As the sun began her slow ascent to the heavens, Neetar left his perch
on top of the large building and
slipped into some convenient shadows to think. He hadn't seen the elf,
Tabanallis, leave the tavern, so
it seemed he'd have to go in. Not a problem. Loosening his weapons, he
flitted across the open space
to the rear wall of the Porcupine. A jump and a strong grip had him on a
window ledge. He surveyed the
room inside, and finding it empty, went to work on the lock. A few
seconds later, he was inside. 

He went carefully out into the corridor, Reaper in hand. The tavern was
still dark at this juncture, so he 
continued on to the next door. Opening it a crack, he peered in. A small
form lay in the bed, snoring 
heavily. It was not his quarry. He left and went to the next door. Again
it was not Tabanallis. He
checked all the rooms in this fashion. He had had a couple of close
shaves, with people nearly waking
up, but a quick blow to the back of the head had sorted them out. One
resource exhausted, he decided 
check the common room.

Stopping near the top of the steps, so that he could just see into the
busy-looking common room, 
Neetar spotted his prey. The elf seemed to be joining hands with a group
of other impressive-looking
people. Neetar realised just too late that this is what is done before a
teleportation spell is cast. There
was a bright flash as the group disappeared. Neetar cursed under his
breath and headed down the 
stairs.

Drawing his katana, Nemesis, he strolled up to the barman, grabbed him,
spun him around and held the
blade to his throat. "Where were they going?" he demanded.
"I..I..don't know!" stuttered the portly barman, as his wild eyes looked
around the room for help. One 
swarthy looking Nord approached, saying, "Now, look here, sir..." Neetar
threw the barman against the
wall and sent the Nord flying with a spinning roundhouse. He crashed
into a table and lay still. Neetar
went back to the barman and picked him up. "This is not a game. Where
did they go?" 
The barman looked into Neetar's coldly burning eyes and answered "I
honestly do not know, sir. All they 
said was that they were on some quest against the Dark Brotherhood!"

Neetar dropped the barman and turned around to survey the room. "Who is
the most powerful mage 
here?" he asked. A middle-aged man in blue and green robes stood up. "I
believe I am, sir, why?"
"You will teleport me to the destination of the group that just left. I
presume you can replicate the spell?"
The mage nodded and began moving his hands. Neetar looked on in
jealousy. It came so easily to 
some, and not at all to others. He thought it lucky he had asked the
magician-smith in the school of 
Julianos to make him an item so that teleport and levitate spells would
work on him. He wore the
bracelet now, as always. 

The mage finished his spell and pointed both hands at Neetar. A bolt of
bluish-white lightning streaked
from his fingertips towards Neetar. Neetar watched calmly as the bolt
impacted on his chest. He felt a 
slight tingle spreading around his body. The mage stood there, still
with his hands out, stunned at the 
failure of his most powerful destruction spell. He then clutched his
neck as a dagger thrown by Neetar 
sprouted out of his throat. As he fell over, Neetar asked "Who is the
next most powerful mage in the 
room?" 

A younger man stood up. "Good," said Neetar, "You will teleport me, or
you will die. If you teleport me
to the wrong place, I will find you, and then you will die." The young
mage nodded mutely and waved
his hands a few times. There was another bright flash, and then the
harsh sunlight hit Neetar's sensitive
eyes. He was in a desert somewhere. He swore, and cursed the young mage.
Then he saw the tracks.
Recently made. A large group.

Neetar set off to follow the tracks.
****************************************

Sorry if this is a bit out of the timeline again...

Ben / Tab.