Valerion Draviis Valerion waited and watched intently, the female mer, now that Valerion thought, had a very strange aura. It was older than even his! But it was scarred, a deep rift cutting through it, and it shone in a colour much akin to a crystalline, clear, turquoise ice. Valerion pondered and stewed a few thoughts whilst the others were speaking. "She couldn't be a snow elf, could she?" Valerion peered a bit more at the mer, and started racking his brain and memories for any sort of inclination that could assist him. It was then that Valerions eyes widened, and pupils dilated, he had found that little slither of a past expedition that could possibly confirm everyone's suspicions, as Dreet-Na had just piped up, being the scholar he is that she was indeed a Snow elf. "I can only agree with our scaled friend" Valerion said, a small smile splitting across his face, although obscured by his helmet. "About 3 centuries ago I heard a rumour, from an old wizened elf that in the ancient Alyeid city there was a group of these creatures called 'Falmer' hiding there in the day, and in the night? They were spreading out, killing both beast and man. Even children. Only blood remained and no sign of a body. Things such as these interested me, as I have lived a very long time. And not once have I ever heard a mention of these creatures." Checking to make sure he had everyone's undivided attention, he shifted his position on the rock and leaning on his right knee, continued. "So." "I decided I would investigate these rumours, and see if there was truth behind them. I traveled the following day up into the Jerall mountains, into an ancient ruin of the Ayleids, called Rielle." "My first sight of the place was a bit dreary, I recall. I have been to Nenalata and Wendelbek, cities of immense size, both in and out. And yet this place was nought but a few crumbling white columns and a door, splattered with blood. A perfect place for those who did not wish to be found, as one could walk past it in even a light snowfall and not notice the white stone, a perfect place for those who wished to kill and not be seen in the process." Valerion gazed over to the elf, who was in her binds and then re-shifted his attention onto the group. "I made my way into the ruin with trouble. All of the traps had been triggered, but. Had been reset, more than enough proof that someone was definitely in there. The place was resonating a powerful cold energy, and the first floor was completely deserted, all that was, was trails of blood, the floor once an immaculate white. Now a tarnished brown and black, with layers of fresh blood over the old. It was the second floor however, when I first met a Falmer. Twisted creatures, one of the worst sights I have ever seen. Their skin was a stony lethargic grey, eyes nothing but a soft pink skin and they were in a permanent crouching state, I don't think they could stand straight even if they tried. Even though they were blind, they had the hearing of a predator. They probably heard me enter the ruin through the stone. They attacked with ferocious speed and strength for their small frame. They truly did not need their eyes but if they had them no doubt I would have had a tough fight on my hands." I killed about 20 of them before I reached the end of the ruin... The sight I received was a strange one... Where a wall should have been there was none, but a long tunnel penetrating deep into the mountain. The nine only know how long it would have took to do that. Before I was attacked by the final horde of Falmer, I seen a tall elf, towering over the creatures that were trying to protect it, or I can only assume that's what they were doing. It's skin a shockingly pale white, the hair matching it. And it was adorned in a very strange armour, of the like I have never seen. In the end, I never caught that elf, the tunnel that had been made had been forcibly collapsed. But in the elfs haste, it left behind a tome, and once it had been deciphered; at a considerable cost I might add. It detailed information about snow elves, and falmer. So in short girl, you are exactly what you appear to be. An elf with skin of snow; A snow elf." Valerion stood up from his perch and walked a few steps closer to her. "And not the last of your kind... for now. Speaking of which, I too agree with Dreet-na, once again. She need not fear us, nor we her. If she tries anything again, however. I'll gladly kill her." Valerion walked away from the elf and went over to the roaring fire, and awaited his portion of the elk. He had no doubt the Rawlith would make a fine meal out of this beast.

