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The Exile's Rest

The bartender let out a sigh when he heard the answer. "Forgive my intrusion. It's just that strange folk showing up at my door and dropping off dying people isn't the best sign. I worry for my family to get caught up in some illicit scheme, I suppose."

Laaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnd!

Sinyail slumped off the raft, clutching his wrist. Wincing in pain, he said, his voice trailing off. "We're saved..."

He came to his senses, realising this wasn't over yet. "We need to get ourselves a fire, fast."

"Are illicit schemes and so on that common here?" Dorian laughed, sipping at the mead again, "I didn't think I was in High Rock anymore."

Candlehearth Hall

Eolwyn watched the gently falling snow outside, finding the sight relaxing.
Something niggled at the back of her mind, however, though she did not know what.

Her peaceful moment was disrupted by the sudden sound of breaking glass and people shouting, coming from the lower level of the Hall. She turned to look at the stairway, listening to try and hear what the commotion was about.

"Probably just a common bar brawl," she thought to herself.

There was no reason for her to be on edge, so she turned her attention back to the falling snow.

Upon the Craggy Shore with Drift Wood & Snow

Cast to the weathered terra his knees ached under the shallow water, his mighty arms braced his weight as he stared at the shore below. Ever now and then the surf brought a rise, bringing to his warped reflection closer to face. Sea water and mucus dripped from his chin, his lungs urged him to clear these things. He was cold, cast in the enbrace of the North; this was good, it meant he lived, what more is it was a cold he knew so well.

The orc forced himself to stand, water clinged to his hide like fur on a khajiit. He took his time to adjust himself, learn the shore and his fellow survivors position. He knew these land, no better than any nord, if they could find a path then likely he could lead this pack to better lands, and maybe find the deserters and make them pay for their deed... His fist clenched at the thought, nobody runs from Maurzol for this hunt shall go on.

"We must go! Go to where the snow wont fall, and find a den to which fire shall kindle!" He marched towards any whom may still be too weak to break from the drift, his metal clad legs untroubled by the waves. "If we slow to these burdens then we fair better to the wolves than to frost, we have no time to spend! Make haste!" Was he so concerned for their lives? No, he must know that his own odds would rise, be they for anothers prey or his own if time drew dire. But what most was clear, he wasnt going to abandon them like most, he was not as heartless or their foe. Right now, survival and vengance was all that kept him at post. They could only hope the gods gave respite

Niralie - Exile's Rest Inn

Niralie looked back at the Bosmeri woman as she spoke. A gruff man? Arellius? After all, he was absent from the room.

"Brown hair and a scar on his face, right? Did he indicate whether he was returning?" She paused. "Where in Skyrim are we? ...we are still in Skyrim, right?" She was burning with questions, and it was hard not to ask all of them at once.

Beach.

Sinyail raised an eyebrow at the orc's words, but said nothing of them. Instead, he summarised his view and geographical knowledge of this land that he had not seen in many decades: "Smoke rises over there, and that could be a cave, or at least a break in the rock. If I remember right, there should be a city in either direction from here going along the beach."

The Merc with a mouth
Kelessa nodded, and began to walk off, shaking her hand, magic flexed to use the least taxing weapon summoning she knew. A dagger to be flexed into existence, but she held it discreetly, not to make it obvious should there be any survivors. "Let's go then by Molag Bal's moldy balls.." She stated under her breath. "Stay near the fire, don't wander off!" She shouted over her shoulder at the Argonian..

The Shore

Sees-In-Shade had been semi-conscious, numb and shivering on the raft as it was brought to shore. He didn't know he could be so cold. Maurzol's barking made him stir, and he thrashed his tail, trying to get his blood flowing again. He made the last few bitter steps onto shore hunched over, rubbing his chest and stomach, trying to stay warm.

"L-l-lead," the shivering Argonian stuttered to the Orc.

Craggy Shore

The orc took lead of these welps, as it ought to be, with the smoke afar being the only mark of certainty. He looked at the rocks with concern, if he learned anything from his travels is that anything dreadfull could be lurking. less so any major settlements may be days of travel, something many wont endure. "No we stay clear of the crag and head there, better to walk into a camp of bandits than an ambush of trolls."

