(You may start anywhere you like! Be it the Odd Jobs shop, somewhere in Whiterun or anywhere in Tamriel~ I plans for a bit of an action-filled night to go ahead.)

"...What a miserable, uneventful evening..." Aria moaned, staring up at the ceiling with a dead expression. Her feet were thrown up on the desk as usual and her arms made a pillow for her head. If not working, this is how things usually looked with the Odd Jobs' young boss. It's where she would always sleep too, leaving the upstairs rooms to anyone who wanted them. No charge, of course. There just wasn't anything to do today... No requests, no opportunities to do anything fun or profitable. The evening was no better. There was always the Bannered Mare to go have a few drinks at, but it didn't feel like a good idea to Aria - she didn't feel as if she'd earned anything.

There had been a lot of interesting talk around Whiterun though. A new Thane had been appointed, one who was apparently some Ancient Nordic legend reborn, the 'Dragonborn'. Many other strange things came with this individual's showing up. Dragons had begun to return after millennia dead, during a civil war in Skyrim and a troubled time for the Empire. So much change for the worst all in such a short space of time...

"I wish someone would just walk through the damn door with a request already~! Anything would do..."

As Aria finished complaining, a stray cat that visited Odd Jobs regularly entered through an open window and hopped up onto Aria's desk. It meowed loudly, as if to demand something from the group. The patchy cat then rubbed up against the redhead's boots, purring heavily before it meowed again.

"A real request...!" Aria murmured, "Ugh, fine. Cronic, can you bring the customer something to snack on?" she asked as she started twiddling her fingers together, making the tabby stray stroll across her legs and onto her chest, where it would roll up in a spiral shape and watch around the main room of the building.

At the time, Cronic was sat upstairs fashioning some leather strips, his sword and his bow leaning against the wall he was sat against. Due to the lack of activity today, he'd gone off mining ores to pass the time in preparation for smithing up a storm at the forge just down the street when Aria called upstairs, breaking his concentration. Not saying a word, Cronic stood up and headed downstairs, spotting the cat immediately, letting out a sigh.

"At this rate we're going to be rationing our own food again..." Cronic said, as he began to prepare a small meal for the cat.

"Can't say I'm looking forward to eating stale bread."

stepping into a inn from the cold a woman in a blood red robe from closed the door behind her, her crimson eyes shined from under the hood as she made her way to whoever was running the bookings and purchased a room tossing down a small bag of coin "I require a hot meal and wood for the fire" she told the inn keeper before walking to the room she was given, it was then that the inn keeper noticed the woman in red was not wearing any shoes walking in the snow and cold barefooted but showed no signs of frostbite or pain.

Zendra took off her robe hanging it on a peg as she watched a serving girl bring in wood for the hearth and lite it for her "thank you child...." zendra tossed her a small coin as the girl walked away clutching it tight, Zendra smirked and walked to the fire basking in the red glow closing her eyes breathing in deep.

Whenever things were slow at Odd Jobs, J'zhid was out and about making his own work. The guards were always wary whenever the Khajiit was about, but he made it a point not to interfere with their work, and even to give them information whenever he could; it helped to alleviate the suspicions they had about J'zhid. Of course they had no proof that he was involved with anything illicit, but they had suspicions nonetheless. His day began with a routine skooma deal just outside of Whiterun. His chameleon fur came in handy for this; if his clients never met the "same" dealer twice, they could offer no information to the guards if they were caught.

However, the deal was only the appetizer for the day. He had some information that would keep his pockets laden with coin for quite some time. An average minor -- his name wasn't even terribly important -- had found one of the largest diamonds that Tamriel had seen in a hundred years. The man's inexperience with wealth was pitiable; one should never boast about such things in a tavern for you never know who might be listening. Last night, J'zhid had watched the man stagger back to his house, and he instantly knew the diamond could be found there. How? Well, why would a peasant demand that the guards keep a tight watch around his house?

Now, most thieves preferred night time for their operations, but J'zhid... well he had a very easy way to hide in plain sight. "If you want a job done right, you mustn't do it yourself! Come to Odd Jobs and have all your troubles taken care of!" He handed out fliers to the passerby as he subtly surveyed surveyed the minor's home. "Skeevers exterminated, valuables recovered, rivals bested! All at one convenient location!" He got permission from the guards to slip some fliers under people's doors; they were sympathetic after he told them about the slow business, and allowed him to approach the houses so long as he caused no trouble. J'zhid had no intention of making his trouble known.