Niko felt an all-too familiar pang by his heart at the dark look the woman had shot him. He himself, was not racist. Never in his life had he discriminated someone for something they could not control – whether it be upbringing, race, or gender. But he was used to receiving glares, insults, or even violence because he was a Nord. Living in Cyrodiil as a Nord, both he and his Father had been looked down upon by many other races. Certain Imperials thought them as idiotic dogs and Thalmor passing through wouldn’t hesitate to check their home for Talos worship. Not that they ever found anything – their family hid their worship well enough. But never had Niko branded an entire race over something a certain group of them did; neither did Leo, but that was honestly because he never thought too much on the subject. Even when moving to Skyrim, Leo had been mistrusted by plenty of Nords – but he never noticed, too immersed in his work. On top of this discomfort, Niko felt almost saddened by this woman’s reaction. A Snow Elf – and he knew she was a Snow Elf; he wasn’t fooled – who was most likely thousands of years old, still had discrimination in her mind. He was aware of the history of the Falmer; thanks to his years of study of the Dwemer, the Falmer had fallen into his books and whatnot with ease – so he knew of the atrocities that her race had endured. Most of them from the Man races; most of them from the Nords. But the fact that someone with so much age and experience could still distrust – or perhaps even hate – someone for their race was saddening. Rather than mentioning this, he instead hooked the Falmer dagger (He had seen similar designs in weapons found in Dwemer ruins he had sought out prior to now – she was most definitely a Snow Elf, in his opinion) onto his own belt, and looked back at her own belt. On it were various pouches, one of which was obviously a book of some sort, wrapped in hide and suspended from her belt. He didn’t touch it – a book couldn’t cause much damage, and he had no interest of taking it from her. It obviously had some emotional or monetary wealth if she had it with her. Listening to what both Dreet-Na and Valerion had said, Niko was silent for a moment, mulling it over. He had her daggers, Valerion her bow. She could use magic, but what would she gain by attacking them now? Taking his own dagger in hand – his emergency one tucked in his boot – he cut the woman’s bonds at both ankle and wrist, gathering up the rope and looking back into her blue eyes. If she planned on sticking around – which he hoped she would – he would like to prove that he wasn’t one of these ‘racist Nords’ she feared so much. “We’ll return your weapons to you in the morning – you’re free to sleep by the fire with us, and leave after that.” He said, still crouching on the balls of his feet and was just about eye-level with her. She looked to be just shorter than himself, by a good few inches. She certainly had the height of an Altmer, that was certain. “And we’ve got more than enough food for tonight, if you’re hungry...” He paused, realizing he hadn’t even asked her name. He couldn’t help but smile as a thought drifted back into his mind as his parents talked to him about various manners – and somehow, his Mother had worked the possibilities of courting into the conversation as well - from back in his youth. “First thing! If you meet someone – especially a girl – ask them their name. And remember it. There’s nothing more embarrassing than forgetting someone’s name.” “Ah, excuse me. What was your name?” He added politely, still smiling. ------------------------------- Roze had listened in curiously alongside Ildrun, her smile peaking as she overheard something most interesting. “Huh... that’s why.” She murmured, glancing at Ildrun. “She’s a Snow Elf!” ”A Snow Elf?! Leo spoke up suddenly and loudly, earning a swift slap on the leg from Roze and a ‘shush!’. From what she had heard, Roze doubted that this new girl wanted her existence getting out. Nor did she want some Imperial idiot fawning over her and asking endless questions about her people. “She must be really lonely.” Rozalia muttered, and then stood up as the smell of cooked meat wafted over her. “Hopefully she stays. Anyway, I’ll bring some food over. Leo, how about you speak to Ildrun without flirting?” She suggested brightly, before walking over to Rawlith, standing close and tapping him on his arm. “Nice job on stopping an early execution.” She murmured with a grin, glancing at Valerion, who was still glaring – or she assumed he was glaring; the guy hardly ever took that helmet of his off – at their captive. She then turned her gaze to the spit over the fire, where the ribs were cooking. Mmm. Ribs. Now, living on the streets, you took what you could get when it came to food, but ribs remained to be her number one preference. She recalled a memory of some ribs she had tried in Imperial City at 17 years old. She had just arrived a few weeks beforehand, and had just come into contact with the Thieves Guild. Although aware she wasn’t joining, the Guild had invited her to take a meal with them. Pork Ribs, slathered in the most beautiful sauce she had ever tasted, had been the main dish. Fair to say, she had gnawed on them like a wolf in the wilds, all while managing to mutter a swift ‘thank-you’ to the Redguard chef that had cooked them. She’d never had food like that afterwards (It had been a rare feast, even by the Guild’s standards), but any ribs she tried now reminded her of that, and brought back sweet memories. “They smell amazing, Rawlith.” She said as she inhaled deeply, mouth already watering. They’d had slim pickings in their journey so far. Mostly just dried meats, stale bread, and lumps of cheese, they’d encountered only two rabbits that had made a fairly weak stew. Rozalia was used to feeling hungry, so it hadn’t bothered her so much – however, the people from more sheltered backgrounds than hers (That was, most people in the group), had complained extensively and loudly about their grumbling stomachs. ---------------------------------------- Leo sighed at Rozalia’s sly comment, but he turned his eyes to Ildrun anyway. Things were still looking somewhat blurry, but her dark-orange hair stood out, as did the shape of her face and body, and her vivid green eyes. Even his currently impaired vision, he could tell she was pretty. And quite short for a Nord too. “Sorry about the seemingly callous comment before.” He said with a more natural grin, sitting up with a wince. The Snow-Elf had certainly put him down on his ass. “So, Ildrun. What made you want to join the suicide squad? It’s not fair game killing dragons, I would guess.”

Val once again tried to land in an opening he found in the fog, but before he could, the fog closed over it. That was the forth time it had happened, and he got the message. When the effects of the levitation was almost over, he Recalled himself to the library, and saw Arngier sitting at a table, reading a scroll. "So, I take it you learned that what I told you is true?" "Yes," said Val, "Every time I tried to land, the fog closed over my landing spot. Your master doesn't wish to see me, and has made that quite clear. If you don't mind, I'll go back to studying your scrolls now." Arngier got up and handed Val the scroll the old man was reading. "You may find this one interesting. It's about Jergan Windcaller, and the founding of the order." Val nodded, took the scroll, and sat down, opening the scroll to read it. --- Several days later Val walked to Argier and told him that he was leaving. "I had hoped to learn of a bridge between the magic I know and the magic of the Voice, but the closest I found was about Amulets of Talos decreasing the necessary wait time between shouts. My only hope of finding a way to fight the dragons seems to lie with the group you sent out to fight them. So, I'm leaving for now. Hopefully the few words I learned in the dragon's tongue will come in handy." "You are welcome to rejoin us whenever you wish. Who knows, maybe one day you will be ready to learn the Way of the Voice?" "Maybe," he said, and nodded. Without further goodbyes he Recalled to the town below. Seeing a horse tied outside the Inn, he went inside and asked the Inn keeper who owned it. He then went up to the owner and made him an offer. "I'll give you a thousand septims for that horse." he said, not wanting to bother with negotiations. "But it's just an old work horse. You could get a good riding horse in any city for that much." "Or you could get a good riding horse. I need one immediately, and don't have time to travel to a city to get one." The man though for a little while, then nodded, "You've got yourself a deal, friend." he said, putting out his hand to shake on the deal. Not wanting to make a scene or break the deal, Val quickly returned the gesture and paid the man. He immediately went outside and hopped onto his new horse. Hopefully he could get to Kynesgrove by the time the others did, or meet them on the way.