Maurzol hurried along, keen to his senses. He stared the lizard whom hides, certain that he would eventually fall behind or worse if Hircine so wished. "Stay in close! Weakest in center, rest to flanks! And keep your witts about!" he barked without delay. "You will heed my advice..." He hardly looked to confirm their reaction, he kept to the lead like an alpha and his pack

The Shore

Sees-In-Shade took the center promptly with a raspy bark - a laugh. He was miserable and felt half-dead, but could not entirely suppress his delight to be alive. "W-weakessst, yesss," he agreed happily to this role, as he had actually wished to be considered weak for a long time.

"... Among my people, the weakessst do the easssy work," the weary Argonian muttered as he checked to make sure his sword was not frozen in its scabbard. Not that he had any intention of using it. "No hunting, no ... f-fighting. They fish and g-gather ... and live."

City of Windhelm

The Exile's Rest - Top Floor

"You're in Windhelm, milady." replied the respectful bosmer lass. "You're in the Exile's Rest of the Snow District, my father's tavern. My name is Lithia."

Placing the soaked rag back in the bucket, she turned towards the two guests fully and stood straight, as was considered respectful. "As for the rugged man, he didn't say where he was going or if he'd be back. There's another man, a Breton, downstairs, but I'm unsure if he knows of you or the Imperial that brought you here."

The Exile's Rest - Ground Floor Bar

"Never been to High Rock in my days, but schemes are abound wherever you go. Especially in this section of the city, where all the refuse tends to gather. At least here, you tend to hear something coming before it stabs you in the back." The bartender replied. "So, yes, I've had my fair share of illicit episodes at my doorstep, and I'd like to keep as many away from my family as I can."

Candlehearth Hall

The brawl downstairs continued to rage on, though it seemed to be staying downstairs until a huffing Dark Elf ran upstairs. His face was bruised and he had a nasty gash on his left cheek.

"Pardon!" he shouted, running forward and shoulder-rushing a nearby glass window, plummeting from the second floor of the tavern to the snow below. He landed in a soft enough spot to avoid serious injury, but was still quite winded.

Moments later, a gang of obviously intoxicated Nords ascended the stairs to the top floor. In the hands of the apparent ringleader was the collar of another dark elf patron, similarly roughed up and bloodied like one that leapt out of the window. The ringleader was a tall, menacing man with prominent battle scars. He had a bald head, and his face was decorated with a blue tattoo that covered most of the left half of his face, save that which was covered by his large, unkempt red beard.

"[&@%!] ran through the damn window!" shouted the ringleader, fixing his eyes on the broken window and then on Eolwyn. "You there, elf. You weren't at the bar. You with these devils?"

"Of course she is, Ragnir!" argued another, far younger nord with blonde hair and the beginnings of a beard on his chin. "Them elves like to stick together!"

The ringleader, revealed to be named Ragnir, shot an angry glance at the young nord, making him shut up, then turned back to Eolwyn. He expected an answer.

Dorian was satisfied with his evaluation of the elf's character. Kind, but resigned to the evils of the city. Devoted to his family, likely had a soft spot for children.

"You seem relatively well-informed, so I may as well ask. I'm to receive a package for transport to my young master. A gift from his parents." Dorian flashed the signet ring on his hand, "However, they neglected to mention the name of the ship it came on. I can guess it sailed from Northpoint, but I really must return to my charge soon. I left him in the care of his steward, but the poor boy has night terrors, you understand."

Dorian coughed and leaned back in his chair, "How would one go about finding a ship in this city? There must be a harbormaster."

The Exile's Rest - Ground Floor Bar

The signet ring meant nothing to the bartender. "Well informed is a bit of an overstatement, but folks run a rumor past old Elithir now and then." he replied, putting a hand to his rough-shaven chin. Elithir thought for a moment. "There's a harbormaster, yes, but I don't quite recall his name. I don't have much cause to go around the harbor, you understand. As for the harbor itself, it's in the southeastern section of the city. Were I you, I wouldn't go there alone right now."