At first the guards were watching him closely, but with all the buzz about dragons and legends that had been going around lately, they quickly became bored with watching a "failed" merchant slip fliers under doors, and their eyes frequently drifted to the skies. It only took one such opening for J'zhid to pick the simple Whiterun lock, and within moments he had slipped inside the minor's house. It was a small house, but even if it was a mansion, it would not have taken very long to find the diamond. "Man's stupidity knows no bounds..." he whispered as he plucked the diamond off of an unsecured cushion right on the minor's night stand, in plain sight. The rumors about the gem had been significantly exaggerated, as they always were but it was a valuable piece nonetheless. Whether the man chose to pay for its recovery, or he sold it himself, it would still fetch a high price.

Recently, there's been a fair bit of noise from White River. Every few evenings or so, farmers report the noise of wolves attacking a woman, or a woman yelling and screaming in agony, but when they move to the source of the noise...there's nothing there. Most have pinned it down to angry spirits of some drowned lady, whose corpse was ravaged by wolves. Farmers tend to do that, see; the commonfolk exaggerate things. The wisened old men with their calloused hands would push back their sweat-soaked greying hair and grunt "There goes th'noise again, get the sheep in Ulred, Jacom grab the horse..." and report it to a guard. The guard would trot off in the direction of the horrific yells, as he usually does, and finds nothing, and has to go back again because that's his job. After a few nights, the guards grew complacent, started rationalizing the issue.

Igfrid shrieked again, raking her nails across her flesh and armour, fumbling with buckles and convulsing with pain. Dark, muddy blonde hair like filthy straw pushes against every pore, her nose pushing outwards, bones cracking and sinew shifting...only to go into reverse again - hair retreating into the skin like a thousand needles, whole skeletal and organ systems clicking into place again, muscles shrinking. Her laboured breathing and heightened hearing parted through the cold night air to hear the chainmail boots clinking as a guard approaches the corner of the river to which she had confined herself to this evening.

A gasp of air forced its way through Igfrid's lungs and she rolled into the river again, her senses dulled, cold shooting through her aching body and soothing the pain somewhat. The cold usually stopped the transformation - no beast likes getting wet. And like every other evening, Igfrid waited until her lungs were fit to burst, her heavy armour pinning her to the silt and the river-weed covering her form like camouflage. Then she'd slowly raise her head out of the water and check for the guard, and yes, there he was down the road over there. Igfrid exhaled loudly, dragging herself onto the bank again and lying there pathetically for a while longer.

Igfrid was no stealthy cat, like a certain person she vaguely recalled. She strolled nonchalantly through the cold night air of Whiterun, through the well-lit street, sopping wet and shivering. "Evenin' Igfrid, that horse again eh?" called out a cheery guard. Igfrid managed to control her chattering teeth enough to give a friendly grin and a wave.

"Aye! Keeps throwing me into the river, see. Better than the ground, though I worry for the currents!" yelled Igfrid back jovially, squelching her way into the Odd Jobs hut. The moment the door shut behind her, Igfrid took off her massive boots and left them by the door, undressing to everything but a baggy and soaking under-shirt and leather britches which squeaked with movement, and were held up by a cord. She noded politely to Aria and made a beeline for the upstairs room where she kept some of her belongings - incredibly small, but Igfrid doesn't complain - and shut the door rather swiftly.

It's curious, though, that ever since the noises started, Igfrid got that new horse and keeps coming back stinking of river water after falling in every time.

Smoke slipped through the edges of the door, one of the upstairs bedrooms of the Odd Jobs building locked up tighter than a priestess of Mara's corset. One might think there was some kind of fire inside, until they noticed the smoke was thin and wispy rather than black and billowing. And then the smell would hit them, something sweet smelling yet with an underlying stink to it. Anyone versed in any sort of illegal trade would recognize it instantly - the smell of skooma, that infamous drug that destroyed families and lives alike, offering just a brief time of elation and ecstasy before harshly ripping one back down to the ground.

