The old man seemed to take Syndelius' words into consideration, mumbling something about how he thought that they were sitting on top of one. The priest who had been rambling on about the gods abandoning them from the top of the large black rock seemed to think that the old man was enlightened, though what that said about the priest was really yet to be seen. Almost at once, however, the eyes of the crowd darted to the old man to see if he had any words of wisdom of his own to share with them. With the tension in the air from the current events, it was really no wonder that the people latched onto the words of a doomsayer to explain everything. They needed something to believe after all.

The Thalmor agent that was a part of the squad pulled out some documents, explaining that they were their orders for the Falkreath mission before passing them around to the members of the squad. Syndelius nodded along as he read the details of what they were to do. Nothing in the documents were all that surprising given the circumstances, though he hadn't been aware of an impending Legion attack on the hold. Once he had finished reading the documents, he folded them and tucked them into his belt pouch, having been the last to read over them.

Considering the fact that they were to enter the city one at a time, Syndelius figured that he would stay out on the road for a little while longer enjoying the pleasant breeze and the shade of the tall evergreen trees. It would probably be a good idea to see if he could gain any valid information from the refugees before entering the city itself. It wasn't likely that he would get anything good from the refugees, but there might be a pattern in their rumors that would help him find what he was looking for once he got into the city itself.

“What goes on in the city, traveler?” he asked an approaching Bosmer with bright green eyes and brown hair, though whether it was dirty or naturally that color was hard to distinguish. He jumped at first, clutching tightly to the bag in his arms before he realized that he was looking at a fellow Mer and relaxed a little.

“The Alessian's are getting torch-happy from what I've heard,” he responded with an involuntary shudder. “Anything and everything that belongs to an Elf is liable to get burned, and that includes the bodies of the Elves themselves. That's why I've packed up and left. I'm not staying around until its too late, whatever my idiotic brother says.” He didn't wait for another question or response, instead stalking off, his fear momentarily replaced with fury and indignation.

The next individual wasn't very helpful, what with her claims that the Alessians were killing every Elf in the streets and devouring the children. Nor was the next, as they claimed that the Alessians were tearing Elves limb from limb in the comfort of their own homes. Basically dozens of rumors over the exact actions of the Alessians, though it was a common feature that their target was anyone of Elvish blood. 

Another feature that seemed to show up more often than not was that the atrocities were taking place in either the prison or the basement of the Jarl's Longhouse. Syndelius doubted the latter, but it would certainly be worth checking out the prison if he could. Regardless, it gave him a bit of direction as he pulled up his hood and made his way towards the city.

The guards at the gate certainly posed a problem, as they would never let someone into the city if they had a hood covering their face like Syndelius did. Well, not unless they were complete idiots, and Syndelius wasn't willing to bet on that. Instead, he ducked off the road so that he was hidden by the woods and began channeling his magicka to cast Magelight and attach it to a tree close enough to be seen by the guards, who should go and investigate.

Once the eerie glow was spotted, the guards charged after it, no doubt expecting it to be some sort of Elvish resistance to the new regime. This allowed Syndelius to slip through the gates with no real opposition. Even though one guard had stayed behind, he had been too focused on what was potentially going on than doing his job and watching the people entering the city. From the gate, Syndelius slipped down a dark alley and began to prepare his next move.