Sillivren Wren's Story

"Well what does CAJH spell!" The young Bosmer queried inwardly between bites of a sweet roll, the roll's former owner peering drunkenly about the bar searching for the purloined snack. The trick was to eat it before they looked her direction but the pastry was larger than her fist. She licked her thumb as she glanced down to the flier with a scattering of crumbs resting between the words.
"Maybe it is CAWB." She thought and let out a long breath because it barely more sense than the first guess. It seemed hopeless and while normally she could afford to let random riddles go, she had missed the trip back to Riften already. She gave a wary glance toward Corpulus and then looked downward again. The bartenders knew their territory as well as a snow bear knew her cave, she was not so bold or talented to think she sat unseen here. She could only hope that some into the cups human would not mistake her for a Thalmer and unleash a large amount of pent up aggression on the smaller target.

Indeed, she was smaller than the neighboring Nords and Imperials that jostled in this candlelit space, the smells of ale and workman's sweat wafting into the corner's of the oddly named bar. Her narrow face was hidden beneath an earthy toned hood and her lean angular form identified her as the quintessential other in the midst of harty pale folks. Sometimes she marveled at their pale skin, so like the pale lichens that dotted the grey rocks, their hair as yellow as sunlight on wheat. She could watch them work for hours without pause, even their women showed an inner strength to put the Imperials to shame.

She finished her sweet roll and licked her fingers before replacing her glove and flexing within the tight leather.
"Sod it, it is all gibberish..." She muttered and reached into her battered hip pouch to feel about for the septims necessary not to spend another night in a juniper tree just out the rest of wolves.

The doors of the Winking Skeever opened quite quickly as Valia Mallius pushed them open, one of the doors accidentally smashing against the wall off the bar. As soon as the door smashed, most of the patrons of the bar looked over to see her standing there in her Solitude guard armor. Closing the doors just behind her, she looked over at a group of nordic patrons who stood around talking and moved over to them, conversing quite quickly as one of them gave her a tankard filled to the top with Cyrodiilic Brandy. "A good glass from the Imperial homeland." She spoke as she took the first drink of the brandy, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Much better than what you have here. The Imperials have true taste." The group of patrons laughed as she joked with them, Valia looking around with a smile to see everyone enjoying their night.

As she looked around the bar, she noticed the Bosmer woman sitting alone with a piece of paper in her hands. Patting the nords on the shoulder, she slowly moved away and around the bar with an eye kept on the Bosmer. After of a few minutes of walking around, and conversing with other groups who gather around the bar, she moved over to a pillar near where the Bosmer sat, leaning upon it as she watched her for a moment with a large drink of her brandy. "You must be new around here." She spoke plainly before pushing herself off the pillar and moved closer to the woman, stopping on the other side of the table with her right hand resting upon the pommel of her sword casually. Removing her hand from her sword, she motioned it towards the chair next to her as she began to speak once more. "May I join you?"

Sillivren flinched as the doors swung open, giving a brief view of the flagstones beyond, the grand buildings that put most of Skyrim's assorted settlements to shame. She felt Riften was nicer of course when one overlooked the thieves, the useless Jarl, the smell of the canal, and the recent addition of dragons. However, the view of the city was blocked out swiftly by a much dreaded sight for people such as her, a Solitude Guard's uniform. Or a Whiterun or Dawnstar, it did not matter the town so much as the authority invested within those who wore it. The recent rebellion had only shown that in addition to Skyrim having harsh and unforgiving terrain, it had harsh and unforgiving people. There was the additional issue, however small, that she was given to ownership of another's property.

However, Sillivren found herself fortunate and she whispered a near silent prayer to Mara for her mercy in this regard, the Guards woman found her company within the locals. She looked back down and traced her fingers over the page before withdrawing a short stub of charcoal from her bag and writing capitals along the side of the sheet. The sounds of laughter caused her lift her head again, examining the perimeter for a change in the crowd. Noticing nothing amiss, she continued writing, the tip of her tongue protruding from her lips. She felt pangs of regret she had been so remiss in any form of studies as a child.

The voice brought her out of the frustrating attempt at solving this riddle and she glanced over, considering her words with great care. She considering what the other meant, what was implied, the many ways such simple statements could be interpreted. Surely, being so easily picked out as new was unfortunate because it meant she was doing something poorly. Her earth tone clothing and quiet manner had always assured she went unnoticed in the past. Perhaps, the rebellion had caused security to tighten ensuring the guards did know the locals by sheer necessity to keep them safe. When she finally spoke, it was in a carefully measured tone.

"I came in with a shipment of cloth. I am just looking for work and causing no trouble." Sometimes she wondered if she was a Nord she would have to explain herself so often. Bosmer were thieves and so accused, the Bosmer acted the part. So fed the stereotype and the endless cycle.
"Not more than a tenday ago." She added after a pause and pushed the seat opposite of her out with her foot.
"This is no property of mine nor my right to claim, please sit down if you wish." She was careful not to meet the eye of the Imperial, her hood shading her face as she carefully refolded the paper. She did so with slow casual movements, movements calculated to draw the least suspicion to her actions.
"I beg pardon, I have no spirits or wine to share with you, Guards woman." Short of a candle placed into a wine bottle at the center of the table, it was barren. She leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms behind her head and using the opportunity to attempt to push the folded paper between her bracer and skin of her wrist.

