The Argonian known as Numtvee Caynes or as her newfound companions in the Dragon’s Eye knew her as Followed By Night. Night as most ended up calling her not wanting to waste the time saying her full name eyes were focused in the distance towards Falkreath. The Great forest of pines at first was nothing more than a few dotting the pathway here and there. But now it was as if they were entering a sea of pine that stretched out far into the distance. She had known a Nord from Falkreath once. Bled like a stuck pig he did on the side of the Gold Road and he whined like a newborn hatchling looking for its birthmother. He did eventually quite down when Night sunk her blade into his throat they all usually did quiet down after that.

Night had her own share of experiences traveling through the rugged north that was Skyrim. She was not necessarily a fan of the ancestral homeland of the Nords. It was a land she found of constant frost and snow, and when it was not snow it was rain and heavy storms of thunder and lighting. The people were all closed minded thinkers even by Argonian standards and they were dead set in their traditional ways. It was nothing that she didn't expect from the races of Men but it was a bore still the same. Though the social climate of the land might be much different than what it was when she last visited. More people angered and spurred on by the words of Sidonis to come and join his glorious revolution against the races of Mer. And his words did hit home with many it seemed for as they walked the path towards Falkreath it was never without the occasional recruit from the new Alessian Empire, some were old veterans haggard by war and others were young bloods barely old enough to hold a sword yet alone participate in the massacre of an entire people. They came in all shapes and sizes some of them were of Men and others were of Beast such as herself the occasional kinsman walking down the path where Night would give them a knowing look and maybe if they were feeling polite a traditional greeting. But most of the time they just pushed forward to heed the call of Sidonis.

Her breath was visible on the air if only barely and it seemed as if somewhere along the way to Falkreath the northern winds had taken hold and replaced a generally mild cyrodiilic summer. Having just came from spending the past year in the Anequina Badlands where the only thing that did not sweat was the dead, guarding a merchant caravan before the Thalmor contacted her. So the cold winds of the north seemed almost like too much of a good thing for the Argonian mercernary. Though when she came to Cyrodiil the heart of the once glorious empire it seemed as if it was slowly become a vestigial one. The people in chaos and slowly losing territory and men everyday. The one proud imperial legion to her eyes know seemed to be taking anyone with a pulse to prevent the fall of the Empire and Tameril as a whole. It reminded her of the Dunmer and their state after the Argonian Expansion the same hollowed and distant expression on the faces of the peasantry.

As they neared the Falkreath border which was marked by the evidence of the mass exodus of Mer as they fled from Alessian clutches into the “safety” of Cyrodiil. The remains of carts and wagons left on the side of the road where they had broken down, the occasional lose flask or fallen piece of linen. From refugees not caring about things lost just trying their best to get away before the Alessian soldiers came through. Some of the refugees they had passed had given Night looks of anger. Something that was to be expected being what she was and their history with the races of Mer she would expected no love from the people she was hired to save. When they past the mad priest raving on the side of the road, Night payed little attention to him as he chanted about the fires of Oblivion coming to destroy them all. People like that were expected by Night in that retrospect having met the occasional mad doomsayer in her time. Most of them were common in Morrowind mad Dunmer that would come running out of the woods telling how the Tribunal had abandoned them and that the darkness was soon to come and wipe them all out, they would still chant their prophecies of doom as the Argonian soldiers ran their blades through them. 

The other small group they had passed the Bosmer refugees trying to escape the reach of Sidonis’ grasp was also familiar to Night. Those displaced by bandits, warlords, or more predominantly in her memory Argonian war parties. They would sit on the side of the road in a state of shock most of them women and children covered in the blood of maybe their sons or brothers or fathers that had tried to defend them and were cut down in response. Their villages burned to the ground and their homes sacked and looted. Sometimes the cries of a child would anger an officer too much. One would be surprised how easily the skull of a Dunmer child is crushed under the clawed foot of one of her kind when the right amount of pressure is applied. It was like an egg.. [i]crush.[/i]

Taking a deep breath she tried her best to think of anything else to not allow herself to be caught in the memories of a life she left behind. So she brought her thoughts to that of her traveling companions, the rest of the so called Dragon’s Eye. Volunteers the most of them, maybe some were hired out like her by larger interested parties but still mostly just able bodied warriors with a death wish it seemed. There was the Altmer the one that had the ability to seemingly blind into any crowd not a skill one just learned from playing Conceal and Search as a child. Though how he carried himself presented at least a semblance of experience so she could respect that. Next was the Dunmer, one of the mages the little group had in their midst. Night had a feeling that the Dunmer did not like her or at least did not trust her. She of course could not blame him for such misconceptions for in any other situation she would be gladly running her blade through his pompous behind. Even when they were exiled from their own homeland by a bunch of lizards they were still an arrogant punch it seems. 
 
Next of course was one that would be very hard to forget. The other mage and the one that was as mad as Sheogorath himself. Though judging from their encounter with the wolves earlier on the road.. their was at least a reason they kept him around. Night had no real trouble with him though his mad ramblings did seem to never stop and were always finding new ways to confuse her brain. After that was the Forsworn lass nothing more than a hatchling really. Dressed in garb that was to say... traditional of the Forsworn she drew the eyes of many passerby on the road. Though they for the most part chose not to say anything maybe due to the large great sword strapped to her back and the look about her that she knew how to use it. Night had fought against the Forsworn once part of a band of mercenaries hired out by the nobles of Markarth to deal with a camp of them that had been getting too aggressive of late. They were strong and admirable fighters though they died just the same, some might argue even quicker due to the simple furs they choose to protect themselves with. Then there was the one talking to her, having the general appearance of a Breton did not talk but much like the others seemed to show an air of experience around him. Night couldn't make any other observation really about him just yet though. 

Last was the Redguard women who from first looked could be notched down as a experienced warrior. Night like most of her people had developed a begrudging respect for the warriors of Hammerfell, a contingent of them had been hired out by the Dunmer during the later half of the offensive to try and hold the line against Argonia’s advance. They fought better than any of the knife ears ever could. They tore through Argonian lines but their was only so many of them that the Dunmer had hired and they too were eventually overpowered. But they left many dead Argonians in their wake and because of it the Argonian military has developed respect towards the warriors even going as far as to hire out a few of them to go to Black Marsh to help with the training of new recruits. In Argonia respect was made through power and combat the weak got nowhere and the Redguards had shown themselves as far from weak. It was around then that the Redguard women spoke about and Night heard her speak and she was right. Skyrim’s border would soon be upon them and before they reached it they all had to find a way through. Night nodded in agreement as they walked her tail swishing behind her. “Hopefully we all get where we need to go without any unpleasantries from the Alessian’s along the border. I've heard that they are not too fond of outsiders even if they are just traveling through.” Not too found being an understatement with the Empire’s agents explaining to them before they set out that they had sent in spies before and when they were found out they would be returned to the Imperial City in a bag.