To say Nelacar was displeased to see Torina was an understatement.

"I'm in the middle of delicate research," the altmer complained. "What is it that you want?"

"I have a puzzle for you, Nelacar," Torina said, pulling a chair up to sit at his little table.

"Puzzles are more your speed, as I recall."

"Oh, stop whining," Torina said. "I'm seeking information, not action. I have a question on souls and daedra, and you were the first to come to mind."

Nelacar's already frowning lips deepened and he rolled his eyes. "Oh, praise the divines, that you thought of me."

"Don't pretend you're not at least a little interested," Torina said.

She withdrew one of the books she found in the Forgotten Vale she intended on bringing to Urag at the college. Even though her past with the mages at the College of Winterhold were mixed at best, she'd always gotten along with Urag in the Arcanaeum. Being blood-kin before entering his sanctum certainly had helped her there. Nelacar's eyes widened considerably when he saw the first few pages.

"I haven't ever seen this language before," he whispered.

When he held out a hand to grab it from her, Torina pulled it back. She wagged a finger on her other hand. "I'll keep hold of this, thank you. It belongs at the college where it will be taken care of properly."

Nelacar's thin lips pinched at that subtle slight against him. Torina knew he was unwelcome at the college for his prior misdeeds, but he recognized she was giving him the chance now to see them before they'd be blocked from him for another age, at least. Her eyes wandered slightly as the altmer greedily flipped through page by page in the book.

The room in the Frozen Hearth was just as neatly kept as she remembered. It seemed the years between her visits here had not changed much about Nelecar's life. That forced her to realize how much she had changed since working with him to retrieve and corrupt Azura's star.

Freshly escaped from her former mistress, and the Helgen disaster, and hoping to join the college - hopes dashed not long after - she was desperate for anything that might give her a bit more power over those who might try to capture her. Most of her life before that moment was spent at the feet of one jailor or another. Being Dragonborn hadn't meant freedom for her in the slightest. Azura's star seemed like an easy opportunity and a chance to get back at a daedra she felt like had abandoned her many times before.

Though she wasn't proud of that now, she wouldn't change her choice. A refilling soul gem was priceless when it kept her weapons charged and made her enchantments stronger. She'd deal with Azura's ire when the time came.

Before leaving the island of Castle Volkihar, she'd changed into her ebony armor for the trek from Hjaalmarch all the way to Winterhold, using Arvak as often as she dared to cross the northernmost path along the Sea of Ghosts. Her helmet rested on the table next to her. She knew she stuck out like a sore thumb in her armor here, a veritable fortune's worth of equipment in a town that could barely be called a hold capital, rife with poverty and strife apart from the college. But, her reputation preceded her and she passed without comment through the streets. Word of what happened at Volkihar hadn't reached this far yet, which she was grateful for. The last thing she would need were chatty guards wanting to ask what happened in great detail.

On her trek the half-trapped dragon Durnehviir proved very useful in any extra protection she needed as well as providing word of the vampire's in his home realm. Though he provided little detail in the moments he could stand in Mundus, he did keep her hopes up of their eventual return. He seemed more than slightly jealous which likely fueled the minimal information he provided. Torina couldn't fault him for it.

Nelacar flipped through the pages, his eyes scanning quickly. The gold in his irises was full of wonder and steely determination when he looked up at her. "Where did you get this?"

"Deep in some Dwarven ruins near Markarth," she lied easily.

"It's astounding. Why would you bring it to me?" he asked Torina, shrewdness in his gaze. He leaned back away from her and the book reluctantly as she tucked it back into her knapsack.

"I told you, I need information on souls and daedra," she replied. Pushing her hair out of her face, she tied a leather strip into it to hold it out of her face. "I wanted to show you somehow that it's not a fool's errand and that you'll be compensated for your assistance in some way. Gold. Information."

"If you've come to me instead of speaking to the Conjuration Master at the college then this must be illicit."

Torina's mouth soured into a toothy snarl. "Urag is the only mer or man worth the dirt on my shoes in that place. The college mages can lick a skeever's arse end for all I care."

That surprised a bark of laughter out of Nelacar. "Noted. You know they would accept you with open arms now after all you've done. Word travels fast, even to places as far north as Winterhold."

"Tch. I repeat, those uptight mages can-"

"I heard you the first time," Nelacar said with another chuckle. "Fine. What are your questions? I can't promise you I will have the answers but I will do my best to help you."

"That's all I ask of you," Torina said. She pushed away her annoyance at the college and pressed forward. "Is your experience with the daedra limited strictly to Azura?"

"Thankfully my personal experience is only with her, yes."

"Hmm. Count yourself lucky."

Nelacar stared at Torina over his mug with narrowed eyes. He didn't comment on that half-cryptic message, however, and for that Torina mentally thanked him.

"My concerns lie with the dwemer, actually," she said after a time.

"They didn't have anything to do with the daedra," Nelacar interrupted.

Leaning forward on the table, Torina pointed a finger towards him and smirked. "But that's where you're wrong. They acknowledged their existence but mocked or ignored them. That's far from nothing."

Nelacar pinched his lips and folded his hands in his lap, crossing his legs at the ankles below the table. His feet went underneath her chair where she'd lifted her legs to sit with her legs crossed over one another.

"I'll concede that you have a point. Does this have anything to do with the book you've brought me? Did you find something else in that dwarven ruin?"

Torina wondered how best to breach the subject she really wanted to discuss. She checked to make sure the door was shut tightly to the room before casting a modified muffle spell, layering the wall and door with the magic instead of herself. Nelecar raised an eyebrow at that but simply waited to hear what she had to say. She definitely had his attention, exactly what she wanted.

"This book was written by snow elves, Nelacar. The falmer."


I'm honestly not a huge fan of the Altmer in general, but adding Nelacar to this story made me smirk each time I got to make him snarky. Which is basically always. Do you think he'll be able to help her?