Dawnstar, truly a magnificent sight in the morning. The air was crisp and chilling, brimming with salty tastes of the sea winds. At this northerly latitude, sunrise gave the impression of Aetherius ascending over of distant waters. Though it was Sun's Height, therefore one of the warmest times in northern Tamriel, the wee hours of Dawnstar carried a bitter cold half the continent never experienced. There were no snow inside the town (though not the case in mountains passes), but layers of frost, analogous to dew in warmer climates, clung to the surfaces of buildings and vegetation.

Daelin was the first wake, as always. The Bosmer slept light, just the faint bird chirps off in some distance were enough to send him on his day. He went through his morning routine, then taking a short walk along the bay. Daelin saw sailors already up and about on their vessels. When he came back to the inn, food aroma greeted him from the kitchen. Thoring and his daughter busied themselves preparing breakfast, and judging by the amount of ingredients, it was going to be a large order. In the dinning room, the inn staff woke hungover drunks. One particular “drunk” Daelin missed on his way out was Ashav. The older mercenary doubled over a table like the others, only stirring when shuffling and food scents reached him. Daelin went wake Ashav, but as he came closer, someone emerged from the nearby room.

“Ah, fine morning to you.” A Nord man draped in finery offered a dozy smile.
  
“Hi.” Daelin answered hesitantly. “Do I know you?”

“Name's Gustav.” The Nord tipped his finely oiled fur hat. “The sponsor behind your company. By which, I presume you work under Ashav.”

Talking managed to shake Ashav out of his lull. With a sudden jerk, the Redguard launched himself upright. “Whoa.” He rubbed his eyes open. Shaking his head back and forth to clear himself up, and taking in the surrounding, Ashav creaked out in a raspy tone. “Daelin? And wait, I know you; Gustav?” Ashav stretched.

“Pleasant dreams, Ashav?” 

“Um, not really. What happened, why am I out here? Where is my room?”

“You really let yourself go, didn't you?” Gustav chuckled. He moved a mostly-empty mug across the table. It had the slightest leftover of mead. Drinking on an empty stomach is bad idea, but any liquid is liquid when dealing with a hangover. “Remember this?” Gustav handed the mug over. “And this; everything?” He traced over familiar scratches and pointed to empty candle holders.

“The gods, what have I done...” Ashav exclaimed. Memory of last evening came back painfully clear. The embarrassment of intoxicated stupor, the lies that slipped out of his mouth like a drooling hound. Sooner or later, he and some Dunmer(s) are going to do a lot of explaining.

“It's alright, my friend.” Gustav reassured. He rested one hand on Ashav's shoulder and beckoned over the tavern boy with his other hand. 

“We all let our hair down once in a while.” Gustav said. “Metaphorically.” He corrected after noticing Ashav's baldness.

The doors to Daelin's room flung open the second time to reveal Dumhuvud Cat-Kicker. Gustav stood up but immediately pulled back down by both Ashav and Daelin. “That's my lieutenant, Dumhuvud.” Ashav said. “And he's definitely not a morning person.” The Cat-Kicker isn't going to get any more friendlier any other time of the day. But Gustav didn't to know that. His wave to Dumhuvud got nothing but a dirty look.

Edith came out of her shared room minutes later, ready for battle beside chainmail and helmet. The Ariane behind her was a polar opposite, fumbling with hair pins and scrambling to smooth out every wrinkle on her robe. Ariane also went to Thoring for shoe polishing and laundry. The latter's expression was a mix of annoyance and amusement. Eventually, Ariane received a simple “no”. She would vent a good five minutes on the facility's “lacking state”. 

“And there you have it, my advisers.” Ashav introduced each of the four to Gustav.

“Not bad.” Gustav reckoned. A satin pouch came out of his coat and dropped onto the table. “So, I'm afraid I'll have to take my leave now.” Getting to his feet, Gustav pushed the pouch over to Ashav. “Consider this additional funds. I have to leave for Solitude in the hour, and likely would not return for a week.” He continued. “I recommend taking up the jarl on his Winterhold expedition, and they are pushing embarkation to this afternoon.”

“If you and your men need anything else, do drop a requisition list by my ship, [i]Kyne's Tear[/i], in the next hour.” Before he left, Gustav produced a leather-bound book. [i]Sanitation Guide to Tamriel[/i] was its title. “One more thing; please pass this along to Renym the Ashlander.” 

“Who the crap is Renym?” Dumhuvud asked once Gustav disappeared. 

“It's a long story...”
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Gustav bumped into two people on his way. The first being S'riracha the Khajiit, who had a flyer of the Winterhold expedition, ripped from a bulletin board. Gustav stopped the Khajiit to tell him about Ashav, saying how he should work with the mercenaries instead of going solo. S'riracha seemed convinced, so Gustav turned to another soon after, a young Redguard by the name of Almad. This vivacious man wore a priest's trappings, and perhaps intending to lend restoring spells so famous to temple priests. Gustav told him the mercenaries are not cutthroats, and some might appreciate a little healing after combating snow demons. 