Watching as the Bosmer remained silent in thought, Valia let a slight smile appear upon her face as she could easily tell the the behavior, and responses given, seemed to be quite frantic and a bit suspicious. Having seen many suspicious Mer around Solitude, as of late, she did not seem to truly care about how this one acted. She glanced around the bar, once more, with a very casual look but her attention was almost immediately turned back to the chair beside her as the Bosmer pushed it out. "There is no need to explain yourself, Miss, I was merely making an observation. I like to meet every new face around Solitude and, especially, the Winking Skeever." As she spoke those words, she slowly lowered herself into the chair with her tankard lightly resting upon the ground, taking a quick, and subtle, look at the flier held in her hand before she slid it into her bracer.

On the back of the flier were three strategically placed dots, looking as if they simply bled through the paper during its writing, that allowed Valia to see that it was the flier she created. Thinking intently about the flier as she casually took a drink from her tankard, she wondered why a Bosmer would be looking over her flier of gibberish, always coming to the conclusion of a Thalmor spy likely based on the fact that Valenwood was part of the Third Aldmeri Dominion. Despite her greatest attempts to not profile Altmer and Bosmer, she had a very hard time believing them due to their affiliation with the Dominion. Shaking her thoughts from her head, she looked at the Bosmer as she claimed that she had nothing to share and put a large smile upon her face. "Then I shall share with you." Lifting her hand quite casually into the air, she called over a serving wench who spoke with Sorex before moving over. "I would like to purchase something for my new friend, here." She spoke casually once more before glancing over at the Bosmer with a smile being placed back on her face. "Bring something from Valenwood so she feels at home." The wench nodded in response and as she was walking off, Valia spoke up once more, yelling after the wench. "And bring me another Brandy, please!"

Looking back to the Bosmer with a bit more thought, truly wondering if this woman was a Thalmor spy sent to kill her as they had done to her father. "So you are a merchant or a caravan guard." She spoke quite casually, not sounding as if she was attempting to unravel the woman's story, though she was trying to. "What brings a Bosmer..." Hesitating as she remembered that some Bosmer take offense to that term much like Dunmer take offense to that one as well, she looked down before speaking. "I apologize, miss." She spoke once more before looking back to the girl. "What brings and elf such as yourself so far from home? Surely you miss Valenwood." Thinking about how the Bosmer may miss Valenwood, she wondered exactly what her homeland, Cyrodiil, looked like as she was merely four years of age when she left. As her mind drifted slightly, she realized that she never got the Bosmer's name so decided to question once more. "If I may ask, what is your name?"

Watching as Sillivren seemed so nervous, Valia wondered why she seemed that way, only coming back to the conclusion of being a Thalmor spy. It wasn't like Valia to be a pessimist or see the worst in people but during her time as a guard, she saw many suspicious people who ended up being either thieves, murderers, or Stormcloak spies. The last thing a criminal would want is for a guard to approach her and her approach seemed to make this woman nervous making Valia quite skeptical of her true intentions in Solitude. Keeping her eyes on Sillivren and, casually, her surroundings, she took a very light drink from her tankard as she listened to Sillivren nervously speak.

As she listened quite intently, she examined each of her words and 'Riften,' 'Caravan' and 'Horkers' were the ones that stuck in her mind, Caravan mostly because of the Khajiit Caravans and their criminal tendencies. It was rare that Valia ever took racial stereotypes into her own mind but when it came to protecting people, she knew that she could not toss any thought from her mind without at least considering it. Being a Bosmer, to Valia, seemed as if it was more than likely for them to be either living as outlaws in the forests or under the thumb of the Thalmor and Sillivren's claim of being from Riften made it seem more like an outlaw but her appearance in Solitude suggested that she was under the thumb of the Thalmor.

Letting her thoughts drift away as Sillivren finished, Valia placed a very soft smile upon her face and began to speak quite quickly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Sillivren." She spoke with some fake joy and sincerity within her voice. It was not that it was not a pleasure, it was simply because of how the Bosmer spoke and she knew that if something was going on, she could not sound or look suspicious at all. Taking another slight sip from her tankard, she set the brandy down a little bit farther away from her so she would not be constantly tempted to take a sip of it as the brandy was quite strong and she did not wish to become intoxicated when there was a possible threat sitting in front of her. "I am Valia Mallius." She spoke her name plainly and it might be known that a Valia Mallius led the guards at Haalingen or that Marcius Mallius was a higher Legate within the Legion; either way it was likely that she could be recognized by the name.

"I am originally from Cyrodiil but only lived there for... four years before I was brought to Skyrim. I would love to go back there but, just as you were so fascinated by these horkers, I too love the wildlife and people here." Letting herself quiet down for a bit, she reached for her brandy and took another sip from the tankard, truly addicted to either the alcohol or the taste of it, setting it back down after she satisfyingly swallowed it. "I have been saving up to plan a small trip back to Cyrodiil to see the Imperial City in person. I have heard many wonderful things about that place but after the war, it may not be the same as the rumors of it. I suppose I will never know until I see it."

