, Mordyval, had been charged with stealing from a noble near the Blue Palace. Peryn had pled Mordyval's case with the Queen, but the nobleman had a good reputation and the evidence was against his brother.
Peryn still didn't believe his brother was guilty, but the Queen's decree was final. Even now, the Captain was setting aside his personal desires in favor of his duty and his loyalty to his superiors. He was pacing down the corridors of the barracks, a packet of papers in his hand. He was to report all the inmates for the weekly census. It wasn't an exactly easy or quick task; he'd been working on getting the numbers all day. Normally, it would be assigned to one of his underlings, but the Queen wanted him to do it for some reason. Peryn had the distinct impression that that reason was related to his brother's imprisonment.
Peryn nodded at some soldiers that passed him; they nodded right back. The large majority of the soldiers were Nords and Imperials; as a result, they didn't always treat him, a Breton, like their Captain. He was fine with that.
He finally descended to the records room where the bookkeeper was busily shuffling away loose papers that he'd evidently been scanning. What for, Peryn could only guess. Bookkeepers were like a whole new race.
"I've got the census for the prisoners, Myr," Peryn said, idlt throwing the packet on the corner of the bookkeeper's desk.
Myr looked up, dark rings under his eyes. "Thanks," he said with a lopsided grin only undermined by his half-asleep look. One of the papers he was sorting through slipped out of his grasp, and Peryn swooped down to pick it up before it could touch the ground. As he handed it over to Myr, he saw the title: Imperial Casualties- Sea of Ghosts. The Captain smirked. "What's this? Sailors being swallowed by sea monsters?"
The bookkeeper gave a forced laugh. "Something like that," he replied vaguely. Peryn nodded. A bit too much moonsugar that one's had, I'd warrant.
The Captain made his way back up to the main floor of the barracks. It was pleasantly quiet. He enjoyed the unexpected silence until he saw bloodstains on the floor. Then, he paused.
Then, he drew his sword.