I close my now useless eyes and take a deep breath. I drop to my knees and put my hands out. 'Stahdim hiif zey. Ofan zey mul. Ofan zey aaz. Zu'u los sahlo. Zu'u fraan oblaanvu faaz do saan. Hiif zey, hiif zey.' I stay in that position for a few minutes. I stand up. 'Very well. Do what you wish.'

*Dinok lays a hand on Saurill's shoulder. He leans into his ear.*

"I'm so sorry."

*Dinok opens the scroll. And reads.*

"So...now what? Do we fight this Brotherhood?"

"We need a plan here!"

My eyes are focused on the scroll. I snap out of it. 'What? Oh. Yes, a plan.' I look uneasy, 'I--I don't know what to do anymore. There is too much going on right now. I need just peace and silence.'

"Could they be here? Again, you're the professional." He looked around, drawing his dagger. He's never foughtt anything like this.

"I'm going to start a fire." He put together some logs and rocks and put them together. He made a spark and the fire slowly grew. He loitered around, sharpening his dagger and checking the loot he collected from the ambush.

Dinok said, "Saurill and I need to leave. Get help. Aksel, you'll be fine. They're not hunting you."

"Alright. Thank you for helping me." Aksel flashed a grin. " And thanks for the loot." 

Now, to Whiterun, Aksel thought. He camped for the night.

The next day, he woke and checked his map, finding himself at the east; very far away from Whiterun. He grunted in frustration and walked his way into the nearest village. There he pickpocketed a few people, letting no one detect him and he soon got enough money to afford a horse. He purchased one and rode west.

After a long, hard journey, he finally reached the gates of Whitehill.