When I was on the road with my Dragonborn, I was attacked by 2 identical looking female Redguard bandits. I nicknamed them "The Sisters" and developed a story.
Disclaim disclaim disclaim disclaim. Tes, not me, Bethesda. And their names are from Mark Lawrence's Broken Empire. (King Olidan's wife and a star.)(Read his books. They are great.)
Enjoy.
"I'm so cold, Sari," cried Saiph. The eleven-year-old Redguard looked half frozen.
Sareth was desperate. They had run from their home in Hammerfell when the Thalmor came and ended in a snowstorm in Skyrim. She had no idea how and why. "Shh, Saiph. We'll be out of the storm soon, I promise you. Let's go."
"I can't. I'm tired and cold and hungry." She just sat down.
For a brief moment Sareth wanted to leave her sister, who was two years younger, behind. But then she sighed and hugged Saiph. "I miss Mother and Father", the younger girl said.
"Me too. I wish they were here. Do you think you can go on?"
"Just a minute, please."
"Okay." The wind bit in their skin even through the furs. Sareth squeezed her eyes shut and prayed to Ruptga the storm would end. But maybe he had no power in this land of ice and snow. She remembered the Alik'r desert. Yellow, white and brown sands wherever she looked, the heat filling her body…
"Sari! Sari, wake up!"
"What?" She was startled. "Oh no…I think I fell asleep. We have to go on. Come, Saiph."
And they went on. They walked and walked until Saiph just collapsed. "Saiph. Saiph. Saiph!" Sareth screamed against the wind. "Stand up! Come on!"
"She needs a fire", a voice behind her said. Sareth looked up. There were men and women of all races, ten, maybe fifteen, standing around them. She hadn't heard them. She hardly heard her own voice.
"Can you help Saiph?", she asked. Some of them looked not very friendly. They all carried weapons.
"We don't help strangers on the road", one of them said. He was a big Nord, clad in fur and steel. He grinned. Sareth didn't like his grin. "Not for a thank-you."
"We don't have money." Her belly felt like there was a big hole in it. "Please." Please go. Please don't ask for money. Please help us anyway. Please don't kill us.
"There are other ways of payme-" The grinning Nord was slapped by another person. He – or she – wore thick steel armour with a winged helmet.
A female voice. "You look strong", Steel-Armour said. She drew her sword. "We are a, hm, brotherhood. Once you are with us, it's for life." She offered the sword to Sareth, hilt first. "Only one chance. It's your choice."