Within the confines of the room, a figure sat in one of the corners, ignoring the comforting bed or the cushions of the chair. Her eyes drooped down low, and her legs were draped out across the floor, bare legs feeling quite well against the cool floorboards. Cupped gently in her hands was a pipe, the deadly substance sitting within. The tip was raised and pressed between her lips, and a long puff of the stuff was taken. After a few moments of holding her breath, she released it, a thick cloud snaking out of her mouth and up towards the ceiling. Her supplies were running low, lower than she liked, but at the moment she was as high as the Divines, and couldn't care less.

Unfortunately, the high was fleeting. In under a half hour, her supply had dwindled to just a few more puffs, and her high had come down significantly. A sigh escaped her lips, a few dregs of smoke slipping out of her lips. Seranie quickly dressed, throwing on a set of trousers and an old brown tunic. Slipping out of the room, she waved a hand around to clear the smoke that billowed outwards towards the window she'd left open hours before. A few coughs escaped her as she went down the steps, steams of smoke leaving the corners of her lips as she entered the little area, slipping past Ifgrid as she hurried upstairs to one of the rooms. It was unfortunate for her that that room was still airing out from the previous hour's usage. Seranie snickered as she started searching around for something to scrounge up to eat, muttering something of a greeting towards Aria, giving her a short wave of the hand as acknowledgement to her presence.

It was going to be a long day as she came down. Maybe that Khajiit could find her a bit more to tide her over for the rest of the week.

As the smell of skooma polluted the air of Odd Jobs, so to did another smell as green smoke billowed from the cracks behind a first floor door. Behind the door many unknown items had come across one another to form a unique bond. This was all do to the girl behind the door. Quiet hums could be heard in rhythm from the door as smoke slowly poured out. Its smell was lacking a common ground to understand it. As if many different smells combined into one unknown. Pleasant yet horrid at the same time was the only descriptor of it. This was quite usual during the past few days however. Their own witch had been trying to find a cure for the cold that she would quote as 'tearing her apart'. Her natural remedies had finally worked after four days, but she was not about to give up such an attempt to prevent a further cold.

Those around may have found it funny that their queen of ice had caught a cold, but it only added to the effort she put in to stop the teasing. If you listened closely you could hear mumbling from Dianna as she was serious. This was her eccentric side that diverged from her quiet, wise, but somewhat teasing nature. She wouldn't give in. None the less after a moment a loud shriek could be heard from the room followed by silence. As if something unexpected had happened, which it had of course. Mixing these volatile ingredients was no easy task in the end to create a new potion. In her mind though her alchemist reputation was on the line to make such a potion, but likely no one else cared very much. To make matters worse though she had stayed up the past 24 hours to find this magical cure.

With the accumulation of events Dianna found herself at a loss. Her ingredients were running dry with possible combinations and she almost was going to have to use her emergency fund to replace them all. Staring at her various tools she rubbed her temples and stopped the mumbling mixed with humming she had done. It was time for her to stop acting to odd in her mind as she caught herself doing both at the same time finally. With a spark in her mind she thought of one more idea and tried it. Combining two strong plants and various potions she already had on hand. The end result would likely make others jump as a small explosion rocked from the room.

Those in the main room would see her slam the door to her room open along with clouds of multicolored smoke. Luckily it had ended up with a smell that would not disturb the public. "Curses..." Dianna whispered to herself as she brushed her dress off and made sure her hair had remained in good order. Looking over she saw the cat which Aria had and her head tilted slightly examining it again. Shaking her head quickly after if a thought had occurred and she dismissed it. Tossing up her hands she stated defeat without words before sitting down in a chair and quietly saying. "So many ingredients to buy all over again." Opening a book and her demeanor turning back towards her quieter self. After a sniff she realized she could smell again, so it was a partial success in the explosion. But now her nose smelled skooma.

De'Marco awoke to the glare of the mid-morning sun reflecting off White Gold Tower, shooting needles into the space between his eyes. The taste of vomit and blood lingering in his mouth.

The Redguard could have easily handled the pair of Khajiit at the King and Queen Tavern from the night before when he was a Captain in the Imperial Army, but that was some thirty Winters past. He had grown soft and taken to drink after the war ended. The Empire no longer had any need for him; knowing only fighting and war, civilized society had little use for him as well. Taking to bounty-hunting and the occasional escort contracts he made enough coin to stay alive while he drank himself to death.

"Damn those Khajiit", De'Marco mutters to himself. "They move fast. Too fast."