Shortly after she finished speaking, her stomach growled a bit causing her to motion for the wench to come back over, the wench only responding with a light finger for her to wait as she was busy helping another patron. "Would you like something to eat?" She questioned as she looked back over to Sillivren, slowly moving her hand to the pouch that held money that was around her waist. Quickly untying the pouch from her waist, she moved it to the table and opened it, pouring the septims out on the table in such a way that any thief would be tempted to steal it. "I will pay."

It would be a clever or idiotic Thalmor who paid Septims for Sillivren as a spy. Her ability to hold up under any form of questioning was lousy at best, she was near bursting into flames on the spot with just this idle conversation. She tried to remember, as fumes of the unfamiliar drink wafted into her face, the last time she had said down with someone in a tavern. The Bee and Barb was too pricey for her tastes and she had a suspicion the Argonians were doing things to the foodstuffs anyway. She distrusted them without seeing the hypocrisy in it. Were Sillivren able to read minds, she would have found genuine amusement with being considered a bandit or spy. Banditry required the ability to shed blood in exchange for coin, to grasp ones future from another, and to end a life on a regular basis. Sillivren could do none of those things and while she could live off the land if needed, she was not about to take it up on a permanent basis. Hence why she was in this bar, it was warm, dry, and there was food available to the intrepid.

She took the feigned sincerity to heart and gave a sort of half smile toward the other, the upper half of her face shaded by her hood. She cocked her head to the side at the mention of the name Mallius and seemed to be thinking a long moment.
"That name is ah.." She was considering and took a quick sip of her beverage before speaking.
"Did your ever ...ah ..order a ..blade from ..uh..Balimund? I uh..sometimes for ..ah coins I would..keep his books. I know ..ah some figures. " It was all she could think of, she remembered the lists of names because of how exotic they sounded, she sometimes sounded them out aloud when alone. Imperial names rolled off the tongue, smooth and silky names. Hearing how old the other was when she left Cyrodiil built a small link between the two and she spoke quickly.

"I was four when we left Valenwood. We is ah...the ..other children and ..ah priestess. Breton Priestess of ..ah...Arkay. We had to ..go cause ah.." She realized she had said too much already, to speak poorly of the Thalmor to an Imperial was suicide, the two were basically in bed together. She finished the sentence with a shrug and looked back into her drink again.
"It is..ah..part of Dominion now like..uh..Skyrim..like..everywhere, I guess." It was such a depressing image for her, the grasping finely gloved hand of the Thalmor crushing the unique life and spirit out of so many unique and varied places. She nodded to the talk of the wildlife with a faint grin showing some cheer on her part, she had not expected an Imperial of all people to know what wildlife was.
"Cyrodiil must uh...like ..a dwemer ruin you know but ..ah not fallen down..all shiny." She had seen the outside of dwemer ruins and all the metal is what impressed her, the deep golden shine even after so many centuries of disuse.
"I uh...hear Imperial ladies..can ah..wear dresses ...like light ones. No jackets or ah..sleeves." The mention of food brought her head up and she noticed the coins splayed out over the table in a haphazard and tempting fashion.
"Um uh..boiled sweet or ..anything really. I am not picky." Provided it was not mushrooms. She reached out slowly to lift a single coin on the table, then another, and another, and balance them into a little gold table. She kept her eye on the Imperial all the while, her movements slow and careful to show she was not stealing the coinage. Once the small table was erected, she lifted a coin to carefully rest it atop the table, the coins swaying back and forth slightly. She pulled her hand back just for the folded riddle to slide from her bracer, bump the coins, and send them askew over the table.

Still listening to the very awkward Bosmer, Valia let a slight smile appear upon her face once more before taking another drink of brandy from her tankard, looking into the tankard to see that the brandy was very close to being gone with only another swig left. As Sillivren mentioned Balimund, some confusion replaced the smile upon her face as she thought more intently about why she would mention it, her confusion vanishing as she explained that she had kept his books in the passed. Listening to the rest of what Sillivren said, she waited a moment before responding to everything that was said, starting with the comment about Balimund and the sword. "I have never ordered a sword from him, no." She spoke plainly as she thought about why it was questioned, taking the last swig of the brandy before speaking up once more. "But when I did join the legion, I was sent to him in order to retrieve my armor from him. Otherwise, I have never spoken to him."

Just after she finished speaking, the wench quickly moved over to the table and leaned upon it with her arms pressed against her breasts to make them look larger, quickly pushing off as she realized that both people at the table were women. Valia chuckled to herself slightly as she saw how she pushed her breasts together in a failed attempt to lure her customers into purchasing more than they normally would, a much larger smile growing upon her face with her eyes subtly moving to her breasts to admire and envy them. Quickly looking up from the breasts to the wench's face, she began to speak. "I would like another tankard of Cyrodiilic Brandy and whatever you have with venison. Surprise me. And she would like anything boiled or sweet but make it filling." As soon as she finished speaking, the wench glanced to the Bosmer before walking off knowing that through the entire time the Bosmer sat there, she did not once order food.

Looking back to Sillivren after watching the wench walk off, she began thinking what Sillivren had said before she had gotten distracted by the wench, almost immediately remembering as she took hold of her empty tankard, just fiddling with it in her hands. "Before the Thalmor came?" She questioned with a light shake of her head as she was somewhat disappointed that Thalmor had taken over everything, especially with them having bested her homeland. Thinking a bit about what she remembered of the mountains near Bruma, some joy grew upon her face only to be quickly replaced by anger as she spoke up in a sort of quieted voice. "Cyrodiil is not part of the Dominion. The empire will never be controlled by..." Her anger against the Thalmor was obviously shown and she cut herself off before she could say anything that she would regret, truly now hoping that this Bosmer was not a Thalmor agent. Letting herself calm down, she spoke quietly to finish her sentence in a different way. "We are merely allies of the Dominion."

