Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24141785-20140201133112/@comment-5735114-20140203135359

Talsakr walked up to the group, their quiet talking, with the occational loud laugh, getting slightly louder. At first glance, they seemed well prepared, but a quick visual examination proved that first impression wrong. Their armor was standard issue guard armor, apparently scavanged due to the different colors and designs on the armor and shields. The gear in general appeared to be of poor quality, with multiple rips in the cloth of most of the armors, and some of the chain mail underneath appeared to be rusted or bent. Some of the shields were nearly broken, with splintered wood and even broken metal, while others only had some paint peeling off. The guns of the ramshackle soldiers appeared to be the newest gear they had, but even they suffered minor corrosion in some spots, and the occational spare metal plate made it clear that these guns were still far from new.

"So, you're the group that's off for Winterhold?", Talsakr asked calmly. Apparently the guards took it the wrong way.

"What, you think we can't do it, is that what you're saying?"

"No, no. If anything, I'd like to join you."

Any other day, the guards would have declined, but they were short on men and good gear, so the begrudgingly accepted. Talsakr was told that they were to leave in half an hour, and that he could buy a gun from the marketplace right by the forge where he'd seen the result of what he had heard was a large bar brawl. However, Talsakr didn't think to take any gold when he left Markath, so he had to consent himself with his hommade Silver Sword.