He was well into his eighth pint of the night when he overheard the Khajiit speak of the return of dragons in Tamriel's northern province, Skyrim.

"HA HA HA! What a load of Troll dung!", he exclaimed to the pair.

The slighter of the two growled his reply, "Dar'Virr is many things, but a Liar he is not."

The last thing De'Marco remembered was a flash of fur as the Khajiit knocked him to the floor.

He arises now in an obscure alley of the Imperial City. Nursing a hangover and still drunk from the night before, the miserable Redguard stumbles out of the alley and into the city streets.

With a victorious grin, J'zhid slipped the diamond, which was about the size of his fist, into one of his many pockets, and then sneaked back out of the door, being sure to leave an Odd Jobs flier behind so that the minor would know exactly who to go to for help. With his prize in his pocket, J'zhid proceeded down the streets with a jolly skip in his step and made had a quick drink at the Bannered Mare before heading back to Odd Jobs. He pushed open the door humming a catchy tune that the bards had been singing lately, "Our hero, our hero, the Dragonborn--" but he was cut of by the truly awful array of smokes -- yes plural -- that had filled his home. His nose wrinkled with disgust as he caught the unmistakable scent of skooma mixed with whatever it was their witch was cooking up. Separate, the two smells were not terrible, but together they created a nauseating combination, like ground beef mixed with taffy.

Even so, such things were to be expected given the colorful cast that worked at Odd Jobs. He saw Aria sitting at the front desk, bored as always, and wondered how that cat could stand the pervasive smells that often filled this place; perhaps it had built up an immunity from all the time it spent here. "If the little thing enjoys it here so much, perhaps it should pay rent," J'zhid teased. "It's not so hard to teach a cat to fetch coins." He gave a hearty chuckle, apparently finding his little joke quite amusing. "But seriously, J'zhid is anticipating a client within the next day or so. If a man comes inquiring about a large diamond, direct him to J'zhid, yes?" He gave Aria a knowing grin. It wasn't the first time he had pulled a stunt like this, and although it was pretty transparent to the members of Odd Jobs what he did when things were slow, he would feign indignity if he was ever accused.

From upstairs, the sound of cloth being flapped in the air shortly followed Dianna and Seranie's exit from the upstairs, along with the click an thud of a window being opened. Diligently, Igfrid had gotten to work on cleaning up for those who left the rooms in such a state - but only, it seemed, to the point of trying to get the smell out. Most people would assume it's just Igfrid being Igfrid - she's always gone that extra two steps to help around the Odd Jobs, mainly in cleaning - but the real reason behind it was the abominable headache she was getting from the fumes. The buzz of her recent trip into the wonders of lycanthropy left her still hearing J'zhid's voice downstairs as clear as day, being able to smell and be slightly repulsed by both stray cats downstairs, and still really fancying raw meat.

Of course, Igfrid would never speak this aloud. It was more likely the folk she's come to call 'alright' who resided in this building would have her sliced up by a silver blade instead of accepting what she was. Not that Igfrid minded, of course. This was her burden.

She gathered her damp hair behind her head into a ponytail, but only on the top - the rest of her hair tumbled beneath it. After a while, she returned into the main room downstairs wearing once more a woolen shirt that was clearly far too big for her, and some warm furry trousers along with small leather shoes made for sneaking. But Igfrid was no sneak, and she always used them as slippers and for wandering around Whiterun, usually between the small Odd Jobs building and Jorrvaskr. "Evenin' kitties", she called out cheerily as she passed J'zhid and the stray cat. She simply nodded to Seranie because Igfrid knew that Seranie was too high to acknowledge her existence, or laugh at any witty comments she might try to put out. In a softer and more polite tone, she also said "Good Evening" to Dianna, since she didn't want to startle her or make her feel forced into conversation. Igfrid's seen the quiet ones, and she understands their boundaries quite well.

Of course, Igfrid was barely settled in the room before she left again! After idly checking over a few of the creates in the main room she just headed out of the door, shutting it quietly behind her. From outside of the window one could see her heading straight for Jorrvaskr again; another habit that's become more apparent ever since her little evening trips to the river. The moment she entered the warm halls of Jorrvaskr, her calm and friendly demeanour melted in the heat as she called out urgently, "Kodlak? Aela?! Anyone still awake; I need a hand!"

She won't be back for a couple of hours.