S'riracha found himself in Windpeak Inn, beside Almad. Bringing up the flyer, S'riricha introduced himself and his intent to embark for Winterhold. The Khajiit said he would detach from the caravan for a while, lending his assistance to the town while sating his own curiosity from Winterhold. Not a moment too soon did the newcomers find Dumhuvud. S'riracha had yet to know Dumhuvud's full name, but the scold was more than enough to convey disdain. 

“Great, one more ass-licking cat. Just great.” Dumhuvud sulked away shaking his head.
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Within the hour, many mercenaries awoke from the first proper sleep they got in weeks. The first wave of customers also entered the inn. Thoring brought out platters of food and drinks, all paid by Gustav. The breakfast wasn't royal standard by any chance, but it was nevertheless warm, fresh and hand-prepared with coin-forced dedication. Several long tables were reserved for the company, separated by dividers from regular patrons. 

“Alright everyone, gather around.” Once the majority had assembled, Ashav began. He ate his meal, a bagel and some smoked salmon, before most. Some people paused and paid attention to Ashav, but some found eating to be more important.

“What is wrong with you!? Give him some respect!” Dumhuvud slapped the food out of the nearest person's hands.
 
“It's fine, you may continue eating.” Ashav waved the Cat-Kicker down.

“The last few weeks have no doubt been trying.” Ashav started his speech. Looking around the tables, the venerable Redguard spared a glance to everyone. This was all that's left of the company. Three weeks ago, there were sufficient mercenaries to fill a plaza, now, barely four full tables remained.

“And I wager our jobs aren't getting any easier. Now, I don't blame anyone wanting to leave.” Ashav spoke. No longer was he issuing orders from a podium. He was no more than first among equals today. Before his voice cracked, he slammed down a large gulp from his mug. Mead in the morning, Ashav definitely looked like he wanted to numb the pain, wanted to make all his troubles vanish into thin air. It couldn't, so the next best thing would be laying them out plain. “In fact, you may go at this moment, I would not mind.”  

Doesn't seem like anyone's going anywhere, well, not until they're done with their free breakfast. Accompanying his next lines was the expedition flyer S'riracha brought in. “Now, here's our next assignment; Winterhold.” Placing the sheet on the closest table, Ashav waited for everyone to see it before going on. “Apparently, Winterhold had another disaster, and some say the town's gone, permanently. Now this man,” Ashav pointed to S'riracha, “said he heard some rumors. The Kamals might have been somehow responsible.” The implication took some seconds to sink in. No doubt some folk, such as Keegan, wondered what other Kamal magic or weapon have yet been unveiled.

“Point is, the college over there still stands, but its bridge collapsed.” Ashav elaborated. “I assume they cannot last very long without supplies from the outside, so jarl Skald ordered a rescue.”  The flyer finished circulating and returned to Ashav bearing food stains. 

“As you can expect, the sea around Winterhold is cold, turbulent and saturated with icebergs.” Ashav tapped on a simple map printed on the flyer. “Skilled sailors are volunteering to go, and one of these vessels just happened to need a dozen extra hands; we will sail with them.” 

“The captain's contracting us then?” Keegan raised his hand. In every single assembly since signing up, he was always the first to ask questions. Curious, sure, but Keegan preferred [i]certain[/i]. Knowing anything could help in an assignment out of the blue.

“Well,” Ashav considered. “You can say that. Though it is the jarl's plan, so I say Skald is the ultimate authority.”

“Another jarl, how wonderful is that?” Farid let out a mocking laugh. His feet were previously on a table, while he took bites out of an apple. Setting his feet down at Ashav's words, Farid spat out pieces of the apple core to talk more clearly. “Let's hope this one doesn't go on suicidal duels, or have a bratty son, for the matter.”

“You just can't stop bitchin'.” Orakh frowned. 

“Please, I'm not finished yet.” Ashav cleared his throat. “The paper said leaving tomorrow morning but our friend, S'riracha, informed me departure was forwarded to this afternoon.” He looked to the large, stripped Khajiit, who nodded back in confirmation. “Edith, Daelin and myself will not accompany you, as we need to plan for operations ahead. Dumhuvud will be in charge, he will coordinate with the captain.” Couple of worried looks passed around instantly. Ariane wasn't mentioned, but she was too busy trimming her nails with a bound dagger to care.

“If I may; something related.” Edith added. “We have a supplier taking orders to Solitude. Speak up now on your buys, or anything anyone wants to send there.”

“Right.” Ashav agreed. Rising from the table finally after a long night, Ashav flexed his shoulders. “So, you raise hands if you do not wish to go.” Good, seemed like most were fine with the mission, or don't have the guts to speak up. Either way, they'd better be fine, and better speak their mind on the next part. “Any questions?”