From: Balefire <lloret@gol.com>
Kevin Gwartney wrote:

>     [slash]
>      "Charge?"
>      "Yes. A master of words. He hails from Skyrim, and was scribing the
> feats of the party in its quest."
>      Something about the to'khar's eyes changed. An edge of...what? Fear?
> Anxiety? He cleared his throat.
>      "A scribe?" he whispered. Then he spoke the name as if its very sound
> hurt his ears. "Alduin..?"
>      K'tarin nodded warily. "You know him?"
>      The leader's shoulders fell. A khajiit -- K'tarin hadn't noticed her
> before -- lept forward. Her eyes were bright, and the wear of the storm
> seemed to fall away from her. Her face boadened into a grin.
>      "*The* Alduin dor Lammoth? That old rascal! He's still jaunting about
> on wild adventures?"
>      K'tarin was taken aback. "Yes...he is with us."
>      She supressed a giggle and immediately walked off at a brisk pace with
> the Werre in tow.
>

Balefire rose in his stirrups to watch the meeting of K'tarin and his fellow
Werre.  A faint smile hovered over his bearded lips as he saw that the meeting
appeared friendly.  The warmage spoke just loudly enough to be heard by his
companions.  "Those Werre were coming to attack us, or I'm a green recruit.  It
seems as if whatever K'tarin has told them has headed that off, at least for
now.  From what I have read of the Werre, 'tis entirely possible they resent our
presence on this, their ancient battlefield.  Had I a choice, I should not be
walking over their ancestors' bones at all, and perhaps they can be made to see
that have not come to violate their tradtions, but to fulfill them.  We shall
see."

Twilight loosened her sword in its scabbard and stretched a kink out of her
shoulder muscles.  "We have no quarrel with them, 'tis certain.  A bit more
waiting can not be amiss; I am content to bide awhile.  J'layah and I will ride
with you whenever you decide, swordbrother."

The Dark Elf eyed the rest of the party curiously.  "Well, heroes, who among you
will be riding with us, and who will not?"

Frowning slightly, the warmage noticed Alduin scrabbling frantically through a
pouch.  "What ails you, Scribe?  Have you misplaced something?  Mayhap you
dropped something in that hole wherein we sheltered last night?"