As the group had arrived, they had lingered on the borders of the small town at first, so as to not scare the locals. With the size of their group, they may have feared the War, or even bandits, had finally arrived at their sleepy village. However, as word passed through the villagers about who they were, and what their purpose was in this part of Skyrim, they were looked on with more favourable eyes. The innkeeper the Braidwood Inn had even come out to the borders, offering free ale and food, if they chose to stay in the inn.
Leo had been looking forward to a warm bed, a decent meal, and perhaps even a local girl – but Niko had other plans. As the de facto leader of the group, he’d stated that before anyone rested, the burial mound should be looked over, and a strategy was to be set up.
“I’ll pass on the hike up the hill and the sparring match.” Leo began with a lazy grin, hefting his bag from his shoulders and sitting on the dusty ground of the road, leaning back and using his knapsack as a pillow. “Can’t see how either of those things will help us with a freaking dragon. Our best bet is to just come straight at it, swords a’ swinging.”
“Great idea. We’ve leave it to you then.” Niko stated dryly, kicking his couchant cousin in the ribs as he walked towards Valerion. “Sparring sounds smart at this stage, Valerion – just try not to injure anyone, okay? We just need to see what everyone is capable of. The witches from earlier didn’t really help us out on that front.” He said in a low tone to their very own Lich King. Niko had to be honest – the guy was growing on him. He wasn’t inherently evil or psychotic like a lot of Necromancers that he had run into in the past – he just had this off-putting aura about him. The daunting – yet epic – armour and weapons didn’t exactly help his image, but they were certainly a deterrent for any bandits who assumed they’d gotten lucky in finding such a large group out in the wilderness. As for the witches that he had just mentioned – although normally quite a difficult enemy to defeat, especially with one of those hideous Hagravens on a leash – they had been decimated fairly easily by the group. The vast numbers of them probably overwhelmed their three foes, but it didn’t really help much in terms of knowing who could do what. Some of the group hadn’t even bothered to approach the hut; either too scared, or just trusting that those in the vanguard could take care of it with ease. If anyone acted like that in front of a damn dragon, they would be doomed before they even began attacking.
Dropping his bag by his winded – and scowling – cousin, Niko walked towards the front fringes of the group; close to the mine on the edge of the village, the path leading to the ancient mound sat there. It was about an hour away from the village, and Delphine had headed up there as soon as they had arrived. Glancing around, he took in the group. Faire had already left, with her new Altmer ‘’friend’’ staying behind; Val didn’t look particularly thrilled that Faire had disappeared. Thinking on her words, Niko wondered silently if she would really turn up. Perhaps she thought that their cause was a lost one, and they would all perish fighting the dragon. Being the only ones knowing of her rare existence, that would prove to be most favourable for Faire. But then again, even from the scant conversation that had taken place between himself and Faire, Niko found it hard to believe that she would abandon them. She did, after all, give him plenty of information on dragons. Possible weak spots, their fire breath range... things that would aid them in survival. He just hoped that she would show.
However, his musings were brought up short as they were hailed by a newcomer – a Dunmer, wearing a most curious armour.
[i]“Gods, Leo’s going to be drooling over that.”[/i] Niko thought to himself as he approached the bowing elf. At a closer look, he appeared to be beyond his more nubile years – not what you’d call elderly, but certainly approaching that title.
“Greetings. I’m Nikolaus Aliksen – feel free to call me just Niko.” He began, smiling at Evos. Despite the Dunmer’s age, it was clear he was a seasoned warrior – and a devout one at that, going by what he had stated during his introduction. “We don’t really have a proper leader, but people are looking to me for the time being, so I suppose I’m in charge for now.” Niko paused at this, glancing up at the path before him, and then back to Evos. “I’m sure you’d like to meet the group, but perhaps you can accompany me on the walk up to the mound? It’s not too far – and we can talk on the way there.” He added. As the title of Leader was very likely to be bestowed on him, what with his calmer, diplomatic stance on things – the whole issue with the sudden and violent arrival of Faire being a perfect example of this – he had taken to talking with everyone in the group. Although it hadn’t been much in the way of conversations, he’d been able to weigh up certain judgments on the different characters in the group; especially the newcomers; Ildrun, Faire, Val, and now Evos. He was certainly curious about the Mer; his armour, his lance, and his affiliation with Azura. Although it was common knowledge that Azura was one of three Daedra that the Dunmer usually worshipped – the other two being Boethiah and Mephala – the way he gave her name ‘’Lady of Roses’’ seemed to be in a more reverent tone than just a regular believer.



Despite her common sense practically screaming at her, only two thoughts had been running through Rozalia’s mind for the past week – How the dragon encounter was going to go, and how she was going to kill the Thalmor. 
Ever since that bastard’s arrival, her mind had not stopped obsessing over the various ways of getting rid of him. In some ways, it had certainly helped – especially in her nightly training sessions with Rawlith. He had been an excellent and patient teacher for her. Before, she had barely been able to keep a flame going other than just for a source for light and heat – now, she was able to set up a steady stream of it. In less than a week, she was able to actually kill someone with fire. And in her mind, that someone was always the Thalmor. Within the camp, she was aware that plenty of rumours had arisen, what with Rawlith and herself sneaking off every night - whether they trusted each other or not, she knew they enjoyed to gossip. It seemed to be prevalent among groups larger than one. She ignored any hushed comments, instead focusing on the group’s goals, or her own, personal ones. She noticed that Val liked to hang around the Snow Elf – a shame. She would have liked to talk to Faire sometime. It would be awe-inspiring, talking to someone as old as that.
But for now, that would have to wait. The group had reached the borders of Kynesgrove, and there they would stay until Niko returned from the mound. Standing with Rawlith, as usual, she glanced at her Khajiit companion. She’d trusted him from the get-go, and their relationship had grown over the past week. She’d come to see him as a friend, one she could depend on. And it was for that reason she was sure he had noticed her reactions to the Thalmor in their group. Although her emotions were certainly wild every time she heard or saw the slimy, faithless bastard, her face kept composure for the most part. Not that Roze had brought it up at all – she wasn’t one to talk about her past, or negative feelings. Rather than dwell on her negative thoughts, she turned towards Rawlith, her mind switching from one problem to another; the whole reason they were here.
“Hey Rawlith...” She began, tugging one of her curls, as she did when she was nervous about something. “Do you think we’ll really be able to take on a dragon?”