18+ Conquer with Fire

My question about him fell short with the two strangers I arrived with. The overwhelming activity in the temple made me split up with them. But that was the least of my worries, I needed answers. That was what had brought me here, and I need not forget that.

The small perch I chose shortly after splitting, in the rafters above the activity, was dark and silent. Perfect place for me to think, and analyze. Even the beat of my heart could be well heard up here. I scanned the area, I needed somebody to speak to. Somebody with the answers that I needed. It was only until I heard the ‘creak’ in the rafter, that I stopped my thoughts. Then I saw her. Her, whoever she was, was in the opposite shadow as I. Her long hair, and obvious feminine body type was all that suggested her to be a female. But her identity was hidden, her dark hood and cloak covering her with complete darkness. Then she was gone. Dropping down, into the crowd with no trace.

I shook off the eerie feeling that the woman had given to me, and continued scanning the temple. Then, I could feel a cold breeze flow through the temple hall. A man entered, face almost completely emotionless, and body still and without movement. He stood, almost a phantom of a man, overlooking the activity at the top of the stone stairs at the back of the hall. But a confident air seemed to surround him, He seems to be of importance, my mind wandered.


In less than a second, I was on the ground, mimicking the movements of the woman who had just escaped me. I started the push through the waves of people. Moving towards the man. Then I was near him, his pose of confidence seemed clear to me. I got close to him, then removed the hood from my head, and the mask from my face. “Please,” I spoke, “I need answers.” I spoke pleading, thoughts of my vivid dream re-entering my head. My pulse quickening, and body heating up with nerves. “I need to know who Braend ‘On Dinok is. His name is of Dovah origin. You are my best hope.” I pulled him aside as I whispered, hoping for any answer as to who this man was.

My rituals haven’t been noticed here, not yet anyway. Sneaking out every night, fighting wraiths, wolves, and the occasional troll. Hoping to hone my skills enough to be confident wielding my blade. To no avail. But, I haven’t been noticed, which is good. This place, the temple, it has so much more knowledge than I had previously thought. I then pulled out the book, the one I had found a while back. I had brought it here to get some words in it translated. Dragon language had been used all over in it. It was titled, The End of the Morag Tong. There were a lot of dragon names, throughout the book. Faas, Vol, Maar, Dinok and so on. I came for translations, and that is what I got. All of them were words, phrases, simple meanings. Something each Tong assassin inflicted on their enemies, Fear, Horror, Terror, Death.

My hope was that this book and any of it’s translations would ultimately lead me to the Skeevs in some way. A farfetched idea, stupid of me to think I would get anywhere with it. There is an upside, to it though, being here. I had been up here for a couple of weeks, just waiting. To join the ‘Sons’. I don’t know why I had been so hesitant, maybe because I was a girl? Or more realistically my poor confidence level.

I moved from the sleeping hall, into the main hall. A cold breeze touched my skin, as the man that most called Jason entered. I then saw the man from the rafter. He hadn’t seen my face, so I had nothing to worry about, but I still felt un-nerved. He had watched me leave the rafter, but didn’t even shake his gaze from Jason. He only approached Jason, and spoke. His body language suggested some sort of panic. Beyond my worry, I thought.

I brushed off the feeling that I had gotten from seeing the man, and started toward the dining hall. The smell of horker stew, and skeever meat filled my nose. And the chatter of children begging me for a song hit my ears. I had to admit, it had become somewhat of an evening ritual, singing to the children. The refugees wanted something to comfort them, in any way. And I guess my songs had taken that profile.

I sat at a stone bench as the children gathered around me. “What will it be tonight, little ones?” I spoke gently, pulling the lute from my bag. “The Fire Song!” They unanimously cheered, and called. I nodded in response. Striking the first chord, preparing for the first note. This song had become a favorite of theirs, and of mine. I started to sing out the lyrics, delving deep within the sound. Then I could hear, and feel the beat of a drum fall into synch with the song. Then I started to get lost within the sound of my lute, like I had found who I once was again. “If this is to end in fire. Then we should all burn together. Watch the flames climb high, into the night.” I sang. The song was called ‘I See Fire’ though I had no idea who had written it, it was still a beautiful piece. “Now I see fire, inside the mountain. I see fire, burning the trees. And I see fire, Hollowing Souls. And I see fire, blood in the breeze, and I hope that you remember me.” And I was gone, within the song.

