Atone [✓]

14th of Frostfall, 4E201

(My imagine of Carwen Methredil uwu)

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We approached the city by dusk, our feet and bodies sluggish as the guards pushed open the large bronze gates. The city was noisy with rushing water, hearty laughter, and the chopping of a mill in the distance.

"The inn is there," he gestures to the building slightly ahead of us. A narrow waterway carves its way from the top of an incline down into a pool at the bottom where workers are milling about. I look up at the high stone structures and gilded doors and accents. A golden face stares back at me, his gold eyes ever vigilant above us. The weather is cool but the day is rather warm. It reminds me of Anvil in the autumn with the breeze coming in from the Abeccean Sea.

"Carwen."

My head snaps towards him, my eyes widen slightly. Why does his voice have that effect on me? Maybe it's been so long since I've heard anyone say my name? I don't think even Valga from the inn knew it. But there's a way he says it, the hard and soft syllables in his thick North accent that makes my stomach flip.

Broknar, with two knapsacks on his shoulder, nods his head towards the inn, the sign naming it the Silver-Blood Inn.

We enter and it is packed. The bar is crowded and several people conversing and drinking in clusters. Many look like workers, maybe from the mines and fields.

Broknar turns to me. I look back up at him, feeling slightly intimidated by all the patrons. "Let's get some drinks, yeah?"

He leaves me standing by the door to shrug his way to the bar. I can barely see him in the crowd, but I see him lean in and wave at the innkeeper. He holds up two fingers then points his thumb back at me.

The crowd is thick and reeks of sweat and ale. I duck under arms and drinks and dirty bodies and come up next to Broknar. He's leaning on his forearms and tapping his fingers on the wood top. He chuckles when he sees me. I'm tall enough to plant my arms on the wood top if I stand on my toes.

The innkeeper places two flagons in front of Broknar, one he slides over to me and lifts the other to take a long drink. He slams it on the wood top and turns his body towards me, still leaning on his forearms.

"So Tiny, I was thinking."

I lift my flagon and take a sip. I never cared for the Nords choice of drink, but it was free and I didn't really care where my intoxication came from.

"Sounds dangerous," I muse as I take a drink from my flagon.

He licks his lips and grins. "If you got the coin, why don't you hire a mercenary? That way, I wouldn't have your death on my conscious."