"A large diamond, huh? ...Yeah, I can imagine we'll need our expert finder-guy for something like that."

Aria simply sat through all the everyday madness going on in the Odd Jobs shop, one hand now gently petting the stray cat. "Well, maybe it's not as boring as I thought..." she smiled cheerfully as the scents of alchemical practice and.. skooma.. filled the building. Her smile fell and her eyes widened as she singled out that one aroma. "Damn it, I told you to open the windows beforeha-AA-..AACHOO!"

The stray was surprised, it got up and raced across Aria's legs onto the desk, sitting there with as much a puzzled look you could get from the scruffy feline. Aria's eyes began to water as her cheeks and nose turned bright red. Of all the things in the world she could be allergic to, skooma had to make her descend into sneezing fits! She swiftly exited the building and stood outside the door holding her gloved hands in front of her face. There was an occasional harsh curse between the high-pitched sneezes, but her anger usually faded pretty quickly.

...Despite not being able to hear herself think, the redheaded half-Akaviri thought she could hear something pierce through the night sky. Not like a howl, no... It didn't belong to anything like a wolf. Not being able to look at the damned sky because of her infernal sneezing was now making her more afraid than miffed. More than once she'd heard travelers and guardsmen tell people to 'watch the skies'. That echoing, piercing sound grew louder, and then went totally silent roughly a mile out from Whiterun. It had the guards on edge, that was very evident. Some began to fix their gaze to the heavens, while others tried backing into a tight space. Commander Caius, however, put on his war face and grabbed a long lance from the guardhouse.

"Miss Odd Jobs, you might want to go inside." The massive Imperial called over from just down the street. Aria waved her hand dismissively, but truly felt like ditching and returning to the safety of indoors.

Stepping outside after a few minutes, mainly just to get out of the stink, upon having served the stray cat some food, Cronic looked at Aria, then to the guards.

"The guards are on edge. That's not a good sign. They expecting an attack or something?" Cronic thought to himself, folding his arms. Cronic personally was never one to openly voice his thoughts, but the fact the guards were on edge was making him a little concerned.

"Either way, it'd probably be a good move to double-check my gear, just in case." Cronic said, going back into the house and heading upstairs, grabbing hold of his sword and removing it from the sheath, checking over the blade before taking out a small stone and running it across the blade's edges, sharpening the blade.

"Last thing I need is a blunt sword in the middle of a battle."

When Igfrid said hello to Dianna she would be able to get a response of Dianna looking up from the pages in front of her and giving Igfrid a smile in response. Saying nothing though, but getting the smile was the hello people came to expect of her. Dianna then watched the seen with her boss unfold. First the sneezing followed by the running off to the outdoors. In response she closed her book and got up swiftly. Quickly disappearing into her now aired out room once again.. Finding the mess after the explosion cleaned up by her DIanna blushed to herself. It was embarrassing to leave her room in such a state for it only to be cleaned by someone else. Sighing after a moment she thought about how she would return the favor as she disliked taking gifts without giving one back later. Even if she didn't talk to most of the people outright.

Getting back on task Dianna grabbed what she had originally came for in the room. Which was a small clear bottle with pink liquid in it. Opening the cap she sniffed it carefully before determining it was still potent and hadn't spoiled. Smirking to herself she picked up her staff of magelight and watched it glow for a moment. The warm light lit up her dark room before she tapped it once on the ground and sunk the room into the moonlit room from the window. Hearing the call out because of the window though made her pause. It was unlike anything she heard as of recent. This made her giggle to herself slightly. New was good, new was refreshing, new meant knowledge. Like a mad scientist she daydreamed for a moment of the possibilities. Collecting herself she remembered why she had even entered her room.

Leaving her room she walked across the main lobby and out the front door. Silently arriving next to Aria with her magelight staff coming into being the moment she was shoulder to shoulder with her. Dianna's blue dress/robe sparkled from it's white lightly softly. Lifting up her hand she held the small vial of the pink potion. The only words she spoke were kind and stated. "For your allergies M'lady." Quite the devotion to Aria was evident for someone who helped her find her feet with a job. If Aria drank the liquid she would likely find her symptoms extremely lightened. Her dedicated alchemist had come up with a concoction after she saw her boss suffer before.

