Banter with Nine-Toes
After talking to Caius, Elo decides to buy some more Mazte at the South Wall and bring it to Toes. He heads in and holds the bottles up high; “thirsty?” “Not doing much else,” Toes says. Elo tells him about the Guild job before they move on about Caius:
Elo: "So I drag myself to Caius, yeah? First thing out the old man's mouth is, 'are you here to finally discuss your orders, Elo Aran?' Like I haven't been running his subordinates' chores for two weeks. Calls me green and says I look it."
Toes: "You do look it, beeko. There's no denying that."
Elo: "Guess so. Called me eager for pressing on anyway. Damn right I am. I needed answers."
Toes: "Did you get any?"
Elo: "No, not really. Nothing useful at least. Another errand. Two cults to sniff out, and apparently impressing him with history lessons later. 'No point in being part of history if you're too ignorant to understand it.'"
Toes: "Ha. Sounds like him alright."
Toes: "He's fine. Sour. A worrier. But he knows his job. Lets us handle ours without breathing down our necks."
Elo: "Wonder when I'll get that treatment. Slapped two hundred drakes in my hand too. Like I can't take care of myself. Living on Imperial Charity now."
Toes: "Quit your whining. Drink. Empire's not so bad, kept the peace and quiet for centuries."
Elo: "Right. You're right on that at least. And I'll drink to that. What is this anyway? Better than that swamp water ale they peddle in the Imperial City."
Toes: "Mazte, beeko. Fermented saltrice. Beer, but done proper. Now, these cults of yours. Spill, maybe I can help."
Elo: "Two of them. Nerevarine cult, and something called the Sixth House. Caius wants me to ask Haspat Antabolis at the Guild."
Toes: "Nerevarine cult's just a bunch of Ashlanders, mostly. They're our enemies. They'd be glad to see us gone from Vvardenfell, preferably dead. But truth is, they're just a few suborn barbarians. Really, they just want to be left alone."
Elo: "Doesn't sound friendly."
Toes: "Sixth House though... I've heard next to nothing, just whispers and vague rumors. But something is different recently. There's always people with secrets around here. Smugglers, syndicates, Daedric cults, but lately folk seem to be a little uneasy. Like there's a new player on the board, and nobody knows much about him, and nobody wants to get caught with their guard down."
Elo: "So much for 'quiet for centuries.'"
Toes: "Not anymore, no. Maybe that's why they've got me stuck charting swamps and rivers. Maybe it's bigger than smuggling. Maybe... they're planning on moving Legions through here, if it all goes bad."
Elo: "Ah well friend, not our burden. Let not the left hand know what the right hand is doing. Best they keep their secrets."
Toes: "I'll drink to that, beeko."
