Fable - Ask Pour One Out

[Jazat Mar]

As a rule, Jazat didn't really care for the fate of his brethren.

He had been away from other Drow for so long that he was probably considered an anomaly to them at this point. Someone who hadn't spent long enough underground to have taken the cultural norms and had spent far too much time amongst humans and orcs to really go back to them now. He knew well enough that showing his usual level of sass to some of the higher ranking commanders would get him executed for being just some uppity little man who didn't know his place.

Still, he had come to where the drow were encamped on the surface after their exodus from the Underrealm. He had come to sell them things they needed, like tents and the like, at vastly over inflated prices but he had also come because there was still one person from the Underrealm he gave enough of a damn about to check up on.

Bypassing the majority of the tents, Jazat unwrapped his scarf from around his head to whistle a little bit as he made his way to the memorial wall that had been hastily erected for some of those who were dead but unrecoverable. He looked down the names as he took a bottle of mead from his pack and started to drink it.

"Come on you bitch where are you..."

Muttering away to himself as he searched for the name he was looking for, he cursed when it became quickly apparent that he wasn't going to find her. He grunted in annoyance.

"... you're still alive aren't you, you old hag?"

This news needed more mead.

Lythrani Undraeth

 

[Lythrani Undraeth]

Lythrani despised surface duty.

While not at all an uncommon view among the drow—no denizen of the Underrealms truly enjoyed the surface—Lythrani held a particular dislike for it. The sun continued to blast the dirt with hellish light, banishing any shadows with it, for hours on end. When one's work relied on said darkness, one begins to see the sun for what it truly is: a nuisance.

Still, it had a purpose. The surface was dangerous, and it required surveillance to ensure that none ventured too far beneath the surface without guidance. Her spies could still provide her with updates on Zar'Hal and its dealings without her.

She could satisfy herself in other ways, like observing the surface-dwellers. They tended to pass through on occasion, trading goods with the holding for coin. They were odd, some held secrets, and some held valuable secrets. After all, it paid well to know the going on's of surface kingdoms.

It was for this reason that Lythrani had left her tent for the night and wandered the camp at the news of another trader; a drow, in fact. Odd, she thought, to hear of a drow who preferred life above. It wasn't a common view, after all. The fact he was described as a skilled mercenary was even more intriguing for the spymaster.

Such skills were of use to her.

The elegant spymaster found the mercenary at the memorial, his eyes darting from name to name in an attempt to find the one he searched for. She quietly stepped some feet beside him, her footsteps leaving nary a sound.

After a moment of watching, she spoke at last. "Looking for someone?"

 

[Jazat Mar]

Jazat's hand immediately went for his sword, landing firmly on the hilt as he spun to face the person who had addressed him. The first inch or so of the blade was exposed as he almost drew the blade just from the surprise alone. She hadn't made a single sound in her approach and that, somehow, was even more terrifying than if she had been openly attacking him.

Weird.

"You trying to see what it feels like to have 27 inches of steel inside you?"

He was a little bit shaken by her entrance but he shook his head a little bit and forced himself to relax. Slamming his sword back where it was supposed to be, he straightened up a little bit before glancing back at the names before returning his attention to the woman again.

"My mother." he smirked ever so slightly, "Seems the old hag survived... or got so mangled no one could name her."

He doubted it was the second one despite his best wishes.

 

[Lythrani Undraeth]

Dark eyes quickly flitted over to the drow, lingering over the sword's hilt. Her visage maintained its porcelain restraint, betraying no signs of fear—or even surprise—at the threat. The eyes simply searched the man's figure, tracing him up and down before abruptly pulling away, as though they had found all the information that they needed.

"No one's succeeded thus far," she replied to the overt threat. She stated it as though it were a mere statement of fact rather than a retort. Ironically, spymasters tend to have quite a few assassins sent after them. None have managed to leave with their blades bloodied, from wounds and death alike.

As the answer finally left the man's lips, Lythrani nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid it's likely the former. Why such distaste? I can't imagine one who spends their time above dwells on their past often." Perhaps it was tied to why he left the Underrealms, or perhaps it had to do with some other reason she was not yet privy to. She had to say, though, her curiosity is piqued.

 

[Jazat Mar]

The fact that no one had succeeded yet probably shouldn't have sounded like she was challenging him, right? She probably wasn't but he couldn't help the little smirk that the idea brought to him before he decided not to entertain it yet.