J'zhid kept his belongings in a steel chest under the stairs. The side of the chest had a plaque on it that read: "J'zhid's. Touch at your own risk." The chest was chained to the ground at all four corners, and the front had not one, but eight locks. The locking mechanism was one of the most complex in all of Tamriel; there was no key -- J'zhid had insisted on that -- but rather the eight locks needed to be picked in the proper order. The locks were difficult enough to pick on their own, but if a talented thief did not know the order, a plume of stinging pepper powder would blind him and a spray of ink would mark him as a bandit. Picking the locks in the correct pattern would open the chest, but would also cause the pattern to rotate counter-clockwise, so that it was different every time.

Upon opening his chest, some simple clothes, cloaks, basic supplies, and a few trinkets of moderate worth were revealed. But, of course, the chest had a false bottom. This mechanism was triggered by a pressure plate. To open it, J'zhid removed all of belongings, put them to the side, and began to close the lid. When the chest was 90% closed, there was a click indicating that the false bottom had been sprung. He opened the chest, and the bottom of the chest, and revealed where his true wealth was hidden. He added his gold from the skooma deal to the already hefty pile, and placed the giant diamond beside his stash of truly valuable jewelry. Then with a satisfied nod, he locked it all back up again, almost daring someone to try and take it.

With that, he decided he would call it a night, maybe snack on a honey nut treat, but then there was a shrill howl the likes of which he had never heard before. "Well now, what could all this be about?" He peaked his head outside and saw that the guards were starting to scramble. "A fight?" J'zhid grinned. If there was about to be a battle, then that would mean some free loot. After all, dead men told no tales. He crept out onto the streets a few feet away from his sneezing guild master and waited to see what was about to transpire.

"Oh, what would I do without the resident alchemist..." Aria felt like hugging Dianna as she took the small vial of pink liquid. Didn't matter how it tasted, the sneezing had to stop! What if something terrible happened, like a bandit raid or a dragon attack? The red-haired young lady pressed her nostrils together and hastily drank the potion before handing the little glass bottle back to Dianna. Sure enough, within but a few moments the swelling around her nose had completely disappeared. And now that there was no danger of sneezing over the alchemist, Aria gave her a short hug. "Thank you~ ...Now, where was I. Oh yes," Turning her eyes upward, Aria noticed the stars seeming to turn black as the night sky in a steady stream of movement, but they became bright again afterwards. That something that caused the disruption was huge.

"There it is...! Did you see it?!" A Whiterun Guard called over to Commander Caius in a hushed tone. "Like I said, all of you with the Odd Jobs should get back indoors - and now." Caius said, boldly as ever even with the threat of what lurked above the city.

Aria fixated her gaze on the figure as it flew South. She jolted in surprise as a roar bursted through the air, flames being spread en masse over to the Western Watchtower that had only just started repairs. Another roar opened up around Riverwood's direction, the flames spreading through the ancient Nordic forest surrounding it. And finally, a newly constructed guard post in the South began to freeze, the icy stream of death lighting up the treeline.

"Damn it! Three... Three of them! Sorjal, get Irileth and tell her we need half the guard force on station here in Whiterun as garrison, ready to fight! Tell her I'm headed West, and we'll get the Companions to fight at the Southern outpost! The forest near Riverwood will just have to wait until we're finished... Move it!" Commander Caius barked as a large amount of guards dressed up in their traditional yellow-coated chainmail ran out of the barracks. They were going to fight a Dragon... A Dragon! Surely enough the Companions would be able to take on their Dragon, those people wouldn't turn down the opportunity to battle with such a beast.

...But Riverwood was unprotected, with only a small force of guardsmen to save the people there. They barely had enough men to fight against a Vampire attack, let alone a damned Dragon. As Caius and his men rushed off, and Housecarl Irileth rudely awoke the Companions, Aria started giving her comrades a challenging expression. This night, innocent blood would be spilled unless somebody gave priority to Riverwood's defence.

"What do you guys say? Sit this out, or go see what Dragons are made of...?" Aria asked, her usually calm tone having turned a little rougher. Her bored expession had become 'game-on'. While the Odd Jobs might not seem like a bunch suited to fighting impossible battles, Aria and Cronic themselves have been known to beat unbeatable odds during the earliest days of the business' existence. "I imagine the reward for slaying a dragon is a.. hefty amount," she added, making sure to get the word 'profitable' in.

