Ralos returned to Dragonsreach expecting everyone to be waiting for him. What else did they have to do that was more important? To his surprise, however, the only person in the throne room was Balgruuf's brother Hrongar. The warrior was sitting at the dining table cleaning his fingernails with a dagger. Ralos hoped it was not the same one he had seen him eating with the last time they were in town.

"Hrongar," Ralos said, joining him at the table, "where the Hells is everyone?"

"It's pronounced, 'Ron-gar'. The 'H' is silent."

"That's what I said, Hrongar."

"No, 'ron-gar'."

"Hrongar."

"Ron. Gar."

"Hrongar."

"Why are you saying the 'H'? It is silent. Just don't say it."

"Then why is it there, Hrongar."

"There you go again. You should not upset a living weapon, you know. Perhaps you have a speech impediment?"

"I do not have a speech impediment," Ralos said, "Perhaps you have a name impediment."

"Oh, good comeback, Dovahkiin. The only time two 'i's should be together is on a face."

Ralos stood up. "That's it. I think I should put my fist together with your face."

Hrongar kicked his chair away as he stood. "Let's have a go, Dragonboy. You can use your extra 'i' to watch me kick your a.."

"What in High Rothgar is going on here?"

Ralos glanced towards the stairs behind the throne. Jarl Balgruuf entered the room trailed by Lydia and Irileth.

Hrongar held out his arms, "I have no idea. I was merely sitting here when the Thane picked a fight with me."

"That's a steaming pile of Farengar," Ralos said, noticing the wizard also enter the room. "I can't help it if your name is spelled hwrong."

Hrongar unsheathed the greatsword from his back, "Insolence!"

Ralos readied his Unrelenting Shout.

"Enough!" Balgruuf yelled. "I'll not have brothers fighting under my roof."

"And in case you've forgotten, my Thane," said Lydia, "we're supposed to be on our way to rescue someone."

Ralos could feel the dragonblood roaring in his veins made more potent from the skooma he had just taken. He despised the thought of becoming reliant on the drug again but he welcomed the feeling of power it gave him. He wanted nothing more than to shout a hole through this fool's chest.

Hrongar backed down first. He sheathed his sword. "As you say, brother," he looked back at Ralos, "There will be another time for this." He walked away towards the kitchen.

Ralos stared at the man's back until he felt a swat to the side of his head. He turned to find his wife standing next to him. The surprise cuff shook him from his trance. It took him a long moment to recall why he had been ready to fight in the first place.

"Are you ready to leave?" Lydia said. "Or should I get you some oil so you two could wrestle?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Ralos asked.

Lydia turned thoughtful. "Actually..."

Irileth cleared her throat, "I would not object, either. There are precedents for such actions."

"Bah!" Ralos said, "You women only have one thing on your minds... me! If you two are finished donning fresh underthings and exchanging recipes, we have a villain to catch."

"What?" Lydia said, "But we've been waiting for you."

"No more of your excuses. Time is currency." Ralos clapped his hands together and headed upstairs to the training landing.

Irileth gripped the sword at her belt tighter. "Honestly, Lydia. How do you not want to take his head off?"

"Who says I don't? Come on, let's go before he bellows and wakes the whole keep."

The two women joined Ralos on the Dragonsreach's broad balcony. Jarl Balgruuf had already cleared everyone out, including himself, so the sight of a dragon would not send anyone screaming. The sky outside was clear. A perfect day for flying.

"You're sure the dragon won't mind another passenger?" Irileth asked. "I could draw you a quick map, if need be."

"Pohrkisdahl will do as I say," Ralos said, "A dragon would not risk his honor so nor show a display of weakness as to carrying just three people. Now hush, you're going and that's final."

Irileth's knuckles cracked on her sword's hilt. "As you say, Thane."

Ralos nodded then turned towards the sky. He took a deep breath then shouted, "Pohr-Kis-Dahl!" The words, however, did not come out as expected.

Irileth scoffed, "I could have done that. Perhaps better."

"Hush, woman!" Ralos shouted. "Something is wrong. Something is very wrong." He took another deep breath. "Pohr-Kis-Dahl!" His shout was merely a shout. "Fus-Ro-Dah!" Only words. There was no power behind them.

Ralos felt his knees go weak and he stumbled forward until he leaned on a table for support. His heart was pounding and this time it was not from the skooma.

"What's wrong, Ralos," Lydia said, putting her hands on his shoulders.

He looked at her, his eyes wide. "It's gone," he whispered. "That motherless bastard stole my thuum."