[center][color=007fff][b][u]Azura[/u][/b][/color]
Level 2
Day 3
Location: The Land of Skyrim
[b]Experience: [color=black]||||||||||||||||||||[/color] (0/10)[/b] 
Word Count: 531[/center]

Even with her low vantage point, Azura quickly became aware of the firepower her new allies possessed.  Taking the enemies, too self-sure in their newfound armament to be cautious, by surprise, the heroes routed the Forsworn in just a couple minutes.  When the bombardment stopped and the songstress deemed it safe to rise from the snowy bed where she’d thrown herself, she spotted a number of fresh carcasses starting to frost over where they fell.  She found herself giving a nod of acknowledgment.  “These advanced projectile weapons seem to increase the pace of battle several fold.  They kill with…frightening efficiency.”  One could only shudder when imaging such weapons introduced into her world.  In the wrong hands, they could lead to slaughter on an unprecedented scale.  Now more than ever, Azura felt determined to bring the confluence of worlds to an end.

Around her, the Stormcloaks hustled about, gathering the fallen equipment.  Though none of them seemed to notice Azura except to move around her when she happened to block one’s path, she hastened to escape the commotion and join the group gathering around the warriors’ leader, Ulfric.  She responded to his proposal of retirement to the fortress with a nod, and prepared to follow him.  Only then came the crashing sound of thunder to split the sky, yet without any lightning in sight.  Azura froze when a chorus of ethereal voices followed the thunderclap, the words rolling across the land in an unfamiliar tongue.  Bemused and alarmed, the songstress looked to Ulfric for explanation, and once he had the heroes’ attention he obliged them.  Eyebrows furrowed, Azura listened in rapt attention.

The Stormcloaks’ commander did not give an explicit declaration about the Greybeards themselves, but his reverent tone spoke of some great authority, one seldom seen or heard but respected nonetheless.  From the name, Azura pictured a conclave of old sages, and from the magnificence of their Shout she could intuit that they possessed power to back up their perceived status.  To her, the answer seemed clear; to put down the foreign threat facing this world, the heroes needed every advantage, and could not afford to ignore a call from such an important group.  It appeared, however, that not everyone shared her sentiments.  After spending a few minutes in an irrelevant debate with his handler, and then finally falling silent through the explanation, the President decided to interject that he wouldn’t help in the slightest.  [i]What else is new?[/i]  Azura barely contained her disdain, instead taking the path of a reasonable explanation.  [color=007fff]”Boss, these ‘Greybeards’ are clearly more important than a group of ancient civilians.  Ulfric spoke of them almost like gods.  Since we would encounter danger anywhere we go, Hrothgar or Markarth, it would be wise to heed the call of this authority.  They might be able to give us vital information, or a way to defeat the ‘Steel Gods’.”  She leaned on her lance, glancing around for support among the other heroes.  “Given our situation, ignorant of this world and our enemy, we should take every advantage we can.  Even if the Boss would rather sit this journey out, we have been summoned, and should answer.”[/color]