Teldryn watched the stranger enter The Retching Netch and take an empty seat at the bar, face hidden by a cowl. The Dunmer sat up a little. He'd seen a few characters in his time, and this one piqued his curiosity. His ears strained at her conversation. Her accent was very foreign; like nothing he'd ever heard. The closest he could liken it to was Nibenese, though the way she formed some of her vowels left him unsure. Evidently, she'd hired a room; Geldris led the way, the stranger stalking after him.

When the barman arrived back up, Teldryn moved over to take the seat she'd previously had at the bar.

"You seen her 'round before?" he asked, nodding to the closed door.

"Nope," Geldris replied. "But I think she'll be hanging around for a while. One of those types that seem to be on serious business, you know? Dunno what she looks like. She better not be any trouble."

Not one to miss an opportunity to make some money, Teldryn leant forward on his elbows. "I can make sure she doesn't," he said, "for a fee, of course."

"Nice try, but I ain't payin' you for nothing."

"I can try. Did you find out her name?"

"Lutah de Wijn."

Teldryn scoffed. "Breton? As if that's her real name. Too tall."

"Doesn't really matter to me. She paid so well I couldn't care if her name was Ulfric Stormcloak. If you're looking for a patron, I'd venture she'd have enough coin for three of you. Assuming she needs you, of course." Geldris cocked an eyebrow.

The mercenary chuckled. "I might just try that. She looks like a pistol, too."

"Careful! She could end up being an Orc for all you know!"

Over the next few days, Teldryn watched 'Lutah' come and go from the Netch, and though he knew his face was concealed he couldn't shake the feeling that she knew he was watching her. Apparently, she'd been investigating around Raven Rock and asking about a man named 'Miraak'. Sometimes she'd be gone for days at a time. It unsettled him. He felt like she knew a lot more than she was letting on.

One night, instead of going straight to her room, she took a seat at one of the tables, propping her feet up on a chair. Teldryn thought the timing right and pulled up a chair opposite her.

"May I buy you a drink, milady?"

She turned to look at him, her eyes reflecting the dull light from the Netch. Her face was concealed by a black cowl with the image of a bird on it.

"No, thank-you." she said simply, and looked away.

Not one to be deterred, he continued. "Perhaps I started off on the wrong foot. Teldryn Sero," he extended his hand. "Mercenary-for-hire."

"Yes, I have heard of you," she said, shaking his hand. "Are all Dunmer so forward?"

"Not usually, no. I'm just curious, is all."

"About what?"

"You're the talk of the town, nowadays. It's been a long time since any outlander has made such an impression."

"Oh, I'm flattered," she said very politely. "Mostly I just mind my own business."

That shut Teldryn up. He held his hands up defensively. "Alright, I get it. Can't blame me for trying to be nice."

Her brow twitched. "No, you can't really," she murmured sardonically. She rose, chair squeaking back, before taking her leave downstairs, leaving a bewildered Teldryn at the table. Geldris laughed.

"Rejected?" he leered. Teldryn made a rude gesture.