Isrudde Crows-Watch | |||
---|---|---|---|
Home Settlement | Crossroads Encampment | ||
Race | Nord | Gender | Female |
Health | 39,959 | ||
Reaction | Justice Neutral | ||
Pickpocket | Medium | Profession | Soldier |
Other Information | |||
Faction(s) | Crossroads Profiteers |
Isrudde Crows-Watch is a Nord soldier found at the Crossroads Encampment located in Craglorn. She is the de facto leader of the Crossroads Profiteers, a group of deserters and misfits that earn their keep by looting battlefields throughout Cyrodiil and reselling the used wares. Isrudde thinks little of her group, considering them dull-witted, having no qualms about using them to do her dirty work or if they die—claiming she can just get a new lot from local prisons.
DialogueEdit
When spoken to she'll greet you with one of the following:
- "Grim times make good business. You should examine our wares. Talk to Severa. She'll offer you a spectacular deal."
- "Everyone is welcome at the Crossroads! Just leave your hostility on the road and keep your gold handy."
- "In search of high-quality equipment at a fair price? You've come to the right place."
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- Are you the leader of this outfit?
- "You could say that. Though "leader" isn't quite the word I'd use. I'm more of a herder. This camp's like a shelter for lost dogs. Not a handful of brains among the lot of them.
But, you know, even a dull-witted mutt has its uses." - What kind of uses?
- "Chores, mostly. The offensive things I'd rather not do. For example, rooting through a dead man's pockets is no spring picnic. I just point, whistle, and throw them a few pieces of gold when they do a good job. Easy."
- Why not find smarter companions?
- "Why would I do that? Smart companions are trouble. They don't listen and they don't stick around.
Great thing about this lot is that they'll probably all be dead within a month. Once they're gone, I'll just gather a few more from the local prison."
- "You could say that. Though "leader" isn't quite the word I'd use. I'm more of a herder. This camp's like a shelter for lost dogs. Not a handful of brains among the lot of them.
- What's going on here?
- "Business! And business is good!
We collect discarded arms and equipment, restore it, and sell it back to whoever can afford it." - "Discarded?"
- "Poached, stolen, appropriated, purloined—take your pick. We follow the action in Cyrodiil very closely. When an army gets obliterated, we swoop in and gather up the orphaned gear."
- So you make a profit from the war?
- "Exactly. Don't give me that look. There's a market for the items we sell. Supply and demand.
If we weren't selling them, someone else would be. That's commerce."
- "Business! And business is good!
- You're not worried about an Iron Orc attack?
- "Do I look worried to you? Do you think I picked this spot at random? I'm not the prey, my friend. I'm the predator. A fine camp like this—the Iron Orcs can't resist it.
- How do you hold them off?
- "Well, let's be honest—those savages aren't guild scholars. The second we catch wind of an attack, I send these brick-skulled mutts into the bushes. We hit them with a hail of arrows and finish off the stragglers with axes and flails. Simple."
- That's not going to work forever?
- "Yeah sure, the Iron Orcs will catch on—eventually. But we'll be long gone by then. I'm sure those fine people in Dragonstar will be able to handle it. And if not ... well, we'll have a lot of work to do. There's lots of goods behind those walls."
- Are you the leader of this outfit?