The Moorside Inn, like many others of its kind scattered throughout the province, was almost stereotypically Nordic; well built, sturdy, and most importantly, warm from the roaring hearth built into its centre. Tall walls and a sloped ceiling with a single capped vent in the highest point allowed the smoke from the fire to escape, and dozens of tables, chairs and stools were laid about the interior in a seemingly haphazard fashion. What it didn't seem to contain though, were patrons, and as the trio entered they found themselves the centre of attention to the handful of people within.

  "Well... This looks inviting..." Already, the bottle of mead was half drained as Sofia stepped in behind Kaius, and peered around him. Other than a couple of guards, a towering orc somehow squeezed into a split sleeved doublet holding a lute, and the inn's proprietor, the interior was entirely empty.

  "And with as much cheer as a temple of Arkay." Kaius muttered, giving a rough smile to the collection of chainmail wearing guards, and the Orc who seemed to be either attempting to play or strangle the lute he was holding.

  Glasses, mugs and a handful of flagons were arranged along the bar and hanging from hooks along the rear wall, a pair of ovens and stoves sitting cold and unused, but the smell of hot food was still present within the tavern. Despite the relatively early hour of the morning, the guards were busy with their mugs of mead and locally brewed ale, their chainmail and tabards hanging as heavy as their weariness as they shared drinks after their night patrols. The alcohol was the only thing that was giving them any true solace, as the orc bard’s attempts at ‘music’ was more of a physical assault, or a headache given audial form.

  “Greetings. My name is Kaius, and this is Sofia and Lydia.” Wasting no time, Kaius had ignored the way the guards were watching the trio, especially the heavily armoured Lydia as they approached the bar and the tavern owner. “We are looking to stay a night or two. Possibly more."

  Weariness, and a small measure of concern was evident on the owner’s expression, but at the mention of possible customers the older redguard woman practically sighed, and slumped in relief.

  “Finally, customers. Welcome to the Moorside. I’m Jonna, and you’ve come to the right place if you want somewhere dry to spend the nights. I’ll be able to rent you a room…” Slowly, she glanced between the three of them, seeing the subtle tenseness, especially between Sofia and Lydia as they stood either side of Kaius before thinking better on her offer. “Or maybe three.”

  "Three will be preferred." Ignoring the way Sofia whined and offhandedly complained about yet again not sharing a bed with him in a way that was mostly in jest, Kaius nodded while reaching into his coin pouch. “What sort of meals have you got available?”

  Without even needing to turn to look to check, Jonna looked Kaius in the eye, a long suffering smile on her face that briefly lifted as Kaius placed some coins down on the bar. In less than a second she scooped up the handful of copper and silver septims with all the skill of a conjurer.

  “There ain’t much to offer, and really I don’t have much more than time these days with the lack of customers and all.” Her fingers lingered in her own coin purse for a moment or two while attempting to calculate how many other septims the three of them were carrying before answering. “I have some roasts keeping warm, and some soups as well.”

  “I’ll have some mead.” Echoed Sofia’s voice as she followed Lydia, and claimed a seat at a table near one of the walls.

  “That’s not food, Sofia.”

  “Sure it is. You take water, add honey, maybe some fruit or a bit of spice. Mead is just soup in a bottle.”

  With a glance between her new customers, especially the way Lydia's armoured body thudded alarmingly onto a bench, followed by her helmet and aventail onto the table, Jonna was obviously treating them with a measure of suspicion. The guards however found their interest gained by the way that Lydia was revealed to be a woman once her helmet was removed.

  “I’ll have soup.” Unlike Sofia with her hair jumbled into just enough semblance of a ponytail to keep it out of her face, Lydia’s was perfectly maintained. Both sides of her head were closely shaven, her long, shoulder length hair carefully braided in a manner that allowed her to wear a padded coif and her helmet without it getting in the way. In a lot of ways, she was the epitome of Whiterun’s warrior class which typically was the exact sort of thing that rubbed Sofia in all the wrong ways.

  “I’ll have one of your roasts.” Kaius added, punctuated by the wooden thunk of Lydia’s shield leaning against the table as the nordic huskarl shook it off her armoured forearm.

  “Duck, or venison?”

  “Duck.” More coins came out of his purse and followed their brethren into Jonna’s hands, again disappearing with an almost unseemly haste as though they were the first coins she had acquired recently. Judging by the lack of customers, they probably were.

  "So, what's the plan o'great and masterful hero?"