Niralie - The Exile's Rest Upstairs

"Thank you, Lithia." Niralie was surprised that Arellius would have seen to it that the two of them were healed. Whether or not he still intended to travel with them, and even if he'd paid using money from their own purses (which she suspected he might have done), he still seemed the type to leave someone if they weren't of use to him. Perhaps he felt the same sense of connection that she felt toward the others, after having survived the lifeboat together.

"Uh, no, we didn't have a Breton man in our party," she added. She attempted to slowly sit up so that she could check her wounds and take stock of what sort of state she was in. She hoped it would not be too painful to do so. "I assume you're the healer? What was the extent of my injuries?"

Candlehearth Hall

Eolwyn's assumption that the bar brawl would remain downstairs did not turn out to be true. She barely had time to register the presence of the Dunmer rushing by, before the window she had just been looking out of was smashed to pieces, his body dropping like a sack of potatoes onto the snow below.

The Bosmer pushed her chair back roughly, rising from her seat, as she saw the group of Nords ascending to the upper floor. She rested her hand near the handle of her dagger at her hip.

Her eyes fleeted from one man to another, noticing that the victim that one of them held in his grasp was also a Dunmer. If these men had no other reason for their violence other than a hatred of elf kind -she had better be ready to defend.

"I assure you that I have nothing to do with anyone in this establishment, nor with whatever deeds they are involved in. I am merely a lady trying to have a nice, peaceful meal." She replied confidently to the leader.

From his words, it seemed that 'Ragnir' was not particularly interested with her race, he clearly had some other beef with the two Dunmer. The young blonde Nord was another matter, however, and she eyed him with distrust.

Kelessa - Craggy Shore

The pair of mercenaries continued on their path along the frozen shore as Kelessa's sass was only responded to by a passed out Argonian with a muffled grunt. He wasn't going anywhere and his breathing was shaky but steady. Kelessa had saved his life from certain death and as such the Gods looked down upon her and smiled. +1 Karma. Her tanto discreetly manifested without anyone noticing and was concealed.

Kelessa's companion was silent, she clearly did not like talking very much even at the best of times and considering the cold she would only speak when absolutely necessary. In no time they reached a rocky outcropping where the only choice was to go around a small bend in the shore along the sea. The path was small and there was very little visibility and all that could be heard was the whistling of the wind. The Redguard made the turn quickly along the path without looking around it first.

Marzoul and Friends - Craggy Shore

Thanks to Marzoul's leadership the group managed to get into a formation that served not only to protect them from possible attack but to mitigate the effects of the rough weather as well for Sees-In-Shade. The Argonian was still far to cold to engage in any real physical activity save for the slow and steady walk he managed now but he was no longer losing heat as quickly as he was. He felt sluggish and sleepy, but he could still speak without too much of a loss to his reaction time.

As the group approached the rocky outcrop they came to a path that straddled the sea but would not force them to get wet they simply could not see on the other side. There was little of note as the sound of the sea and wind masked any noises. The coast seemed clear and the smoke was not much farther judging from the distance they had seen in their approach.

"Illicit schemes in progress there, I suppose?" Dorian inquired, "Or is your concern vested in some other matter?"

City of Windhelm

The Exile's Rest - Top Floor

"Well, I'm not the healer, my mother Rilisandra is. I'm just her apprentice for now. She did all the healing, I merely helped and stood by to keep watch over you both in case anything went wrong." Lithia replied. "Your injury was easy to patch up with some magic, but my mother isn't sure if there will be any long-term effects. As for you..." she continued, looking to Tia with a detectable sense of unease. "You should be able to have the bandages on your arm removed within the week. It was a clean hit, magical ice tends not to do much lasting damage."

Lithia walked over to a night-stand between the two beds and lit a candle with a small flame conjured upon her index finger. "Most of the danger to you both was from frostbite and exhaustion. Had you been out there a few more days, we wouldn't have been able to save you."

