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'By Malacath's toenails it's cold! I don't know how you can stand it, S'fara.'

'Well, I do have a big furry bear to keep me warm.'

S'fara was indeed sitting in Folcwine's lap, his bearskin cloak wrapped around them both.

They were several miles up the Jeral mountains, camped on a reasonably flat area with a path that zig-zaged and meandered its' way up the mountain leading to and from it. It was small but gave a good overview of the path without being too easy to see.

'Remind me why we're here again?' Hlaalu replied, her teeth chattering as she edged closer to the camp-fire

'Simple, he is here because it's his duty, she is here because she'll not let her betrothed go on a potentially dangerous mission alone. As for ourselves, I'm here because the Jarl sees the advantage in having an Altmer on this mission. Why you're here is not immediately apparent, but I suspect your calling Ulfric a “stupid, hairy S'wit” had something to do with it.'

'Well he is!” she shot back, pouting

'Besides, how was I to know he had such good hearing?'

'Be that as it may, It would have been wiser to hold your tongue. It's lucky Ulfric had more important things to deal with than an impertinent young Elf isn't it?'

Hlaalu said nothing, but merely poked her tongue out, conceding the argument.

With a curt nod to Folcwine, Rynandor made his way to the outermost picket.

TWO WEEKS EARLIER

After a pleasant nights rest after a long trip to Markarth and back, S'fara and Folcwine had their lie-in rudely interrupted by a summons to the Jarl's hall. Once again Folcwine found himself in front of Jarl Ulfric, the man who he considered the rightful High king of Skyrim, only this time he looked distinctly unimpressed. One reason was immediately apparent as Folcwine's gaze fell upon two familiar figures.

'Rynandor, Hlaalu! What in Shor's name are you doing here?' He exclaimed

'Save the chit-chat for later, we have business to discuss.' Ulfric said curtly

'Yes my lord, I am at your service.' Folcwine said as respectfully as he could

Ulfric gave him an appraising look before speaking

'You have proven yourself to be dedicated to the cause and have succeed at many difficult tasks, not least of which was the mission to bring me back safely from Helgen, when half the legion was looking to recapture me. For those reasons I shall overlook your choices in friends and in whom you betroth.'

S'fara made a sound which reminded Folcwine of the old mill cat choking on a hairball.

'As you know, conditions in the Pale Pass have made crossing into Skyrim from Cyrodiil all but impossible. For the Legion, this has meant relying on local recruits to bolster their numbers. For the Dominion it means making the dangerous journey by sea from the Summerset Isle. '

'But?' Folcwine asked sensing the the situation had changed

'But lately we have seen a marked increase in Thalmor numbers, especially near the border. We suspect they may have cleared the Pale Pass and secured it against more avalanches and rock-slides.I've already sent one squad, but they have not returned, so I must assume that they are either captured or dead. In either case, we cannot afford another failure. Your mission is to go there and watch for any suspicious activity, if you can, get some information off any Elves that you might encounter.'

'Yes my Jarl, it will be an honour.'

'As for you two.' Ulfric said, turning his attention to Rynandor and Hlaalu

'The information you gave turned out to be useful, you have my thanks. But as for your companion, I don't appreciate being insulted under my own roof.'

'Think nothing of it my lord, and I apologize for her rudeness. I can only offer her youth as explanation for her lack of courtesy.' Rynandor replied with a respectful bow

Ulfric gave a non-committal grunt, indicating that the topic was closed

'Will that be all, my Jarl?' Folcwine asked

'Hmm, not quite. This is an important mission, so I can't send just the four of you.'

'Four?! You're not sending me too!' Hlaalu protested

'I am, and you can thank whatever Elvish Gods you worship that I'm not sending you to my dungeons instead. I still might if you don't hold your tongue.'

Hlaalu crossed her arms and pouted

'Thank you, Jarl Ulfric, who are you sending with us?'

'I have some...reserve soldiers who need to prove their battle readiness, this will be a perfect chance to prove their suitability.'

Folcwine's heart sank - “reserves” were those returning from injury – or those of less than certain ability or loyalty.

'Thank you, I'm sure they'll prove themselves.'

Ulfric gave a wry smile 'But that's not all. If the Elves have opened the pass, we need to close it as soon as possible. For that reason, I'm sending the Dragonborn with you too. He and I have been working on a few new shouts, one of which will be of use in this mission.'

