[matt]

Jacqueline, Forge, Evening.

She gave him a firm handshake and a big smile. "I can make tha full body without tha head 'n have it brought to you in a day unless I'll have difficulties findin tha right materials. I assume ye're gonna want tha body as soon as possible ta have somethin' ta put tha armour on. Then after that it'll be another day, maybe two, fer me ta make tha head 'n tha rest of tha mannequin. I'll be deliverin' all of it so ya don't have ta leave yer work ta come pick it up." She looked at the black armour. "So what's tha main sellin' point? I dun really know much about armour so yer gonna have ta enlighten me."

She took a closer look at it, and ran her fingers across the chestpiece. "What exactly is this 'chitin' thing? Feels kinda strange. Never seen anythin' like it."

[Phillip Hamilton]

Roymund Inventius, Helas' Folly. Evening

As the scene in the Inn continued to unravel ahead of Roymund, he took several large gulps from his mug of mead. His arm was still distracting him from the nights entertainment. "Should be back to normal by the end of week" he thought "Bloody painful, but cant be worse then legions treatment.."

An interesting looking woman marched into the tavern next, well interesting was a polite word for what he saw. "Wh--.. What is that on her?" his vision became afixed on the dwemer technology attached on her arm for a moment before he realised he was staring. He broke off his gaze just as she spoke, something about a house Telvanni. Roymund looked between his injured arm and his mug "Not even drunk much yet.."
He picked up his mug and walked headed to one of the rooms far tables, Sitting down he watched as the argument continued.

[Shae Munro]

Danus Maximus. Helas Folly. Evening.

The damn elf just ignored atleast half of what I

"Cyrodillic faliure? Look at Morrowind! I have nothing against the Dunmer but Morrowind is in a worse shape than any other province. Most of it is either a damn wasteland or ruled by the Argonians. Atleast Cyrodill is able to have a stable government. You know what? Fine I'll give you more of my fine excuses! I kiss the emperor's ass to cure him of Rockjoint! And I have to kiss the even bigger ass of a Thalmor Elf to cure him Rockjoint as well."

I said that in an obvious sarcastic tone; though I got a feeling the Dunmer will make use that against me.

"There. Here are my so call excuses! Now tell mt yours. I'm sure you arrogant Telavani have some excuses as well. Like do you have one for enslaving Argonians and Kahjiiit? What about your excuses for you and your former friends at Morrowind for hiding on top of their damn towers some of which not even participating in Telavani Politics despite being the very leaders of the house? Hell there are probably some that are still in the towers and have no idea what is going on? You Televani are even bigger cowards then your vision of an Imperial."

I have nothing against The Dunmer culture but house Telavani is one of the few parts that I don't like about it.

[Richard]

Gorbad Yak-Bogadbu, his house, evening.

Jack explained how long it'd take, but pointed out that she'd bring the body part as soon as it was done and then later finish it. Sounded good to Gorbad. She then asked what the main selling point of the armor was, wondering what chitin actually was.
"This is Chaurus chitin. It's the hide of a big underground insect. Its tough enough to make for quality armor, but it's also very light." That partially answered the question of the selling point, but he thought it'd be better to list them separately anyways.

"The main selling point is its usefulness, just like any armor and weapon. It's is durable, but light. An important part of the selling is, however, the rarity. This is, dare I say, a one time opportunity." More or less. Probably. But you should never mentioned the words maybe or something similar when trying to sell something. "Another is the quality. Made by an experienced orcish blacksmith." He paused and gave the two of them a serious look before he said:

"Now this is the really important part. You mustn't try to sell it like you could profit from it. More like you're sorry that you couldn't afford it. You need to sound and act like you have nothing to gain from telling others about it. I'm sure you understand why that is, but in case you don't; They won't take you seriously otherwise." His tone changed to a much less serious one and gave them a big smile. He walked outside and stood in the doorway, waiting for the two of them to follow him so he could lock his door.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'll clean up at the forge for today. Unless you have any question?"