"Not quite what I was expecting, but we'd better move quickly if we want to get there in time." Cronic said, his sword in a sheath, strapped to his waist, and his gigantic bow strapped to his back. Cronic and Aria may have been known to beat unbeatable odds, sure, but not without a few cuts or scratches to remember the encounters by. And if his sense of dread was anything to go by, some of them would be walking out of this with some pretty bad burns.

"Well, if it puts food on the table, I'm all for it." Cronic said, knowing that if they sat this one out, the people of Riverwood would be a pile of unrecognisable, charred corpses before the night was over.

Irileth was seen rushing up to Jorrvaskr, and after around 10 or so minutes of discussion a group of ragged, yet fierce, warriors charged out of the building, all of them wearing frightening facial markings painted on hastily in blood-lust. They all wore their own armour after getting changed so quickly, some of them clipping weapons to their belts as they ran, or fastening buckles. Bringing up the rear was the short, stocky figure that the Odd Jobs knew, in a dark greed mottled riding cloak which seemed to shroud Igfrid's features rather well. She wore her iron armour underneath it, spattered with old blood and stains that wouldn't come out in the wash. She also wielded a large, heavy-looking axe with non-magical runes scratched into the surface for decoration, or perhaps otherwise.

As she ran past, the hood fell back to reveal her long mane of white-gold hair, her striking golden eyes staring right at Aria and Cronic from behind a smear of green that reached down her left eye. In the brief moment they had eye-contact, it was clear that Igfrid was thinking of Riverwood as well; but she had her orders and the Southern Outpost awaited. The only thing she managed to mouth was "Help them" before she had to follow the Companions out of the gates, and into the night.

Once the Companions had gotten there, the sight that met their eyes was no less horrific than Igfrid had imagined. The tower was blossomed with ice, where a great, hulking beast - probably 5 men across, and a wingspan as long as two giants - was malevolently freezing the base with a chill that caused Igfrid to shudder. The thick crystals of frozen water were forcing the guards to the top of the tower, where it was certain that the dragon planned to eat them.

Only five words broke the spell that the horror had upon the companions - a male's voice, newer than Igfrid to the Circle - "Do we change or not?" Stares of disbelief were thrown through the dark and beat down the man's question right away. Igfrid didn't even know who he was, and whilst a part of her - and she knew exactly what sat in that part - wanted to agree with him, a larger part of Igfrid told her patiently that Whiterun was literally just up the road. Going wolf here meant death, either if she won or not. But the wolf in her was salivating at the thought of dragonflesh - something which Igfrid promised the beast, just to keep it at bay for a while longer.

An arrow was shot out of the inky blue and stuck into the wing of the dragon - the pale grey dragon, with the spines as long as Igfrid's arm and darker than the night itself. The dragon with frost covering and reinforcing each thick scale, claws as sharp as snapped icicles and two small, white eyes shot in the direction of the Companions and their hiding place. Igfrid didn't have to look far to know where the arrow came from as Aela the Huntress tightened her bowstring a bit more. "What?" she grunted, and unlike the new boy she managed to beat back the glares. "You were going to wait for her to finish off eating them?" she added. Igfrid looked more closely - it was a she, a she who had an arrow stuck out of her leathery wing. It wouldn't ground her - no, to do that you needed to rip the wing apart - but nevertheless the dragon stopped playing with her food and thundered over to something which had the gall to attack her.

"COMPANIONS!" roared Vilkas. "ATTACK!"

As the workers at Odd Jobs slowly trickled outside, Seranie was busy grabbing up foodstuffs and carting them off to the cooking pot. A wheel of elder cheese, a few bottles of ale, her own little stock of moon sugar, along with some beef and bread. In a few moments, the wheel was cut up into the pot and dripping with ale while a fire roared beneath. The meat was cooking on a separate fire, while the bread laid to the side. The mage's stomach growled, and she frowned. Elsweyr Fondue took a while to cook, but she knew if she even attempted to snack on something else she'd gorge herself until she was full. However, with the addition of the meat and bread into the fondue, and her special little way of cooking it, it would be more soupy and would fill her up nicely.

