A pair of unlikely figures walked along the road towards the town of Dragonbridge. One, was a massive argonian, most of his body covered in heavy armour, a long, curved blade at his side, and a massive shield slung over his back, held there by a wide, leather strap. The argonian had a distinct draconic appearance, with long horns that curved back, away from his skull, along with several bony growths lining the underside of his jaw. His scales were a dark grey, almost as dark as his armour, save for a narrow strip at his neck, under his jaw. A pair of perceptive, turquoise eyes took in their surroundings, keeping an eye out for ambushes.
His companion was so small she barely reached his chest. Her lighter armour made her seem even more diminutive, and the closeness between them made it seem like the massive argonian was protecting her. Hinting that she needed protection. Of course, if someone would have suggested that to the petite dunmer, she would have cut their tongue out in a heartbeat. Still, her large companion would have given his life in an instant to save hers, and she would do the same for him. Not that she would ever admit to such a weakness. In the few years they'd spent together, both had saved the other from certain death countless times. Often in the pursuit of helping others. Something that Sothas' dark elf friend, Aylira almost constantly complained about. And the reason the pair were currently in Skyrim.
"I hate it here." The dunmer griped, drawing her cloak around herself. "It's too cold. And every nord I've met looks at us like we're some sort of dangerous animals." She glanced at her hulking companion. "Well...more dangerous." Sothas tilted his head towards her, eyes twinkling with unshed mirth. Scowling, she swatted his hand "stop looking at me like that. You know what I mean."
"They're frightened." Sothas pointed out, "these disappearances are...unnatural."
"So they should be glad we're risking our hides to help them." Aylira countered, "not slamming doors in our faces, and waving axes."
"Fearful people are seldom rational." He reminded her, his tone admonishing. The argument, or rather a similar argument, had taken place since they'd arrived in Skyrim over a week ago. They'd had to fight both bandits and the more radical elements of the Stormcloaks, who hadn't taken kindly to a pair of non-nords wandering the countryside. The attacks had decreased once they'd passed the town known as Morthal, but the people they'd come across were still wary of them.
"If not for your bleeding heart, we could be drinking Stros M'kai someplace in Hammerfell. Come on, I can see the bridge." The dark elf griped, increasing her pace. The dragonbridge that gave the nearby town its' name was quite impressive, she had to admit. And old. And it cross a canyon, with a fast flowing river at the bottom. She froze at the bridge, staring down into the fast flowing water. The old fear was still there, ingrained into her being, no matter how much she tried to rationalize away the odds of her falling into the freezing, fast flowing river below.
Sensing her unease, Sothas placed a comforting hand on his companions upper back, bracing her. "Aylira?"
"What if it breaks?" She wondered out loud, her voice barely strong enough to be heard above the roar of the river.
"It's stood for centuries. It won't break now."
"But what if it does?"
"Then you'll climb on my back, and I'll carry you across."
That seemed to snap her out of her trance, and she glared at the argonian. "You're wearing armour, you big oaf. We'd sink, and then I'd drown for sure." She stared out across the bridge, at the town that was their goal, and set her jaw. "Let's go." She started across the bridge, stiff legged at first, but gaining confidence as she moved. With a sigh, Sothas followed. The two of them crossed the bridge, which, true to Sothas' prediction, did not crumble and dump them into the rushing water below.
They got some strange looks from the guardsmen at the other side, but were directed to the tavern down the road. "That's where the others are staying." One of the guards said helpfully, as if it should be obvious who those others were. Sothas nodded his thanks to the guard and followed Aylira to the tavern, the Four Shields. Inside, it became obvious who the guard was referring to.
Four people were already up and moving about. Three men, one of whom was an orc in what seemed to be legion armour, or a very close imitation of it. There was a nord in a mix of steel and leather armour, and a robed man who was actually taller than Sothas. All three were at the bar, and he guessed one of the three was in charge of the mercenary group the kings' men had been posting notices about. The fourth person in the place was a diminutive khajiit woman, who sat alone at a place set for two. "Get us seats" Sothas muttered to his companion. "I'll see what I can figure out here."
They split up, with Aylira headed to a vacant table, and Sothas to the bar. He motioned the barkeep over "a meal for my friend and I, sir." He plunked the septims down on the bar, then glanced over, to the robed nord. "I don't suppose you have any more of an idea of who's in charge than I do."
Aylira chose the table nearest the lone khajiit, taking a seat and stretching her legs out. Then she looked over to the woman and the two plates. Clearly, she was expecting company. Whether that company would be trouble for Aylira, she wasn't sure. Deciding to find out, she got the womans' attention with a small wave. "So you eat by yourself often? Or does your friend" she nodded to the empty chair, "usually make you order their food for them?"