Sun set and with it came a chilled breeze. Perhaps it wouldn't have seemed as cold if Aderyn were by himself – instead of with her. Why was Nardhil being played into this part of his life? Why now? Why ever? Deciding to press on, he'd just have to make the best of it.
The return journey from Chorrol had been fairly peaceful, and they had profited from slitting highway-jiit's purses after being "charged" to travel on "their" roads. Each and every time brought smiles to both their faces when they were fairly far down the road, and the yells and curses shouted from the bandit Khajiits reached their ears.
Nardhil's disposition towards him had improved since when he'd first seen her back at the Oak and Crosier two nights ago, and since then she hadn't seemed as bad as when he'd last remembered. Her eyes weren't quite so large; her skin appeared more a warm violet than an actual rotting ash yam purple; and her touch, since when she last helped ease his well earned, and well deserved, headache, was quite… pleasing. Maybe she wasn't that bad.
Nevertheless, the slightest hint of fondness growing in Aderyn shattered, her strident voice interrupting the appreciated silence. "Why did you leave the guild?" That wasn't a question Aderyn felt quite comfortable answering, especially when she asked it. His brows furrowed and teeth clenched. Nardhil noted these things and continued on in silence. Whatever it was, Aderyn must have dealt with some sort of great pain.
After several long, awkward moments, Aderyn took in a deep breath and looked at her with a weary gaze. "Let's just say I caused a lot of hurt to a lot of people." She nodded, understanding he wasn't ready to fully reveal his reasons to her.
Secunda and Masser rose high into the bleary sky, shrouded in darkness, their faint outlines behind moving clouds dim and unclear. A weak charge was in the air. Rolls of thunder sounded in the distance, gradually working their way outward from the Abecean Sea, and spreading across the Gold Coast like a dark and obscuring hand. A hard, freezing rain fell on Aderyn and Nardhil, thankfully not sooner, as they passed a fair inn nestled off to the right in the small of a thicket.
A simple two story building, Gottshaw Inn, and hosted by a stout Bosmer, offered bedding and meals. After renting them each separate rooms for the night, the Bosmer, Foroch was his name, invited Aderyn and Nardhil to sit down at the bar and converse with him.
"It's not often I get guests in here" he started off into the possible reasons why the place lacked a certain… fullness. "Mostly they're just passersby on their way to Anvil. Or they stop at the more commonly known Brina Cross Inn a little ways up Gold Road and stop there for a visit. That cursed Christophe Marane." Foroch focused tensely at the lackluster fire aside to his right, the feigning embers reflecting in his eyes. His face began to redden.
All of the sudden a crash of lightning struck nearby. Either at the same time or slightly afterwards – for an uncountable and rather instantaneous time had passed – Foroch shouted, seemingly provoked by it, or else was simply angry with the esteemed proprietor of the Brina Cross Inn. His words, while muffled by the loud clash, were clearly audible, uttering something about voluptuous Betty Netches. Aderyn and Nardhil chuckled, the sight of the ridiculous Bosmer, his incessant clinging to a large red leather backed book, a humorous one indeed. The lightning had frightened him.
"Mara preserve us!" Foroch whispered as another thunderous clap sounded, his shivering figure rattling the stool he sat upon.
"What book do you have there?" Aderyn noticed letters of unique design along its spine, several raised bands intermittently breaking up the wording.
"Oh this?" Foroch placed the book back onto the counter – The Last King of the Ayleids it read. "It's just a small keepsake I personally find comfort in. It tells of the last of the Ayleids, as seen by its name. But more specifically of their last ki…" his words were interrupted by another crash of lightning. He leapt out of his chair, cradling the book to his bosom. "Oh! Good heavens. I'm sorry my friends, but this storm is getting to me. I hope your stay here is pleasant. Now if you'll excuse me." With that, both Aderyn and Nardhil found their way up the stairs and to their bedrooms, and when awaking the next morning fairly rested, despite the torrential weathering conditions.
--
Even though snow would not fall in the southwest, rain felt frozen as it pelted Aderyn and Nardhil. Grateful for at last reaching Anvil, they bolted towards the guild, taking cover within. Noon's sun was now high in the sky, but no sign showed as darkened clouds blocked out the pleaded and greatly wished for warmth. And a great wind arose from the sea and blew across the land, adding to the already frigid climate.
Aderyn, comfortably nestled beside the second story's fireplace, privately informed Azzan of the reason for his sudden departure and return. Azzan pondered over Aderyn's words. This news was indeed distressing, and action must be taken. But something wasn't adding up. They needed more information, though the knowledge of how to attain it repeatedly escaped them.
Pushing aside the hindered knowledge, another issue now needing to be taking care, he told Azzan of Modryn's orders. Azzan chuckled, but did have of a particular task come to mind. Earlier that day there had been an enthusiastic Altmer wishing for protection while traveling through some rumored abandoned Daedric Shrine, though she wasn't sure. Aderyn accepted the job and went to find Nardhil.
Meanwhile, Nardhil quickly took to one of Anvil's Fighter Guild members, Llensi Llaram, a female Dunmer, sailor, and practiced warrior. For several minutes they discussed many different things, such as: the open sea, life in the Fighter's Guild (more from Llensi than Nardhil), life in Morrowind (once again, more from Llensi), and finally ending with odd bits of training techniques. Nardhil demonstrated a few methods not quite natural to the "untrained", as she so strongly declared– claiming to have picked them up when visiting the arena, and then practicing them in her own time or with her father before he passed on to Aetherius.
Aderyn found the pair discussing this, but, while impressed with the knowledge Nardhil displayed to Llensi – Nardhil had slowly walked her through a few of her own improvised moves – their task had been set. Nardhil nodded, bidding Llensi farewell and good luck.
"What's our mission?" Aderyn waited to be out of earshot from the guild.
"We're to protect a wandering scholar, Elante of Alinor." He rolled his eyes. Yet another baby-sitting job.
"From what?"
Aderyn looked at her and shrugged. "It's an old Daedric Shrine. Gods' know only what dangers may lurk in those demented depths. Though, it's supposedly deserted. But I think there's something she's not telling us." So with that they headed to the north and west of Kvatch, seeking out this purported scholar.
