Nazeola looks up and gives a look of bemusement, clearly not understanding what's going on.

"What? Who are the Greybeards?"

The table looks towards me, surprised at how I don't know such basic knowledge

(I do know about the Greybeards and such, my character isn't from Skyrim and therefore knows almost nothing about the culture)

Surprised, Gol'diir look over at Naz

"WHAT? You don't know about the GREYBEARDS?! They're only the Nords who HELPED SAVE SKYRIM!"

Calming down, Gol'diir sighs

"Sorry. I'm just surprised you don't know this. The Greybeards are four Nords who live on nearly the top of the Throat of the World, in a fort that they call High Hrothgar. Five years ago, during the Skyrim dragon crisis, the Greybeards taught the Dragonborn how to use Dragontongue so he could go save Skyrim."

Falin shook her head,

"Don't fret too much about it. You're not the only outsider here."

She gestured towards the college mages

"If anything, I'd say we've lucked out having to mages from the college who have been studying this subject."

Naz looks a little embaressed and speaks slowly

"Sorry, I haven't been here for long and the company hasn't exactly been... warming. Sorry, I shouldn't start talking too much" 

Naz quickly shuts up and looks down at the table.

Shaking her head, Falin turns towards the Redguard.

"No harm done, friend. I'm not too well versed in these Nordic tales either."

Shakes head

"It was only a few years ago when the Tiid-Ahraan was opened and Alduin was sent inside. Alduin speaks to the buried corpse of the dovah and raises them from the dead. It would take a very powerful Necromancer to do this. I bet the Phinis Gestor, the Conjuration Trainer at the College Of Winterhold would know more about this. Sadly he has been deep in studies of the Dwemer ever since the Arch Mage died. I don't think he has been much help. It seems as thiugh Kynesgrove is always getting the bad end of this "dragon" business. It was only a while back when they were the second city attacked after Helgen. The Aldmeri Dominion has many mages, I wonder if they are behind this just like the Night Of Tears!"

"I'm sorry, Naz. I just got a little bit surprised."

puts his arm around Naz's shoulder

"Who knows, the Aldmeri might have something to do with Kynesgrove's attack."

"Probably, but the only way we can find out is by going there ourselves. Should we hire a carriage?"

"Why not? To the stables"

Grins

Falin shift slightly.

"I'm afraid I'll have to catch up. A run in with some bandits during my travels has left my armor in need of repairs."

She lightly tugged on the sleeve of her robe.

"Fortunately, the healers here were kind enough to give this to me while the smith is working on my armor. A surprise, given this city's infamy for its hatred of Mer and other races that are not human."

Groans

"Right? Everyone seems to hate inhuman races. Racist bastards. No offense to the present company, of course."

(Might as well be the narrator for this part)

   The group sets off to the stables, those foreign to these lands shiver in disgust as the northerners chuckle at their abilities as a Bron. Soon, once arriving at the stables, they hire the carriage to embark to the closest place it will get them to Kynesgrove, Whiterun. However olong the way they find themselves in quite the predicament.

   The path to Whiterun is more trecherous than they thought in the coldest days of Sun's Dusk. The horse walks calmly until it encounters a slate of ice nearly completely covered by the snow that fell relentlessly. Soon, the horse attempts to stall the carriage, but the efforts prove themselves futile as the horse slips causing a sharp turn of the carriage, and the tipping over of the carriage. Most of the group sat on the left of the carriage, except for Gold, who's arm is now trapped under the fallen carriage, deeming him unable to get up. 

   Gold confirms that the arm is unbroken, but that doesn't solve all of the problem. Soon they find themselves encompassed by a hoard of Frostbite Spiders who begin to advance. The group must act quickly to fend them off and to save Gold.

(If anyone is in disapproval of the obstacle I can just change it and let someone else narrorate this if they would like)

Equips his best healing spell, Closed Wounds, and a fire spell.

"Well, it's a good thing I was in the college."

He drinks a Fire resistance potion, and casts the fire spell, burning the carriage. He then casts Closed wounds to heal his arm and burns. He pulls out his enchanted Dwarven Greatsword named Frozen Misery, and charges, everyone else following him, weapons drawn. The spiders quickly fall. They decided to ride their horses to Kynesgrove.

"You all have horses, right?"

*Back in town*

Falin growled quietly, glaring out the window of the inn, "Damn bandits." She muttered, "Why did their cheif have to have an enchanted blade of all things?" Sighing, she leaned back in her chair, the old wood creaked in protest. "At least that blade fetched enough gold to cover getting my equipment repaired."

"A storm's coming," an old Nord woman said to the inn keeper, rubbing her hand. "I can feel it in my bones, Kyne's winds bring a bad storm this way."

Falin frowned and hoped the storm would miss the small group headed for Kynesgrove.