Open The Bannered Mare Tavern

"You're quite welcome. My room is adjacent to yours, If you need me I'll be in there. Rest well Eagle"
He said whilst unlocking the door to his room.

He entered, carefully closing the door behind him. He stood still in his room and realised, that he was in love.

Kivuli silently observes the two, eyes narrowed. Primitive nature? Does this Imperial WANT to piss me off? She growls inwardly, heading back to the bar. Eagle however, I would like to talk to. She seems interesting enough.

An Argonian, with teal-green scales and blue feather hair, came in and took a seat by the fire.
He talked to himself. "Teach him to call me a 'lizard'... Ahhhh, my Gods...." He curled up and waited. Either for Saadia to come up and give him a menu or for someone else to talk to him. Whichever came first, he'll accept.

Kivuli notes the Argonian and heads over to him. "Kivuli bids you greetings." She purrs as she sits down next to the teal-green one, brushing some of her black hair out of her face. Her colors were brown and lighter brown, with a red band running up one side of her neck, across her eyes and nose bridge, and down the other side of her neck. Two pale-ish yellow-tinted horns sticking out of her nose bridge, and two from her cheeks and two on the top of her head. All short but sharp. Eyes bright blue. Hair drapes over face, around the nose horns, and down to her tail's base with half of it in this small bead ponytail. Tuft of black on her tail, as the rest of her skin was covered in scales rather than fur. Right now she's wearing her Stormcloak General gear, as she'd finished a mission not that long ago.

The Argonian frowned at the Stormcloak armor. He didn't really like the Stormcloaks. He thought in terms of morals and treatment non-Nords, they were no better than the Thalmor's treatment non-Altmer.
"I just want this war to end already... I just want the two sides to join forces... Because no matter which side wins and takes over Skyrim, the Thalmor are going to win no matter what..."

"If only they could, but the Empire has insulted the Nords too badly. Does not mean either side will submit so easily to the Thalmor." Kivuli replies, removing the bearskin helmet. "No matter who wins, the Thalmor will have to utterly destroy Skyrim to win, render it completely useless as a prize."

The Argonian looked at the horned Khajit.
"That only makes me even more livid. The Thalmor are using Ulfric and his war to weaken Skyrim, and he doesn't even know this. The Thalmor set the whole thing in motion by strictly forbidding Talos worship in the peace treaty they signed with the Empire, knowing that this would eventually divide the Nords. Whoever wins the war, the Stormcloaks or the Empire, it is the Thalmor who actually win. With the Nords, the Empire's last remaining ally, sufficiently weakened, the Thalmor can now finish off the Empire. And I should tell you..." He whispers to Kivuli, "The Nords in the Empire still secretly worship Talos anyway. That's why that preacher in the town square, where the Eldergleam is, hasn't even been arrested yet. Jarl Balgruuf still worships Talos and hates the Thalmor almost as much as you Stormcloaks do. He's even afraid of being chased out of this land... One of his spoiled brats told me those things. He says he knows many secrets..."

"Ulfric has the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood in his ranks, and they'd have to waste time plowing through Cyrodiil to get to Skyrim. Ulfric is smart, he'll look for allies wherever he can get them. Even Dragons if he can. After all, one of his Generals earned the allegiance of Durnheviir, the dragon linked to the Soul Cairn. Besides, once those blasted fascist Elves are held at bay, Kivuli can work on dealing with the racial problem. She works tirelessly, since Skyrim is home to more than just Nords, and more than just Nords love Talos."

Britton started tearing up. "I-I just want everyone to realize the war is useless... I'd kill every Thalmor myself just to stop the war... just to keep all the Jarls where they are in place... just to make Talos worship legal everywhere... I want a world of no Stormcloaks, no Empire... Where no-one has to die... Just... La Résistance..."
Britton pulled out a paper and started humming to himself. It was the tune of Age of Aggression/Oppression... and this paper had words that go to the tune of it. And it was titled "Age of Liberation". Britton then sang the words quietly, not even realizing he was.
"We drink to our youth, to the days come and gone
For the Age of Liberation has finally begun...
We'll drive out the Thalmor and restore what we own
With our blood and our steel, we'll take back our home...
Down with Elenwen, the ambassador!
The crimes of her faction, we shall not ignore...
We're the children of Skyrim and we fight all our lives
And when Sovengarde beckons, every one of us dies!
But this land is ours, and we'll see it wiped clean
Of the scourge that has sullied our hopes and our dreams..."