She hadn't done anything except sneak up on him after all and he wasn't entirely sure it wasn't just a case of his ears not being focused on the task. He sniffed a little bit, rubbing at his beard before taking a drink.

He snorted at her logic.

"The knife a warrior doesn't bother to sharpen doesn't strike true when thrown - the neglectful warrior demands it returns. Does the knife return?" he shook his head, "Nope. It stays where it is."

A needlessly poetic way of giving a vague idea of his history but he had been around humans for some time at this stage. He took another drink, sitting down atop a hastily erected grave marker without a care in the world.

"What gave me away as a surface-guy eh?"

 

[Lythrani Undraeth]

An eyebrow raised at the sight of the smirk, though she didn't mention it. Perhaps it was confidence or arrogance in her own abilities. Whatever the reason, she ignored it and he didn't act on it.

"A poetic way of putting it. Unnecessary, but certainly poetic," Lythrani commented with an amused glimmer across her pale face. A brief smirk appeared, her attention now fully turned towards the drow mercenary. It could have simply been poetic for poetic's sake, or it was a purposefully vague elaboration on a matter preferred to be unspoken. At the moment, she was unsure which it was.

"Most men know to be succinct with their words here, lest they face a less-than-poetic end." It was a common attribute of drow society, and one familiar to all aware of them. Drow women held famously short tempers next to their inferiors, as they would explain it.

"That is what gave it away." A brief moment passed before she added on, "That, or the fact I was aware of your arrival as soon as you stepped foot within this holding and have never seen your face prior. Either would work."

 

[Jazat Mar]

Unnecessary but poetic.

Wasn't that just the way of the humans and the other surface dwellers though? They made such a song and dance out of so many small, tiny, things that it was hard to truly take them seriously half the time. Still he grinned a little bit when she commented on it but he decided to say nothing.

His grin turned into a damn near shit-eating grin levels of smug as he just tilted his head slightly to the side.

"Yes Miss."

He wasn't trying to hide his sass and they both knew it. They both seemed to know that he had been away long enough to go native at this point after all. Chuckling a little bit, he took another drink.

"So you're some kind of spy or assassin." he reasoned with a tilt of his head, "Or both since they tend to go hand in hand so what I've got to ask now is simple..."

He spread his arms.

"Are you here spying on me or here to assassinate me?"

 

[Lythrani Undraeth]

The outsider's flagrant denial of drow conventions was, in a way, refreshing to one whose life was defined by court intrigue and restrained dignity. If it weren't for his ash-colored skin, she'd have taken him for some poor human that had gotten terribly lost at some point.

To try and enforce some level of elegance and restraint on the conversation would be a fool's errand, she realized. Though she paid little mind to his 'sass'—except for the slightest hint of amusement, that is—she maintained as calm a visage as when the conversation first struck.

At the question, she remained silent. Uncomfortably so, as her eyes seemingly burrowed into his skin with a burning intensity only Lythrani could muster, like a predator deciding on its prey.

It was only after an incredibly uncomfortable few moments that she at last answered. "Perhaps, perhaps not. Time will tell." At that moment, it became clear that she was, as the humans would say, 'fucking with him,' though her face failed to show it. "A better term for it, at the moment, is observing."

 

[Jazat Mar]

The uncomfortable silence after his last question stretched on and he didn't like it. It set his teeth on edge and a few goosebumps appeared along his arms and the hairs stood up on the back of his neck. His hand immediately strayed back to his sword again.

And then the moment was over...

Maybe he was a little bit disappointed but mostly he was rather bemused. To suggest so casually that murder might be on your mind by silence alone? That took some metaphorical balls right there.

"Well observe away but I think we'd need to get to know each other a lot better before you observe me any closer."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Up here a man can say 'no' and it gets respected."

Still biting commentary on her society (he'd left it behind after all) aside, he held out the bottle he had been drinking from.

"Care for a drink while you decide what you want to do?"

 

[Lythrani Undraeth]

She had to admit, she delighted in witnessing the sheer discomfort her silence brought about over the man. Silence, at times, carried far more volume than the loudest shouts, and she prided herself on its utilization.

He didn't retreat or resort to landing the first blow, but he clearly possessed the instincts to do so. That would prove useful.

At the scathing remark on drow society, Lythrani only took on a passively amused look at the assumption behind it. He truly had gone native.

