Snippet #2057670

The wind slapped against Feylon's cheeks. He left Whiterun a day ago and his progress towards Windhelm had been slow uncomfortable. He had traveled a great distance since leaving Valenwood almost 2 months ago and now his body grew weary of travelling. Staying no longer than a night in some of the inns he passed through. Now all he wanted was a few days respite from the cold weather that had battered his body since arriving in the Northern province of Tamriel. Now weary from his travels he stood before the gate of the rebel city.

Two guards watched him as he approached. His fur cloak wrapped tightly around him desperately trying to retain what heat his body had left. Shivering he came to a stop at the gate before the two guardsmen. "What business does an elf seek in Windhelm?" snapped one of the guards. Shuddering he opened his mouth. "I seek shelter for the night and audience with Ulfric." The guards let out a howl of laughter as Feylon's face reddened with anger. "What makes you think Jarl Ulfric will have audience with an elf? What if you are an imperial spy? Perhaps we would be doing him a favour by killing you now". Feylon winced as the words reached him. Placing a hand on the hilt of his sword he shouted back to the guards. "You fools, I am not your enemy. Dare you turn down support for your cause? I stand here willing to join you and you speak as if you would not have me?" The guards looked at each other puzzled. A moment later they stepped aside and let Feylon proceed. However not without suspicious gazes.

Once he entered through the gates warmth filled his body. Sheltered from the harsh winds outside the walls he felt a little bit of heat seeping through his skin. It would be enough to to keep him from freezing to death but he needed more. He headed for the inn that stood in front of him. Pushing the door open an air of heat brushed across his cold face. Every bit of his body stung as the warm air battled with his freezing cold skin. Now he noticed the looks on the faces of the regular patrons. Disgust and hatred had filled them. He moved silently through the crowd as they mumbled words of hate and placed himself on a seat as far away from the Nords as possible.