A collab between myself and [@Leidenschaft]. It's not a big ol' fuck-off wall of text this time, just a wall of text!
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Sagax woke up a few hours later into the night to the same conditions he went to sleep to: Frigid, icy cold. His clothes and armor didn't do much to stave off the chill, and he got to his feet shivering, deciding that he wouldn't be getting any more sleep. "Some cosmic joke, this is...this company risked life and limb to fight off those bastard Forsworn and we get a dinky warehouse to sleep in..." Rubbing his eyes and trying to get over his grumpy morning mood, Sagax checked his main bag to find that everything was still in order. He looked around and saw that several others were still sleeping. Not surprising, Sagax supposed. It was still an hour or two until morning.

Flipping open his pack, he rolled up his "pillow" and stuck it back in its usual spot while taking out his canteen. The cold night air left his throat almost painfully dry, and he only put the water back after he had taken a few good gulps from the vessel. He felt a sudden freezing draft, and decided it would be a good idea to take out his hood while he was still rummaging through everything. It would deflect some of the gales of Windhelm if nothing else. Thankfully the cold air hadn't infested the leather hood too much, and Sagax was able to put it on without needing to bother with warming it up.

With everything packed up and in order, the Imperial began stretching his legs and made his way outside to one of the big lit sconces near the warehouse door. He didn't mind the cold, but Windhelm was an entirely different beast, and it would serve him best to warm up a little bit.

Jorwen had put himself near the door of the warehouse, his cloak wrapped around him. His breath smoked on the air, but he wanted to be the first one his daughter saw when she came. The first face he saw today was that of a young Imperial, one he thought he recognized. They stood in silence for a bit before Jorwen spoke up, "Morning." It was a lame start, but he didn't know how else to greet the boy, "Can't say we've spoken, yet. My name's Jorwen."

Looking over, Sagax met eyes with Jorwen and smiled an inviting smile. "Good morning, sir Red-Bear. We haven't spoken yet, no, but I know of you. I'm Sagax Speculatus." He held out his hand to greet Jorwen, something Sagax has been doing a lot of lately. It made Sagax happy that he has been given the chance to meet so many people in the last few weeks. "I saw you fight in the redoubt. I was on the wall, if you recall. Very nice work. Perhaps one day I'll talk to someone from the Bards College and commission a ballad, eh?" Geeze, look who's pathetic now, eh, Sagax?

Jorwen chuckled a bit awkwardly and scratched gently at a cheek, "Can't say I've ever been told that. Never thought I'd done anything worthy enough for anything other than drunken songs around the fire." He shrugged, "And, please, lad. Just Jorwen, I don't know how they call others down south but I prefer Jorwen." He took Sagax's hand in a firm shake and returned it to its place inside his cloak. "First time with a company, yeah?"

Sagax laughed sheepishly. "Sorry about that, Jorwen. Just a small habit of mine that I've been trying to kick. We have a lot of knights in Cyrodil, and they are usually addressed as 'sir' by the common folk. I see people up here don't much care for fancy titles outside of songs." The small man shook strongly and continued to hover his hands over the fire of the sconce. "Ah, yes, this is my first time in this sort of business. First time fighting, actually. The redoubt was my first taste of real open combat." 

"And even though, if only by your own words, you haven't done anything worthy of reknowned song, I still found witnessing you and Sevine fight during the assault quite inspiring. It's a level of skill and grace I can only hope to achieve,"

Jorwen had to stop himself from wincing. Nowadays, he didn't usually take pleasure in revisiting the battlefield after the fight was over if he had any say about it, but the smaller man was young. It's a universal thing, Jorwen was worse at his age, "Mm. I only did what needed doing, lad. Anyone'd do the same. What brings you all the way to Skyrim to get into the bloody business? You like every other young'n wanting a name?"

"Oh, of course, Jorwen. It wouldn't be respectful of me to assume that you revel in the bloodshed. You just don't strike me as that kind of man." He began to wring his hands over the fire. "Me personally, I want to try to...limit my killing. My father, thank the Divines for letting me be born of his loins, taught me a lot of techniques, including nonlethal takedowns. Mara willing, I'm going to be sticking to those." 

"And...me?" He said in a quiet and thoughtful tone. "Well...yes, I want a name. I want glory, but...it isn't for me. I won't be using my deeds or stories of my adventures to my own gain. Not intrinsically. It's a part of a plan I've got going...a big dumb convoluted plan, but it's MY big dumb convoluted plan, yeah?" His hand crept to the hilt of his shortsword as he stared into the flames. The sword that will cut the chains of his father and reunite his family. If more blood must wet the blade, then so be it, but Sagax was determined to stick to his principles.

"Well, I'll admit that's not the usual reason I hear. Sounds like an important plan of yours. As long as it doesn't see any of us dead, I hope it'll succeed, for what it's worth." Jorwen watched Sagax's hand brush his shortsword and for a second, the lad's eyes got distant, "I'd hate to say it but you don't get many opportunities to be anything other than lethal in this line of work. I'll be the first to buy you a drink if you find a way." He chuckled and cleared his throat. "Who was your father? A legionnaire?"

"That's where he started, yes. He was a Praefect before he left with my mother to go to the Imperial City. He eventually became the Captain of the City Watch. He was...well, he still is, the kind of man to sit and listen to you. He wouldn't just send a squad of guards to kick down your door. He was a firm believer in due process, and any man under his command that went against the protocols he set was disciplined severely." Strangely, talking about his father soothed Sagax's nerves. It hit him just how greatly he missed Caius. All the more reason to get his ass moving. "I'm doing this for him. He was...unfairly tried. It's a long story, but to make it short, the Elder Council saw an opportunity for a political move that would put them in a good light and took it like wolves would take chunks out of an elk. Now I'm going to get him out of those accursed dungeons." He looked up at the towering Red-Bear and smiled. "It's good to know that you have my back, even if just in spirit if things get too rough." It felt even better to Sagax for him to know that Jorwen believed in his success. It's always the little things, spoken or otherwise, that keep people going.

He smiled and nodded to Sagax, "My father's been long in the grave now, but he always had it that you shouldn't ask the Gods for an easier time of it, but instead ask them for the strength to keep going through the rought times. Reckon times'll only get rougher from here." He took a moment to study Sagax in the firelight. Usually lads were full of piss and vigor, talking of things they'd only gotten half-notions about, but Sagax struck him as the good few with a good head on his neck. "It's a noble sounding thing you're doing. You already know it's not going to be easy, but don't lose yourself. Harder than it sounds. Your father sounds like a good man, do him proud." Jorwen rubbed at his eyes and groaned, looking out at the night one more time and hoping he'd see Solveig walking out of the darkness, but no luck. "Well, I'll see you in the morn, Sagax."

Sagax nodded respectfully. "Indeed. I'm glad we could talk. I'm always looking to meet new people, and I'm certainly glad I've met you." As Jorwen went his own way, Sagax decided that prayer may be a good idea. If nothing else, it would give him peace of mind. He looked to the night sky, the fire casting an odd gloom over his surroundings, and spoke a prayer to Lady Mara quietly to himself.