"Luckily for you, I have little interest," she replied matter-of-factly. "I have greater ambitions in my conversations than a simple, forced night of pleasure." As the drow woman spoke, she almost sounded disgusted at the thought.

She rose an eyebrow at the question, glancing down at the bottle being offered to her. "Ah, I'm... good." Still, Lythrani took a seat on a nearby chair, sitting with all the dignity one could muster while atop a ramshackle piece of wood. "How is it, being a mercenary for the surface-peoples?"

 

[Jazat Mar]

She had him on edge and they both knew it but he wasn't going to just sit back and take it. Didn't matter to him who struck the first blow - he wore armour for a reason. Let her strike and strike away until she was tired and he was still standing.

Both metaphorically and literally if she decided to do that.

Oh lovely, she didn't want him for his body. That was both insulting, welcome and just oh so very Drow. The suggested tone of disgust at the idea of it perked his interest a little bit but he didn't respond to it verbally or physically.

He stilled didn't actually trust her as far as he could throw her - she looked kind of heavy. Like she carried a lot of her weight around her hips kind of heavy. Still, she seemed more polite now so he would respond in kind.

No one asked a mercenary about work without offering some, in his experience.

"It's a decent living - get to travel to new and exotic lands, meet new interesting people and kill them." he replied with the same line so many mercs had said to him when he was younger, "The people are just as dumb and as proud as we are - little bit reckless with their short years. Have far too much meaningless sex."

He shrugged.

"But the places... they make it worth it." he admitted with a soft smile that he didn't mean to let slip but was unable to hide, "They have cities here built for the purpose of making colleges bigger. Towers that stretch higher than some of our cities are wide... there is something to enjoy up here. Poetry in their hearts even if they don't last long."

 

[Lythrani Undraeth]

As the mercenary spoke, Lythrani's eyes never moved off him, unwavering in their seeming constant intensity.

"It's good to know people don't change," she remarked plainly at his commentary, nodding along. She had little doubt regarding the matter, though the confirmation was appreciated. It's a shame some have too short lives to grow out of it, however.

Judging from the man's face, he had caught onto her intention. Good, it wouldn't catch him too off-guard.

It was the second set of comments that truly intrigued the woman, however. The failed attempt at hiding the smile that came with it interested her greatly, and the sentiment behind it could harbor some rather useful information.

She turned her gaze to the memorial as she listened, speaking once finished, "You clearly have a passion for your work, I commend it. Not everyone finds something they so deeply enjoy as your wanderlust, even in the most exciting of careers. From the seamstress who longs to kill, to the warrior who wishes to sew, few do."

"For the mercenary with wanderlust," she suddenly began, "I have a proposition of my own. If you are interested, that is. It requires a sense of discretion, one that can be taught should you desire it, intelligence, as well as the potential utilization of your old skillset. You will be paid far more than your prior employers should you agree, with housing and training provided."

She returned her gaze to the man. "The choice is yours."

 

[Jazat Mar]

People changed but they never did it unless there was a reason to. The people up here only changed when there was strife the level of which they couldn't weather as they were. Difference between them and the Drow was that storms of strife of that level were not uncommon up here whereas they were rare down below with the rest.

But he wasn't going to tell her that.

She didn't strike him as the kind of person who wanted a philosophical debate. No, in his mind she was the kind of person who wanted cold, hard, facts that she could then exploit to her own advantage. It was clinical and it was fucking beautiful in it's way. Scary but beautiful.

"If you pay me I'm yours to direct." he assured her simply, "You want a set of eyes, that's fine. A knife in the dark, okay. If you pay me enough I'll do whatever you want me to."

It was as simple as that.

He was selling himself and once a contract was made he belonged to whoever bought it, for it's duration. As a mercenary his word was his bond and his bond was why people would hire him or not. Some parts of the contract would need to be ironed out of course.

"Nature of the job? Housing?" he raised an eyebrow, "Explain. Elaborate."

 

[Lythrani Undraeth]

A small smile curled across her face at the affirmation; a rare show of emotion for the drow spymaster.

"Excellent," she replied. "I'd like both." What good was information if it couldn't be exploited, twisted, and utilized after all.

At the request for elaboration, she nodded. "I require an informant, a spy, and an assassin. Note that this isn't a typical assignment for one of your profession, but rather a whole profession in and of itself. You may perform mercenary work while employed under my wing, but it must not interfere with what I ask of you."

