Falin sat by the fire in the old inn. The light from the flames danced along the dragon scales that made up her armor. She ignored the glances and glares from the nearby Nords. They never did take too kindly to a Mer being in their midst, let alone a Bosmer with horns growing from her head. They sat somewhat lopsided on her head, a sparring accident having torn one free from its place on her scalp and snapping the other off. While both healed, they no longer grew to the same length.

Shaking her head she took a sip of mead that had been warmed by the fire. Bosmer just weren't built for the cold, she often found herself saying. So for her to get called out to Winterhold's freezing realm wasn't exactly ideal for the Immortal. Why couldn't things happen in Falkkreath? At least it's tolerable there. Pulling a rather official looking document from a pouch, she took another sip of the warm mead while skimming over the Jarl's letter. A request for aid was all it was. Something has been clearing out villages lately and he had no one to spare to look into it. Or perhaps he felt better about potentially sending a Bosmer to their death instead of a fellow Nord.

She snorted, tossing the letter into the hungry fire. She watched the greedy flames reduce the parchment to ash. Had it not been for Y'ffre's order to protect all parts of Nirn, she may have just ignored the letter. Say something about the courier being lost or perhaps had a nasty run in with a frost troll. They were rather common in these parts afterall.

Aksel decided to go back. With the storm, I'm not going to get anything done. He slid down the mountain slowly.

BelleoftheBrawl

"I bet. You're a College mage after all!" Axelia galloped along, then looked up at the sky with her lips pursed. Her eyes darted from the dull, low-gliding clouds to a red bird that darted across the sky. "... Crimson Larkwing. That's an omen." She muttered to herself, watching the bird fly away. She was silent for a moment, an uncharacteristically solemn expression on her face. She was a scholar and woman of reason, of course, but she still believed heavily in superstition and divination. Her knowledge of tradition told her that a Crimson Larkwing seen flying west was a bad sign; that danger was right around the corner. She hoped that it was wrong.

"... That and look at those clouds! There's gonna be a storm if we don't hurry." She dug her heel into her horses side, urging him forward even faster. The two dashed past a hooded figure with no acknowledgment of his existence. "Hey Emily! Let's go find an inn to stay in for the night. Know of any around here?" She called back to her companion, the wind blowing her messy hair in all sorts of directions.

Emily was dazed off at the clouds, she faintly heard Axelia's voice "Oh sorry I dazed off for a moment. . .Sure I believe ther to be one not too far away. We better hurry" said Emily flicking the reins of Blizzard (that's the name of her horse) as she galloped on.

Aksel reached the nearby town and found her way to the old inn. The fire brought a huge relief to him. 

He came up to the bartender and said, "Knock me out."

As Aksel took the cup of mead, he looked around the bar. He took a sip and saw Falin Nightlake. At that moment, they made eye contact. Aksel spit out his mead and turned around, trying to obscure himself. Not her again!

(Next episode, we know each other and work with each other constantly.)

Axelia gave a nod at Emily's words. "Better hurry. Don't wanna be rained on. Rain never makes my hair look good..." She patted her mess of a curly mane at the words, her statement ironic given that her hair never seemed to be tamed or put any work into to make it look good in the first place. 

The two rode in mild silence until they reached the inn with Axelia only speaking up to give facts of whatever animal species they came across, whatever insect decided to fly past that caught her eye... It was soon becoming obvious why nobody around the college liked her; she was too much to handle. When they approached the inn she threw open the doors with a wide smile, taking a moment to drink in the warm atmosphere. She let out a sigh of content, then walked inside and approached the bar, holding up a few septims. "A mead and a room, please!" She called out, then happily took her bottle and took a moment to look around the bar, her gaze falling on a... Bosmer with horns?

She narrowed her eyes a bit. Not out of ill intent, but out of confusion. "... I didn't know that branch of elvenkind came with cervidae..." She muttered, taking a sip of mead. "Wish I had horns. Come on..." 

epic AKH

As Aksel took the cup of mead, he looked around the bar. He took a sip and saw Falin Nightlake. At that moment, they made eye contact. Aksel spit out his mead and turned around, trying to obscure himself. Not her again!

(Next episode, we know each other and work with each other constantly.)

At the sound of mead being sprayed across the floor, Falin looked up and quirked an eyebrow at the Bosmer. What could possibly be his problem? He certainly didn't smell like a close follower of the Green Pact. Not that mead was forbidden. Ah, the advantages of honey.

 Shaking her head, she leaned back and pulled out a small bone pipe. She wasn't leaving any time soon so may as well relax. After packing the pipe with a course ground powder, she retrieved a small stick whose end glowed a dark red. Pipe lit, she returned the stick to the flames.

(Are we in the same tavern?)

YolGoraagSingh

(Are we in the same tavern?)

(idk, Falin and Aksel are in the tavern that Axelia and Emily just came into)

(I think you're in a different one since it's pretty chill where everyone else is)

Aksel peeked over to Falin to see a document. She wouldn't have come here by herself. It's freezing out here! Unless she was wanted here...she's after what I'm after! Aksel pushed the cup away, paid the bartender, and went upstairs to wait out the storm.

Makor holds the bartenders closly as he continues telling tales, the bartenders laugh as they both kiss him on the cheek and walk away, they continue to laugh.

Emily sat down at a table and set down her glass of wine while she rumadged through her satchel, that was slun around her shoulder under her cloak, and eventually pulled out a map spreading it out on the table.

Falin let out a quiet sigh as a plume of smoke left her mouth. She ignored the looked from the nearby Nords. She couldn't stand the smell of tobacco smoke. Or burning plant matter in general. However she never shot dirty looks at a Nord enjoying his pipe. They could just suck it up and deal with the bugsmoke for now.

Her eyes followed the two women that entered the inn. Both of them had hair like fire, though one was considerably more wild and unkempt than the other. Ignoring the curious stares from the one she went back to focusing on her pipe.