Taking a sip of ale from his mug, Thorin kept looking around for possible potential members of Dovahfeyn. So far, he had no reason to be suspicious of Lugdush and Scatha, and he had no choice but to trust them as of yet. Scatha had an enjoyable personality and seemed to like talking, whereas Lugdush seemed to be calm and silent for the most part. As for the ale he was drinking, it was one of the finest ales he had in quite a while. He was relieved now that Scatha and Lugdush actually decided to meet him in Whiterun so that they can travel together. However, Scatha had one small add-on to the idea. Hence, he asked Thorin: "Thorin? Wouldn't it be easier if we all traveled to Whiterun together?"
Thorin leaned over in response: "Does that conform to your work duties?"
"Of course!" Scatha waved his hand aside: "I can close my store at any time I want. It is not something to worry about, honestly."
"What of you, Lugdush?" Thorin asked, looking at the Orc.
"Well..." Lugdush started responding: "I have one shipment of weapons to a warrior, but I will deliver them soon. It will depend on the length of your stay, because I assume you came with intentions to sleep."
"Yes, I have." Thorin said. He then felt a need to share with Scatha and Lugdush what he encountered in Riften: "I've met with a merchant named Brynjolf in the markets in Riften. A fun man, but I cannot comprehend what he sells to the people. Falmer blood elixir..." he laughed mockingly.
"Hold on." Scatha said to him: "There is one thing I know about Brynjolf and you don't, Nord: he is part of a little undercover organization in Riften."
"You speak of the Thieves Guild?" Thorin asked through a whisper, in slight shock. He did not want to speak the name out loud, in front of all the people in Ivarstead, as he may jeopardize his own well-being that way.
"Aye. Brynjolf was friends with my father. He took care of me when my father was arrested, so that I would have enough skill to survive in the world. I only got acquainted with alchemy some years after that, and I learned some things that only the Thieves Guild knows." Scatha replied, but just then, he saw someone enter the inn, and someone peculiar among regular folk that pass through Ivarstead: it was a Bosmer woman. Immediately, she caught the Argonian's eyes, as he thought that an elf wouldn't come to Ivarstead without a very good reason. He had a slight whim that she was curious about the dragon slayers as well, and he nudged both the Nord and the Orc: "The Wood Elf."
Both turned their heads to her, and looked on, but well enough so that they aren't noticed immediately by her.
"What of her?" Thorin whispered.
"She might be here for the dragon slayers as well." Scatha replied through a whisper.
"How?" Thorin asked dubiously.
"A Wood Elf would not come here without a very good reason." Lugdush responded.

Ildrun looked at Leo and tilted her head slightly, wondering if the callous comment was supposed to be the one about how the company needed more girls, and she shrugged, "Well, I joined because I finally decided my parents were not going to stop me from leaving home, and because I wanted to help out against the dragons." she looked up into the sky, "I would not stand idly by as dragons come to enslave this world." she looked back to Leo and smiled grimly, "Even if I fall fighting them they will taste my steel."

The Argonian did not seem pleased with Faire's answer, much to her own delight. It probably wasn't enough to convince any of her captors, though. The armored brute, Valerion is what the Argonian called it, told a tale about witnessing a Snow Elf. He provided great detail in his story and it sounded logical and possible... but what would her kin being doing with the Betrayed? Was her kin making progress to cure those cave dwellers? Obviously some progress was made as he had managed to manipulate the Betrayed into a sort of body guard. Could this be the lead she had been hoping for? Maybe capture was Auri-El's Will, added with a bit of Sai's luck. Whatever the case, she would have to gather more information from that Valerion. As Valerion approached even closer, the words he spoke stuck with her "And not the last of your kind... for now." For the first time in a long time, Faire could feel a little warmth inside herself as hope kindled very lightly in her heart. Turning back to the Nord, Niko, she watched him cut her bonds and gave her the terms of her capture. She could be free by tomorrow if she wanted... But that isn't what she wanted. Not yet. Not until she knows where she could track down her kin and possibly exchanging a favor for a favor, she could get it. After all, why would Valerion care to keep that a secret from her. Faire had arisen to her feet and taking her belt back from the Nord. His offer of food was encouraging as the smell of sizzling elk had finally reached her nose. She hadn't had game like that in awhile. Faire continued taking a glance around the camp and shot a glare to the man who squealed about a Snow Elf being in present company. The man she had blinded earlier, she was sorry about that but she wasn't about to clue him in. Her attention turned back to Niko, the Nord. She was glad that he was at least appearing to be pleasant, but she dared not lower her guard. And she didn't answer him immediately as he wondered what her name was. Instead she brought her gaze up to the stars and stood there for a moment, remembering the last time she said her name. It was a long, long time ago, so much so, that she had written in her book several times just to remind herself. "Faire Agarwen." She said plainly, her gaze never leaving the stars. She didn't say anything else and instead turned and walked away. If yesterday she had said, I'd be introducing myself to a Nord tomorrow, she would have claimed to be mad and ran a sword through her gut. But this...this felt.. strangely alright. She hadn't communicated with a living being in months and not to this extent, either. For once, loneliness wasn't on her mind. Faire Agarwen paced about the camp a bit. Conversation in the camp seemed to be leaning towards talk about dragons. It seems the people here were serious about that, and many thought they weren't going to fair well against one. Lucky for them, Faire could handle big game such as dragons. Her favor... for their favor. The thought of the hunt began filling her mind as she finally settled down next to the fire. She sat with her arms crossed as the blinded man and some Nordish woman conversed. Preoccupied with her thoughts, she laid on her back and closed her eyes for a bit. At least long enough for captors to present her with food.