“Please, I need answers."
The young man approached Jason without warning, taking Jason off guard.
"Calm down lad, what is it you need?" He said friendly, raising a hand to stop the Blades agents moving towards the man, swords raised. You could never be too careful, desperation had an ugly way of pushing people to an extreme.
“I need to know who Braend ‘On Dinok is. His name is of Dovah origin. You are my best hope.”
Jason raised an eyebrow at the remark.
"Who are you, lad?"

More and more people gathered in High Hrothgar. To many people are here, what is going to happen to the people who have to go home? What if they don't have a home to go back too. I shouldn't think like this, I should be worried about myself Andrews smile slowly turned into a frown and left the fire. He was walking untill he noticed a man talking to someone. But the person he was talking too, he seemed different. Andrew couldn't tell what it was about him, but he was obviously not of the common rabble.

He came in close to the men talking, but tried to stay hidden. He walked over to one side and joined a conversation, One ear on the people. He barely understood what they were talking about. Something about the name "Dinok", which didn't sound like a name for anything he knew. But it could be useful in the future. He walked away, walking right beside the people talking.

"Calm down lad, what is it you need?" He spoke, raising his hand. I could feel the guards approaching, but his gesture stopped them, and my hand was at the ready for anything. I then prepared to repeat my previously mumbled request. "I need to know who Braend 'On Dinok is. His name is of Dovah origin. You are my best hope." As the words left my lips, the man's face seemed to fluctuate with emotions. Then his stare went blank, and a single eyebrow rose just as he spoke. "Who are you, lad?"

I walked away from the main hall, towards an empty one opposite myself and the man. He folloowed, and I paced in front of him. "I am not actually sure, as to who I am," I spoke, pausing my pacing, "My name is Varon 'We Tharondiil. Or that is what they call me, at least." I resumed my posting, my mind throbbing with thought over the dream and the knowledge that I had. Almost like my own mind was hiding something from me. Who am I? I asked myself, as I paced, trying to solve the puzzle that was impossible.

"I am not actually sure, as to who I am," The boy said, stopping in his tracks to face Jason, his face revealing the seriousness of his questions.

"My name is Varon 'We Tharondiil. Or that is what they call me, at least." Jason was about to raise a hand to greet Varon, but he turned around and begun walking again, Jason did not enjoy newcomers walking around utterly freely in High Hrothgar like Varon did, but he had gotten Jason's curiousity, he'd let it slip for now.

"That name you're lookin' for, Dinok, I know that name, aye... Where did you learn of it?" Jason cursed to himself.

"Nevermind that, I'll tell you what I know of him." He looked around, making sure others weren't too close to eavesdrop easily, before continuing.

"Braend'on Dinok, used to be a Moran Tong, they're a cult of Dunmer assasins, but you probably know that lad. Anyway, damn good one he was, if what I heard is right. However, Dinok got a lot of enemies in the order, he was unorthodox, didn't follow orders and rules, and he could kill any in cold blood." Jason observed the man pacing in front of him as he spoke of these assasins and cults, he seemed not to be bothered, that worried Jason.

"So he and some others, they fled from those assasins aye, Moran Tong was pissed to put it lightly! Then Dinok disappeared, haven't heard anything else after that." Jason gulped, and stopped, grabbed Varon's shoulder and looked him in the eyes.
"I don't know what yer reasons are for searching for this man, but I'm supposing you're out for his blood for the Moran Tong. You don't need to say anything lad, probably shouldn't either, people won't be glad to hear there's assassins running around them."

He let go off the man's shoulder, and backed a bit, still looking to Varon.
"I believe that's all High Hrothgar can offer you in terms of help, except this, the Greybeards thought him a Dragon Cultist, with the name and all. But after Dinok disappeared, and Alduin returned from Sovngarde, they've got their hands full with other things."

With that, Jason turned around, and begun his pace back towards the main hall.

Mikom sat in silence with his knees tucked up to his stomach and his head rested on top of them. His face emotionless and his thoughts were blank. A sudden commotion jolted him out of the trance-like state he had been in. A group of people had burst into the door. The cold air hit for only a moment while they all gathered inside and looked around the room. Many people looked up at the strangers but said nothing.

The group separated rather quickly, but one figure stuck out in particular. A young Nord, probably no more than 16 years of age stood in a group of people, only he seemed to have his attention directed somewhere else. He looked around the area and saw nothing. What are you up to? He thought to himself as he rose to his feet and made his way toward the group.

Just to their right was a small table with some empty, dirty dishes on it. He approached, picked up a rag and began wiping some bowls clean while listening in on the conversation. They spoke of home and their loved ones. Slowly he began to forget his purpose as he heard the sad tale of one who spoke of a dragon attacking his farm.

