Dreet-Na listened as the first of his companions spoke, a tall and clearly strong warrior who was wrapped in fine ebony armour featuring scenes of battle gilded elaborately onto the plate. From the man’s confident demeanour and the scar on his face it took only a few moments for Dreet-Na to recognise him, after all victorious mercenaries were a rare thing in Tamriel, the majority falling before they can garner any kind of lasting reputation. This man was Haserus Flurcon, there was no mistaking his signature armour, helm or blades – or the many deeds he had committed. True to his character he wasted little time in voicing his concerns and dismay at the group and their lack of warriors, speaking of overwhelming the dragons and peppering them with arrows. 

Predictable and somewhat disappointing he thought to himself as he scrawled down Haserus’s name in his book and underlined it, but warriors with as high level of success as him were of course going to place their faith in the way of the sword and bow over magic or guile. 

It took little time for the red-eyed one to stand, his expression showing his clear anger at what the warrior had said. His voice trembled and seemed to hold almost as much power as that of the Greybeards when he spoke. 

[b]"You speak with words that have as little footing as you have wits, Haserous!"[/b] he stated, his words filled with venom and directed towards the prestigious warrior. 

Dreet-Na listened intently and with great interest as this stranger spoke of being centuries old and consuming souls as well as being a feared presence in the north of Cyrodil, eventually elaborating in his speech that he had somehow ascended beyond Lich-hood to become something… more. Shifting in his seat as the argonian made another note in his book, he suppressed a grin as he realised he now had two very interesting specimens amongst his companions, and that things may not be as gloomy as he had foreseen. He noted down both of their speeches in his small book word for word, toying in his mind with the idea that they may at one point be the well-known words of famed vanquishers of dragons. 

Breaking the conversation suddenly was a loud and almost ear-splitting roar that emanated through the stone chambers of High Hrothgar and caused silence to return to the group as all eyes fixated on the Khajiit. He was stood gazing at both of those who had spoken, and he clearly was not impressed with their words and their sentiments. His own words were shorter and more direct, to the point and reminding them both that this was not some quest for honour or glory, but that fact that they were here to survive – a fact that not five minutes earlier Dreet-Na had also reminded the red-eyed one of in their short exchange before the others had arrived. 

Frowning at their similarities in priority and the fact Dreet-Na found himself feeling positively towards the Khajiit, he created another heading in his book ‘Stupid Khajiit’ and hesitated at what to write before he scribbled the heading out and continued to listen. 

Haserus Flurcon spoke again, laughing even at the Khajiit’s words as he acknowledged what he had said. The warrior then continued to speak, poking a challenge at the red-eyed one as he did so, seeming to not really take in the meaning of the Khajiit’s words. 

[b]"I fully believe in what the cat man spoke of, however, to prove myself, why don't I and this... Undead... Step outside for a true test? Or is he afraid”[/b] challenged Haserus with his hand on his sword and a cold gaze in his eye. 

Before however the red-eyed Breton could respond the tension was broken by another voice, this time belonging to the comparatively much smaller female of the group. Her words were harsh and cutting, demeaning the pair for their lack of foresight and overabundance of brawn and finishing by scolding them for their immaturity. Dreet-Na’s throaty laugh pierced the tense atmosphere as the sight of the young Breton girl with her small frame and lengthy black hair telling the centuries old lich and the renowned warrior off as if they were no more than hatchlings. The next to speak was the Nordic looking warrior and his companion, an imperial by the look of him – an unlikely partnership here in Skyrim, however they had entered together and shown that they have some kind of partnership together, so Dreet-Na assumed that they were either above such racial squabbles or were perhaps from elsewhere in Tamriel. 

Taking his own turn to speak the argonian cleared his throat and calmly began “She-who-sneaks is correct” he gestured towards Rozalia before he closed his book and stood, leaning forwards and keeping both hands on the table as he did so. “Neither of you shall attain any glory or satisfaction in fighting each other. We are all losers here until Alduin is vanquished and Mundus is safe from its foretold destruction” as he spoke he moved his gaze from Haserous to Valerion. “Once we are done with this task, feel free to resolve your personal issues until one of you lays defeated.”

Seating himself again Dreet-Na continued, this time addressing the group as a whole “Agree or disagree. It is irrelevant until we have a viable course of action. Haserus here speaks of legions of warriors, which may be of some use against the regular Dovah out there, but not against Alduin himself. The first-born of Akatosh will not be defeated by any regular means, and even you and all of the companions you could dream of would not be able to fell the beast with a peppering of arrows or flash of blades – otherwise he would have been defeated before and not have returned to complete his task in our era.” 

Pausing Dreet-Na picked up the Dwemer pipe he had set before him and with a flick of his finger he sent a tendril of flames into the bowl and inhaled some of the smoke before he continued “Make your choices now, if you find the company of misfits and other…” he paused and glanced towards Valerion “…undesirables, then perhaps you should enjoy your final days elsewhere.”

Done with his speech Dreet-Na took several more puffs from his pipe before he added “Oh, and I am Dreet-Na, ever a humble scholar and mage”.

With that he opened the mostly empty book again and picked up his quill, waiting to see what response would come his way. As he waited he could not help but wonder at the red-eyed one and his claims. Was he truly greater than the greatest of necromancers, becoming as he claimed more than a king-litch. Mannimarco King of Worms had achieved such power, but was it possible that this one had also found some kind of way to cheat the mortal realm of its one certainty by consuming the souls of others. It was said that the only one who could truly kill a dragon was another dragon or a dragonborn, but did stealing their souls count as killing it he wondered. Dreet-Na watched the red-eyed one as he waited, curious to know how much he would be willing share of his secrets.