  The table almost groaned in protest as a growing collection of items began appearing on its surface, especially once Kaius moved over to the two women and similarly removed the items that got in the way of sitting down or eating. A pair of daggers and a shortsword, wrapped in its sheath and belt, almost bounced as Sofia removed them from her side, followed quickly by a jolt that ran through the table’s legs as Lydia rested her axe against her shield. With some amusement, Sofia noted the way that the huskarl had purposefully sat with her back to the wall in a position where she would see the entirety of the tavern at all times. She also had ensured that her family’s heirloom axe Hahkunstun was placed where she could grasp it at a moment’s notice.

  "We gather supplies; enough for a few days' journey at least, and then head north." With a thud, Kaius added his own broadsword to the table after unbuckling its belt, sitting down on a chair of his own with a jingle of chainmail.

  "To Ustengrav." With a gloved finger, Lydia scratched at the side of her head, using the steel plate of the gauntlet to rub the shaved sides of her head, now that her helmet was removed and coif pulled back.

  "Where you need to find the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller." Knife in hand, Sofia finally managed to scrape away enough of the wax from her second bottle before popping its cork out as well. "I had heard he was a little horny."

  "That wasn't the best joke the first time you said it."

  "Yeah... Sorry. Even for me it's a terrible one."

  "We don't have enough coin left for any serious undertaking." Lydia's voice, as always, was cold and devoid of emotion. Not for the first time Sofia sat staring at the huskarl, wondering whether she was some fiendishly clever dwemer animunculi made to appear human. In a lot of ways, and from her personal experience with other huskarls in her travels, it appeared a lack of emotion, and sense of humour were practically requirements to become one of Skyrim’s Oath-Sworn elite.

  "True. I was hoping that there was going to be work here for us, but judging by the state of this place I have my doubts. The bounty boards outside were very sparse."

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  "I still don't know why we didn't do further contracts with the Companions before we left." Leaning back in her chair, Sofia shrugged and began taking careful sips instead of mouthfuls from her bottle. "I mean; it's not like they were having any trouble with contracts after everyone found out they had the Dragonborn with them."

  "They had jobs on offer but there weren’t that many available to us."

  "Meaning Vilkas was still pissed with the way you put him on his arse."

  “Surprisingly no. Vilkas was fine. Skjor though…"

  "I don't know what you did to piss him off." The alcohol was starting to dig its warm fingers into her brain and Sofia giggled, remembering the way that Skjor had been acting around Kaius. She had seen wolf pack leaders and their rivals with less tension and hostility between them, than Kaius and the senior Companion.

  "We had differences in our professional opinions."

  "And Aela?" Both Lydia and Sofia raised eyebrows at Kaius’s words, as Sofia asked the question. In the time since their return from High Hrothgar and preparations for travelling into Hjallmarch, the Companions leadership had become markedly hostile towards Kaius. It had been one of the many reasons why the three of them had embarked on the journey earlier than they intended.

  "Similar problem. Aela and Skjor offered me a position as a member of the Circle. I turned it down."

  The silence was deafening, and Kaius looked up as Jonna appeared with their meals still steaming from the ovens, placing the bowls down in front of Kaius and Lydia, and providing Sofia with her third bottle of mead for the day. Despite the rough appearance of the meals, and the fact the roast duck flesh was practically swimming in its own juices, all three of them had to admit that it smelled good.

  “You refused such an honour, my Thane?”

  "Yes.” Roasted duck flesh came apart as Kaius ripped a leg from the body and dug his teeth into it, chewing carefully while deep in thought. “There were certain… ‘conditions’… of membership that were not feasible. While I’m still a member of the Companions, they are going to be discussing what to do for a while I think."

  The tone of his voice left a chill crawling its way up Sofia's spine that no amount of fire or alcohol could remove. It was a tone she had heard several times over the previous months that they had travelled together, and one that only she knew the true meaning of. He was subtly letting Sofia know that whatever had happened, it had something to do with his vampirism, but for the life of her she couldn’t work out how or what it could be. Especially how that was the sort of revelation that would make most people attack Kaius on sight, rather than simply increasing tensions between them.

  "So now what? We go begging in the streets?"

  "Not really." Leaning back on the bench, he looked over to the bar where Jonna was refilling the local guard's flagons with some potent, locally brewed ale. "Hey, Jonna. Is there any work in Morthal, or maybe people who might be looking for some help?"

  Jonna's expression was grave but she thought to herself momentarily as she continued providing the guards refills. There was no mistaking the way that her eyes briefly returned to the collection of weapons and armour that Kaius, Sofia, and Lydia had piled on the table.

  "Not much for adventurers or mercenaries I'm afraid. There’s more of a call for labourers with how the Jarl seems oblivion-bent on the city having a proper palisade."

  “Palisade?”

  One of the guards nodded his thanks to Jonna, raising his mug to her in a toast before looking over to the three new arrivals.