Evos Ash-Bringer Evos had left the shrine of his queen upon receiving his quest immediately, and with utmost haste. As he entered the 5th mile of his journey however, the clear night sky ceased, and a thick snowstorm battered against Evos' body, visibility was reduced to a few feet and the pains in his old joints resurfaced with a fury. "My legs will refuse to accept my will if I do not warm my bones" With that, Evos found a sheltered alcove within the rocks and started a meager fire from whatever he could find in the local vicinity. The weather had a bad effect on Evos' body, but his mind suffered too. Thankfully however, his past stayed buried and he remembered the day that he found his lance; Light Bringer. 4th era, 187, 1st of Suns Height Evos stood infront of the ancient ayleid city called Nenalata, it was a spectacle to behold, the resting place of the last king of the ayleids. When Azura had told him of this place, she directed him to the very place, which was just east Bravil. Unfortunately for Evos, this was quite the treck, and coming down from the Valus mountains in order to get there no less would take him a few weeks, however, Azura sensed his dismay, the words she gave him were far from comforting, but they gave him resolve. "Your past is tainted, and with it your soul, Evos. The hardships you face in order to see a new dawn shall all be worth it." Evos used these words of wisdom and made it to the ancient city in little less than 2 and a half weeks. It was a hard and daunting journey, filled with various bouts of the lethal wildlife the mountains contain, Land Dreughs especially are common in these parts. Now Evos looked across the river and stared at the ancient city that was called Nenalata, the resting place of the last king of the Ayleids. Evos quickly waded the river, the water was very cool, and shallow. A drought was permeating much of country at the minute, the people were praying for an end to it but Evos liked it, reminded of his home, where it was permanently a sweltering heat and Dunmer had a natural resistance to the heat, which always helped. Evos' Chitin armour was quickly dried once he got out in front of the ruins entrance and it didn't stick to their skin so now that Evos was cooled off a bit he entered the ruin, with his spirits high, for the first time in what seems to be months. The ruin was incredible, but it was eerie. It was hard to think that this used to be a the center of one of the greatest mer kingdoms. However, the strangest thing baout this ruin is that it was seemingly empty, Evos looked around and found nought in terms of an occupant. Not waiting for any to appear he swiftly made his way to the lowest floor of the city, into the chamber of the King. A room that was previously locked to all according to Azura. But one of her former champions had opened it about 1 and a half centuries ago, it wasn't at her bequest, however. Nenalata Sel Aran Arpena, that was the name of the final room. Evos pushed open the heavy stone door, that was inlaid with shimmering blue crystals. And took a step into a room in which only a handfull of people have ever set foot in, it was odd, the place was speckless and was as silent as the grave. The air just seemed to absorb and cushion any sound. Evos could scream and he doubted the noise would stay in the air long before it was swallowed. The air was heavy as well, it seemed to loom down upon Evos, threatening to crush him. This was evidently the effect that this room had when they spoke to the king of the ayleids. Evos could not place whether or not it was magic, or just the effect this room had because of what it was. Evos wlaked down the stone steps towards the throne, upon it. A skeleton, with a crown wrapped around its skull. Finely dressed; but it wasn't an ayleid, it appeared, from the clothing Evos assumed to be quite a recent addition to the throne room. Evos paid little mind to the crown, as he assumed that that was likely the reason the man had died, Ayleid magic is odd, and has serious consequences to those who were unprepared. Evos grabbed the skeleton by its finery and pulled it off the throne, its old bones shattering on the hard ground, the noise barely permeating through the air it just rang hollowly through the walls. Azura had given him a one time use spell, and he was to use it on the throne in order to collect his prize. Stepping back and shielding his face Evos unleashed a ball of light at the high throne, the right side of it exploded into a thousand pieces sending hard white stone showering across the throne room. Bits of it bounced off Evos' body, but no damage was done to him. And there. In the center of the remnants of the throne was a lance, radiating a harsh light... Light Bringer. ------------- Pulling himself from his memories Evos had noticed that the storm had lessened a bit, and so he continued his journey. Nothing worthy of note happened until a few days down the line, just as Evos had passed by Windhelm, he heard someone coming from behind him. "Greetings Sera." The tone of voice and greeting unmistakably meant that one of his kin was speaking to him. Evos turned and seen a figure, clad in robes and torch in hand. He also noticed in the light that his robes had some form of incantation written into them, but the writing was undoubtedly Deadric, this made Evos slightly suspicious of his brother. "What brings a fellow Dunmer to these roads?" "One could ask the same of you, sera..." Evos returned in his usual melancholy voice. "But of you really must know, I'm heading to Kynesgrove there is something of great import I must do there." Evos looked at the other Dunmers face, or what ever he could make of it anyway, the bad light and hood made it difficult. "May I ask your name?"