Just after speaking, she allowed herself to become silent as she thought intently about what she believed the Imperial City looked like, a slight smile appearing upon her face. "Sometimes I wish that I still lived there with my father. He was a high official within the Legion and I would have been like a princess in the city with the most amazing of dresses but..." Again, she stopped herself from speaking as she did not like feeling vulnerable or even sad. "But those days cannot be. I am here in Skyrim as a disgraced former Legionnaire who lost everything. All I have is hope that the Empire will see where they made mistakes and decide to rectify them for the betterment of us all." Letting herself fall into silence once more, she looked up from the table and over to Sillivren with a light shake of her head. "I apologize. You were sitting alone and I should have realized that you did not wish to be disturbed. Once the food arrives, I will pay and take my leave." She looks down at the Bosmer's hands to see her fiddling with the money and decided to scoop all that she was not playing with back closer to her before speaking once more. "It has been a pleasure meeting you."

She did not need to drink anymore of this, she weighed as much as a pile of laundry and this drink was bordering on some manner of alchemical poison. It was heady, sweet, and went down easy but the warmth in her belly and the way her mind was swimming was evidence more was at play here. She felt like the colors in the bar were growing in intensity, where once was drab furniture warmed by the amber glows of candlelight was gaining in intensity. She glanced to her sleeve and found the dull fabric had some vestiges of the blue color it once was, an inexplicable blue thread in the color bleached rest.
"Uh...that must be ..ah it. He keeps ah good books but you have to because the guild likes to ah..ch..." She never finished that sentence because she had the dubious luck of glancing up as the wench approached with her ample cleavage on display. She stared one awkward moment before her face reddened and she glanced downward again.

She felt a rise in jealousy, the ample roundness of the humans came to them so easily. They wore their femininity effortlessly with ample hips and chests pressing against sturdy fabrics, the Nords especially even had pale skin with corn silk hair. Having grown up surrounded by them, she could only feel lacking with her nut brown skin and slender build. The occasional Altmer unlucky enough to visit Riften was no help, they were taller than the Bosmer so the lankiness became elegance. The closest creature that Sillivren could find solidarity with were the foxes that traveled the land carefully avoiding larger predators.

The alcohol dulled her self conciousness enough to speak abruptly in response to the other's comment about the Dominion.
"You say that but the Thalmor take everything over.They..c..come and then it all goes to Oblivion and then you uh..live under their ah boot, forever. Oh uh..it says allies but uh it is like how ..ah cows are our allies. We own cows, eat them eventually, bu..but for a little bit we ..uh let them..eat grass. I uh..remember them telling me uh..about Valenwood. " Her tone dropped and she realized somewhere inside she was going too far but the alcohol was liquid courage. She gestured awkwardly as she spoke.

"It was not enough for uh..us to be in the Dominion. We ..uh didn't want to be. But no not uh..enough. We have to ah..uh die. Uh huh..that is why they took us ..ah children out of uh..Valenwood. Not all the ..uh children. Some because they said no one would check a ah..Bosmer's cart. I guess they uh...still doing it but the uh..Imperials never hear about that. " She felt a rush of sentimental emotion for a land she could not remember, very unlike her. She looked down at the empty glass and realized with misery she was drunk. She went silent, listening to the talk of the other's fall from grace.

"Hey uh..can you..stay? If..if you want? You uh..have been nice. " She held up the paper with a wavering hand.
"Are you uh...good with riddles?"

Listening to Sillivren's words made Valia realize that what she was saying was true; the Empire is merely being used by the Dominion for their own gains, likely purely the eradication of Talos worship. Shaking her head to herself, she looked down at her Brandy and almost immediately picked it up and downed the entire tankard, feeling very disappointed in herself for supporting a puppet empire. Shaking off her pessimistic thoughts, she continued to think about how the Empire was not a puppet as she knew that the Empire only came to Skyrim, not to start war, but to unite the people and gain reinforcements for the attempts at another war against the Dominion. The Empire were no puppets. They are men and women who are forced to abide with the Thalmor in fear of death if they do not. But Valia would not abide. Slowly reaching down to her pouch, holding the Amulet of Talos within it, she thought about it quite a bit and smile as she remembered what her father was fighting for, only to be slaughtered unfairly by the corrupt and tyrannical Thalmor.

Realizing that Sillivren was still talking, Valia looked up to her and felt somewhat bad about not having been paying attention, quickly sweeping the money, not taken by Sillivren to make her table, into her pouch, letting the girl have some fun with a few extra coins. Moving the empty tankard to the side, she placed another smile upon her face and listened to what the Bosmer had left to say, even if it made no sense due to her not listening to the whole comment. Finally feeling the effects of the Brandy, Valia leaned back in her chair and listened to Sillivren as she mentioned she could stay and questioned about riddles. A larger smile appeared upon her face as she noticed the flier in her hand but quickly removed it so that it would not seem as if she has seen it before. "I suppose I am decent at riddles but have never been one for them." She spoke plainly, telling the honest truth despite hiding the fact that she wrote the riddle.