Folcwines heart rose as fast as it had sank – going on a mission with the Dragonborn was something every Stormcloak wished for.

'You'll find your men outside the city gates, the Dragonborn will meet you there.'

'Thank you my Jarl, I won't fail you.'

'Talos guard you all.'

Outside the city gates, three soldiers were waiting for them, just as Ulfric had said. The first on the right looked like a decent soldier, with no obvious injuries and he didn't have the look of a coward. The one in the middle was young, lanky and looked incredibly nervous. As for the last man, he was surely the fattest man to ever squeeze into a Stormcloak uniform.

Folcwine gritted his teeth and decided to get it over with

'Men, my name is Folcwine Strong-Arm of Falkreath! This,' he said, pointing, ' - is my betrothed, S'fara. And these two are Rynandor and Hlaalu. Now I know you may be wondering why we have two Elves with us – and one a High Elf in Thalmor robes. Rynandor here, hates the Thalmor with just as much passion as you or I, and has given Ulfric valuable intelligence many times. As for Hlaalu, she's just a young girl that he picked up on his travels. She's a bit mouthy, but she's handy with magicka and potions.'

Folcwine paused to let that sink in.

'Now! You know who we are, let's learn a bit about you.'

He stood before the first man ' What's your name, kinsman?'

'Arnolf sir, from Morthal.'

'Morthal eh? They breed em tough there I recall – have to with all the creepy-crawlies in that Gods-forsaken marsh. Why are you in the reserves?'

Arnolf looked down, face reddening

'I er – got captured by the Forsworn a year back.' he replied

'And Ulfric considers that reason enough to remove you from active duty?'

'That's not the whole story.'

'Well? Out with it then.'

'You see, while I was captive, one of the women – ah – took a liking to me. So much so that “no” wasn't a word she'd hear.'

'Gods! You mean she forced herself on you?' Folcwine asked in horror

'At first yes. I mean you know how fierce they look with the face paint on, and the bone dagger to the throat didn't help matters. But eventually we began to talk more and found we got on rather well.'

'So what happened?'

'Eventually, a dragon attacked, and I was cut loose. In the confusion, we got separated and a passing patrol found me before I could find her. Two months later, she turned up at my camp, with a swelling belly. She'd been exiled when her people found out I was the father. We've since married, and our daughter is my pride and joy.'

That explained it. Arnolf, like him, was suspect because he was romantically involved with a non Nord.

'I see, well I can assure you that I won't hold that against you.'

'Thank you sir!'

Folcwine moved down the line to the man in the middle.

'And you? You don't look like a fighter.'

'Knut sir, from Hjaalmarch! I had a bit of a rough time with the initiation task, so Galmar said I had to further prove myself before he put me on the front lines. And you're right, I wanted to be a priest, serving in Solitude, but my elder brother joined and well, we did everything together...' he trailed off, face growing sombre

'I know the pain of loss all too well. I myself only joined when Beorn, my own elder brother died when captured by the Thalmor. Don't be ashamed of the grief, use it to remind yourself why you must fight.'

Knut nodded, chocking back tears

'Last but not least, who are?' Folcwine asked, stopping before the last man

'Name's Torbjorn, outta Dawnstar.'

'And what brings you here?'

'Dunno, my last captain said I was too slow on patrol and ate too much. That might have something to do with it.'

THE PRESENT

'You know, I was probably born somewhere near here.' S'fara said to break the silence that followed Hlaalu and Rynandor's spat

'So we're still in Skyrim?' Hlaalu asked

'Aye, the pass is a mile or so up, and the crossing point further still. Though if it were up me, county Bruma would be part of Skyrim too.' Folcwine replied

However, Folcwine's plans for Bruma would have to wait, for at that moment Knut waved them over

'Someone's coming!' He hissed urgently

Folcwine took the spyglass and surveyed the path below. A solitary figure was walking slowly – from the direction of Cyrodiil.

Silently, they all got into position

Folcwine stepped out from behind a large boulder, sword in hand, causing the man to stop short and turn to flee, only to find Torbjorn right behind him

'Don't hurt me!” he yelled

'We're not going to hurt you – not unless we must.' Folcwine replied, 'but don't run or make any sudden moves, we've got got the area surrounded.'

The man looked around and saw that he was indeed surrounded

'Who are you, and where are you going?' S'fara asked

'I – I'm Hywel, from High Rock. Some people call me Hywel the hapless, or Hywel halfwit. I'm an entertainer.'