  “First wall Morthal will ever have. The Jarl ordered its construction about five months ago, and it’s about a quarter done. Seemed to be a waste of time until all the talk of dragons and what’s been happening between the ‘Cloaks and ‘perials. Morthal is a quiet place most of the time.”

  “So business is normally this slow?”

  The comment made the guardsmen and Jonna chuckle. Even the orc, while listening and giving them all a break from what, with considerable intoxication, could be interpreted as ‘music’ laughed in sympathy.

  "Slow? Nah, it just ain't there at all. Few enough reasons to pass through Morthal at the best of times, let alone since the war started. Now...?" The sigh from Jonna this time was almost heart breaking as the older woman looked over her practically empty tavern. "Well, let's just say the front door doesn't get much use."

  "Her back door must be getting all the attention instead." What started as a giggle was cut off in mid-breath as Kaius rolled his head, and gave Sofia a withering stare that he usually reserved for supporters of the Thalmor.

  "If you lot are really looking for work," One of the guards said, spinning around on the bench he was seated on, and rubbing at a shoulder clad in chainmail. "the Jarl might have something."

  "A bounty?"

  "Nah. A few weeks back there was a fire that burned down a house."

  “Doesn’t seem that unusual in a city of this size. I’d expect that there would be a dozen house fires a month.”

  “Well, yeah. But this one is a bit… different.”

  “Oi.” Leaning over and placing his flagon down, one of the other guards elbowed his comrade in the ribs with a jingling of chainmail. “You’ll be summoning the draugr talking about that place.”

  "Bugger off, Beltus. There hasn’t been a draugr in these parts for years." A good natured elbow was returned in kind and the first guard rolled his eyes. "The old Raven's been looking for someone who isn't as superstitious as this idiot. Don’t ask me her reasoning, but she has a habit of being right all the damned time.”

  "The Raven?"

  "Our Jarl." Jonna moved over and collected Sofia's pair of empty bottles as she responded to Lydia’s question. "Idgrod Ravencrone. A few weeks ago a house burned down a few blocks away. A mother and her daughter didn’t make it."

  "They didn't make it?" There had been times where Sofia had seen the darkness within Kaius, a darkness that clouded his eyes as they stared off into far away places, or into the depths of his memories. Usually it was when he thought she wasn’t paying that much attention, but the darkness was definitely there, as he listened to Jonna.

  “Morthal is a fairly tight-knit community. A tragedy like that strikes everyone. It didn’t help that the screams woke up damned near everyone, but now most folk won’t go near the ruins for fear it’s cursed.

  "How did the fire start?" For a moment at least, the mead released its growing grip on her mind, and Sofia's voice was soft as she asked the obvious question.

  "Hroggar claims it was a hearth fire. Some Folks say Hroggar started it himself."

  "With his wife and child inside?"

  "That's what they say. See... he's living with Alva now. He started living with her the day after the fire." The mention of Alva made two of the guards snicker to themselves and this time it was Jonna's turn to provide a withering stare at her patrons . "It ain't right, movin' in with a new love the day after your kin die like that."

  “This might sound a bit rude.” Sofia said, not really caring whether it was or not. “But why is the Jarl taking an interest in this? This isn’t exactly a rare situation to occur throughout Skyrim. Men are shacking up with their mistresses all the time.”

  “If you find out, let us know.” The first of the guards responded. “Investigations have been undertaken and there’s no evidence of foul play. It’s distasteful, yes, but the magistrate and marshall couldn’t find any evidence.”

  “But, the Jarl thinks otherwise.” The chill in Kaius’s tone was as cold as the mist outside.

  "Aye. Look, stay in Morthal long enough, and you’ll learn that the Raven has an eye, an ear and a nose for certain things. She knows things and the rest of us mere mortals are left trying to catch up. She has been telling us since the fire to send her anyone willing to look into it. If you want to give it a try, go and talk to her husband, the steward.”

  Kaius was deep in thought, and Sofia and Lydia were watching him as he chewed on a lip, slowly wiping the duck grease from his fingers into his chainmail sleeves.

  "Awww... Really?" Sofia whined.

  "Yes. Really." He said. "And you might want to be sober when we meet the Jarl."

  Eyeing off her latest bottle, Sofia licked her lips in contemplation of the wide spectrum of what she considered ‘sober’.

  "I can't make any promises."

  “In that case.” A gauntleted fist swiped the bottle of mead from where it sat in front of her, and his grin would have put an ice wraith to shame as he wriggled it in front of her. "Consider this bottle a payment for coming with me."

  "Ugh, fine.” For a moment Sofia wondered whether her expression had enough power to set him and his oh-so-confident smile on fire where he stood. “Just because you have some fancy title now, doesn't make me your servant. Remember that."