Valkari knew what she was getting into. She was already fond enemies with the poor excuse of a bard Mikael, but what was the harm of getting mug of mead and enjoying some peace and quiet for once? Non. It was a cool afternoon in Whiterun, and the freckled redhead decided to grab a bite to eat at the inn. After all, what could be better than sitting by an open fire, drinking your favorite mead and munching on a rare cooked venison? Well, nothing when you're hungry. But that good feeling was bound to go away some time, when that stuck-up Bard Mikael decided to wander into the inn and poke fun with this temperamental Bard.

"So," Mikael interrupted her good peace and quiet as he sat down next to her, "ready to admit that you love me?"

Valkari snorted and pinged a bone from her venison at his face. "The day I admit that will be ... oh wait, I don't even like you!" she sneered at the Bard who quickly backed away, but returned to his spot.

"Come now," the annoying bard continued, "there's no need to be hateful. All you have to do is either say yes, or kiss me. I'll take either one."

That was it. Valkari could not take this bard's nonsense any longer. She grabbed the lute he held from his hands and smashed it over his head. "Shut. UP. Or else my fist will end up redecorating your face!" Mikael stumbled away from the angry Nord within fear, but she knew very well that he would not give up. That much, she was certain of.

'By Talos all I wanted was a good peaceful meal without him bugging me ... and many people staring at me ...' She looked around to see people smirking and laughing, indicating that they were happy with the results she gave. Hey, she was here to please.

The great knight stumbled into Whiterun, tired and beaten. Dried blood caked the creases of his armor, and the singe of flames slowly fading off of his cold, black chestplate. A guard glanced in his direction, mildly interested.

"Oi. You look like you were just in a fight."

"Great observation, friend."

"My cousin's out fighting dragons...and I'm stuck on guard duty."

Lazarus chuckled. "Consider yourself lucky. Dragon fighting isn't all what it's cracked up to be."

He determinedly strode to the Bannered Mare. His powerful stride was noted by others as one who shan't be messed with. He nodded in greeting to everyone, assuring them he wasn't there fore trouble. That dragon...it was so fearsome...so deadly. Surely unlike anything he had ever done battle with before....

And he was alive.

Turning the handle on the rusty door to the Inn, the redguard stepped inside to a ruckus. The Nords seemed to be pretty rowdy about something. He half-heartedly tried to figure out what was going on, but figured it out when Mikael backed into him with bits of Lute in his head.

"....Lazarus!"

"Mikael."

Mikael jumped away from the great redguard. The Nords grew quiet and stared at the delver. They eyed his ebony armor, and the blood dried onto his set. Underneath that armor was a killer...and they only hoped he didn't come to finish a job.

Lazarus took off his helmet, revealing a clean face and deep, kind eyes. "Hallo everyone," he said in his rich, clear voice.

"Ehhh!" The Nords cried out in unison and raised a lazy glass.

"...Ooohhhkay." He waved them off and began looking for a seat. The place was packed, and the only two seats available were between two shady bums and one next to a beautiful fire-headed Nord. So there wasn't much of choice in where he was going to sit.

Seeing she was still steaming over the incident, Lazarus asked was weary of whether or not he was invading her personal space. "This seat taken, ma'am?"

Valkari let herself smirk pleasingly as the bard ran out past a rather well suited Redguard. At first, she didn't take much note of him, for she rarely every spoke with anyone when she was semi-pissed. It was for their own safety, to be perfectly honest. But when he asked her if the seat next to her was taken, she just shrugged and nodded.

"Nope, not at all," she replied to him with a leg crossed over the other, taking another bite of her spiced and rare cooked venison.

This Redguard had a nice face on him, and she didn't think that about everyone. Okay there were a lot of attracting faces in Skyrim, and all across Tamriel that she had met and talked with, perhaps sang to, but she had never seen a Redguard like himself with all Ebony and a rather attracting figure. Wait, had she met him before? She was sure she had ... Eh, it didn't matter. Warriors like him came and went. The Nord would probably never see that Redguard again after that day, well that was what she thought anyway. At any rate, she thought conversation would be proper, seeing she had calmed down slightly.

"You look like you've seen places," Valkari commented as she nodded to his midnight black Ebony Armor. "Smith it yourself or did you buy it?"

That was what she normally asked to those with impressive armor, and Ebony fit the bill perfectly. That, and she was slightly curious of him. A warrior like himself must have tales to share and whatnot. Something she favored greatly when meeting adventurers like this redheaded Nord.

Though such an environment was loud and dingy, Lazarus enjoyed spending time here. He enjoyed the smell of rare cooked meats and the tales the Nords told around the fire. And these were good people here, no doubt. There were few trouble makers in Whiterun...save Mikael, obviously.

