In Ivarstead, a tall, hooded figure stepped through the still of the morning, heading to Vilemyr inn to sleep before returning home to Whiterun. He was on return from a merchant journey to Riften, so he stayed on foot all night and needed to rest. He was astounded that the Dragonborn had been felled in combat merely days after word spread of his arising. Now, all seemed hopeless, all seemed to be set to fall down Alduin's gullet. But not for Thorin Hammerheld: he refused to give up hope that the Dragonborn was the only person who could fell a dragon in battle, and that there was something more that men could do. Only rumors reached him of a gathering of dragon slayers at Vilemyr inn, but the Nord warrior considered it a joke, a scam to make fools out of people, and he would stick to that claim, until tonight...

As he walked inside and sat down, Thorin ordered an ale, some bread, and a goat cheese wedge. As he was eating, he was approached by a male Argonian, who joined him at his table: he was black-skinned, short for his species and had quite an ornate head, like many. As Thorin ate, he twitched his head upon seeing him in utter surprise: [i]Who was he, and where did he come from?[/i], he wondered, but the Argonian revealed his identity fairly quickly.
"Allow me to introduce myself, Nord." he spoke: "My name is Scatha. Scatha Lick-venom."
Thorin then let his guard down and nodded his head. He was familiar with him, since there was word of an alchemist here, even outside the boundaries of this little place. "I know who you are, Argonian." his deep voice replied.
"And your name?" Scatha asked.
"Thorin." the Nord responded: "My name is Thorin Hammerheld of Whiterun."
Just then, a waitress was nearby, and Scatha grabbed her arm and said: "I'll have a beef stew and an Alto wine." Inquisitively, the Argonian continued the conversation with Thorin: "So, what brings a Nord from Whiterun to Ivarstead?"
Thorin took a sip of ale before responding: "I was on the way from Riften, doing business. I managed to sell a couple of dragon scales I uncovered near the western watchtower. I made four hundred septims, and I will gladly pay for your dinner." The waitress then brought over Scatha's order.
As Scatha ate, a very tall Orc with long, brown dreadlocks walked over and sat with Thorin and Scatha. The Nord immediately recognized him as Lugdush, a famous blacksmith from Ivarstead. He offered his hand for a shake: "Lugdush of Orsinium? It is a pleasure to meet one of the finest smiths in all of Skyrim. My name is Thorin Hammerheld."
"Good evening." Lugdush simply replied while shaking the Nord's hand.
Scatha would then continue talking, based on Thorin's mentioning of dragons: "Now, since you spoke of dragons, there's still hope for stopping them. I heard that there's a gathering of dragon slayers, even Blades members on High Hrothgar, in order to form a group called, something like... Dovahfing. Forgive me if I am wrong, but I forgot the word."
"Dragon slayers?" Thorin asked through a whisper, as not to get attention. Hearing that there is a gathering of those who would dare oppose the rule of Alduin, Thorin was positively shocked and even invigorated. He caught his breath and then say: "We must go to High Hrothgar after you have finished your meal! I want to know if what you speak of is true."
"But that was weeks ago, if not months." the Argonian then said.