Snippet #2059246

"The Serpent? I heard about you. Nothing good and it came from the mouths of drunken travellers, but I heard some stories."
"You don't tend to make many friends when you make a living killing their loved ones." Talen-Shei replied as he finished his pint, "All I require is that people give me the respect I deserve. People who cross me don't tend to live long."

Once Talen-Shei finished his stew, he stood up and pushed his chair under.
"I must be going now." He told Rexia, "I have business to attend to."

Talen-Shei once again had to step into the bitter cold of Eastmarch, a cold he didn't want to have to bear for long. He hoped the Palace of the Kings would be as warm as the inn. The Palace of the Kings was to the north, and not particularly far away.

As he expected, Talen-Shei did not receive a warm welcome as he approached the palace. The guards standing in front of the large, steel doors both drew their weapons, a mace and a battleaxe. Talen-Shei knew they wouldn't listen to reason unless they were helpless, so he hurled a throwing knife at the mace, splitting through the handle, making it unusable. He then leaped at the guard with the axe and slammed his foot down on his right wrist, causing his to drop his axe and clutch his wrist in pain. Talen-Shei kicked his axe away, leaving both guards helpless.
"Stone-Fist was right, the Stormcloaks really are in need of specialists." Talen-Shei sighed as he removed a scroll from his cloak, opened it and showed it to the helpless guards, "I have a personal invitation from Galmar Stone-Fist. Ready to let me in now?"
Without waiting for an answer, he barged past and into the palace.

The hall was relatively empty, Ulfric wasn't in the room, and neither was Galmar. Only a man in a red shirt and a fuzzy hat.
"Galmar Stone-Fist, the Serpent has arrived!" Talen-Shei called out and waited for Galmar to present himself.