Rawlith heard the voice a speak to him, but it almost seemed unreal. Rawlith had actually saved a woman, one who was not only a stranger, but that had also attacked. This made him think, and he kept cycling his mind through the reel of memory before he came to same conclusion a few times. He had saved her because his instincts led him too, for the simplest of reasons. He could tell her archery was beyond merely wounding a Saxhleel should she choose, and he knew killing at least a member or two before attempting to flee would have been more blood-thirsty than a pot-shot and a cold spell. She was far more skilled then she would probably give credit and far more skilled for anyone of the group to let her walk free, the one good note is that he and Leo seemed to agree on the fact that she could walk free among the camp, but only due to there were far too many and ready people now watching her for any viable option of danger to arise in her favor unless an outside force caused such to happen. His mind rattled for what seemed like an eternity of how he was acting, how the group was affecting him, and how he had seemingly done so much out of tribal character. It seemed as if his time among those not within the tribe had worn off on his communal nature. However he slowly slipped back into the moment and responded to the lady with only a minor hesitation. "It is what, This One, felt was right to do. She did not aim to kill, merely to evade with the success of slowing our resident scholar. This one is would like to think his mind told him everything, but truly his instincts did the work." He stated to her with a nod as he prodded the ribs and continued to slowly turn them while watching their meat brown, sizzle lowly, and pop lightly as the rub caramelized over the top. It began to fill the camp and over-whelmed Rawlith's own powerful olfactory senses, the combination of his Khajiit senses and the extremely heightened Lycanthropic senses made many things much more powerful. This was an obvious advantage for many reasons, especially among the group. The smell of death and undead among those who were not of the truly living, and the scent of something Mer but not of this time. His nose was telling him it was finally time, to eat.

“They smell amazing, Rawlith.”

Rawlith heard Roze speak up once more to him, seeming elated by the smell of the Elk Ribs as they finally came to the finish point on the cooking spit. He slowly untied the binding of the ribs and lowered them with a few utencils onto a large wooden platter with a low, fine, curve towards the center where dripping juices and sauce gathered. The massive plate was a perfect sitting piece for the ribs and a wonderful thing to use to gather the group as a whole once more. Rawlith stood slowly and took only two of the smaller ribs for himself while speaking. "The ribs are ready, for those willing to eat and those who want to fight off the hunger. This One has made Elk Ribs out of Valerion's kill, come and eat." He stated aloud to the whole, while residing off behind the fire and opposite the majority with a soft word to Roze. "Whenever you would like to talk to This One about magic, and lessons, just come find him." He stated with almost a whisper to her and happily sat with an eye about the group. --- VARNADIIR WIP

Rather than think about magic and lessons from Rawlith, Roze's stomach made sure to keep her priorities straight. Food, then bed. She could talk about lessons tomorrow morning, when they continued their journey to Kynesgrove. Although the town - and the dragon - grew closer with every step, the worry that was obviously affecting some of the other members of the group hadn't arrived yet. She was very much a here and now person, so a dragon she wouldn't be seeing for a good week or so was nothing for her to worry about. Taking the ribs with thanks, she somehow managed to juggle three bowls back over to Ildrun and Leo, giving them their share before tearing into her own. She noticed that others were milling around the fire, barring Delphine who was still sat a few metres away with her own mini camp and her own fire. She said she didn't want to camp with us, as she wasn't a true member of the group; she'd only be interfering, otherwise. That was probably why she hadn't done much during the confusion that had gone on with their new "friend". Speaking of, she noticed Niko had set down a bowl of the food beside the currently couchant Snow Elf, before making his way back to his cousin. Before long, the camp had grown quiet - a few murmurs from the pair that had drawn first watch, but otherwise, light snoring and the faint crackle of the dying fire was all that permeated the still night air, accompanied only by the howling of the faint winds, and the hiss emanating from the columns of steam nearby. Dawn would approach in a few hours, which would be the time for the group to awaken. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Gods above, I hate mornings." Roze grumbled into her thin pillow as the ruckus of the camp awoke her for about the fifth time. A few jokers had walked by her, saying they would leave if she didn't get up - like they would dare. Sitting up for a sixth and final time, she stifled a yawn as she stood up. "Thought you'd never get up." Leo said to her with a grin; eyes now back to their full capacity, he was looking at their strange attacker from last night at every sly chance he got. It wasn't just because she was a Snow Elf - it was the way she carried herself, along with that strange, beautiful armour. Niko was also glancing at Faire as he strapped his armour back on, finally finishing and walking over to her. "Here's your weapons." He said, grabbing her attention as he held out the daggers, and the bow he had received from Valerion. "Have you made your decision? Are you going to join us?" He added, glancing at the rest of the sleepy camp as he asked. "I won't lie - we could use all the help we could get."

((Just pretend this didn't happen))

Ildrun yawned a bit as she packed up her things, she hadn't gotten as much sleep as she would have liked in the past few days. Hopefully now that she had caught up with the Dovahfeyn she would be able to get more. It had been an interesting night, particularly because the meeting of a Snow Elf, which Ildrun still had a hard time believing happened, yet the Snow Elf was still there. Then again, the thought of Dragons returning had been nearly unthinkable until it had actually happened, Who knows? We might meet one of the Dwarves before our journey ends. She chuckled a bit, that still seemed unlikely, yet she was traveling (maybe) with a Snow Elf to kill Dragons so it didn't seem impossible as it had before. Ildrun stood up and checked hear gear again, she was ready to go, though there seemed to be some still getting up. She sat down by the fire pit and took out a bit of dried, salted venison to chew on as she thought about the journey ahead.

