When Ilthallan awoke from his slumber he was really warm… almost hot. He figured out why as he felt someone else’s arms around him. His eyes bolted open as he looked over to see that Zenotha was next to him. She was still sleeping and had a smile on her face… as well as a nice droopy line of drool down her cheek. He smiled and wondered if he could draw her in this light. Instead of drawing her he took a mental note, it was like taking a picture. He would be able to recall this moment in time if he wished and draw it then. 

Slowly he got out from under her and made his way to his clothing. Everything seemed to be in place and he checked to make sure. Luckily for him nothing was taken from him while he slept. Once he felt that nothing was gone, missing or stolen he got dressed… as quietly as he could. Sadly for him his skills of getting dressed weren’t all that polished. His foot got caught in the opening of his pants… it was strange as if someone had cast a spell just to trip him. With a loud BANG! He fell over the table and managed to grab and pull everything off onto his head. 

“Ahh…” A somewhat muffled noise came from Zenotha as she dreamily opened her eyes. He sat on the ground looking at her for a moment.

“This is just a joke of a dream. I would never fail so horribly at putting my pants on. Now shut your eyes and dream of something a little less foolish please.” He said pleading with her in his deception. “O…k…” She groaned and went back to sleep. After a few minutes he cleaned up the mess and was dressed. Quietly as possible he moved out of the room, although the bard outside his room wasn’t helping. 

He was singing something about some dragon born or some such. Ilthallan wasn’t paying much attention but was noticing the increased guard activity. It got even worse when he went outside and his headmaster of the caravan came running up. He was a young Nord, probably twenty something. He had a clean shave, dark eyes, and dark brown hair. He kind of resembled a linebacker and that was without the armor on. With the armor he looked like a monster made of metal. Although he wasn’t wearing his helm and looked less intimidating. 

“It’s our lucky day! Mine because I won’t have to watch the caravan as much. I spoke with a guild that specializes in protection. They happened to be in the area doing gods know and I bumped into them.” He explained as he handed the papers over to Ilthallan. He examined them and took out a magical cipher. It was a golden magnifying glass magically enchanted to read guild stamps and help verify paperwork.

Everything seemed to be in order so he nodded and looked at Arralf the Trollsbane and had him lead him to the caravan’s new muscle. The man was clad in something that resembled scaled armor, he looked like a nord and had blue eyes. His hair was a dirty blond probably because of the helm he wore and possible blood on it. 

“Hello, Arralf tells me you are going to protect us?” He asked skeptically. The Nord man looked the part no doubt and after a bath his hair would probably look blond. Which meant the man probably didn’t smell all that good. In any case Ilthallan extended his hand as a sign of friendship between him and this new person. He didn’t mean for his words to come out so judgmental but he couldn’t shake this feeling that something big was going to go down. 

“They are talking about war.” Zenotha said and as she did Ilthallan jumped about five feet off the ground. That was something to behold seeing as he was wearing heavy armor. He was also carrying many weapons on him… it was strange to see him doing so but he did. It was as if the weapons weren’t even there or the armor. 

“I don’t want to stand around and wait for a ballista to kill me… us.” He corrected as he moved to the caravan. “WE ARE MOVING OUT. GET EVERYONE COLLECTED AND LETS MOVE!” Arralf yelled and everyone moved in a routine quickly collecting belongings and people. “WHOEVER DOESN’T SHOW UP WITHIN TEN MINUTES GETS LEFT BEHIND!” He continued to yell and boss people around. Ilthallan got into his seat and helped Zenotha into the seat. She was carrying a big bag of things that smelt like food. 

She handed him a bowl of something that looked like chunky soup. “Thank you Zenotha.” He moved over and kissed her on the cheek and with that a surprised look crossed her face. She almost dropped her own bowl and started to blush. This distraction allowed Ilthallan to cast a spell which allowed him to verify if his food was poisoned. Luckily it wasn’t and Zenotha didn’t even realize he had cast the spell. 

“Hey don’t drop that.” He said helping her hold her bowl his hand cupped hers as he balanced her bowl. She melted to his touch and let out a small mewling sound. His eyebrow rose as he looked at her. Her face was as red as fresh blood. It looked almost as if she would pass out from the amount of blood traveling into her face. He slid up next to her and allowed her to lean on him while they ate food. Soon after the caravan would be ready to depart. Arralf came up and handed Ilthallan a ledger which told him how much they made this trip. To his surprise they had made well over ten times the amount of money and it was all from metals. Rare or not they had purchased all the ore and bars that the caravan owned. He was certain that this city was about to go to war after realizing the purchases. 

There were a few other purchases like exotic and non-exotic foods.  Technically they were carrying a light load compared to when they came to this town. Although they moved slowly he wanted to be as far from Whiterun as he could. He couldn’t afford to have his caravan destroyed… or the few friends he had made along the way. “Damn it!” He cursed as he realized that he had in fact grown attached to Zenotha and Arralf… even if Zenotha was suspicious and Arralf was a prick to him. He felt he acted that way to keep face when in the presence of others of his race.  Zenotha looked at him concerned, but he just pat her on the head. “Burnt my tongue.” He lied holding it out and touching it. “I could suck the heat off of it if you like.” She said bashfully, as she took another spoonful and stuffed it into her mouth as if to stop herself from speaking. 

“Perhaps someday I will allow you to do so.” He admitted as he started to eat more. “But only after you tell me the truth.” He couldn’t shake the feeling she was holding some grand secret from him… and he was right. They headed North West towards Morthal. If they came upon an invading army they would produce their papers and hope that they would be allowed to pass through. If said army wanted to purchase some supplies they wouldn’t say no. Assuming they passed unharmed from any army they would make for the T in the road and set up camp above the Silent Moons Camp. 

As camp broke he walked up to the new members of the group. Sadly a few people of his own group were left behind. Drunks and people he didn’t really trust so they had extra room. “Sorry for the quick departure but I felt it was bad to say there. My name is Ilthallan and this is Zenotha my shadow.” He admitted as she let out a happy squeak and grabbed onto his arm. He let out a sigh and shook his head. “I was wondering if you and your men would be willing to explore the area. I’m sure people have already done so but you never know, could find a cave or something. I’m itching to find something to take my mind off the racism that hit me like a ton of bricks in Whiterun.” He said with a slight smile hoping to get something from this man. Hakkon was his name on the contract but he was hoping to have him introduce himself. To hear how one pronounces their name is their true name. You can have the same name as someone but until you understand the subtle or not so subtle nuances in speech you don’t really know how to say their name.