"This place is barbaric." Evailo huffed to himself as he ran a gloved hand through his long hair. He pushed a few stray hairs that had stuck to his face behind his elven ear while he was at it. There was a brief pause as he sat down next to his dog, Meeko, who looked almost as exhausted as the felt.

The elf took a few moments to catch his breath. He passed the time by watching the same Netch that he and Meeko saved from poachers just a little while ago.

Hell, they hadn't even taken two steps outside of the Raven Rock bulwark before one of the greasy nuisances approached the elf and his four-legged friend. The words barely even left her loose lips completely before the mer had drawn his sword.

Evailo absolutely loathed poachers. Not even bandits bothered the golden-skinned elf half as much, and that was saying something.

Meeko nudged his elven companion's hand with his muzzle. His tail wagged when green elven eyes finally drifted down to meet fiery amber irises.

"This place is worse than Skyrim." Evailo said to himself, shaking his head as he stood up.

Unbelievable. He had barely even set foot in Solstheim and already he felt exhausted. The people here were getting on his nerves, perhaps even more so than the Nords back in Skyrim.

"The Retching Netch." Evailo muttered to himself, reading off of the sign to the side of the small tavern.

He'd have to remind himself to ask why the owner chose such a unique name for this place. Tavern history always made for a good laugh.

"Out of my way." A larger Orc growled through the thick tusks that poked out from his large bottom lip. He practically kicked Meeko out of his way just to get inside.

"Know your place, outsider." A dark elf spat as well as he followed the Orc inside.

Evailo's jaw clenched while his blood boiled in his veins, a growl rising rapidly in his throat.

Now, the Altmer considered himself a patient man in spite of the dragon that nestled within him. But, yet, there were three sure-fire ways to piss him off. Poachers, mistreatment of his dog, and spiders.

With an infuriated snort, Evailo pushed open the doors. He only paused to request that Meeko wait for him outside.

The mer was ready to kick ass and take names later. But, at the same time, he figured should probably be rational about this whole thing. Although... then again, what was the fun in that?

Even so, he calmly strode up to the Orc and the Dunmer who shared a table at the front of the tavern. Planting his palms flat on the table, he leaned in close.

"I think you two owe me an apology." He stated.

The Orc glared at him. "Get out of here, elf, we don't owe you anything." He replied gruffly.

Evailo didn't like these guys. Did he have a reason? Sure. A good reason? In his eyes, yes. How many more did he need? None. One was good enough.

"Alright, I don't know what kinda stick you two have stuck up your asses, but I suggest you make haste in removing it. Preferably before I shove my foot so far up your rears that you're spitting thorns." The mer barked, his volume increasing with every word. "Now, apologize! It should not be that gods-damned hard to open your mouth and make words come out!"

Something changed in the Orc's demeanour. Perhaps it was the rumbling of the tavern walls that changed his mind. Whatever the case, he made snappy with changing his tone.

"Alright, alright. No need to get all worked up, okay? I promise, it won't happen again." Mogrul offered.

Although it could've been more elegantly worded, Evailo accepted it. He straightened up, his jewelry jangling as he did so, and walked off to retrieve Meeko.

By Auri-El, the mer had tried to get away from the rude inhabitants of Skyrim. But, instead, he walks right into an even more hostile environment. Honestly, Evailo would've gladly taken the pointless bickering of the Battle-Born and the Gray-Mane families over this any day.

Now, Teldryn Sero was a mer who had seen many things, mostly due to his travels. But, by the same septim, he sincerely doubted that he'd ever seen anything half as mesmerizing as the elf that just walked in.

He'd been quite surprised to see a stranger with that kind of bravado walk right into The Retching Netch. And then proceed to flat-out threaten Mogrul and Slitter, no less.

Why the stranger demanded an apology, Teldryn didn't know specifically. But it wasn't hard to guess, thanks to the Orc and the Dunmer's awful attitudes to those around them.

Teldryn watched as the Altmer stepped out of the tavern, only to return a moment later with a medium-sized dog tailing behind him.

The two decided to occupy a table nearby, just within earshot. The elf made himself comfortable by kicking his chair back and propping his feet upon the table.

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his long hair, tucking some flyaway hairs behind his elven ear.

Geldis eventually made his way over to the table, after finishing up wiping down the bar. "What'll you have?"

"Uh, I'm not much of a drinker. Thank you." The elf dismissed him half-mindedly. After doing so,he pulled a map out of his knapsack, unfolding it and laying it out on the table before him.

"Let me know if you need anything." Geldis shrugged.

"Uh, actually, do you think you could tell me who Miraak is?" The other elf asked.

The Dunmer barkeep paused. "I feel like I've heard that name before, but... I'm afraid I can't help you." He frowned sympathetically.

"Ah, it's alright."

So, this stranger was looking for someone named Miraak... Teldryn felt like this was the perfect opportunity for him to offer his services.

The Dunmer took a rather large swig of his drink and walked over to the table where the High Elf still sat. Without even waiting for a proper invitation, Teldryn plopped down into the empty seat across from the elf.

Green eyes locked with red for a few brief moments before the stranger spoke first.

"Can I help you?"

"No, but I think I can help you." Teldryn replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

The other mer chuckled a bit at his blunt attitude. "How so?"