'Like a bard? I could do with a song.' Torbjorn said

'After a fashion, I suppose you might say that. I sing, I dance and I do tricks – that sort of thing. That's why I'm here, the Imperials grew tired of me, so I thought to try Skyrim.'

'Show us one of your tricks then, we can tell you if you'll have any luck.” Arnolf said suspiciously

'A – a trick? Yes of course!'

Hywel pulled three balls from his pouch with a flourish and then began to juggle – only to fumble a few moments later.

Arnolf gave a derisive snort, whilst Torbjorn was laughing uproariously. S'fara stifled a snicker and Folcwine attempted to do the same only to dissolve into a coughing fit. A mirthful smirk even found it's way onto the dragonborn's face.

After taking a moment to regain his composure, Folcwine turned to the now blushing Hywel.

'Are you sure you're not a fool? Because if so, you're the funniest I've seen since I was a boy! Gods but that was funny!'

'No! I'm not! I – well to be honest I'm not that good.' Hywel mumbled

'Well, you'll make people laugh at any rate.”

Hywel gave a less than convincing laugh

'All right Hywel, what we need to know is how you got here from Cyrodiil.' S'fara said gently

'Th- the pass has been reopened. I had heard that the Elves used their magic to clear it. I couldn't afford passage on a ship, so I searched for the pass and eventually found it.'

'Listen to me well Hywel, you didn't see us, do you understand? If anyone happens to ask, especially any Thalmor you saw no one.' Folcwine warned him

Hywel nodded, and set off down the path

'Do you think we can trust him?' Arnolf asked

'We'll know soon enough.' Folcwine replied as everyone resumed their places

And half an hour later, Rynandor returned

'I just accosted a nervous looking Breton coming from this direction. As you instructed I played the Thalmor Justiciar, asking him if he met anyone near the pass.'

'And?' Knut asked nervously

'He claimed to have met no one, in spite of any threats or lies. So we know he at least won't buckle under mere verbal interrogation at least.'

'What other kind is there?' Torbjorn asked

'They call it “manual uncoiling”, but it's really just torture.' Rynandor explained grimly

'Anything else to report, Rynandor?' Folcwine asked

'Nothing that is relevant to our mission, no.' he replied, lowering his voice

'But there is something?' S'fara replied

'It's nothing really, but your man down in the next picket hasn't said a word to me since he got here. I rather get the feeling he doesn't like me.' he said, indicating the taciturn warrior a short distance away

'Oh, him? That's the Dragonborn – he doesn't say much to anyone. Must be something to do with having a voice that can kill dragons.' Arnolf said

And it was true, the Dragonborn had turned out to be a taciturn man, whose voice was surprisingly low and gravelly, not the deep booming one they had imagined.

It was another two days before anyone else came by, and it was precisely what they were waiting for – a squad of Thalmor.

'What do you see?' Rynandor hissed into Folcwine's ear as he surveyed the mountain path below

'I see one Justiciar, accompanied by four soldiers. Two spellswords and two pure fighters.'

'Excellent, that sounds simple enough.' Rynandor replied, making a move to attack

Folcwine place a restraining hand on the Elf's shoulder

'Don't be rash! We have to do this like we planned, understand?'

Rynandor nodded, 'You're right, forgive me.'

Folcwine led his men down a shortcut to the next loop of the path, which brought them well in front of the Thalmor.

When the Thalmor rounded the corner they were confronted with one of their number at the mercy of a group of brutish Nords!

Rynandor was held with his hands “bound” behind his back by Torbjorn and Arnolf and Folcwine pointed a sword at his throat.

'Alright you pointy eared bastards, lay down any weapons and put your hands on your heads! Slowly! Unless of course you want to see me slit your friend from ear to ear.' Folcwine challenged

'Comrades! Don't worry about me! Strike them down for the glory of the Aldmeri Dominion!'

'Who are you?' called the Thalmor Justiciar

'My name is Ulundil, of Sunhold.' Rynandor replied, thinking of the first Altmer name he could use

'And whom do you work for? What brings you here?'

'I report to third emissary Rulindil. He sent me here to warn any of our people to be on watch for – well for these people.'

'I see, well it will sadden you to learn that Rulindil has been dead these last two months. I am Calendil, his successor.'

