'Gol'diir? He's your father? Is he alive? And yes, I am Sauriil Adorin, Nerevarine, Immortal of Akatosh.'

"Gold, where has he been?!"

(How long is this story ater The Immortals? If it's over 130, he's dead.)

"Well, welcome to my safehouse, everyone. Continute with your meetings and things, I'll go cook and gather supplies." She greets everyone, before stalking to the supply area, rummaging around a few things as the others converse.

"What happened to me?"

"What do you mean, Khajiit?" I ask, "Oh, and by the way, my name is Titani'aam, but call me Titan."

"I was poisoned?"

She walks into the room, several small bowls, a ladle, and a pot of stew with various meets and whatnot in it, in her arms. She sets them down, passing out the bowls and spoons.

"Alright, everyone, get yourself a bowl, but make it last! If I see anyone getting seconds before I say so, you're out of the safehouse. Understand?"

"Got it," I respond, digging in slowly.

"Okay mom."

*I slowly sip my stew.*

"Oi, not my fault the Dragonborn was defeated by Alduin." She glares at the man.

"We need to ration our food. Only leave when necessary. I've also heard of something called the Psijic Order, which may or may not be trying to create something to protect our souls from Alduin's hunger. Just a rumor, but I'd be willing to do anything to get where they are at, which is rumored to be somewhere in Akavir."

"Yeah, if you listen to skeevers all day."

*I glare back at the woman with hate in my eyes.*

She sighs at him, the fool obviously not wanting to live.

"No, it was former sailors that told me, a few weeks ago. They had a mage with them... They're all dead now. I don't care what you all say, the only way to truly survive is to find this Psijic Order."

"Or hunt, drink, and survive until you die of old age, we could live that way too."

"Only for Alduin to devour our souls in the afterlife. What's the point of surviving in this life if our souls get eaten later on?"