[Flesh Tunnel]

Jacqueline, Forge, Evening.

She listened to his explanation while holding one of the gauntlets, trying to figure out how it was put together. It was indeed very light. She wondered how it would feel wearing the entire outfit. Many years ago when she was just a kid one of the mercenary guards had let her try on his platemail cuirass and she had found it really clunky and hard to move around in. A cuirass made out of bug hides and leather sounded much more appealing. She put the gauntlet down next to its brother and followed Gorbad outside.

"Gotcha, loud 'n clear" she grinned. She wouldn't need to pretend that she was interested in the armour. She looked at Alguidar. "Imagine walkin' around dressed in a bug. Now that's somethin'" she giggled.

[Kathryn Medows]

Jormaw, Fiona's Tower to Hela's Folly, Evening.

The saxhleel was happy to hear that his companion was welcoming to his company. 'Trust won' he quaintly chuckled to himself.
Down the stairs they went, Jormaw's feet all the while thumping along to the daedra hunter's 'clicker clickerty click'.
'Second day and I've already made an understandable agreement with a nibenese. Hah, Amiel Truptor would be displeased.'

Colovians came to his mind with that thought. 'Would they have caught a trace in Evermor? I hope that family was understanding.'
The nobles of the colovian estates could catch up to him at any moment and what could he do? payment was not an option now.
His coin was all but put down to investment, arms retired to a mere fisherman's career and no official leverage could be made either.

The lizard presently opened the keep door for Leandra to slip through, creeping behind slowly to take in the local tree scent.
'The Hist would mummer that through synthesis anything can be achieved or should be.' Presently it was all but silent to the argonian.
Although from time to time he could smell whispers from the Hist when matters would deign that influence could alter events more favorably.

To it being more favorable for the argonian or the Hist (through some kind of butterfly effect) is not known. Other matters would be
deemed more important for now. He needed to be prepared for a hostile outcome- preparation could be made through new allies.
So if anything were to happen to him, surely such friends would aid the lizard. 'Maybe,' a spark in his mind retracted in response.

'That Alguidar was quite the exemplar of the nord stereotype which other lands like to deign upon the whole populace.'
A smell of herbs was in the air, but instead of inspecting them as he usually would, the argonian continued with his small thoughts.
'And then there's Ulfric..' With that line of thinking came coincidentally the sight of the old farmer and Little Clover over at Gorbad's smithy.

The group had moved out of his view before they could notice Jormaw. To which was responded with a sigh of relief from the saxhleel.
After this morning's events, he'd prefer not to simmer things up with the neighbours anymore. Time was needed to study their movements and
learn to what these nords found appropriate. Like understanding the dance of a wamasus- one only runs into fire if attempting a leap of faith.

Bump, bump, bump! went his spear's shaft as it walked down the stepped road and into the inn. His first sight inside the glowing hall of musk
was what looked to be a pompous imperial having an argument with a pompous dunmer. 'Typical' he thought as his slitted eyes rolled around.
A step to slip past the mercenary observing events landed him to the bar. With patrons being so distracted, this was a good time to order up.

"Ssh, you're the new bartender then?" the man nodded in response. "Ah, see you're busy. Well I'll be having a round of your strongest."
The argonian looked around for the man whom had needed his attention. With a few twist and turns of his head, he spotted the ranger on a far table.
He clambered over to him before silently placing his spear, as well as the clannfear's now dried skull against a dark wall. To gather less attention.

An apologetic nod was presented to the imperial for his lateness and with the drinks poured, some strong ale to settle his stomach as well.
Jormaw gestured distantly to the daedra hunter that there was some table space available near to the two, if that what she was looking for.

"Sorry about the hour to which I arrive, Land-Strider. Events have a way of distracting me." He pointed to the skull laying adjacent.
With a clawed foot going under the small table (for an archein) he progressively falled into a seating position where he could converse comfortably.
"You are alright still I hope? has the rockjoint progressed?" The lizard took a sip of his cold brew, being surprised to find that it was argonian ale.