She paused, waiting for his acknowledgment before she continued onward. "You will soon be installed as an agent in one of the neighboring cities, Alliria, should you accept. You will regularly change location, but you would first need to establish contacts." Alliria was an economic stronghold in the region, and it was quite close to multiple sites of potential interest. The Empire was slowly increasing its boundaries, Vel Anir continued to destabilize its relationship with those of the Falwood, and Elbion was always the source of strange arcane experiments. All news traveled to Alliria, and it was an excellent position for a spy ready to go where needed given its central location.

"Housing will be provided for the duration of your business there, and a false identity can be provided should you require one with a bit more... stature. Training can be done to ensure you are at your full capability, and certain abilities can be honed." As if to display an example of these abilities, she rubbed a ring on her finger. Light streamed forward, bending and turning before coalescing into a glistening moonlight dagger. She twirled it in her hands with a deft grace, looking at him once more.

"So, Jazat, are you ready to be knife, my eyes, and my hands?"

He never told her his name.

 

[Jazat Mar]

A spy and an assassin job eh? Depending on where you put Mercenary Soldier on the list of evil things you could do for hire. He was willing to bet that technically he could probably view this as a promotion of sorts. If the pay was as good as he hoped then it definitely would be.

He waited for her to explain his duties, what she would expect of him and he was happy to say that none of it was out of his skillset. Humming a little bit, he nodded.

"All duties will be carried out to my own, exacting, standards rest assured."

His pride wouldn't let him half-ass any of it.

Alliria... made sense. It was a trading hub and a powerful place but the Reach was still wild enough that he could make money as a mercenary to explain his presence there. Having the chance to have a home and a different identity was promising...

"A small apartment in Alliria would be appreciated but no different identity; I am somewhat known there as a mercenary and I can get into places with the Rangers and others as I am." he assured her, wincing slightly when she said his name, "When you say it it sounds so menacing..."

Of course it WAS menacing but stiff upper lip and all that.

"Reports via dead-drop or in person?"

 

[Lythrani Undraeth]

"That's what I hoped to hear."

She listened politely to Jazat's assurances, nodding. "Of course. The housing will be prepared upon your arrival—I hear it has a wonderful view." Good, less work on her end. Identities were easy to fabricate, though they were dreadfully time-consuming given the required documentation and contacts that had to be spoken to. It was one of the perks of hiring a mercenary, after all: They tend to get well-known on their own merit.

At the wince, Lythrani only replied, "You'll learn." Her face remained utterly unmoving, save for the necessary adjustments to speak, and served as a testament to her career.

The question of reports was answered swiftly—though in a way that was likely different to what was expected.

Right as the mercenary uttered the last word, he saw Lythrani sit beside him. Not the one he had been speaking to, for she remained pleasantly stoic where she had been all along. This 'double' of sorts took a seat in a nearby chair close-by, answering instead, "Illusory is a more apt descriptor, I feel."

 

[Jazat Mar]

A wonderful view was kind of an odd choice for a drew - views tended to be their most "lovely" during sunrise and sunset the people on the surface told him. If he wanted to enjoy the view without hurting his eyes he was going to have to do it at night.

Might still be nice then.

"I'll make sure to make good time getting there then."

He might be a mercenary veteran of several bloody battles and some assassinations and thieving but there was something about a Lythrani suddenly appearing out of nowhere to sit beside him that scared the grey off his skin for a second. His heart racing, he eyed her illusionary clone for a second before staring back at the original.

This was getting out of hand - now there were two of them!

Staring a little while longer, he sighed a little bit and ran a hand throw his hair.

"Sure. Illusion clones - why not?" he muttered before shrugging, "That it? I need to sign somewhere? Give you my blood as collateral? Shake hands?"

 

[Lythrani Undraeth]

The reaction to the illusion, shocked and horrified as it was, delighted the spymaster. The slightest of smiles spread across both their faces, as the original leaned back in her seat as the other rested her chin in her hand.

Good, she still had her edge, even on hardened mercenaries.

"They're efficient, can't be intercepted, and far less dangerous. They're the natural choice," she replied swiftly. "Prove yourself capable, and you might just pick up on it yourself." The mirror image rubbed her ring, hinting at its enchantment as the original spoke.

At the mention of signing, it was the illusion who spoke in response. "A contract will be given to you, sign it and the deal will be made." She gestured to Lythrani, who had already produced the scroll upon which the contract had been written. The spymaster handed it over, quickly passing a writing utensil shortly after.

