"Citizen. A moment of your time?"

The voice of the Septim emperors would never have reached far beyond their lips had not men like Ja'varr opened their ears to them. The agents of the empire carry forth the Ruby Law over Tamriel, with discretion and efficiency. Solving pleas, silencing curses, righting wrongs. They are heralds of the Seven-Folded voices, and when the voice will not suffice, the snake-steel of ages past in their hands will.

Ja'varr is an interesting specimen. A cunning and conniving cat he is, but beneath the terrifying and immovable dignity of the imperial machine. Cat's paw preserved like amber in jagged diamonds. The light of the moons as seen in the reflection of a twisted monkey-blade. The sort of fellow that gives numidiumism a face. The sort of fellow who will hunt an enemy of the state into oblivion itself.

The sort of fellow who is not taken in by simple tricks. Even if you do run to another province to start again under a new name.

"I am looking for Managan. Where can I find her?"

--

Another briefcase find. Javert, if he was in the Elder Scrolls and was a cat and a bit less grumpy. Turned out good enough for display.