[Unstoppable Judge]

Alguidar, Gorbad's House, Evening

The two had finally reached an agreement. Alguidar shook his hand as Jacqueline asked a few questions about the strange armor. She was surprisingly excited about it, Alguidar wouldn't have guessed this would get her interest. Gorbad added a few pointers: the armor was rare, durable and light. It made sense just by looking at it but it just seemed unlikely that they'd stumble into something groundbreaking like that. If the Orc really knew what he was doing though, this could sell for a hefty sum.

They were finally led outside by Gorbad. He had a big smile on his face, there was no mistaking it this time. "Friendly, this one. For an Orc." Thought Alguidar, more used to the brash type.

"Imagine walkin' around dressed in a bug. Now that's somethin" Said Jacqueline with a giggle.

"We're not going to sell it if you keep saying that." Said Alguidar with a chuckle, amused by this new predicament they were in. A farmer and a carpenter, selling some never seen before armor made out of underground insects.

Alguidar stepped outside to the cold air from the evening's sky. The wind carrying some heat from the forge that he could feel in his face. The change of environment made him pick up on something that has been bothering him for a while.

During all this time, from the moment they arrived to the blacksmith, there was this peculiar and familiar scent that the air carried intermittently around the forge. It kept nagging him as he couldn't quite figure out what it was. He knew it but it was faint and masked by all kinds of different odors that the metals emitted in the forge. The fact that Alguidar was very hungry at this point got him to finally figure it out.

"Burnt meat!" he thought with his nose up high, sniffing the air. "Has to be!"

He turned to the Blacksmith and, with a smile, he jokingly said : "Someone overcooked their dinner, heh?"

[Franko AlVarado]

Gorbad Yak-Bogadbu, his forge, evening.

Just as the two of them were about to leave, Alguidar looked around himself as if he smelled something. Then he turned around and looked at Gorbad, who was now blushing ever so slightly, but a big smile on his face.
"Someone overcooked their dinner, heh?" Alguidar said jokingly. "How could he possibly... A.. The smell. Dammit." Gorbad tried to look as puzzled as he could, but that warm and friendly smile was still on his face.

"I assure you, I have no idea what you're talking about." He said, but smiled even wider and winked. He walked over to the wooden table and the workbench while he waved a short good-bye to the two. Quite friendly both of them. Especially since Gorbad knew that Alguidar fella supported Ulfric. At least if the conversation he'd overheard could be believed. He hummed to himself, the smile still clutched on his face as he began to put hammers and tools back to their places.

[Sandeep Khatkar]

Jacqueline, Forge, Evening.

She picked up the nails and put them in her bag while Alguidar and Gorbad exchanged words. Now that Alguidar mentioned it, it did smell like burned meat around the forge. She wondered if Gorbad had tried to use his forge as a grill. If he had, why not just use the fireplace inside?

She walked down the steps from the forge and down on the street. The change from the heat of the forge and the cold of the Valton evening gave Jacqueline goosebumps. She stretched her arms and yawned a little bit while she waited for Alguidar.

[Krystina Proietti]

Roymund Inventius, Helas' Folly. Evening

Roymund watched as the familiar Argonian took a seat alongside his table, the fisherman seemed to regret being late and offered excuses by way of a skull. "Probably best not to ask" he told himself once he'd seen it.
With a quick glance ahead at the discussion still mid-flow, Roymund swapped his focus onto the lizard. With a nod, he spoke "Dont worry about the lateness, It was possibly a blessing in disguise" he hinted down at his injured arm, part of his bandage hung below his shirt sleeves "Whilst awaiting your company, i took a walk around the hold. Came across a priest, one of your kin, who was more than welcoming towards me and made use of his healing skills." Roymund took a moment to gulp down some of his mug "Say's it'll only be a few days before i'm back to normal. So i'm afraid it may have been a wasted journey for you to seek me here now." he offered a smile with his last words "Unless you wish to see a couple nobles arguing, anyway."