Just after speaking, that sentence, the wench appeared once more with two plates in her hand, one of the plates containing a Boiled Creme Treat while the other held a large piece of Venison surrounded by various vegetables like leeks, carrots, and potatoes. Next to the Venison was a medium sized piece of bread. Just after arriving, the wench slowly lowered the plates to the table in front of the two, with the food being given to the right person, of course. As she set the plates down, Valia dumped some of the gold from her pouch into her hand and counted it up, knowing the price of the Venison meal, as she had gotten it many times before, and assuming the price of the treat that was given to Sillivren. "Here you go." She spoke as she handed the septims to the wench, slipping an extra two septims into her hand with a smile. "This is for you." As she gave the last two septims to the woman, she examined her breasts once more as, to her, the size seemed unrealistic, realizing the clothes and exotic poses were what made them seem larger than they actually were.

Picking up a small leek in her right hand, she looked back to Sillivren only to have her vision blurring a little due to the Brandy, somewhat wishing she did not order another. "I can try to help but I am not truly certain how I will do." She spoke plainly as the wench returned with her brandy, placing it down on her left side with a smile, Valia looking back down to the tankard with some joy within her due to loving her peoples' brandy. Looking back to Sillivren once more, she took a bite of the leek and began to speak. "What does it say?"

The Bosmer, realizing she was three sheets, snatched up the sweet and took a healthy bite to soak up the brew swirling in her stomach. The boiled nature of it gave the sweet a sheen, a smooth flat texture with a jellied puddle of cream. Sillivren was quite handy with a cookpot and a hearth and she knew her way about the foodstuffs of the region so she was fairly confident in saying it was absolute rubbish. It fought the tooth like a damp stack of paper and tasted of dust. Still, it had absorbent qualities that would allay waking up in the Solitude jail because she told the cook what she felt of their skills. Either that and never waking up and ending her life featured as a special stew.

She mumbled a low and almost indecipherable thank you to the buxom wench, embarrassing to look sideways and catch a glimpse of more than she should. She chewed slowly after the first bite, not her choice. It was the texture of the dessert was liable to choke her to death if she attacked it wolfishly, she wondered inwardly if they used flour or just prayed to Namira to make these things appear. She unfolded the paper and laid it flat, smoothing it with her hands and turning it so the other could read it.

"Sorta ..understanding it a bit. I uh..wonder about who wrote it cause if they have ..uh..seen a Falmer, well they got stones you ..ah need a wheelbarrow to uh...tote around. " She ran her fingers down the verse, translating it in her own sense as she went.

"So uh..Come on and all, join the ah..journey and see the hall. Within the barrow will be ..uh yourself. But beware you may uh..see elves. Which is uh..odd. Friends in ..ah Riften..always says that Draugr lived in uh..barrows and Thalmer lived in uh..ruins. Maybe they have to uh..make it rhyme." She continued onward then, read it off in a sing song voice.

"The Rumors have been uh..spread you ah..see. On a island where uh..we shall be. Well uh, that does not uh narrow it down much. Just come to uh Solitude and you will ah sink. I have no idea there. Maybe hard to rhyme with uh making a ah Skeever Wink. Which is uh...why I am in here." She shook her head and forced down the rest of the sweet, sadly washing it down with the dregs of her liquor.

"So uh..When you ah find me use the uh code. And you ah will be welcome to my abode. Read one ah line and you will uh see. Tell ah ...a guard the number three. So uh..I figured wierd writing so take all uh..capitals right?" She pointed to the listed Capitals alongside the page. "But it doesn't spell anything..." She sighed.
"The only guess I have is uh..the code word is uh..barrow. But thats not it." She scratched briefly at her hairline, pulling down a long lock of red hair.

Different Random Guard Interested in Morwen

Having been leaning against a wall not too far away from the gates of Solitude, a random guard listened intently to the conversations around but seemed to be more intrigued by the Breton girl throwing questions at the guards at the gates. As Morwen mentioned the word 'three', the guard pushed himself off of the wall and slowly moved away from it and over to the gates, completely curious as to what that word meant. Having read the flier himself, some intrigued appeared within him but it he knew that he was, both, not smart enough to solve the riddle and too poor to even attempt to follow it. The Nord Guard slowly moved through the city to see Silgvar passing him, nodding lightly to seem polite with the strong words of "Evening, Kinsman" exiting his mouth before continuing to the Breton without caring for a response from Silgvar.

It did not take long for the guard to reach the gate, as he did not stand too far away to begin with, and reached it quite quickly due to his distance. "I may know what you mean." He spoke up as he approached Morwen, looking at the other two gate guards to see some confusion upon their faces at the number. Turning away from Morwen, he looked at the other guards and nodded politely before speaking once more. "I can take it from here."

The other two guards nodded in response to his comment but remained standing there, the Nord Guard looking back to Morwen with a smile. "I have seen the fliers around the city and was only able to decipher a portion of the riddle but I know someone who may know more." He slowly turned and looked over to the Winking Skeever as he spoke, lifting his right hand to point at the bar. "In the Winking Skeever is a woman named Valia Mallius. She loves riddles and may be able to help you."