The sound of a roar pierced the air, causing Seranie to snap out of her little daydreams of food. She stood, leaving the food to cook on its own, and hurried out the front door as best she could, lightheadedness causing her to stumble until she hit the door with her cheek. Her hand clamped around the knob, and she pulled it open, stepping out into the cool night air. She arrived to that Whiterun guard, Caius, barking orders to his men. She winced, raising her hands to cover her ears until he was gone. A little sigh escaped her and she let her hands drop to her sides, and was about to head back in when she heard Aria mention dragons. Her hand gripped the knob of the door tightly as she sighed, slowly turning her head to look back over her shoulder at their boss.

She had one of her rare serious looks on her face. Her eyes stared out, half lidded, the dark rings beneath only furthering the lack of amusement on her face. "We shouldn't take something like a dragon lightly, boss," she said, turning to lean back on the door, arms crossed over her chest. Then, a wicked smirk crossed over her face. "But, I won't object to putting a beast down in its place." She heaved herself off of the door, and held her hand by her side. A tiny, purple-black portal appeared in her palm, and in a moment it elongated. After about a second, it dispersed, and in her hand was the Sanguine Rose.

She pointed her staff towards the ground before her, and a portal appeared between herself and the rest of Odd Jobs. When it dissipated, a pair of armored daedra appeared, their feet clawed and bat-like, with massive wings instead of arms. Their skin was white as snow, and their dark hair was tied back. Seranie gave a few orders in their language, and in a moment they were off, soaring towards Riverwood. She smiled, pulled her flask from her hip, and popped the cork off of it. "Those two will provide a distraction for it while we're on the way," she explained, then took a drink. Then she quickly looked back up into the sky. "Unless the guard shoots them down. But they should distract the dragon for a few minutes." She smiled at the group, taking another sip.

J'zhid stroked his fuzzy chin as he pondered the prospect of challenging a dragon. It was true that somebody needed to protect civilization from such destructive beasts, but J'zhid was not that somebody. He was a seeker of fortune, not of glory, and he had long since abandoned the concept of honor, especially among thieves. Even the prospect of a reward for slaying a dragon failed to motivate him. Yes, a reward would be substantial, but it would be split among all parties, minus the cost of supplies and maintenance, minus the cost of healing any injuries, minus the profit of lost business for recovering from said injuries... the reward did not warrant the risk. Still, if everybody else was going, it would not do much for his reputation to be the sole member of Odd Jobs heeding the guards' advice. Perhaps there was a way to make it work.

"J'zhid is not so good at fighting dragons," he said at last, "but he will come along and offer what help he can nonetheless. You all keep the reward from fighting the dragon; the scales and the bones, those go to J'zhid. This is agreeable yes?" Indeed the return of the dragons had sparked the interest of many blacksmiths. Rumor had it the the bones of dragons could yield sturdier armor and sharper blades than even ebony tempered by the elusive Daedra hearts could. Relinquishing his reward was a fair price to pay for safety, and with the right buyer, the bones he would scavenge would fetch just as much gold as the Jarl was offering.

As the soldiers bolted down the streets to make their way towards their respective fights the girl in the blue dress simply watched. As Aria hugged Dianna she received a short pat on the back in response and a smile as Dianna's "Your Welcome." Wordlessly the girl listened to her boss before bringing her attention to Igfrid before mentioning it to Aria in-case she hadn't noticed. "Igfrid is with the guards unable to come to our side," she said calmly under the light of her staff as the wind sent ripples through her shining dress. Silently she set the potion away in a small bag she had carried with her over her shoulder. A bag that contained a few potions in case of injury of necessity. However, Dianna didn't quite feel as if they would need the potions. No, rather she believed the townsfolk would need the potions in the end. The members at odd jobs could easily be healing in battle with her own hands if disaster were to strike.

With the chaos around the Dianna seemed rather out of place while the others discussed strategy. Her own mind was set on protecting Aria and those around her, as she still owed Aria for a warm place to sleep. Even if she had never discussed why she was a traveling wizard before meeting the Jarl of Whiterun. With the daedra summoned Dianna got the idea to quickly run in the house and back out, a second staff on her back. Touching her necklace with one hand that held the Azura's Star she thought how a dragon's soul may be of great value. While the Daedra ran off Dianna then turned to Seranai and smiled lightly in approval. Every minute was valuable after all. In minutes a town can be reduced to rubble by fire and a dragon's breath is thought to be the hottest flame in some legends. Finally she looked to Aria's mention of profit and stated. "It could bring a better name and more business to Odd Jobs if we slay one as well."