After a few moments of watching the Imperial and Dunmer share words, Roymund spoke out to the Argonian once more. "One of my fellows, the farmer, told me it was a folly idea to accept your assistance. I fear you've left an opinion with him which wont be easily fixed. Do you plan to do anything about that?" He asked, keeping his tone quizical but friendly.

[patricia kris]

Theseus, Valton, Evening

Although he was exhausted and in a good amount of pain Theseus was on top of the world. Who wouldn't be? After all he met Jacqueline. The Redguard even began to hum a tune as he made his way towards
the chapel.

Sounds of merriment could be heard coming from a large building that was most likely the Inn. His assumption's were confirmed when he peeked inside. There was a large crowd, even for a Skyrim tavern. There
seemed to be some kind of argument going on between an aged Dark elf and a small group of men.

His attention was grabbed by a strange looking woman and an Argonian. The Argonian seemed to be normal enough (or at least as normal as an Argonian can be) but there was something strange about the woman
that Theseus couldn't quite put his finger on...finger on. That's what it was! The Lady had a metal hand!

Theseus sighed. He could only imagine how interesting this night could turn out to be. But he needed the rest and that was that.

He made his way to the small chapel and entered with a small creek of the door. The Argonian priest was sitting down on one of the benches writing something.

"Excuse me. But where was it you said I could stay for the night?"

[RaeAnne]

Varyn, Hela's Folly, Evening



Varyn was enjoying this little "argument" quite a lot by now. His smile stretched from ear to ear as he puffed away merrily on his pipe. His attitude could be described is quite giddy, almost to a comical level. The Imperial, however, seemed to be his antithesis. The man was becoming quite infuriated with Varyn and his prodding, which only tickled the Dunmer even more. As he waited for the man to formulate a reply the door to the inn opened to reveal a young lass in a trench coat. His eyes widened as he noticed the all to familiar construct of a Dwemer pipe protruding from her shoulder, steaming steadily. Ooooh, this is interesting. I must have a chat with this one. Perhaps she'll let me do some tests on that arm of hers.

Varyn then saw the girl mouth something out loud, but his bad hearing couldn't pick up on it. He was about to tell the girl to speak louder until the imbecile of a man next to him opened his mouth. Varyn turned his smiling face back to the Imperial as the man spouted off again. The old mer simple smoked his pipe calmly and smiled at the man as he raged on. Varyn let out a dry cackling laugh as the man finished.

"You know nothing of the Telvanni do you?" He chuckled once again before taking another drag off the pipe, "We don't need an excuse for anything. If we want some damn slaves then we'll take them. Same for politics. Why waste your time arguing over semantics and useless guar [censored] when you can kill the bastard and be done with it?" Varyn poked his cane forward in a stabbing motion, "My brother made that mistake and I turned him into a pile of smoldering ash," he broke out into laughter once again, "There is no excuse for power my boy," the old wizard's voice was rough and coarse. He puffed the pipe once more, a smile still plastered on his face. "Now begone. I fear that if I laugh any more I'll be spitting up my intestines."

The aged Dunmer then turned to walk away from the Imperial. The Nord's had just brought in a piece of his luggage that he wanted to have a look at.

[Harinder Ghag]

Danus Maximus. Helas Folly. Evening.

Damn old bastard. This is exactly why me as well as most other people including many Dunmer, hated the Telvanni. They think they are better than everyone else because they happened to be excellent mages. And many of them, like the old bastard, have no morals or emotion if they feel they can get slaves because they feel like it. Their arrogant pride is what led them to their downfall. I would of loved to keep arguing with the old hag but he suddenly got out of my way; probably to to went to that same woman with what looked like a dwemer device on her hand. Thank the gods this is done. Maybe some fine mead will calm me down.

I then took a seat again with Titus. "Damn Telvanni. "Even after their downfall they still think they are supperior to everyone else."

[TASTY TRACY]

Jormaw, Hela's Folly, Evening.