"You're obviously new to this place. I mean, it's not difficult to see that, your appearance screams outsider." The darker-skinned mer stated. "So, perhaps you will allow me to assist you with whatever it is you're looking for here."

"Ah, what makes you think I'm looking for something?" There was a thud as the taller elf let his chair drop onto all fours and leaned his elbows against the table.

The spellsword let out a wry chuckle. "No one comes to Solstheim for the scenery anymore, pretty boy." He shrugged. "This isn't exactly the most important part of Tamriel, if you haven't noticed. It's a corner of a corner that's just waiting to be forgotten."

The Altmer fell silent as he considered it for a moment. "And why, pray tell, should I hire you?"

"For one, I'm Teldryn Sero, the best damn spellsword in Tamriel. And two, I know Solstheim like the back of my hand." He said proudly. "If you're going to take on these ashlands, you'll need me."

The other elf smirked. "Well, I could definitely use help navigating this place." He admitted. "You start tomorrow."

There was a clank as the taller mer laid a coin purse down.

He then started to walk out of the tavern but paused to turn back to Teldryn. "But in the future, you might want to say you're the second best spellsword in Tamriel... Because I'm the first." He added with a charming grin.

Teldryn, in his stunned but awestruck daze, couldn't seem to think up a reply as he watched the Altmer disappear out of sight.

"That elf is going to get you into a world of trouble, Teldryn." Drovas cackled from his table in the corner.

And honestly, that was alright with Teldryn.

"So, what do you know about Miraak?" Teldryn inquired, taking a bite from his loaf of bread. "Anything?"

It had been a bit of a restless night for the Dark Elf. He had stayed awake nearly all night thinking about his new employer. Evailo was at least ten times prettier and much nicer to look at than all his previous bosses combined.

"Well, he definitely wants me dead." Evailo sighed, polishing one of his arm braces as he spoke. "He sent some of his men after me a few days ago, attacked me right in the middle of Whiterun."

"They just attacked you?"

"Well, first, they asked me if I was the Dragonborn, then attacked me when I gave them an answer."

Teldryn wasn't sure if he'd ever really believed in the tales of the Dragonborn. Regardless, he couldn't deny that if there ever was someone worthy of such importance and power, it was the elf that was sitting before him.

As he finished up polishing his armor, Evailo groaned. "This would be easier if I knew where to go or who to ask, but clearly no one here can help me."

There was a pause as the two began to think about alternative places to look for information.

"Hmm." Evailo hummed as he turned his attention to Teldryn. After a moment his vibrant green eyes widened slightly with realization. "Maybe no one here can help me, but I think I know some people who can."

Teldryn's eyebrows raised in surprise, before his confused demeanour turned to one of sass. "And just where in Tamriel are you planning on dragging me off to?"

"Teldryn Sero, pack your things, because we are going to Winterhold."

The Dunmer had to admit— though never aloud, of course— it'd be nice to get out of Solstheim for a while.

So just like that, the two packed Teldryn's things and boarded the next ship back to Windhelm.

It was on this two-day rendezvous of theirs that the Dunmer discovered something new about Evailo. As it turned out, the mer hated large bodies of water.

"You're joking." Teldryn stared in disbelief.

"Not really, no." He assured.

"What's wrong with water? It's breathtaking. Haven't you ever looked at it?" The darker-skinned elf queried, gazing over the side of the ship to peer down into the water.

Evailo joined him, but only for a moment before he reeled back. "Hard not to when you're an inch away from drowning."

That's when scarlet collided with peridot as Teldryn craned his head to look at him.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Maybe some other time."

Teldryn left it at that, for now. After all, it wasn't a 'no'. And the stubborn mer couldn't bring himself to pursue the matter further while they were surrounded by miles of water.

Besides, Teldryn wanted to give him the chance to come around on his own. It meant more that way.

"What are we looking for in Winterhold? It isn't exactly the most important city in Skyrim from what I've heard. Who could possibly help us there?" The Dunmer inquired, sitting down on the ship deck next to Evailo.

The High Elf chuckled. "I'll be the first to admit that Winterhold isn't exactly the most extravagant of places, but I do happen to know some people there who would gladly help me out." He answered, pausing to glance over at the shorter elf to his left. "Ever heard of the Mage's College of Winterhold?"

"Let me guess, you were a student there?"

"I was, for a little while. But my brother happens to be the Arch-Mage there. If anyone can help us, it's bound to be him." Evailo grinned. "Besides, he owes me."

"For what?" The mer asked curiously.

"I may have been partaking in some illegal activities, and I might have come across a Falmer translation tablet in the Markarth court wizard's tower. And I also maybe took a copy of it to my brother."

"I suppose I should refrain from asking just what illegal activity it was you were doing while you obtained this information."

"That would be a wise decision."

[A/N: I'm warning you all ahead of time, I am rarely ever satisfied with my writing so please forgive me if I go back and make a bazillion and one edits.

But yeah, I thought it'd be nice to post my Skyrim fanfiction publicly for once. Even if no one reads them, that's a-okay with me, cause I definitely will.

I sorta feel like I have a lot to cover in the next chapter because of how much went on in this one, but that's fine by me. Long chapters are the best chapters.]