The Girl with the Voice - Mirabelle ErvineThe Hall of the Elements was typically a place of learning at the College of Winterhold. A peaceful place for lectures by Tolfdir and quiet instruction on the nuances of the restoration magics by Colette. Yet now, it was all but defiled. Some would say that Tolfdir's expedition to Saarthal was successful; bringing with it the discovery of an incredible artifact full of energy and light. Though, whose bright idea it was to transport the large floating orb the Eye of Magnus to the middle of the Hall of Elements, Mirabelle didn't know. She certainly would give them a piece of her mind once she discovered who they were.
Aside from the fact that Tolfdir had done nothing but stare at it for days since it was brought there rendering him more useless than usual it gave her a bad feeling. There was something about it that needed taking care of. Exactly the reason why the Arch-Mage Savos Aren sent one of the College's newest apprentices off to seek out the Staf
The Girl with the Voice - OnmundBy the nine seven thousand steps
No one lied when they described the journey to High Hrothgar. Onmund wasn't quite sure how he had gotten himself involved in this journey. But he suspected that she'd have gone alone had he not accompanied her.
Curse this hard-headed Breton!
Marieka had found herself in trouble no matter where she turned. But he'd have followed her to the ends of the nine holds and beyond. When they'd first met at the College of Winterhold, she took an almost abnormal interest in her fellow apprentices, including Onmund. He'd not met many Bretons in his travels. She certainly was his complete opposite in so many ways Nords didn't normally embrace the use of magic, but Bretons did. And she undoubtedly had the natural affinity for the arcane that her people possessed. His blood made him stronger taller than her he towered over her. Gods most Nord women towered over her. As well as Orcs, Khajiit, Argonians, Redguards and most
The Girl with the Voice - BrynjolfDespite the guards keeping so many potential visitors to Riften out of the city, some folk managed to slip through the gates be it the jingle of gold, an iron fist or a honeyed tongue, there were ways to make the guards look the other way as one slipped in. It was only mildly surprising then, that the city was so busy some nights.
And where would visitors flock to on their first night in the small settlement, but the local tavern The Bee and Barb. It was as good a place as any for Brynjolf to stake claim to the pockets of the newcomers. His guild the Thieves Guild was in a hard way anything extra he could conveniently slip from the pouch of an unsuspecting visitor and into his own could do nothing but help. Financially, and as a reminder of who ran the show.
He typically found a shady corner in the tavern and of that, there were many and observed.
He watched those that were regulars enter find their usual spots and drink their sorr