"I was headed back from the forest... I was just gathering wood and I saw my little boy huddled over something." The man fought back tears and choked on his next words. "I-it was my w-wife. She was so... and her body was just..." Mikom's face turned to a frown. He couldn't bare to hear anymore of this story. He shook his head to clear his mind and looked at the silver-haired Nord once again. His face was blank and showed hardly any signs of focus, and that was what gave it away. The entire group had tears welled up in their eyes. Sorrow and sympathy was shown so openly in their faces, while the Nord stood there expressionless.

Mikom sighed and set down the bowl he had been wiping and clenched his fists. He gathered his thoughts and cleared his throat before walking over to the Nord. As he approached he quickly grabbed the eavesdropper's collar and pulled him away from the group. "Eavesdropping on someone? Or are you just heartless? I wouldn't think anyone could listen to a story like that from a father without showing a single bit of emotion on his face." He fought to control his temper. "So what exactly were you doing?"

Marek slowly panned his gaze around the great hall of High Hrothgar and the faces of the many refugees that shuffled about with downcast expressions. He hadn't expected so many to have made the climb but he knew better than most what desperation could do as a motivator. In some ways it reminded him of what Imperial City had been like in the final days of the Great War; Filled beyond capacity with refugees fleeing the Aldmeri armies, filth lining the gutters along the streets, the sick and dying being tended to by desperate loved ones with makeshift bandages and medicines, and everyone had a nagging fear that at any moment their lives could end. And for many they had. Cut down by stray arrows or siege missiles during the opening stages of the Dominion assault of the city or slain by elven swordsman. But not me. Marek thought. He had avoided death by doing what others wouldn't. He had survived. And I'll survive this time as well, no matter the cost. The dragons may be stronger but there are far more of us than there are of them.

"No matter the cost..." He mumbled to himself, just as the man whom they had met just outside the monastery brushed past him and deftly made his way through the crowd until he found a shadowed spot in a corner, where he proceeded to scurry up the wall and perch himself among the rafters high above everyone. From where he was, the stranger had an unobstructed view of the whole room. To most, his ascent would have been hard to spot with the dim lighting and the skill of the stranger, but Marek had made a living out of tracking people just like him so it was little trouble for him to keep an eye on the man. Before too long the stranger suddenly dropped down from his perch and slipped back into the crowd. Marek watched for a moment as the man made his way towards the back of the room but he was distracted when a womans voice suddenly broke out into song. He snapped his gaze towards the source of the singing to find that a group of children had surrounded a young woman not far from him and were listening intently as she sang to them. Marek half smirked to himself as he turned back to see where the stranger had gotten to. He panned across the room twice before he spotted him, standing at the top of the steps at the back of the room talking with another armed man. Behind the pair stood four of the Blades, all of whom had there hands on their swords and were watching the stranger intently as he spoke to, what Marek guessed, was their master. "Gotcha." He said, as he started towards the two men. As he passed Indari he simply tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to the pair at the top of the stairs.

It took Marek a few moments to reach the stairs because of the number of people moving about the room. As he ascended the steps, two of the Blades agents turned and eyed him suspiciously but he payed them no mind. Up this close, he was in his element and he was confident he could defeat both of the men even if they drew their weapons. As he drew near the pair, the one he had identified as the Blades leader turned and started walking towards him, apparently done talking with the stranger from before. Marek stopped, still eyeing the stranger, and then said to the Blades leader, "Would I be right to assume that you're the person in charge of this?" He swept a hand out in the direction of the refugees and then pointed to the Blades agents standing behind him, "And them?"

Indari had seen the woman drop from the rafters, her keen eyesight picking up the slight movement. The woman had then passed through the crowd as a small group of children gathered around her, chattering excitedly. Indari sneered slightly. She wasn't fond of children, they grated on her nerves somewhat. The woman sat down and the children piled into a small group and she then suddenly burst out into song. It wasn't a song Indari had heard before.

Indari started forward through the crowd, only to have Marek pass her. He had tapped her on the shoulder and pointed across the room to an armed man talking to the stranger that had accompanied them into the monastery. A number of men that Indari could only guess to be members of the Blades stood behind him.

"Mance, this way" she said to her companion, who's arm she still had a hold of. She began weaving through the crowded room towards her target, which wasn't so difficult, following in Marek's footfalls. She had to let go of Mance to keep her weapons from banging into people as she squeezed past them. They finally made it to the back of the room where Marek was addressing the man.