The argonian was surprised to hear of more saxhleel in the hold and wondered if that one was sent to fill his job by the Hist.
Jormaw was also relieved to hearken that the man had been attended to. Even if it was in a rather 'sanguine roast' smelt manner.

"Do not worry, Land-Strider, I've come here for a drink as well." He sipped his drink while watching the almost finished local vocal arena.
"And your friend, Alguidar was it? I do not know how to handle him. Not yet anyway." Jormaw tickled his own throat curiously.
A continuation eluded him for a short while, "I've been in this land for not a long while and the peoples habits confuse me."

The saxhleel managed to finish with an explanation. "Recently crossed the border from Jehanna in High Rock and have looked to
get an experience of what the locals were like before settling down." He gave a little sigh and reapproached the topic in displeasure.
"However, it would appear the nords don't welcome many of my, nor the split tribesman of the west's kin to their cities." He sneered.

"So my encounters with them have been rather rare at best. I did not know they take offense from the disarming of weaponry."
Jormaw had heard among from several gossips that the warriors of Hammerfell and Skyrim respected each other practices or habits in combat.
One rural tradition in Hammerfell was that if a duelist had disarmed his opponent without killing him, he won favour or the winning side to their argument.

This the argonian had hoped would be at least noticeable in some nordic corruption of redguard local practices.
But after all, they had been farmers. Not a bunch of honour bound brigands to which Jormaw thought they were.

[Elizabeth Lysons]

Roymund Inventius, Helas' Folly. Evening

Roymund nodded along with the Argonians story, periodically taking gulps from his mug. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm still confused by half the locals though i've only been here a few days." he offered a smile to show he was attempting humour "From what i've seen, these Nords take first impressions seriously. I wouldnt have been best pleased if you'd forced your way into my home and broken my belongings either, nor i'm sure would you if the tables had been turned."

Roymunds mind drew back to his first encounter with Alguidar, "Suppose i'd better not bring up him threatening me with an axe on our first meeting..". He endulged himself a brief smile before returning to the conversation. "Well, you came here to experience how the locals are so i guess you've learnt it's not the wisest of moves to disarm people for the sake if it." he shrugged after his comment and took another mouthful of mead.

Watching as the nights entertainment drew to a close, Roymund let out a sigh. He slumped back in his chair alittle, nursing his wound across his chest as he did. He watched as the Dunmer returned to his troop of servants and the Imperial to his troop of ..troops.

[Olga Xx]

Alguidar, Gorbad's House, Evening

Gorbad looked embarrassed by Alguidar's suggestion that he'd overcooked his dinner. Either that or he really didn't know what the farmer was talking about. It was strange that it only smelled of burnt meat outside but not inside the house. Alguidar's mind was taken away from it when the Orc waved in goodbye and started cleaning up his forge. Alguidar figured he kept working until later than usual to finish the nails today. Jacqueline had taken them and was already on the main road of Valton, waiting for the farmer.

"Getting Roymund's arrowheads took longer than I thought" Thought Alguidar, as concern got him to focus on going back again. "Hopefully he can still move his eyes... once for yes and... no... the other way around... yes."

He stepped into the main road, beside Jacqueline, getting ready for the trip back, now much lighter on their feet without all the farm products they carried into town.

"Keep your eyes open, if he turned to stone, he mustn't had gotten far." He didn't mean it as a joke but since he cracked one earlier, he added: "I'm sure he's fine. Probably just eating my potatoes."

[Lil Miss]

Jacqueline, Gorbad's House to Valton Farm, Evening.

"Yeah..." she mumbled. She had to admit she was kinda worried about Roymund. If he had tried to get back to the farm he could be lying face down in a shrubbery, paralyzed by his illness.

They began walking back to the farm while keeping an eye out for Roymund. They couldn't see him anywhere on the road, and when they reached the farm there was no light coming from the farmhouse windows. Jacqueline wondered if they should go out and look for him around the farm. Maybe he had toppled over in the pasture for some reason.

