[center][b]15th of Sun's Dusk, 4E205 ~ Windhelm[/b][/center]

So this... was Windhelm? Justinian took the initial sites in the moment he had arrived the previous night. He couldn't exactly say he was impressed. The roads, though paved with stone, appeared uneven and broken at places. Not to mention nearly an entire third of the town - comprising of the docks and the Gray Quarter - appeared almost outright dilapidated by the treatment it was given by those in charge. Sure, the Imperial City's Waterfront was no paradise either, but it at least was [i]outside[/i] the walls of the city itself. That wasn't the case for Windhelm. So for all the talk about Windhelm being this ancient capital of Skyrim containing the would-be High King's throne... the city itself left a lot to be desired. He might even go as far as to assert that his hometown of Bruma was a better-looking city by comparison. Of course, that would also come from an admittedly biased perspective.

Justinian had spent the vast majority of the introductions staying quiet. He'd been eying Brunwulf the whole time, as if sizing him up in some fashion. J'Varga had talked this guy up as a war hero that would set things right. But for now, all Justinian could see was an old man, past his prime. Perhaps his actions would speak louder than words? He hoped so, otherwise Justinian wasn't entirely sure why he ever agreed to this.

"I'm Gungnir." he said, putting on his best nordic accent. He'd been able to fool everyone with this ruse so far, no sense in stopping just yet. Of course, the old man could very well be sharp enough to not be fooled. In which case, Justinian would simply pass this off as a test of some sort, "I'm... not from around here. And let's just leave it at that."

Justinian uncrossed arms and reached for the Akaviri weapon sitting next to him. He quietly unsheathed the blade and used a cloth to wipe it down and give it a good polish, "...Look, I'm here because I promised that crazy cat I'd hear you out. I owe him for keeping me from starving, and I [i]always[/i] pay my debts." by now he'd put the blade back in it's sheathe and had instead retrieved his crossbow from his backpack. He began to give it a similar treatment, even taking it apart in order to clean and polish some of it's individual parts before beginning to reassemble it.