'Yes, that does indeed bring me much – joy!' Rynandor yelled, bringing his hands forward and sending two fully charged firebolts into Calendil's chest, sending him flying back

A short, but brutal fight ensued, but the Thalmor were caught off guard, and without the support of their mage. By the end, only two figures were fighting – Knut and one of the soldiers. Knut was on his back, struggling to block the she-elf's blade. S'fara ended it by putting her knife to the woman's neck and demanding her surrender.

They bound her hand and foot then left her guarded by the Dragonborn to bury the dead only to realise that Calendil was gone. Elf sized footprints indicated that he had made a run for it. Despite Hlaalu and Knut's best efforts, he successfully made good his escape.

Left with just one source of information, they turned to the young elf soldier.

'What's your name elf?' Folcwine asked

'Alisewen, my name is Alisewen.'

'Tell me then Alisewen, why shouldn't we just kill you? Or send you to face Jarl Ulfric's wroth?'

'I'm your prisoner! And I'm unarmed!' she protested

'Thalmor kill their prisoners all the time. And your fellows over there carried no weapons either – they conjured them out of thin air.' Folcwine replied, indicating her dead comrades

'Please, I'm just a common soldier! I have no more magicka than you do and know about as many spells as the average person.'

'Relax, we're not going to hurt you. For the time being, we'll settle for you answering our questions.'

'Sure, why not. I've got nothing to lose by co-operating now.'

'Very well then. Tell me, how did the Thalmor open the pass?' Rynandor enquired

'They used magic – fire spells then ice to melt the snow and split the rocks. Then they used prisoners to clear the debris.'

'But how do they keep it open? That would have left it rather prone to more rock-slides.'

'Some mages came and installed some contraption. The rumour was, it was designed to prevent that from happening.'

After some discussion, It was decided that the Dragonborn, Rynandor and Folcwine would go investigate the pass, while the others stayed behind.

After a long climb up a narrow winding path, they finally reached the entrance to the pass. It was a natural cleft in the mountain, perhaps 4 feet across, sometimes less as it snaked its way through the mountain. At the entrance were two pillars, with a large black soul gem placed on top.

'I've seen these things before, but normally they shoot a spell at you, and they never use Black soul gems – this must be some high level magic. Be on your guard.' Rynandor mused

Cautiously they approached, ready to dodge an attack that never came.

'What in the nine holds are these?' Folcwine asked, indicating two circles of what looked like brass affixed to both walls of the craggy pass, with thick cables linking them to the pillars

'By all the divines! Those can't possibly be what I think they are.' Rynandor enthused, taking a closer look

'Well, what do you think they are?'

'When I was in Markarth, I spoke to Calcemo, an expert in all things Dwemer. For many years he had been trying to understand how the Dwemer began their cities. He had puzzled over how they kept all the soil and rock from collapsing until they could begin proper construction. He told me he had recently made a breakthrough. Thanks to a certain explorer, he had come to realise that these round items which can be seen on the walls of Dwemer ruins are not merely decorations but actually serve that very purpose.'

'So, how do we do now?' Folcwine asked

'Hmm, now lets see here.'

After a few moments of muttering, spell casting and frowning, Rynandor returned

'After a more in-depth examination, I have determined that the devices on this side of the pass are but slaves. Thus the only way to disable the apparatus is to travel through to the other side, where the master controls are.'

'Well then, lets get a move on then.'

They trudged silently through the pass, footsteps muffled by the light snowfall of the previous night. Soon they were on the the other side.

As they walked through they couldn't fail to notice two large pillars on either end, larger copies of those on the other side.

County Bruma spread out below them, verdant with lush green fields.

'Gods above! Would you look at that?' Folcwine enthused

'Ah, yes the ruins of Cloud Ruler Temple.' Rynandor intoned

And it was then that they noticed a jumble of stones and a few sections of blasted wall on a peak below them – all that remained of the once proud fortress of the Blades.

'And that's not the only thing the Elves have destroyed.' The Dragonborn added, pointing to the town

Even from hundreds of feet above, the empty shell of the Great Chapel of Talos was clearly visible, its soaring spire now partially collapsed.

'They'll pay for this, all of them!' Folwine growled

'Yes, well in the meantime I must ask for some quiet while I examine how best to disable these pillars.'

Again Rynandor spent a few moments muttering, spell casting and frowning as he inspected the two Dwemer style pillars.

