ACanadianCraft (Nate)

Jullius joins the strange fellows in laughing, creating quite a racket.

Jullius slung his White Rose Arbalest Crossbow back over his shoulder as he strolls toward the White Rose Keep. He crosses serenely under the gateway and into the courtyard. It was, as it was every night. Cold, and devoid of life. Although he could not see much, the lights from the starts above assisted his journey. Not that he needed them, as this was a path he had traveled countless times. The silence was only interrupted by the click of his iron boots against the stone courtyard floor. After several moments of striding through the dark courtyard, he approached the main Keep itself and was met by the warm glow of the torches within, and before long he was could hear the familiar dull roar of the troops within the keep. He took these final moments to look to his side to verify that his gruesome charge was still in his position. With the help of the soft light emanating from within the fast approaching keep, he was able to see that he did indeed still have it within his possession. Finally, he entered the Main Keep. He did as he normally did, and acknowledged nobody. There were a few footmen in the front room, presided over by Sam Carter. A few of the footmen’s eyes darted to that gruesome item hung by Jullius’ side, and then to the blood which ran down his tabard and onto his leg but he disregarded them. He hung a left out of the front room and up a staircase. He made haste down the hallway, until he reached the scriptorium. He eagerly ducked inside, grabbed a piece of parchment, and sat himself down at a desk. He reached into his tabard and pulled a quill out from within it. He set the quill momentarily in an ink well. He then reached down to his side, and roughly tugged the gruesome item free of his belt as a few droplets of blood fell to the floor. Once it was free he lay it to rest on the desk in front of him. Jullius narrowed his eyes at the severed arm before him, looking the bloodstained appendage up and down, laying his gaze to rest on its hand. The skin on the hand was dark, though that he had no particular interest in. He had seen his fare share of severed Elven appendages. After all, he was there at The Sacking of Malinor, a bloodbath unlike any other. He looked up, recalling the events momentarily as if they were yesterday. After a short time, he shook himself free of those thoughts and lay his gaze to rest once more on the dark flesh of the feminine hand. He was not focused on the limb itself however. More so, what was on that limb. On the back of the hand lay what he suspected to be runes, which ran all the way up the forearm. After his careful observation, the plucked his quill from the inkwell, and set to work copying down the runic symbols onto the piece of parchment before him. In the back of his mind he had a sneaking worry that the symbols would prove little more than tribal Mori’Quessir symbols, carved into the skin. He pushed that idea aside for the time being, and continued his work until every last symbol was copied down onto the sheet of parchment. Once he had completed his task, he stood up from his seat. With a content grin, he looked over the piece of parchment. “I will have to do further research myself, but I’m sure that Captain Toov will be fascinated when he sees these! Finally I will have something to do other then patrol back and forth between the checkpoints!” Jullius nods curtly to himself once more, before folding the paper and tucking it away in one of his tabards many pockets. He then breathes a deep sigh before exiting the scriptorium.

I really enjoy this idea. It's a shame poor Jullius is immortal, and I likely wont be able to play one :P Although, I would rise a perhaps obvious question. Can these respective spooks interact with each other?

*Jullius observes the flier briefly. After a quick scan of the parcment, his eyes fix on the motto.* "Is this undercutting the market or something? Whatever it is, Toveah will not be pleased."