"Would I be right to assume that you're the person in charge of this?" He swept a hand out in the direction of the refugees and then pointed to the Blades agents standing behind him, "And them? Indrai looked up at the man hopefully, keen to finally get this new chapter of her life started.

“I don’t know what yer reasons are for searching for this man, but I’m supposing you’re out for his blood for the Morag Tong. You don’t need to say anything lad, probably shouldn’t either, people won’t be glad to hear there’s assassins running around them.” The man suggested to me, as I paced back and forth, in the hall. “I’m not out for blood,” I spoke, mid thought, mid pace, “The men who raised me. They never mentioned him, it was only until I found his..” I then slowly pulled out the journal. Getting lost in it’s existence.

The man ignored my silence, and continued speaking. “I believe that’s all High Hrothgar can offer you in terms of help, except this, the Greybeards thought him a Dragon Cultist, with the name and all. But after Dinok disappeared, and Alduin returned from Sovngarde, they’ve got their hands full with, other things.” Was all he spoke, his voice trailing off with the rest of his body, back towards the main hall. Dragon Cultist?

I sped my walking speed up to catch the man once again. “Thank you,” I spoke nodding my head, “Really.” Though most of the information he had told me I already knew, Dragon Cultist was nowhere near any of it. I had another lead. Another clue towards understand exactly who this man was. I needed more information though. Something on cultists, dragon cultists, and the Morag Tong. The only way I could get that knowledge, is through books.


I now knew my next destination The College of Winterhold. They had a library big enough to have hundreds of books on these things. Finally, I thought, almost out loud. I started to push my way towards the door of the Temple. My business here done. The chatter that filled the room when I arrived, and the new sound of a beautiful voice accompanying it. My hand pressed against the heavy door, the cold air hitting my face as I exited the warm temple.

(OOC: Tdatapina, i take it your talking to me)

Andrew was grabbed rather quickly and was pulled towards the stranger "Feelings are a matter of life and death, thats why I don't divulge in them, They are things that if you focus on, Can consume you. would I be wrong to say you were listening in as well?" Andrew took a deep breath and stepped back.

"I am trying to learn more about the people here, once the selection begins I want to be ready, understand how they battle. I didn't mean anything, and im sorry to have offended you by my rudeness, it was improper. My name is Andrew" He held out his still shaking hand to the man.

A strange one this one, but when he grabbed he was strong, and quick. I might want to make allys with this one Andrew thought, He smiled at the man, trying to get on his good side.

"Mance, this way", She began to bob and weaved in between the people and the children there, letting go of his arm to control her sheathed sword's movement so it doesn't hit anyone there. Mance noticed Indari's face when the kids started singing. Not a fan of children? That makes two of us. People do say once you have one of your own and find a fine girl to love, life itself changes. I myself have have not had the chance. Not that I'm saddened by it. So far I think Indari might be the one i could trust the most. As odd as that sounds. Bjulf and Marek seem to be the trust the people you fight with, no more, no less' type. However, I don't blame anyone for not trusting a sellsword like me. 'A man who fights for coin is loyal only to his purse' I do find that not entirely all false, but I like to think I have a bit more honor than most men like me.

"I see them. Lead the way." Indari and Mance traced their hooded companions lead towards a figure that had men in numbers behind him, while he talked to the newly acquainted stranger. As he walked, he began to get a headache. Partly due to the echoing sound of footsteps and people, and the children breaking out into song. He pinched the bridge of his nose while following his womanly companion.

"Would I be right to assume that you're the person in charge of this?" He swept his hand across the crowd of people like a captain of a ship, then pointed to the members behind the man, "and them?" Mance looked towards the blades with a curious look, and an eager feeling inside. "Let's get to work," He muttered under his breath with a slight smile, then settled down to hear what the man had to say.

Suddenly the loud buzz of conversation and idle chat died, and curious eyes studied Jason unflinching.
Jason sighed, and looked to the man addressing him in front of the refugees below, and he smiled as he spoke.

"In charge of this? High Hrothgar? The Greybeards have that honour, not me." He pointed a hand gently down the stairs into the massed crowd.

"Of those, aye I am!" Jason stepped to the side, making sure the man did not block the view to the crowds below before he continued, hands clutched behind his back.