'Well?' The Dragonborn asked brusquely

'I think I have it solved, but it will be tricky. Do you see those nodes on the tops? Well those surely contain Aetherium, a rare crystal with strong resonant qualities. These nodes are attuned to the -'

The Dragonborn cut him off mid sentence 'Enough with the lecture, just get on with it!'

'Very well.' Rynandor replied haughtily

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and then formed a spell in each hand.

After a few seconds, he extended his arms, and two beams of magical energy connected with the pillars.

After a few moments, they glowed briefly and a sound like a muffled gong sounded.

'There, it is done, the spell is no longer in effect. Are we ready to return to Skyrim?

'Not quite, I have one thing I'd like to do first.'

'Best make it quick, looks as though a snowstorm is headed this way.'

And indeed, dark clouds were scuddering across the sky in their direction.

Folcwine fell to his knees, clasped his amulet of Talos in one hand and made a solemn vow.

'I swear to you, mighty Talos that one day I shall return and make Bruma part of Skyrim! I swear I shall rebuild the chapel that bears your name! I swear by all I hold dear that I shall not rest until I have done so or died in the attempt!'

And with that, they began their trek back to Skyrim.

Once on the other side, the Dragoborn strode forward and let loose what sounded like the fiercest battle cry Folcwine had ever heard.

Almost instantly, the ground began to heave and shake as the rock around them split and shattered. By the time it stopped, the chasm they had travelled was completely blocked by rocks.

'This is where I leave you. I have other things to take care of.' The Dragonborn said abruptly

'All right then, I'll report back to Jarl Ulfric that everything went as planned, Talos keep you Dragonborn.' Folcwine replied

By the time they reached the camp, the snow storm was gathering above, and the others were preparing to leave camp.

'Good, you noticed the inclement weather too.' Rynandor said by way of greeting to S'fara who was co-ordinating the process of breaking camp.

'If by “noticed” you mean,' she grunted as she struggled to roll a bedroll tightly '… that I recently discovered that the latrine has frozen, then yes, I noticed.'

'Yes, quite.' Rynandor replied delicately

The march down the mountain was hampered by the bitterly cold wind that whipped at their backs, some gusts threatening to blow them off the path. By they time they reached the bottom, S'fara was chilled to the bone, and even Folcwine's cloak and body heat couldn't warm her. Worse still the storm was arriving in earnest.

'It's no good! S'fara needs to get somewhere warm and sheltered!' Folcwine yelled over the howling wind as he carried the exhausted Khajiit

'There! The abandoned cottage we saw when we arrived! It's our best bet!' Knut shouted, pointed a few dozen yards in front of them

'Good eyes, Knut! S'fara, just hang in there a little longer, we're gonna get you nice and warm, okay?'

S'fara nodded, her teeth chattering

Luckily, the cottage was more of a house, with plenty of room for all of them. Folwine lost no time in getting S'fara into the master bedroom, where a large bed sat directly opposite a large fireplace, which thanks to Rynandor's magic was soon roaring, warming the room swiftly.

Once the others had left, Folcwine stripped the soaking clothes from his fiancée's body, and slipped her warmest nightgown over her shivering form before carrying her to the bed.

'Folcwine?' she asked weakly

'Yes my love?' he replied, as he slid her under the covers

'I hate snow!' she answered before lapsing into slumber.

Once asleep, Folcwine thought how small she looked – she was always small, but now she looked positively child-sized.

After watching her awhile, Folcwine reluctantly left the room, becoming Folcwine the Officer again

'So how is she?' Alisewen asked

'What do you care?' he replied harshly

'I just, she was nice to me while you were gone.' she replied meekly, eyes downcast

Folcwine paused, he had to remind himself that she may be Thalmor but she was also just a scared young soldier.

'She's caught a chill, and it may be some time before she's well enough to move, but compared to what might have happened she's in no real danger.'

'Oh thank goodness!'

Folcwine next sought out Arnolf, who had the most experience.

'Arnolf, until S'fara is better, I'm delegating command to you. At the momment I cannot lead effectively, not while my soul-mate lies ill. Make sure the rest of them keep to their duties, I have faith you can manage.'

'Of course sir, I'll hold the fort while you attend your wife.'

With that, Folcwine returned to the bedroom where he also shed his damp clothes and slid into the bed, wrapping his arms around the small form of his wife-to-be.

The storm raged for several days, during which Folcwine barely slept, administering hot broth cooked by Torbjorn to a slowly recovering S'fara.