Kivuli quietly sighs and lays a hand on Britton's shoulder in a comforting way. "Kivuli has thought of...perhaps...calling a truce. Getting Tullius and Ulfric to work together against the Thalmor, then resume the petty squabbling afterwards. But...she might look like a spy or defector if she speaks out. All her work will be for naught...and the non-Nords in Windhelm will be in even more squalor."

Britton looked at her. "It's worth a shot... I even have the incriminating evidence that the Thalmor are using Ulfric. It's all in a book I found in their interrogation room."
He pulled it out. The "Thalmor Dossier: Ulfric Stormcloak".

"May Kivuli read this dossier?" Kivuli asks, eyeing the little red book.

Britton handed it to her. "When Ulfric sees the Thalmor are using this war to their advantage... I think it would make him turn away from the war. If there's one thing that both the Empire and the Stormcloaks don't want, it's the Thalmor winning.

Sent from my SM-G920P using Tapatalk

Kivuli opens it up and looks it over. "Yes...this is perfect! Though finding neutral ground for a truce talk would be quite difficult, at least this should get Ulfric to listen to Tullius. Even if only a little bit. Thank you. What is your name, so that Kivuli may give credit where it is due when she delivers this to her Jarl?"

The Argonian looked up at her, looking less depressed. "Britton." He sat up now. "I know, that isn't really an Argonian name. My parents loved using foreign names."

Sent from my SM-G920P using Tapatalk

"Makes more sense than 'Takes-In-Light'." Kivuli shrugs, then sets the dossier in her bag. "If you find yourself in Windhelm, you are welcome at Kivuli's home. Hjerim. Just tell the guards you're a pal of mine and they should let you in."

Britton nodded. "Thank you. By the way, those horns on your face... They're like Argonian horns. You part Argonian?"

Sent from my SM-G920P using Tapatalk

A tall Argonian strode through the streets of Whiterun, keeping his head low.

Truth be told, he loved Whiterun. The energy, the smells, the sounds, and the music. Oh, how he adored music. It was a welcome change from the quiet tundras and frozen peaks he was accustomed to.

Regardless of his opinion of the city, he prefered to keep to himself, opting to mask his features with baggy black clothing and a hood.

He paused at the great tree near Dragonsreach, counting the bounty he'd collected for...removing a group of bandits. A guard stopped near him, adjusting the straps for his scabbard,

"The Bannered Mare has warm beds and cold drink, you look like you could use both."

The Argonian nodded his thanks.

He arrived at the tavern minutes later, quietly slipping through the back entrance.

The Argonian took up a seat at the far end of the tavern, taking note of a green-teal Argonian and an odd looking Khajiit.

He listened to their conversation for a moment, something about Windhelm and the cat's home there.

Why a cat decided to live in Windhelm is beyond me. Only the races of men seem to be welcome there.

Then again, how in Tamriel did you manage that?

The Argonian shook his head and removed his hood, revealing gleaming white scales framed by black. His head was adorned with a multitude of horns, giving the strange Argonian a Dragon-like appearance. Instead of feathers, he had a series of short, black spines on his head, bolstering his Dragon-like appearance. He had dark blue-grey eyes and a muscular build.

He wore baggy black pants, a simple red shirt, and a large grey coat with a hood, and a single steel dagger hung from his belt.

The Argonian rolled up his sleeves, revealing numerous scars on his forearms.

He leaned back in his seat, idly spinning his dagger as he waited for the barmaid.

"Yes....she is. Father is Argonian, mother Khajiit." Kivuli glances over and notices the newcomer. "Oh, a new face. Come on over, Kivuli loves to meet new faces."

The Argonian paused, he hadn't expected this Kivuli to be so welcoming.

He slowly walked over and sat next to the strange hybrid, taking note of the horns perched atop her head.

A hybrid? I didn't know others existed, especially natural-born hybrids.

Although, I still doubt there are any like me, natural-born or not.

The Argonian shook the thoughts from his head,

"Thank you. It has been a while since I have found myself in welcome company."