Zu'u los aan ronaan, hefah! 

The figure growls at the old man. Then they turn to the woman. 

Waan losni mon do hofkahiin, ruz veyn los rek?

Zu'u saagaan ronaanNE.  Ysgramor unstiid mosaan lostvon zuk tol gein jor  do osos noot au undoro.  Frolok vir eyvir tol krosonaan!

(Krosis, pah!  Sorry it's been so long.  I'm going to write up a quick summary of what's happened so far, and then we can continue where we've left off, with perhaps a nudge in a certain direction!)

Some folk were enjoying drinks in a tavern at Whiterun in ancient Skyrim, when a farmer burst through the doors saying his daughter had been kidnapped by bandits.  Two heroes agreed to bring the daughter back, and tracked the bandits to their cave.

With a surprise attack, the two killed the bandit's watch and defeated the Voice-wielding bandit chief within the cave.  They came across a hidden room with a map leading to somewhere in the Rift, and a captured woman.  The woman explained she used to be one of the bandits, but caught wind of their plan to kidnap the daughter in order to sell her to a cult hidden in the mountains, and tried to leave the bandit clan.  Too late, the bandits have already carried their prisoner off to the Rift, and if you leave soon, you won't be far behind.

The road ahead will be long.  Whiterun is still close, but autumn is here, and soon winter snows will block the pass to the Rift.  For now, it is night, and you take a moment's rest in the cave.  Before long, morning dawns...

As the cloaked one  awoke, it became quite obvious to them that they would not be rid of the other two, no matter how much they wanted it. They got up, walking to the yawning mouth of the cave, and dipped their hands into the snow. The figure rubbed some of it on their shadowed face, shivering from the sudden cold. Walking back inside, they began quietly picking up whatever arrows they could find as they waited for the others to wake.

Poor old languid Multuz rose from his resting place. He then looked around to remind himself where he was. A few moments later, he jumped as if he just remembered something.

Drog, Vir vust Zu'u vodahmaan!

Multuz then seemingly teleported out of the cave for a few moments. After a few minutes, he teleports back to where he laid. He then said a mysterious thing.

Buriis rok vahzah ko ok tinvaak; Mu praag Faal Theodcyning ... oh! Niiz! Vir los, Wunduniik?

Pruzah, nuz laagus. The Traveller looked over at the old man and stated with a sour tone; Ho avlak.

They stood up, re-adjusting their weapons and cloak. Mu fend shur. Praad kon. They jerked a thumb at the woman, seemingly still asleep. Waan rek funt wah praad ko men jazbaarre, zu'u lif vothni ek.

The figure headed out of the cave, waiting by the entrance in the frigid morning air, gazing out over the freshly-dusted scenery. It would be a long journey.

Multuz took a pumice stone he spotted in the courner of the cave. He unshealted his blade and started to sharpen it with the stone. Multuz's blade was a  queer one, since it had a very small cross-guard and a large heavy looking pommel that was about the same width of the cross-guard. The Nords called it Ulfberht, but the dragons who were afriad of it called it Oblaansedov or Oblaanu. Multuz finished sharpening the blade, and still held onto the stone. As he was shealthing his blade, he walked out of the cave to meet the Traveller.  He held the stone infront of him and said:

Dreh hi laan wah gekinzon hin zunne?  

The Traveller scoffed. Nid, zu'u laan wah lif! Veyn los kon? Kurlah fen kos lingrah, ahrk thunnuhe nalkon los gut prazan do mii. Waan ho laan wah sav mon, mu fend shur das. 

Multuz shrugged and pocketed the stone. He then went back inside the cave. He went over to the woman and tried to wake her up.

Rhindia sat on the edge of an overhang looking down at the cave entrance.  It had been a long night, running from the bandits she had almost fooled with her sleight of hand at a game of cards.  Finally losing them in the wilds, she had tried to find a place to get a few hour's rest before heading off to the next village when she stumbled upon the threesome currently residing in the cave she had wished to occupy.  She observed them out of curiosity more than anything else, as the cloaked figure walked out of the cave.  Outside of earshot, she could only guess as to what they were talking about.  Slining her bow and lowering her dark green wool hood, she walked down the ridge to engage the strangers.  She felt restless...  perhaps it was time for some adventure.  Nust dahvur vok wah jah, she muttered to herself.

Drem!  Vis hi aak zey?  She shouted and smiled as she approached.  Fon wah kos sizaan, she chuckled as she brushed back her red hair exposing intricate green tattoos running down the side of her neck and face.  A Breton woman, no older than twenty, she had to present herself with confidence if she was going to make it outside of the cities.

As Multuz was trying to wake up the woman, he heard someone talking to the Traveller outside. Multuz left the woman were she slept so he can go find out who this unfarmiliar voice belonged to, either to a friend or to an enemy. Multuz then walked over to the enterance of the cave to introduce himself.

The traveller quickly drew their bow, pointed directly at the newcomer. It was mere habit, having been snuck up on before. The woman seemed to be the nomadic type herself, almost causing the hooded traveller to sigh in frustration. She seemed friendly enough-- at least she wasn't coming forward with an immediate attack. The traveller dropped their bow slightly, but kept the arrow knocked.

Fos... nid. Wo los ho? Ahrk fos dreh ho laan. drehni stig naan zoklovun, uv zu'u fen ediin ho.

Stopping where she was, maybe thirty feet from the cave, she raised her hands slightly in a gesture of friendship to show she was not armed saving her un-nocked bow.  She looked at the cloaked figure aiming an arrow at her as well as the other figure exiting the cave.  She gave a half-smile.

Ruund arokon fautiidgaar?  Zu'u drun nid.  Veyn dreh hin lok inaak hi?  Mu vust bo pahvoth.  Tirahk, nid?

She tilted her head, eye still on the tip of the arrow that the cloaked stranger still had nocked.  Lowered, yes... but she had seen people draw and fire an arrow faster than she could ever react.  She always assumed the other person in an encounter is more experienced than herself...  never underestimate.

For los Rhindia.  Hi?

Multuz's old bones finally made it to the enterance of the cave. He then stared at the stranger, and then to the hooded traveller. Multuz then let out a sigh of relief and said:

Waan fahdoni losni ahst hin hruus, ruz hi kend kos fahdon! Drem yol lok, Rhindia! Multuz kos fori!

Zu'u losni hin fahdon, mey. The traveller said finally, putting the arrow back in its quivver. They looked at Rhindia for a long moment, and then sighed heavily, letting out a large cloud into the air. Rek vis meyz voth mii, waan mu alun gaav tir do het!