[i]24th of Second Seed[/i]

Nanine was startled awake the sounds of Legionnaires moving outside her inn on the street. The familiar sound of armor jostling and military jargon echoing in the streets and through her window. Nanine laid in bed, a hand on her sword, listening to the group past. They sounded alarmed by something, hurrying through the town and talking in loud voices. She caught their conversation as they passed. Six orbs. The Dominion's attack was imminent. In a hurried rush, she armed and armored herself, grabbing her backback and its supplies, heading out of the inn she had stayed at and going to where she last knew her companion's too be. 

Pushing her way through the fighting and the chaos, Nanine managed to reach the boat just in time, turning to release one last icy spear at the attacke's before the [i]Intrepid[/i] left. Nanine sat wearily on the deck, out of the way, her sword and armor splattered with blood from the infiltrator's she had fought, watching the goings on of the crew and the people she had thrown her lot in with. Things had not gone well. Rhea was dead, to the grief of those who had been with her longest. Rhona looked to be covered in blood not her own. Anvil and Skingrad had both fallen in short fashion, and now they were heading to Hammerfell. Murmuring a pray to Arkay for the fallen, Nanine set about removing her armor and taking care of her equipment. It wouldn't do for her to fall off the boat and drown because she was in the steel plate, and it all needed to be cleaned anyways. 

The six days to Gilane were grim for the most part. Rhona was in clear shock, but anyone who got to close to her was meet with a death glare from Brynja. Nanine didn't press the issue, instead preferring to spend her time checking on her equipment or drawing in her journal the sights of her recent adventures. Hammerfell would at least prove interesting. It was both free of the Dwemer, and was somewhere she had never been. Her father had told her stories of his time there, but they had been warped and bitter by the memory of it being where he also lost many friends and the use of his arm. It would be good to explore the province and see it with her own eyes. 

As the [i]Intrepid[/i] pulled into the dock, Nanine cursed in both frustration and begrudging awe. The Dwemer had, evidently, not only expanded this far, but conquered Hammerfell before the sacking of Imperial city. Conquered it so rapidly and effectively, that not a single word of it had escaped before Imperial City fell. The Dwemer were a far greater threat than she had initially thought. Their actions in Cyrodil were noteworthy, but only for their surprise arrival and their superior technology. As the Skingrad Rangers had shown, and the others of her group, they could be killed. Beaten even.  It had been an idea that had seeped into the refugees around Skingrad, even after the defeat of the rangers. They weren't invincible. They could bleed, and they could die. 

But to conquer all of Hammefell so securely? Without even a hint of the slaughter that was enacted upon the Imperial city? That was a force that even the Empire at its peak under Tiber Septim would have been stopped by, maybe even defeated by. Nanine walked over to the ship's edge, looking across the harbor as Roux, Daro'Vasora, and the customs officials chatted. Her mind worked through all the information she had just received, noting the details that might explain the stark differences. [color=skyblue][i]Different factions? Different leadership certainly. What could they have done to the Redguards to gain control so efficiently? The Dominion couldn't even do that when they were forcing the Legions through the March of Thirst. And how rapidly did they even gain control? There doesn't appear to have been a period of prolonged resis-[/i][/color] Nanine's thoughts came to a screeching halt as she focused on a particular ship in the harbor. It was of Dominion make. Completely untouched and unguarded, so here of its free will and able to leave at any point in time. The fact that one of their ships was in a harbor controlled by the Dwemer could have meant a few things, none of them good for the Empire. Or Tamriel.

She was barely given a glance by the Dwemer boarding the ship, for which Nanine breathed a minor sigh of relief. She didn't want to draw any more attention to her sword than was strictly necessary. As they all disembarked, and Daro'Vasora was bumped into by a small child, Nanine's thoughts were set into motion even faster than before. [color=skyblue][i]Civilians? [u]Children[/u] no less? Those are not the people you bring along with you on an invasion force by choice. Refugees? But why not bring them back to your old homes in Skyrim and across Cyrodil?[/i][/color] So far as she knew, there were no Dwemer ruins here in Hammerfell, nor in her own home of High Rock. None of it made sense, and Nanine was, frankly, beginning to grow tired of feeling that she knew next to nothing. 

She remained silent through their arrival to the [i]Three Crowns[/i] and Poncy Man's introduction, merely nodding in appreciation and heading to her shared room once it was indicated which she would be going too. Setting down her equipment and backpack, Nanine sat on the bed and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It had been a long week. Drawing her sword, she began to take care of the weapon, carefully checking its edge and polishing the blade, humming quietly to herself. This was far more for her own sake than any actual need to take care of [i]The Eternal Vow[/i]. The blade gleamed like it had been made out of pure darkness, her family's words emblazoned in white upon it. As she went through the familiar motions of taking care of the sword, she felt herself relaxing, the tension leaving her body.

She wasn't the only one who needed calming. Her eyes rose briefly to follow Meg's path as she sighed heavily and headed out on the balcony with a drink. Sheathing her sword, Nanine followed, leaning on the balcony next to the nord woman. 

[color=skyblue]"Septim for your thoughts."[/color]