Early in the morning, several days after he began riding, Val checked his map, finding that he was near a town named "Darkwater crossing". He wasn't familiar with it, but, then again, he'd never been to this gods forsaken frozen plane of oblivion called "Skyrim" before, either, so it made perfect sense. Just outside of town, though, he heard the sounds of a camp being packed up. Unsure if it was bandits, he cautiously rode towards the group. If it was bandits, he would summon an Atronach in their midst and ride away quickly. Strangely, though, the group was made up of quite a wide variety of beings, including nords, a breton, an imperial, an orc woman, a couple of cats, and a lizard. No bandit group is so diverse or well armed. Judging by their gear, it must be the group the Greybeards assembled. he thought to himself before stupidly calling out. "Hail, Davahfeyn." he said, hoping to get their attention. If he was wrong, he'd be forced to ride for the town as fast as he could, as he couldn't take on so many at once.

However, Thorin's eyes would soon start squinting, and not before long, a deep, fatigued yawn came from his mouth, and his head lowered down weakly. The Nord, having walked well over a hundred leagues from Riften to this small village, although with rest breaks, was still very tired and urgently needed some sleep. "You alright, Thorin?" Scatha asked. "...I'll just get some sleep and then we go." Thorin said, managing to summon up some strength. He then got up and walked over to the bar, where the inn keeper was. Noticing the tall Nord walk over to him, the inn keeper asked: "Anything I can do to help you, sir?" "I would like to rent a room to sleep." Thorin asked. "Certainly! It's yours for a day, if you want." the inn keeper responded: "I'll show you to your room, this way." Before Thorin could even look to see where the rest of his things were, he saw Lugdush carrying them in his hands. Happy to see the Orc helping, he commended his acquaintance, soon-to-become friend: "Thank you." As Thorin walked into his room, he only sat on the bed, his head flopping down and his body lowering itself into a slouching posture. The room itself was spacious enough, with a medium-sized table, two chairs, a candlestick and a small drawer standing next to a fairly large bed, specifically made for one person to sleep in. He looked to the door, to see Lugdush carrying his things inside. "Leave the knapsack on the table and lean the sword, bow and arrows against the wall." Thorin said to him. Lugdush laid Thorin's knapsack on the middle of the table, leaned his steel greatsword against the wall, as well as his Imperial bow. He laid his quiver of steel arrows onto the left chair. Before he would leave, Scatha would appear at the door: "Meet us at the southeast bridge when you are awake. How long will you sleep?" "Three hours." Thorin replied. "Have a pleasant sleep, friend." Lugdush said, before closing the door of Thorin's room, and leaving Vilemyr inn with Scatha. Thorin, now alone, took one more look around before getting up only to strip his armor. Having done so, he laid onto his back, took a deep breath, and shut his eyes, trying to get some sleep...

Faire picked at her food but did not finish the portion she was given and instead tossed the remnant aside. Elk was a perfectly fine meal but she wasn't helpless and Faire worked it up in her head that accepting that food meant submitting herself to this group. Sleep had also scarcely presented itself to the weary Snow Elf. A sentry was placed to watch over the captive and fearing for her own safety, Faire slept very lightly throughout the night in her bundle of fur and hide by the fire. -- There wasn't a lot of heavy sleeping so when dawn arrived, Faire felt exhausted. She groggily paced the camp until the Nord, Nikos, returned her weapons. "I have." She answered the Nord as she slipped her daggers back into their holsters. "I will accompany you. For now." She bent down and slung her quiver behind her back and took her bow from Niko's hand. Faire could feel a bit of energy and confidence surge in at her weapons return, especially her old dagger. "Dragons will be no small feat, Nord." She leaned in and muttered quietly, intending on this on being only for Niko's ears. "Remember their faces. Many will fall in this quest. I won't be sticking around to care." She pulled away and without another word, she flung her hood over her head and strode off, lost in her thoughts.

Although saying nothing in response, Niko found Faire's response to be somewhat disheartening; most likely as it was the truth. Killing dragons was no easy task to achieve - as the late Dragonborn had found out himself - and people would be dying as their quest towards Alduin continued. However, now was not the time to be cowed, especially just by words; they hadn't even seen a dragon yet. 'Hail, Dovahfeyn!' A voice - a new voice - attracted the attention of Niko, along with the rest of the camp. Turning to the sound, he spotted a male Altmer sat atop a horse, a few paces away from the group. "Hail, stranger," Niko began, stepping forward slightly and looking him straight in the eyes. Unlike many of his fellow Nords, Niko preferred to not judge anyone by their race. However, the Thalmor robes could perhaps cause some issues. The Thalmor weren't known for being the best people to work with. "Were you searching for us?" Leo had narrowed his eyes ever so slightly as he spotted the newcomer - a Thalmor. He didn't like the Thalmor; or the Aldmeri Dominion. Not outright hate them, or the Altmer race as a whole; but this subgroup irritated him. From the ones he had met, they were arrogant, they were obnoxious, and they were nearly always wiling to start a fight with any race that they believed were lower than themselves; that was, in fact, every race other than Altmer. "Hope he doesn't want to join us..." He muttered quietly to Roze, who was stood beside him. After not receiving a response, he glanced at her, eyebrows raising slightly to see her hands were clenched over the pommels of her daggers. Any remnants of sleep or tired humour had vanished from her face from earlier - it was instead strangely unanimated, the skin pale, but the eyes filled with a deep hatred as she stared at the Thalmor. Although tempted to make some form of scathing or witty remark to her, the small amount of common sense he had within him prevented this. The change in those eyes had been almost frightening. Not wanting the Altmer to see fury incarnate on the off chance he was actually a pleasant fellow, Leo stepped in front of Roze, a bright smile on his face as he blocked her view of the Thalmor. "Maybe you should pack up your bedroll - we aren't going to hang around waiting for you, you know." Those icy eyes met his own, but she gave a stiff nod. "Fine." She muttered, then paused. "But if that... monster joins us, I'll feed him to the damn dragons on a silver platter. You can pass that along." At that, she walked back to her bedroll and began packing her things up, leaving Leo running a hand through his messy hair, sighing. "Tragic backstory. Why do they always have to have a tragic backstory?" He muttered to himself as he walked over to Niko.