"My name is Jason, I am the first Son of Sword! Dragonslayers!" The title sounded clichéd, but it was a fitting title for the purpose of the unit.
"Many of you are here for that very purpose! The dragons have returned, we all know that! The Dragonborn was killed, we all know that as well!" He paused, and lowered his head in sorrow and respect for his fallen companion.
He then rose his head again, facing the crowd, without baring emotions upon his face.
"But that does not mean we should simply give up, I for one will not bow to any dragon overlords to be sent to a life of slavery, and I doubt any of you feel any different, why are you here if so?" He now looked solely upon the warriors, and those who seemed touched by his words, given their pride back.

"If you are like me, speak to Farnar, and we'll make sure Skyrim isn't lost without a battle." He pointed to the Blade seated behind a small makeshift counter made of wood planks, whose task it was to document all the warriors signing up for the Sons of Sword.

"A last note, even if you decide to let others fight, we will not throw you out from High Hrothgar." With this he glanced at Master Arngeir, who seemed about to protest, but Jason turned to the crowds again, and as exclamations of relief showered him, Arngeir went silent again.

"Any questions? Or are you ready to show those dragons just how resilient we are?!" He raised his arms at the last part, as (mostly) young boys and others in the crowd cheered at this, some even cursing the Dovahs.

This was going to be Skyrim's best hope, and most were too old or too young to fight, it wasn't enough.

The boy was quick to respond. "Feelings are a matter of life and death, thats why I don't divulge in them, They are things that if you focus on, Can consume you. would I be wrong to say you were listening in as well? I am trying to learn more about the people here, once the selection begins I want to be ready, understand how they battle. I didn't mean anything, and im sorry to have offended you by my rudeness, it was improper. My name is Andrew" The boy extended his arm out for a handshake and Mikom accepted suspiciously. Well, well, well. What a good liar, aside from the crappy excuse. "Actually, I was referring to the fact that you were listening in on someone else's conversation, not the small group you stood in. Next time you try eavesdropping, react more to the group that you are hiding in." Mikom sighed and decided to drop the matter and befriend the Nord.

"My name is Mikom. Nice to meet you Andrew." He looked Andrew in the eye and smiled. "This whole thing really is a mess isn't it?" Mikom scanned the room slowly, taking in his surroundings, realizing for the first time how horrible the place looked. Sure the carvings on the wall were done beautifully and the room was furnished and decorated nicely, but what wasn't so nice was the people. So many were sad and distraught. The few happy faces seen in the room looked tired and weak. His smile slowly turned and Mikom looked back to Andrew. "What made you decide to join the Sons of Sword?

A woman came silently out of the shadows, hair soaked and arms cradling a basket of supplies. She was pretty enough; with pale skin, reddened eyes from faded war paint, with deep blue irises. She was smiling widely, clearly intending to comfort the wounded Bosmer, but Faervel couldn't help but notice some animalistic traits in her; the flickering brightness in the eyes, the toned face and the swift grace with which she descended to kneel beside Faervel.
"I'm here," the woman said softly. "Drink that, and here." She wrapped a blanket around Faervel's prone form, placing a red potion beside her and pulling out a set of clothes.
"Thank you." Faervel smiled weakly at the woman, suddenly realising how wet and freezing cold she was, beginning to shiver. "How did you..." She struggled to put into words what she wanted to say, simply pointing at the rapidly healing cut on her head. She breathed heavily; the mixture of the confined space, the excitement of the moment and her breathing disorder all combined to make it a little more difficult to breathe than it should.
"I'm Faervel." Faervel smiled, holding out a slender hand to the kindly young woman that appeared to be just over twenty in human years. "Who are you?"

"Any questions? Or are you ready to show those dragons just how resilient we are?!" The man who had introduced himself as Jason raised his arms to the crowd. Indari shot a quick glance to Mance who winked at her and she smirked a little. She then looked around at the small group gathered in front of Jason and wondered if anyone was going to speak up. She had a number of questions herself but she was normally the one to keep quiet and wait to see if her questions would be answered by someone elses. I would love a bath but I can see it's not going to be happening here tonight she thought miserably to herself.

Indari looked around the room of refugees. Surly not all of these wished to join the Sons of the Sword. Some of them were barely strong enough to carry their own clothes on their backs let alone raise a sword and fight a powerful beast as a dragon. Still, there were one or two in the crowd that had potential. Indari could always spot the dangerous ones in a crowd. It had been part of her job for a time to keenly identify potential threats. Certainly the group she stood with not was that, but they were all here for the same reason, or so they said. She was still a little wary about the others but she had warmed to Mance and his optimistic mannerisms.

Everyone seemed to be mulling over thoughts, presumably forming them into questions that they wanted to ask. Indari only had one burning question.