The handwriting was illustrious and flowing, though not unreadably so. The contract detailed much of what was spoken of, with no sign of it being misleading or deceptive in nature, and elaborated upon what was previously vague. It made mention of payment, proving an amount of gold that far exceeded a typical job, as well as training and tools provided (which made a mention of enchanted equipment). Near the bottom, it specifically stated that discussion of any interactions with Lythrani of House Undraeth with those not authorized would result in his immediate termination from the position.

"So the question is..." the illusion began. Immediately after, Lythrani continued, "are you ready to sign?"

 

[Jazat Mar]

Ugh.

"Twin speak... really?" he groaned a little bit, looking away, "Had enough of this with those human twins I met before, Gred and Forge... Whatever, not the worst kink an employer has ever had so I guess I'll get over it in time."

And with enough money.

Looking over the contract, he made sure to use a touch of magic to detect any illusions and dispel them. He might have been a defensive mage by trait but that didn't mean he didn't learn some tricks - including how to not get scammed by people with demonstrated illusion abilities.

Looked solid.

"Equipment is preferred to training - I specialize in defensive magics only." he told her bluntly as he withdrew a dagger, cutting his finger before signing with his blood, using a flare of magic to have it attach itself to the contract as a binding oath, "I'm your to direct... be gentle?"

 

[Lythrani Undraeth]

"Very well," she replied, giving a small wave of the hand. The illusory Lythrani merely stared into the drow mercenary before seamlessly melting back into the shadows around them. "Though not a twin, the sentiment is a common one."

Indeed, no illusory work could be found on any part of the contract. There was little point in angering an assassin, especially one who knows well enough and is experienced enough to be cautious about it.

Lythrani nodded at the blunt assertion, making a mental note on that point. "So be it. The equipment can serve as a substitute for your lacking offensive arcane repertoire, in that case." She watched as the paper was signed in blood, silently holding her hand out once he was finished.

At the comment, she smirked. "A spymaster is nothing if not gentle."

She continued, stating, "If you come to the main abode, your equipment can be granted to you. It's best not given where visible by prying eyes." Her eyes glanced about the camp, noting the few drow smart enough to steer clear of her in the midst of a discussion. "It should be quite useful for the tasks ahead of you, in both your duties, and whatever mercenary tasks you decide to take on in between them. "

 

[Jazat Mar]

Jazat didn't think he needed anything offensive in his arsenal in an arcane manner. He was a Dark Elf who enjoyed wearing heavy armour and defensive spells after all. No, the best offense in his opinion was a defense so solid that no one could do anything to you until they already had your sword in their guts.

It hadn't let him down so far but he knew things were often in flux when it came to magic. Best to be more prepared than he needed to be than to fall short he supposed.

And if he didn't use them he could sell them for some extra cash.

He smirked a little bit as he eyed her. He made no secret or disguise about how he looked her up and down briefly before smirking.

"You don't even know the meaning of the word."

Probably weird to flirt with his new boss but whatever.

He nodded and stood.

"You lead; I'll follow."

 

[Lythrani Undraeth]

If Jazat made no effort to disguise his admiring glance, Lythrani made no effort to acknowledge it or to stop it. All that arose from the attempt was a vague and cryptic look, neither dismissive nor approving in its movement. How the drow mercenary wished to interpret it was up to him.

At the affirmation, the spymaster got up from her seat. "Excellent." She turned around, walking towards the quarters she had been staying at since her appointment to the surface outpost. Her cloak trailed behind her, stars dotting its silk surface. As one looked at it, they could swear the stars would occasionally turn black as others twinkled brighter. Whether it was a trick of the mind or an intentional enchantment was unclear, but it certainly seemed intentional.

Lythrani eventually came to the main outpost building, opening the door to reveal her abode. The inside was exceedingly minimalistic and unnervingly practical, with a stark absence of anything resembling disorganization. In a way, it truly did resemble the one who resided there.

The drow moved swiftly to her desk, signaling for jazat to close the door. "Tell me, Jazat, what is it you desire in a tool? Is it one that remains unseen, hidden from prying eyes? One that is always ready, unable to be caught off guard? Or something that can take you places beyond your reach? Perhaps it is something else instead."

She looked into his eyes as though she were trying to read them.

 

[Jazat Mar]

She was probably weighing up the best way to stab him through his armour. If her dagger was enchanted she might be thinking about shanking him straight up into the heart but his armour was enchanted with defensive magics for just that reason. He might not be an illusionist but he knew his defensive magics more than well enough to cover for that in his mind.