Val got off of the horse and nodded. "I've come to learn to fight the dragons which threaten my people, but the Greybeards told me your group had left already. I bought a horse and came to join you as fast as I could, hoping to join you." He saw two people nearby who were staring at him, obviously not liking him, probably because they had had run-ins with the Thalmor before. Normally he wouldn't care if they hated him, after all, they were just a Nord and a Breton, but problems within the team could lead to his death, so he would need to deal with them as fast as he could. He walked towards them, but before he got there he noticed a Mer woman with pale skin. He had never seen a member of her race before, but from his studies he assumed she was a Snow Elf. Regardless of her exact race, though, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. He walked over and knelt before her. "Do my eyes deceive me?" he said, "has the Lady Dibella deigned to take mortal form and walk among us?" True, it was a line, from what he had read, that was nearly as likely as her being an actual ancient Falmer.

"Wow...he seriously just said that." Niko muttered as Leo cracked up beside him, bent-double at the pick-up line. At the very least, the Altmer was interested in joining the group. And the fact that he was a Thalmor no doubt showed that he was able to actually fight - however, the sudden 'gooey' comment he had made to Faire stirred an unfamiliar feeling of discomfort within Niko. "Woo... the guy works fast, I'll give him that." Leo said after retaining his composure, still chuckling slightly and wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. Glancing sideways at his cousin, he grinned slyly, digging him in the ribs. To anyone other than Leo, Niko's face would be perfectly composed - however, after having lived with him for so long, he could tell when his cousin was disgruntled.. "Don't say you want his head on a pike too, cuz. You'll have to get in a line after Roze." Darting a withering look and a muttered 'shut it' at Leo, Niko walked towards Faire and the Altmer. "Well, we're happy for the help. I'm Niko." He said, then glanced around at the camp. "We'll have to do the rest of the introductions on the road though - we need to get to Kynesgrove soon. Don't want to miss the dragon." At that note, the camp moved onwards along their path towards Kynesgrove, the dragon, and possible death. However, spirits seemed to be lifting slightly. Perhaps due to the arrival of more people, or simply because they'd had a decent night's rest for once, the group moved onwards through the volcanic badlands, encountering nothing larger than wolves and the occasional bear - until they hit Witchmist Grove on their second week mark since their journey began. Although only a hag and Hagraven to fight, it allowed many in the group to show how well they fought, and how well they fought together. Some left at this point - if they couldn't handle witches, they weren't going to cope very well against dragons. However, the group was still in somewhat high spirits as they finally reached the village of Kynesgrove, despite growing tensions within the group... --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Do my eyes deceive me?" ... -- Faire was pacing about the camp, waiting for the antagonizing long period it took for this large hunting party to pack up and head out. If it were her alone, she'd already be a few miles down the road, but she knew how long it took to move larger parties like this so it didn't bother her much. All that pacing helped keep her at ease. During her frantic pacing, a newcomer had arrived but Faire did not particularly care to met someone new, especially considering that most of this party will be charred ash in a few weeks. But as she ignored the conversations behind her, a sudden exclamation of interest and a thump of someone falling to their knees halted Faire out of her thoughts and her pacing. -- As soon as Faire turned, full face, to witness an Altmer on his knees, she knew what was going to happen. Faire stood there, her confused gaze unwavering, as she recounted the Altmer's line over and over again. The moment it had actually sunk in, Faire could feel her face warming up to uncomfortable levels of embarrassment. It was made worse as she finally took her eyes off the kneeling Altmer and glanced around the camp. Everybody had stopped and they were now witnessing this happening. It was a good thing Faire's face was hidden because her face, especially her cheeks, had turned from a pale coloring to cherry red. "I..uh...t-thanks." She said hastily under her breath. Her thoughts raced a million per minute! Had this Altmer no shame? What else could she say? And worst of all, d-did she actually enjoy that corny pick-up line? There was something to say about romance, and Faire was a diehard romantic at one time. Hearing the cheesiest of poems, lines, songs, and seductions attempt was a bit of a comedic past time for the old Faire. It was hysterical to hear what people could come up with and she had to admit, she did actually love the gestures of flowers that came with those attempts. But the old Faire was buried somewhere and she hasn't been unearthed for thousands of years. She wasn't laughing and felt rather flustered, but a kindling of enjoyment could be felt. Thankfully Faire wasn't left in her turmoil as Nikos came and rescued her from the very daring Altmer. --- Kynesgrove couldn't come any sooner. Most of Faire's traveling was done away from the group. She hung around the perimeter, just within visible range of the rest of the group. More of an excuse to not be a part of the camaraderie than to keep the group safe. For the most part, Faire was left alone as she did her best to keep herself away but she spoke a few words to the group. Most of it was providing a briefing on what exactly was a dragon and recalling her own accounts of encounters. In her day, they weren't outright hostile as there had been agreements made on both sides, but she saw one dragon go rogue and tried to recall as much information as possible. Since Nikos seemed to the leader, Faire shared with him most of that information. She also talked a bit to the Altmer the day of his very embarrassing pick-up line. Faire was heard to even give a very slight chuckle during the conversation, likely another pick-up line. Seeing as her identity was still mostly a secret, she did not actually enter Kynesgrove and instead wandered the perimeter. The night before they reached Kynesgrove, Faire requested that Nikos make sure her identity remains a secret as she does not want it to become public knowledge for her own safety. She also told him, "You need not search for me during your stay at Kynesgrove, I'll be there when the dragon arrives." Intending to keep her promise for a favor and use that to bargain for a favor of her own.