"I do" she spoke out "When do we start?"

"Any questions? Or are you ready to show those dragons just how resilient we are?!" The crowd roared around him and his company, talking about the fall of dragons, and victory, and triumph. I'm going to kill someone. He looked up from his sword after he thought to himself and locked gazes with Indari, and passed her a wink. She gave a slight smirk and continued looking around the room. These people need hope, I get it, but they can barely stand. How are they going to fight?

"I do" Indari spoke, her voice echoing through the crowd and the temple, "When do we start?" He looked towards her and gave a slight nod, "I agree. We aren't doing much here. Time is not on our side, so let's get to showing those dragons how resilient we are." He bit his tongue to stop himself from letting a laugh out. I need to get out of here sooner than later. Singing, overbearing amount of voices, children's screeching, and now roars of glory I couldn't help myself A smile crept upon his face, and he went back to as serious as he can be.

Farlyyn suddenly woke up noticing that he had fallen asleep in the chair he sat in. He took a minute to massage his own neck to make it feel better. The chair he had slept in wasn’t actually the best ‘bed’ to sleep in, but the climb up to the palace had taken most his energy. Around him, new faces had shown up while he had slept. Some of them seemed more ready for battle than others.

The silverhaired elf got up from the chair and looked for something to drink. He walked over to a small table in a corner and grabbed a small bottle of water, opened it and took a small drink before he once again scanned his surroundings. The man that had given him the soup last night, Mikom, was still sitting at the same table. Farlyyn wondered if he too had fallen asleep there.

A younglooking woman was singing for some of the refugee kids. “Now I see fire, inside the mountain. I see fire, burning the trees. And I see fire, Hollowing Souls. And I see fire, blood in the breeze, and I hope that you remember me.” She had a beautiful and soft voice, making Farlyyn just stop in the middle of the room listening to her song.

When the woman finished her song, Farlyyn walked over to her and stopped right behind her back. “That was one beautiful song.” He said with a gentle voice, giving her a smile as she turned around to look at him. “Sorry.” The elf blushed a bit before he stretched out his arm. “The name is Farlyyn Silverblood. Nice to meet you. Milady.” He smiled once more.

Andrew started helping Mikom with the dishes "Im joining to help, but don't think i will be able to do much, how about you?" he said, he looked over to see a man talking to the crowd "Any questions? or are you ready to show these dragons just how resilient we are?" He looked at Mikom "Shall we go to the crowd?" He asked, he noticed Mikom looking around the room This is a pretty nice place He said looking to where Mikom was.

He refocused to hear a girl "I do" she said "When do we start?" The question was followed by a wave of cheers and hollers. Andrew stood there Dragonborn, if you can hear me. Please lend us your strength He thought, then blushed, of course the dragonborn couldn't hear him, the Dovahkiin was at rest now. touched the handle of his sword, it all begins now He thought, smiling.

He walked over to the crowd and joined into the cheering. Feeling something he hadn't felt in a long time, excitment. He noticed that some people looked almost depressed, unmotived and unwilling to help. Having second thoughts don't help anybody Andrew thought to himself. Then his attention was turned back to the man who spoke earlier. Seeing what else he had to say.

Andrew started helping with the dishes and Mikom shrugged his shoulders. Minus well finish what I started. Mikom never intended to finish the dishes, only while he observed Andrew. Im joining to help, but don't think i will be able to do much, how about you?" Mikom's response was cut off by the shouting of a man. "Any questions? or are you ready to show these dragons just how resilient we are?" The two looked at each other and Andrew spoke. "Shall we go to the crowd?" Mikom nodded his head and made his way towards the small group that had gathered in front of who assumed to be the leader of the Sons of Sword.

The response to the man's question was quiet and uncertain until one girl spoke up from the crowd. "I do. When do we start?" It was then that the crowd began to cheer with excitement. The cheers weren't exactly convincing due to the fatigue of the group but they were there. Mikom raised his fist in the air and shouted. "I second that! Let's show these dragons what we can do!" The cheers in the room were still somewhat weak, but they filled Mikom with hope. Sure the group of able warriors was smaller than one would hope, but it was more than he expected and it was definitely enough to get started. And who was to say more wouldn't join along the way? Surely people they saved in towns and on the road would gladly help. Mikom didn't let the cheering stop and he finished with one last sentence of encouragement. "Let's make sure the dragonborn's death wasn't in vain. His tone was strong and full of courage and readiness to fight. He smiled before letting the leader continue to speak once again.