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Valia Mallius in the Winking Skeever

Looking down at the flier as Sillivren spoke, Valia read along with her words and tilted her head to the side slightly as she made herself appear to be stumped and confused. "Elves may not be Falmer." She spoke plainly as she looked up from the flier and over to Sillivren before letting a slight sigh out. "Any race with the end of 'Mer' is a type of elf. Falmer, Bosmer, Dunmer, Altmer. Even Orismer and Dwemer are types of elves." Letting herself stall with words as she made it seem as if she was thinking, Valia grabbed her tankard and took another drink of the brandy despite already feeling slightly drunk. Slowly lowering the tankard from her lips, she looked back down at the flier and nodded. "From what my father taught me, Falmer reside primarily within the ruins of the Dwemer and it is unlikely they could come to the surface. I suppose it is possible for Falmer to be in the Nordic Ruins but I do not think that they would be so we can remove them as a possibility."

Looking back down at the flier, she began moving her right index finger along the portion as she began to read it. "But beware, you may see elves." As she finished reading that line, she looked back up to Sillivren with a slight nod. "As for that part, I suppose it all depends on how the writer feels about the elven races. It seems most likely that the writer is a Stormcloak as most of them hate other races but it could be anyone else who just feels an elven race is dangerous."

Letting her eyes move back to the flier, she nodded slightly before looking back to Sillivren with a confused expression upon her face before looking back down at the flier. "Why do some of the words within the middle of this begin with capital letters?" She questioned with some confusion within her voice, moving her finger from word to word as she read them off. "'And', 'Hall', 'Barrow', 'Solitude', 'Skeever', 'Wink', 'One', 'Guard', 'Three'." Just after speaking, she looked back up to Sillivren and took another drink of her brandy, speaking once more. "Those words must be important if they are written a bit differently than the rest. Skeever and Wink obviously means the Winking Skeever in Solitude and Barrow and Hall likely mean the destination where this flier leads." Shaking her head after speaking, she let a sigh leave her lungs. "The rest does not seem very easy."

Morwen was a little surprised, but also pleased. She'd certainly not been able to puzzle the riddle out herself, not beyond the evident call to gather in Solitude, in the Winking Skeever. "Thank you," she replied, and stepped back before turning away to venture through the gate, following after the burly Nord and walking toward the tavern. Indeed, as it seemed that their destination was the same, she hurried forward and held the tavern door open for him, before making her way directly toward the counter which the bartender was currently polishing.

It was as though the day's weariness and the travel hit her all at once. Almost beyond the curiosity driving her quest, she wanted to have a meal, and a bath, and sleep. But first things first.

"Hello," Morwen greeted the man, leaning heavily on the bar as she did so. "Do you have a room free?"

"We do," he replied. "Luckily enough. We're quite busy tonight." He turned to call to another Imperial, obviously his son from the similar cast to his features. "Sorex! Fetch up another barrel like I told you!" He turned back to Morwen. "I'll get him to show you to your room in a bit. You'll be wanting something to eat as well?" It was an more of an assumption than an actual question.

"Yes please," Morwen said, feeling her stomach rumbling. "What do you have?"

"We can make pretty much anything that pleases you. But I'd recommend the stew," he answered.

"The stew, then," she said. "And mead please. Black Briar if you have it."

He nodded, and turned away, starting to fill a tankard for her. "Not often we get a mage from the College in here," he observed casually, looking over her as he handed the tankard and noting her robes and circlet.

"I suppose not," Morwen said. "I've not been out of the College often myself. Oh - but that reminds me," she went on, lifting a finger. "One of the gate guards suggested that I might want to ask after someone called... Valia Mallius?"

For answer he simply nodded over toward a table where an Imperial woman and a Bosmer sat together. The Imperial woman was obviously a guard off duty, still in her armour. The Bosmer was sat leaning over a familiar piece of parchment, and Morwen's excitement heightened as she recognised it.

"Thank you," she murmured towards the bartender absently, looking straight over at the occupants of the table.

She gave the guard a somewhat sour look at the remedial lesson about what mer went. As a Bosmer, she felt a bit more qualified on the whole matter but she had to admit, Valius was right. It could refer to a whole gamut of elven races. She bit her thumb and tapped the note in a steady pattern of beats, like a song to her inner thoughts at the moment.
"Altmer. To be fair ah...we others are uh...less threatening." She added and glanced toward the Breton near the bar being convinced the stew was edible. Sillivren thought otherwise but she was not so big in the world as to consider saying as much. When the woman looked straight at her table her head dropped and her face was once again hidden within the earth tones of her hood. That was trouble, that woman appeared to know what she wanted.

"Bit about uh...finding ah guard. Easy enough." She said simply and pushed the paper toward Valius as a candle lit inside her head.

"You uh are only guard I see so uh, I am supposed to uh bring it to you. So if I ah follow the riddle the answer is uh...gibberish." She ran her fingers along it as she spoke, slower so she could be understood.

"One, Guard. Three. Either that or OGT. Whichever, there I ah...solved it. I uh.." Then she went quiet as she hadn't the foggiest idea of what solving it was supposed to solve for her. It gave her a vague sense of accomplishment but neither coin or employment.