The Exile's Rest - Ground Floor Bar

"Illicit, yes..." Elethir answered, staring at the bottom of an empty mug. "There's a gang of pirates from Vvardenfell that docked a few days ago. They've been causing an uproar everywhere they've gone, shaking people down for their jewelry and only their jewelry. Their numbers or small, but I doubt they're the entire gang. Rumors have it that an entire pirate fleet sails from the remote corners of Vvardenfell, and these brutes may be part of something larger."

The bartender lost his focus on the mug and placed it back on the shelf. "That's why I recommend not going alone. If they decide you're worth their time, and you somehow escape, you may end up on the short list of a pirate lord of all people."

Candlehearth Hall - Top Floor

Ragnir and the other gathered nords eyed Eolwyn carefully. "Fine. Only grey-skins came from the docks anyhow." Ragnir concluded, tossing the unconscious dark elf in his grasp to the floor. Looking at Eolwyn, he could tell that she was ready to attack at a moment's notice. A bar brawl he could handle, but he hadn't his trusty axe on him. An actual fight was a bit too much to bite off, even for the proud nord. "But mark my words, you'd be best to make yourself scarce. These grey-skins have been causing no end of trouble. And after enough muggings, every elf starts to look the same to me, aye? Watch yourself."

With that warning laid out, Ragnir turned back towards his posse. "Back to the bar, you louts! We've paid for it with blood, spit, and broken teeth!"

One of the nords smiled a newly-toothy grin as the group descended the stairs again. In a few moments, the only things left on the top floor were Eolwyn, shattered glass, and an unconscious dunmer.

Niralie - Exile's Rest Upstairs

"It's good to be back into civilization. Thank the gods it wasn't worse," Niralie said with a sigh, imagining what could have been. "All right. Please thank your mother for me." She felt her head carefully to check on the bandages, and her chest as well.

Her brief self-examination complete, she turned to Valentia. "So... what exactly happened? I remember the cave..." She paused for a moment, closing her eyes as she tried to relive the events in her mind. "I got tackled by the troll... that only hurt my head, I think. And then we ran into the mage... Nandrnil, his name was... He offered us food and shelter. That's all I can recall. What happened after? What happened to my chest, and how did you get hurt?" The rest of her questions tumbled out.

Candlehearth Hall

Eolwyn exhaled a breath of relief as the group of Nords returned to the bar downstairs. She wasn't in the mood for a fight, and she would have been most certainly outnumbered.

She looked at the man laying battered on the floor. From the information obtained from Ragnir, this man was no good, a mugger, and there seemed to be more of his kind around the dock area.

Eolwyn considered just walking away and leaving the Dunmer there. It had been a busy and tiring week, and she had been hoping to spend a few days just relaxing and stocking up on supplies.

"Remember your duties, Eolwyn. This man is a criminal." The Bosmer's inner voice pestered her thoughts and she sighed as she made up her mind on what to do next.

"Right you, we're going to have a little chat." She said to the dark elf, despite him being unconscious.

She reached into her satchel that lay on a chair and pulled out a short length of rope. It was the same one that Nandrnil had been bound with, and it was looking a bit tatty.

Walking up to the bruised man, she gave him a gentle kick to see his response before attempting to tie his hands together.

Windhelm - Prison

Nandrnil decided to make his move, after all he did not have all day to sit here and odds were that he would be sent back to the imperial city if he didn't escape. Nandrnil began a muffled encantation, it was a fairly powerful calm spell he charged the spell in his hand and waited for it to be ready.

Merc's side of the Shore
Kelessa felt the weight of her tanto and followed after the redguard. Carefully judging her steps as she walked across the short path, making sure she had a grip on the rocks, so she doesn't slip and fall off, how anti-climatic would that be. "Azura's nipples it's quiet.." She murmured under her breath.

The Exile's Rest - Ground Floor Bar

Dorian frowned, "Why hasn't the guard done anything about them? Surely your Baron... No. What do you call them here? Jarls? Surely your Jarl wouldn't allow a gang of pirates free run of his harbor?"