Valerion Draviis The night went incredibly quick after dinner was served, it was expertly cooked and prepared by Rawlith, as he collected his part of the elk; which was a prime cut based on the fact that it was his kill, Valerion went back to his rock and removed his helmet. Placing it at his feet he began rifling through his belongings and pulled out a very fine Port, and had a few sips of it whilst he ate. The night itself was becoming quite cold, the night sky was very clear with not a single cloud insulating the area meaning that it was to be a very cold night, and likely a cold morning with frost, a common occurrence in Skyrim, admittedly but around the Volcanic vents and the local area it was slightly more uncommon, the natural heat sources would be a welcome relief to the others, Valerion did not doubt this. The night quickly passed, the fire reduced to smoking embers and the rest of the party were all asleep, Valerion could not though... Sleep was rare for him now even the relief it brought was a mere dwindling source of mortality that had remained with him through his very long life, in a few centuries he doubted he'd ever have to sleep again. So he simply sat there on the rock of his, perched like a bird of prey his hands resting on the hilt of his blade ready to strike down anything that dared attack the camp. The dawn soon came and it revived Valerion from his watch and he merely observed as the rest of the camp slowly stirred and started moving around, Delphine, whom was almost a ghost in relation to the rest of the group came over with a strange look on her face, one could almost mistake it for concern. "Did you get any sleep? I thought there was meant to be a rota for who watched over the camp at night?" Valerion simply stood from his spot and started getting the warmth in his bones again, they were almost locked in place from his non movement in the cold for so long. "It's fine, sleep and I don't cross paths much anymore." It was after this that Niko came over and asked for the elfs bow, Valerion handed it over with out so much as a word. He watched as Niko gave back to the snow elf, as well as her dagger and quiver of arrows. The look on her face didn't reveal much but he could tell she hated Niko; although, that being said she may hate everyone here and had even more of a reason to hate Valerion, he being moments away from ending her life last night. Just before the camp was nearly packed away and everyone getting ready to move out a call sounded over from the west, along the path they had came from Ivarstead. It was from a Altmer, by the looks of it, he was on a horse and asking if the group was called DovahFeyn, and if so, could he join them. but that wasn't the interesting part... What caught Valerions attention was that very very specific attire that he was wearing, it unmistakably being that of the Aldemri dominion, Valerion remembered the first two dominions back in the second era, filled with pompous elves that had superiority complexes, both dominions were shattered into pieces and the leaders killed, especially after the first one which caused much strife in High rock. Valerion had little doubt that the same would befall the third dominion too... within time. Taking note of the others he could easily tell that Leo and Roze were not fond of him, he had little doubt the others wouldn't be either, but at the current situation and moment in time allegiances mattered little in the face of the dragon threat, the last thing they needed to be was at each others throats. It was then that the Altmer decided to make a spectacle of himself, coming out with a line that would only be found in romance novels written by drunks. Valerion shook his head and muttered "Brilliant... a second Leonidas... just what we need." Leo caught this comment and smiled followed with a snort; saying "At least I have class about it." The time was to move out now, Kynesgrove being their destination. ---------- The journey was fairly short, with the odd discussion here and there but for the most part silence prevailed, although Valerion did notice that Rawlith and Roze were spending some time together away from the group at night, this created a slight suspicion in Valerions mind, but really he didn't care where they were doing. The high point of the journey was when they passed Witchmist grove, a place where a witch's thought to cast fireballs at them, they were quite quickly dealt with and Valerion was tempted to take a soul from one of them but he could wait to Kynesgrove as he still had a few days to go before the signs started. Kynesgrove itself was now just in front of them, the moment in which a dragon fight was nearly upon the party, and the moment where he would consume a Dragons soul... Valerion hadn't been able to sit still the past few days in anticipation, but he felt the need to start talking with the party now, and start forming some bonds, he'd need to learn their fighting styles before the dragon fight so he'd know how to best utilise them when the time arisen. "Kynesgrove" Valerion stated "We're finally here..." Turning around and looking at the group Valerion stated to them "It's about time we learnt how we all fight before we throw ourselves against the kin of Akatosh, so... who's up for a sparring session?"

Ildrun almost chuckled at the statement the Altmer made. She wasn't fond of Altmer, especially those who were with the Aldmeri Dominion, but such dislikes had to be set aside in the face of greater threats like Dragons. At any rate he was obviously smitten with Faire, and how he had just come out and said that line was hysterical in her mind. Not that she would let any see it, she didn't want anyone to come close to thinking she would be friends with a Thalmor, so she simply ignored him. At any rate, they were about to leave for Kynsgrove, and Ildrun was eager to get a move on. ---------- They had finally reached reached Kynesgrove. It wasn't a long journey, though they had run into a little trouble it was nothing the group couldn't handle. Ildrun hoped that she had shown her worth against their adversaries, as those were some of the few she had ever fought. At any rate the Dragon was foremost in her mind now, thinking much about how to take down the beast. Valerion asked if anyone was up for sparring, at which Ildrun perked up and said, "I would love to get some practice in before we fight this Dragon. Though I suppose fighting a Dragon will be much different than fighting a person." she shrugged, she mostly just wanted to get her mind off of thinking about the Dragon, it would probably just scare her more than if she didn't.