#dwynn

Inktober Day 21

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Seeing the building rise in front of her, Emelir whooped enthusiastically. Finally, she'd arrived. This was the place, no doubt. No other idiot would run a traveler's inn in the middle of the Rift. Last she heard, this half-Altmer was her cousin, born from her mother's brother. It was nice looking, probably easy to lift some gold from though. Apparently she ran the place by herself; not even a bard. As she approached, she softned her footsteps out of habit. She'd only been in Skyrim for a few months, most of that time spent in Falkreath hold. It was supposed to be snowy, but she hadn't run into any of that. It was decidedly colder than Cyrodiil, and even moreso than Valenwood.

Approaching the building, she flung open the door, stealth not a priority. "Cousin!" she cried out, stepping into the inn. She opened her arms, grinning and walking toward the counter. Dwynn had an extremely perplexed expression.

"Can I help you?" she asked, frowning. Emelir laughed, and slid into a barstool.

"I'm Emelir, your cousin," she said simply. She picked up the apples and such sitting on the counter, examining each item curiously. "What's good to eat here?" she asked, "Any mead?" The other mer simply wouldn't move past the first issue, though.

"My... cousin? All my family is somewhere in Alinor," she objected, "If it's true, then how did you even find me?" This was a bit concerning, that this stranger was able to track her down. Emelir winked at her, a glint of mischief in her black eyes.

"I have my contacts," was all she offered as explanation. She drummed her fingers on the countertop. "What about that mead, cuz?" Dwynn sighed and got a tankard out from under the bar.

"Any preference?" she asked, already half-turning to go retrieve whatever she asked for from the back room. It was early, and she hadn't readied her stock for the day.

"The best you've got, lovely," she said, smiling and tossing a handful of coins on the bar. The other obliged, turning to grab a Black-Briar Reserve from its case. She emptied it into the metal tankard before sliding it across to the Bosmer.

"Here you are, best mead there is," she said, her tone light. Emelir grabbed it, taking a swig in the same motion.

"Not bad at all," she said before grinning again, "So what's your name, cousin of mine?" Dwynn all but sighed, trying not to roll her eyes. Her customers seemed increasingly obnoxious lately, and apparently she was stuck with this one.

"It's Dwynn," she said, "Yours is..?"

"Emelir. Nice to meet you, Dwynnie dear. I'll be staying here from now on," she announced, getting up. She waltzed about the room on silent feet, looking at shelves and tabletops, probably sizing up the place. It was no secret that she was a thief.

"I'd rather you didn't call me that," she said, "Who gave you the right to do this?" It was inconvenient. Every room was important, a source of income. This stranger was certainly family, though, and she couldn't just charge her. Dwynn scrambled to think of a solution.

"I did," she chirped. Emelir seemed unperturbed that she was in a strange inn in a strange province, moving in with a lady she'd never met. Dwynn just sighed. There was no easy way out. She couldn't just throw her out, and she was perpetually curious about her family anyway. Emelir would be staying at the inn, then. Things would certainly be less quiet around here, that's for sure.