Casually glancing over her shoulder as Sillivren hid her face, Valia noticed the Breton staring in their direction but turned back to Sillivren knowing that she was staring for a reason only to hear her bring up the Altmer. Responding to her words of the Altmer with a nod, she looked down at the flier, listening to her words about the guard only to see her sliding the flier closer to her. As she mentioned the fact that she was a guard and that the flier was hers, some false confusion appeared upon her face as if she did not expect what was said to be said. Despite pretending to be confused, she allowed Sillivren to finish speaking before retaliating with words of her own. "I may be a guard in the Winking Skeever but it does not mean I am the guard specified within the riddle." Her voice seemed quite stern as a serious expression appeared upon her face. "Many guards come to this tavern and ever since this flier came around, we have been accosted. Please do not think me as the guard in this riddle. I can help you, but I am not who you are looking for."

Her words seemed to be highly defensive as she spoke which seemed quite normal due to the fact that guards would have been approached with codes for this riddle and would likely get quite irritating over time. Looking back down at the flier, she let her eyes scan across the page with a deep exhale as she thought about the riddle, letting her right index finger scan over it. "You know that you are supposed to speak to a guard so that word should not lead to the code. There are two numbers, 'One' and 'Three', that could lead to the code. Maybe you should focus less on the letters and more on the words themselves." Slowly standing from her chair as she spoke, she took the two empty tankards in her hands and looked over her shoulder once more toward the Breton, looking back to Sillivren as she spoke once more. "I will be back soon. Think about any other words that you have not followed and maybe that can lead you to the code."

As she finished speaking, she quickly walked over to the bar with her eyes trailing over the bar itself without making it seem as if she knew that Morwen was looking at her. Glancing over at the bard as she walked, she let a slight smile appear upon her face as she listened to 'Ragnar the Red.' As she reached the bar, between Morwen and Silgvar, she handed the two tankards to the bartender with a smile upon her face as she began to speak. "Could you fill one of those with Cyrodiilic Brandy?" Thinking about the brandy, her alcoholism took over and she quickly spoke up once more with her smile fading from her face. "Actually... I would like both of those filled." The bartender nodded in response and began to fill them up. As she waited for the tankards to be filled, she leaned upon the counter with Morwen in the corner of her vision to keep an eye on her as she, both, never trusted Mages and was slightly paranoid that the Thalmor had found her out.

"Well, that makes three of us," Morwen observed in response to the wry comment from the Nord, noticing the pamphlet in front of the Nord for the first time. "Four of us, as the Bosmer over there is puzzling over it as well." She wondered why the Bosmer was trying to avoid drawing attention to herself. She seemed anxious, obviously trying to keep her head down and not be noticed. Which, of course, was more noticeable than not doing so. Perhaps she was worried about the possibility of Thalmor agents? There might well be one or two people in here who had taken coin to report back on events. Or perhaps she simply didn't like mages. Morwen sighed inwardly.

She watched the Imperial woman approach, and it seemed obvious to her this must be Valia Mallius. After all, it was an Imperial name, and certainly did not belong to the Bosmer. Morwen was slightly taken aback as the woman ordered Cyrodillian brandy, in tankards, and two of them at once. She watched for a moment, then looked away. It wasn't her place to say anything, so she didn't.

Instead, "Excuse me," she said politely, addressing the guardswoman directly and looking straight at her. "You must be Valia? Valia Mallius? One of the gate guards suggested I might speak with you. I understand that you're trying to solve the riddle as well. I'm Morwen," she introduced herself, "Morwen Argall. From the College of Winterhold."

Glancing over in front of Silgvar as she waited for her Brandy, she noticed the flier in front of him and let out a sigh in her head as she could tell that he was trying to figure it out as well which made her want to get away from him as soon as possible only to be stopped as she heard a voice appearing to her left from the female Breton. "Did Tholard tell you my name?" She questioned as she looked over at Morwen, shifting her body so that she was leaning sideways upon the bar, obvious irritation upon her face. "He tells everyone I like riddles even if they have only been here for mere minutes..."

Shaking her head slightly, she let out a sigh and removed the irritation from her face as she felt somewhat bad about shoving that in Morwen's face. "I am Valia Mallius but I am not trying to solve this riddle." As she spoke in a stern voice, she completely emphasized the word 'not' due to the fact that she did not care to solve it. Despite the irritation fading, it returned quite quickly as she spoke as she was not the biggest fan of magic or magic users; this being for no particular reason. She just dislikes it. It is too powerful. Glancing over her shoulder at Sillivren, she let out a slight sigh and looked back to Morwen. "I suppose you should go talk to that Bosmer. She is also attempting to figure out the riddle and I suppose since you two are here, you figured some of it out."

Just as she finished speaking, the bartender placed the tankards on the counter and Valia smiled with a light nod, reaching into her money pouch to pull out some gold and place it upon the counter. Looking back to Morwen as she takes the tankards by the handles, she nods slightly as she speaks once more. "I can help but I am not the guard you are looking for." She spoke in a calm voice, finally not seeming very irritated, as she took a large drink from the brandy in her right hand with hopes of getting truly drunk as her day did not seem to be best for her. She slowly turns away from Morwen and starts to walk away but stops almost immediately and turns back with a slight smile upon her face. "It is a pleasure meeting you, Morwen." She spoke as she stood there with a light smile upon her face.