Of course when she walked off he paused for a moment.

Oh... she took that literally?

He resisted the temptation to roll his eyes and instead followed along without comment. She had a pretty cute looking cloak for a spymistress - was she secretly one of those really girly women who loved sparkles and pink and rainbows or whatever?

Closing the door behind her, he thought about what she was offering him. Thinking about it for a moment, he decided rather quickly.

"Something that distracts or robs others of their senses." he shrugged, "Temporary or permanent, I care not."

He could work around both after all.

 

[Lythrani Undraeth]

It was a good thing he didn't wonder that aloud, for it would have been a rather easy method of getting quickly proven wrong.

Lythrani nodded at the answer, considering it a moment. "To damn one's senses, then. An interesting choice indeed, and one that'll certainly come in handy."

Her eyes traced Jazat's body for a moment, sketching out each line and crevice. For a moment, it may have appeared as her checking him out. Of course, such a foolish notion would be quickly dismissed as her eyes rested upon the drow's gauntlet.

She motioned for him to take one of them off, not caring which, and took it in her hand. Placing the piece of equipment on the desk before her, she rotated her palm around it as a moonlight trail of mana flowed around it.

Her finger began to write out complex runes, each completed set resulting in the ring brightening in intensity. Jazat would recognize them as being vaguely based on Elvish, though portions were drawn from a myriad of languages—both ancient and living in nature. She murmured under her breath, eyes turning black, "Break these mortal chains, bend and break the bonds. Let the magic flow, and let eyes be damned at the sight."

The gauntlet soon had a swirling ring of light around it, occasionally flickering with spouts of midnight shadow that erupted from it. With a slight flex of the hand, the ring immediately pressed into the gauntlet with a scorching radiance. As it slowly dissipated, runes began to be branded into the gauntlet—the same that had been written before.

She took it in her hands and presented the enchanted item to Jazat, faint light emanating from the burning runes as the faintest trickles of shadow escaped it. Should he put it on, the glow would diminish entirely and leave the runes alone.

"The gauntlet is now yours. Direct it to those who you wish to rob of their sight, and the enchantment shall activate." A good enchanter was a rare commodity, for the profession was oftentimes less flashy and thanked than others, and enchanted gear for free was far rarer.

Should the mercenary attempt to use the enchantment on her, of course, it would completely fail. After all, it's crucial to have a contingency plan when dealing with others. Some would call it paranoia; she called it preparation.

 

[Jazat Mar]

Yeah he was confident in his choice. He didn't need something to help him kill someone because, honestly, you could kill someone with basically anything. Mortals were so very death-prone when you stopped to think about it with some measure of creativity.

But he was going to be a spy and an assassin too so he needed to make up for some of his short comings and one of them was that he was absolutely terrible at coming up with lies on the spot. Rather than having to talk his way out of a tight spot with guards or whatever, he'd love to be able to just use something and run away.

Raising an eyebrow, he removed the bracer on his left forearm. The bracer on his right arm was already enchanted with a barrier spell that he could activate quickly to form a magical buckler shield. He didn't want to risk that the different magics could disrupt each other so he handed her the one he hadn't done anything to yet.

Still, the light was a little bit irritating. Though less so for him considering how much time he spent above ground these days. He barely narrowed his eyes... probably proof that, by Drow standards, he was loosing his True Eyesight.

Or whatever they wanted to call dark vision.

He accepted the gauntlet, not having the heart to remind her that the gauntlet had always been his. All she'd done was pray over it a bit. Still, it was the kind of work that he could appreciate; it was decent and it was free. He flexed his hand back in the guantlet and found it was just as flexible as before.

"Alright - thanks."

He pulsed a touch of magic into the gauntlet, not enough to activate it but enough to examine it through how his own magic interacted with it.

"Feels good, connection will improve with time."

Given enough time his own magic would mix with the trigger mechanism to be seamless. Right now it would take conscious effort to activate it but with time it would be instinctive, like an extra finger or something rather than armour.

"I have a job I'm going to pull in the Reach." he admitted, "It was going to be for coin but it's adaptable - I'm going to steal into an officer's rooms of an Allirian Ranger's outpost. Troop movements, supply lines, wages and some enchanted equipment. I'll try and keep it non-alligned mercs and cut-throats but I may need to reach out for additional agents should my search come up short."