'Ugh! Beef broth again?' S'fara complained raspily 'can't I have something more solid?'

'So you're getting your appetite back then?' Folcwine asked

'Oh yes.' S'fara said huskily, giving him “the look”

'How many times do I have to tell you, not while you're sick, and not while we're on a mission?'

'Oh come on! Do you know how frustrating it is to have a big hunk of a Nord sleeping next to you at night but not being able to do anything?'

'I can't say that I do, no.' Folcwine smiled despite himself

'But I do know what it's like sleeping next to a skinny little fuzzball whose breath wheezes like a broken bagpipe, hoping that in the morning it's better. I know what it's like sitting next to her, dampening her forehead until the early morning until her fever breaks.'

'Aww, you really do care!' she laughed until her laugh became a coughing fit

After three more days, she was well enough to walk around, and the storm was dying down. On the evening of the fourth day, they had a discussion as to when the should resume their journey.

'I say that if the weather is as good as it was today, we should leave at first light tomorrow.' Torbjorn said

'And I say we must wait one day more, not merely out of respect to S'fara's health, but also because we can never tell if the weather will turn bad again.' Rynandor objected

'Has anyone thought to ask me what I think? S'fara asked, her words marred by her blocked nose

'I'm fine to travel now!' she added, dabbing at her nose

'Well, I'm all for getting back as soon as possible, but what do the rest of you think?' Folcwine asked

'I agree, let's not waste time.' Arnolf said

'I'm fine with whatever the group decides. Knut added, glancing towards Alisewen

'Well then it's settled, we leave tomorrow at dawn, provided that the weather is good. I suggest we all get some sleep.'

The next day dawned with almost clear sky, and what passed for a sunny day in winter. They were soon on the road again, headed for Windhelm. The journey was uneventful for the most part, just one or two desperate wolves whose hungry bellies made them disregard the risk of death. Though Folcwine did notice that Knut and Alisewen were talking more and more, the closer they got to their destination.

They arrived outside the gates in the dead of night.

'This is where we must leave you also, Hlaalu's relatives have very kindly given us free run of their home, so we shall stay the night there.' Rynandor said

'I understand, we'll see you in the morning then.' S'fara replied

It was too late to make their report, so they merely left word that they had returned when they handed Alisewen over to the jailer and said their goodbyes to Arnolf, Knut and Torbjorn.

Folcwine and S'fara then returned to Candlehearth Hall, where they ordered a hearty dinner and their special mulled wine before retiring for the night.

As he striped out of his clothes, Folcwine became aware that he was being stared at.

'What?' he asked, turning to find S'fara gazing intently at him

'You've really lost a lot of weight on this mission.' she said matter of factly

And it was true, the exertion of climbing a mountain, coupled with not eating properly through worry had left him much thinner than when they set off.

'I guess you're right.' he conceded, looking at his now prominent ribs

'I know you just ate a big meal, but I've got a little snack for you.' S'fara replied

'You know, now that you mention it, I am still a little hungry.'

The next morning they all made their report to Ulfric and Galmar

'Ha! Not only did you seal the pass, but you wiped out a whole Thalmor patrol.'

'Not a whole patrol my Lord.' Folcwine replied

'Oh the she-elf? She's of no importance. You did well.'

'What of the one who escaped?'

'Him? Let him run to the Thalmor Embassy as fast as his legs can carry him! Let him tell his people what happened. If he makes it that is!'

'Thank you, my Jarl'

'Haha! Who would have thought a team made up of two elves, a Khajiit and a few reserves would be so effective! The very idea is absurd'

'Gzalzi vaberzarita maaszi.' S'fara said quietly

'What?' Galmar asked, sensing something insulting in her words

' It means “absurdity has become necessity”. Skyrim is in a desperate fight for freedom, and sometimes in desperate times, desperate measures are needed.' S'fara explained

'Hmmph, can't argue with that!'

'I suppose I ought to congratulate you then!' he said, clapping Folcwine on the back

He was very much taken aback by Folcwine's cry of pain

'What's the matter with you, can't stand a little pat on the back?'

'No sir, you just startled me is all.' Folcwine replied

Glamar gave him a suspicious look

'You want to be careful with this one, he's more delicate than he looks!' he said to S'fara

'Oh I will, I'll take good care of him.'

Galmar followed after Ulfric, chuckling heartily.