"Hmm. But I wasn't looking for a guard." Morwen commented. She wondered if Valia knew what she seemed to be letting on, or if she simply did not realise the emphasis her words appeared to have. If Valia was implying that it was a guardsman, then... did she know a guardsman who was the contact? If so, it would be easier by far if she just talked to them. If not, then presumably she was making assumptions from the last line of the riddle.

At that moment however, her stew was ladled into a bowl and set before her at the bar. She turned back and lifted the wooden spoon up and tasted it. It was good, filling and hot even if it was just the sticky dregs at the end of the day. At this point in time, any food was good. She didn't say much for several moments as she ate. Then she set the spoon down.

She turned her head to one side, addressing the Nord and finally looking at him for the first time. Massive and bulky, like most Nord males were to her, he appeared to have a rather fascinating scar on his face, as though some wild beast had clawed at him. Most likely a hunter, she supposed. "I think I will join the Bosmer, if she'll permit it. If you're interested in this matter as well I'll happily share what I have worked out. Although I'll admit," she said, with a sigh, "I've more eliminated what the answer isn't than found out what it is..."

Morwen shifted, the better to adjust her heavy satchel, and then rose, bowl of stew in one hand and tankard in the other. Her intended destination was clear.

The Bosmer watched Valia approach, remaining still and silent as he heard the Imperial's apology. She cocked her head slighgtly to the side and frowned before giving her a nod.
"No ah need to apologize. I am uh..sorry for being such a ..uh pest. You have to uh..work so hard because ah..criminals and what guards do..." Sillivren felt inwardly guards drew pay for hassling unfortunate outliers on normal society like herself with the occasional interlude of whinging about how much work they had to do. She kept it diplomatically to herself as he noticed how much Valia had drunk. It seemed impossible but those amounts of hard liquor could bring about a change in someone. Was it a change for the more sentimental and kind? Would it adjust with Daedra like speed into the cruel and forceful? She felt as if she standing on a tightrope and navigated carefully ahead from here.
"Why uh...has the months been ah..hard for you? " Her eye caught the approaching Breton with her stew and her brow furrowed into worry, her hood shading the upper portion of her face. She thought she heard that woman introduce herself but the tavern noise obscured all but Winterhold from her keen ears. Winterhold was said to be a few peasants shacks huddled in the shadows of the immense college. This woman could be either a much feared and loathed mage or just some helpless peasant who fled for a better life. It was hard to say and Sillivren folded her hands before her, working her fingers against one another until the leather of her gloves creaked in complaint.

"Uh was uh..reading the ah riddle and .." She felt turmoil about talking before the approaching Bosmer and then shrugged helplessly.
"All that makes sense is ...And. But that is uh...gibberish. I guess I ..give up. Thank you for the food. I uh..maybe go..." Go where? She had nowhere to go, she had missed the caravan. However, the industrious could always find something to do, legal or not.

Morwen had almost forgotten how much outsiders disliked mages until the Bosmer's anxiety was made clear. Up until just this last day or so, she had either been in the company of other mages or had been being paid for her services by adventurers who valued them. Well, that was as it was. Given a chance to know her better they'd soon learn she was decent enough.

"Excuse me," she said, gently but firmly. "I'm Morwen, Morwen Argall." She didn't feel the need to state her profession again - it was obvious enough from her robes. "I wondered if you might permit me to join you? I understand you have an interest in solving this pamphlet as well? I'd happily share what I have at least ruled out. Perhaps, if we were to put our heads together, we might have more of a chance of finding the key?" She waited for an answer with tankard and bowl still in hand, aware that the edgy Bosmer might well decide to refuse.

Listening to Sillivren intently as she spoke, her head spun due to how much she had to drink but she was still very able to understand what was being said by the Bosmer but, as she questioned why the months had been bad, a frown appeared upon her face as she thought intently about why the months were horrible for her. "It is nothing." She replied plainly with much sadness within her voice, staring into her drink as she thought once more as she shook her head. "It is just that..." She let her words fade out due to the sadness but let some silence overtake her as she thought about her father and all that she had lost, looking quickly back up to Sillivren with surprise upon her face as she spoke the code-word. "Did you just say..."

Before she could finish speaking, Morwen had approached the table and began to speak up causing her to finish speaking and look over her shoulder to see Morwen standing behind her and introducing herself to Sillivren. She reached for her tankard and took a very slight sip from it as she moved it to her mouth, listening to the Breton with a new thought appearing in her. As Morwen finished speaking, she looked back over to Sillivren with a slight smile upon her face, glancing down at the septims that she had left there when she built the small table out of them. Reaching into her pouch, she pulled out seven more septims and placed them before Sillivren with the smile remaining upon her face, speaking very quietly hoping that only Sillivren could hear her. "Use this money to pay for a room. I want you to stay around as we must speak more soon." Through her words, the word 'must' was emphasized as if it were very important.

As soon as she finished speaking, she slowly stood from her chair and picked the platter of Venison and the only full tankard from the table, looking back to Morwen with a smile. "Take my seat. I must meet with someone." Those words seemed to be filled with a sort of joy and kindness within them, none of her words making it even seem as if she were drunk. Lightly nodding to Morwen, she slowly walked away and over to the bar, leaning upon it as she reached it. Placing her platter and tankard down upon the bar, she looked over at Silgvar causing her smile to fade from her face. "It seems we have gotten many new faces in Solitude these days. What is your name?"