Jacqueline stood outside the farmhouse absentmindedly, trying to decide what to do. "Hmm..." she mumbled. "Do ya think 'es alright?"

[Big Homie]

Itan-Ru, Chapel, Evening


Itan-Ru had been finishing up his notes on the bird when he heard a small creak and turned to see Theseus walking (well, limping really) into the Chapel. He asked about where he could stay and the young Argonian stood up and said, "I set up your room upstairs. It's the door on your left as you get to the top. You should try to get some sleep, you'll need to rest if that hole is ever going to..." he trailed off as he caught a better look at the Redguard's face, or more accurately his expression.

He had an expression that Itan-Ru had seen any times on the faces of those who set up services in the Chapel back in Riften. His keen reptilian nose caught the slightest hint of pheromones: this human appeared to be in love with someone! He smiled wide and raised a knowing eyebrow at the young man. "So... meet anyone interesting today?" he said, suppressing a chuckle as he did so.

[Ashley Hill]

Jormaw, Hela's Folly, Evening.

The argonian noticed the imperial's mug was near empty and felt sympathetic to the man's troubles today, so poured some of his second bottle's
ale into the ranger's cup. While doing so he thought about the words said, 'This soft-skin thinks I would be troubled by someone disarming me?'

He thought people of the old north would be a little alien, but not as confusing as this. For Jormaw a disarming is a show of perceptive cleverness.
Indeed, worthy enough of yielding to. On the other hand, however, falling into a fury; like the farmer did, was of futile effort in the saxhleel's mind.

The archein took a sip from his first bottle of drink and gave a low grumble, before finally responding to this imperial's incorrect speculation.
"It'd seem that I'm hitting two guars with one spell here," "To learn about the locals and still be comfortable enough to settle down in."
He said while picking at a tooth which had a fish bone lodged into it since his feast at lunch. Eventually tickling it out of his system with some effort.

The bone was moved playfully around his claws while he thought about what these humans would usually talk about. 'The old mary war. Right.'
"So what do you think about that whole argument? are you one to side with them imperials, the stormcloaks or dislike both parties?"
He tried to word the sentence carefully. The subject was sensitive for most people in Tamriel. Even the khajiit would take offense to the wrong phrasing.

[Nauty]

Roymund Inventius, Helas' Folly. Evening

Roymund cast a suspicious glance at the Argonian as he spoke of the war, he felt it appropriate to keep his words short on this subject. "I dont share an opinion on war." He looked to the now mug of Ale, pushing it away slightly to show his lack of interest in the drink. "It's getting late, and i was due to arrive back home several hours ago." he grumbled, getting up from his seat he kept his injured arm across his chest and used his good arm for leverage. He offered a nod of curtesy as he stepped away from the table.

Giving a similar nod to the barman, he stepped past the Dwemer-esqe lady and outside onto the street. "I miss the field" he mumbled in a sad tone. He began walking towards Alguidars farm, the Argonians question still on his mind. "The Legion threw away my loyality the day his discharged me" he thought "But i'm not going to support that Ulfric fellow while he spreads lies of my people. So much for a calming drink before bed.."

[lillian luna]

Alguidar, Valton's Farm, Evening

"Do ya think 'es alright?" Asked Jacqueline as they arrived at the farm. There was no sign of Roymund. Alguidar walked past the broken gate and approached the farmhouse. The door was locked and the key was in the spot they agreed to leave it at.

"He never arrived. Or maybe he left again. I hope he didn't go meet the lizard." Said Alguidar, standing at the door. "Well, he wasn't on the road. If he went back to the inn when we were inside the Orc's house, we wouldn't see him. Sneaky bastard."

Alguidar unlocked the old door and walked in. There was something odd on the table reflecting some of the light from the windows. As he got closer, it's shape became obvious.

"Is that a...? It's a fish!" Said Alguidar as if he had never seen one before. "There's a fish on my table!"

[joeK]

Jacqueline, Valton Farm, Evening.

"So 'es probably still in Valton then." She followed Alguidar inside the house. Just as she dropped her shoulder bag down on her bedroll Alguidar exclaimed the precense of a fish upon his table.

"What?" She looked at the table, and there was the fish. It wasn't alive, of course. Where did it come from? "Oh, do ya think it's from tha lizard?" She asked Alguidar. "Ain't gonna surprise me if e'd bring us fish lined with poison from 'em nasty claws of 'is."

[Kyra]

Titus Aetius, Hela's Foly, Evening

Titus sighed as Danus continued to argue with the Dark elf. As Danus came back to his seat, Titus could see he was furious. The Dunmer has obviously said some things that had gotten to him.
"Don't let him get to you", Titus said to Danus. "He acts like he's all powerful, but house Telvanni has been all but destroyed. He acts like he commands respect and fear, but if he does, why is he here, in a small Hold in Skyrim, and not some place like Wintherhold or the Imperial City? He'll get his throat slit someday because he thinks Telvanni derserves more respect than it actually does. Leave him be, he's not worth getting angry over."
Titus hoped this would calm him down.

[Stefanny Cardona]

Helas' Folly, evening
Leandra

The puzzled expression on the mercenary's face was replaced, in turn, by understanding and disappointment. Telvanni or not, anyone who chose to have a political argument was boring. To her, at least; there were certainly plenty of people who were eager to engage in a debate about the merits of drawbacks of the Empire and what not. Being of obviously Nibenese birth and breeding - the fragments of tattooed signs that could be seen told anyone who knew anything about the traditional Nibenese as much - and possessing an accent that could hardly be mistaken for anything but that of the nobles of heartland Cyrodiil, she tended to get dragged into those sort of talks against her will quite often.

Up here more than ever... Shaking her head slightly, Leandra stepped away from the door and deeper into the inn. Who'd have thought that of all people I encounter, Nords would be the ones dicussing politics most? 'Och, by the beard of me grandfather's grandfather, Insert Painfully Nordic Name Here is the rightful Lengthy Ancient Title!' 'Cliche Derogatory Comment Concerning Ancestry!' 'Accusation Of Betrayal, Potentially Mixed With Implication Of sixual Intercourse With Elves!' 'Obligatory Comment About Beards Or Lack Thereof!'

Sighing and rolling her eyes, she absent-mindedly muttered an order to the barman, paying up front for a bottle of what she recognized as at least a half-decent wine and requesting a full dinner to accompany that. Alto wine, that being the contents of the bottle she'd bought for herself, was quite widespread in Skyrim - and hence, far from anything special. Not a single of its characteristics came close to matching the Skingrad wines she'd grown accustomed to back in Cyrodiil; most notably, its taste was rather bland and for her - too sweet. Its one redeeming quality was its cheapness.

All in all, the perfect wine for someone of my profession.

Smiling absent-mindedly, Leandra navigated to the most comfortable of the inn's shadowy corners that she could see, intending to withdraw there for some quality alone time with her thoughts, her steaming shoulder, a bottle of iffy alcohol and what would hopefully turn out to be a better meal. Even the trail of steam left in her wake seemed somehow more tranquil and less bizarre with intentions such as these.

[Blessed DIVA]

Alguidar, Valton's Farm, Evening

Jacqueline suggested the fish might be a trap.

"What trickery is this?" Yelled out Alguidar before a small pause, as he thought about it in silence. His fingers combing his beard. "A fisherman, he said. He couldn't have gotten in. Roymund was here to accept it. Hopefully he can explain the fish."

Suspicious, Alguidar walked away from it to lit up the fireplace. The fire slowly casting long flickering shadows over the whole place. He stood up again and walked outside as he said: "Not much to do now but wait."

He slowly walked up to the edge of the farm, leaning forward, he grabbed the fence to support his weight. His eyes fixated in the horizon, where the road vanished between the trees.

"I should have returned faster." He thought.