When the lady gave him permission to sit, he could have turned and thanked the gods. But he didn't. That would have been awkward. He set his helm to the side and rested himself into the chair. He was quiet for a moment, enjoying the load off. He came back to attention when the striking woman began speaking to him.

"The armor? Little bit of smithing, little bit of buying. It actually took me a while to gather a complete set." He shrugged. "I could modify it a little more, whenever I get the time." He nodded towards the beautiful battleaxe on her shoulder. "Now that...that is impressive. And rare. You a traveler?"

Valkari smiled at him. He was kind, something she rarely found here in Skyrim. Most men just ended up staring at her chest for a long period of time, but that was common here she thought.

"Interesting," Valkari admitted softly as she admired the armor. When he asked if she was a traveler, she nodded and smirked slightly. "I am," she told him, "I got it in Solstheim as a reward from the smith in the Skaal village."

Valkari admired the people there. They had their own beliefs, and had not a care in the world for war. They had so many new things there that not even the Nords here could ever dream of. It was what she lived for, anyway.

Knocking a knuckle on the icy looking battleaxe, she gave the Redguard a smirk and introduced herself, "I'm Valkari Frozen-Steel. Who might you be, traveler?"

Valkari looked up at him, herself being at least a foot shorter than him. She was used to it by this point. Most people were taller than her by a few inches or even a whole foot. Thankfully the young Nord was able to defend herself easily enough, otherwise she'd end up as a Nord's new 'toy'. That, she did not want to live out ... ever.

The redheaded woman's smile brightened up the room like viciously radiant candle. It would make the hardest of hearts melt under it's pressure, and Lazarus couldn't help return the smile with a gentle one of his own.

"My name is Lazarus D'Scari," he boomed, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Valkari Frozen-Steel. And ah...the Skaal. You know I've never had the fortune of meeting one of their people? They have such a firm grasp on their culture...nothing leaks from their little spot in Solstheim. And they are very protective of themselves. Needless to say I never had the audacity-- or the 'balls' to seek them out."

He gave his order to the barmaid: "Do you have Black-Briar Mead? No? Damn....I'll take the Honningbrew and a leg of goat if it isn't too much trouble." Looking over to Valkari, he asked her: "Can I buy you a drink, friend? And the honor of paying for your meal?"

That was a surprise. A man buying HER food, of all people in Skyrim. She had people give her coin, and flirt with her, and offered to buy her things she didn't want. But she was never asked if one would buy her food. Well, how could she say no?

"Sure, why not?" she finally asked rhetorically after some thought with a nod and a smirk. "Wouldn't mind another mug of mead myself, to be honest."

Valkari ... she wasn't the 'lady type', which usually earned her a ton of disgusted looks from the nobles around Skyrim. Man she hated snobby nobles. Always throwing their coin away over useless items, or sticking their noses up to traveling bards such as herself. One of these days, she's going to put a snobby noble woman in her place. But for now, she was talking to a rather handsome Redguard, and she didn't mind that at all.

She looked to him when he started talking about the Skaal, and she just shrugged. "I've done a lot for them, and I usually trade with them whenever I go out there. Though, lately the captain that goes out there refuses to sail to Solstheim for some reason ..." Valkari commented sadly. She loved going out there, but to her disarray the captain just won't go, no matter how much coin she attempts to give him.

As Lazarus payed for his and Valkari's drinks, he noticed Mikael slide back into the inn and take a seat on the far side of the room. He almost laughed at the poor fool. He had absolutely no game. Constantly trying to approach women aggressively and with a poor attitude. Courting was just like bear hunting. If you rush in with your sword drawn, you were going to be clawed and bitten and ripped. If you waited until just the right moment, however, you could be successful.

"I heard about that man. Won't even leave the harbor." He shook his head. "Damn shame, too. Their isn't much money in Solstheim, anyway. Not with the mines shut down and the conservativeness of the Dunmer there. I haven't been there in years, but when I did go I spent over 500 gold on the trip. I only made back about 200."

Lazarus nodded over to Mikael. "What's that kid's deal? Always chasing women...after all the fights he's been in. Were you not the one who nailed him with the lute? I bet it was beautiful." He couldn't really blame Mikael for flirting with Valkari. Someone would have to be blind dumb to not even try. She appeared headstrong, fire-spirited, and viciously attractive in a slightly intimidating way. Her bluntness was refreshing to him, and he didn't find her rude or repulsive in the slightest.

Valkari let out a sad sigh as she accepted the mead from Saadia after Lazarus payed for her drink. "Thanks," she thanked him softly and took a drink from the sweet mead. She then looked up to him after he commented about Solstheim being a poor island. "It's true, sadly enough. Although there was a funny old man in the Ebony mine ... If I had enough time to stay I would've helped him figure out the truth as to why the mine was shut down."

That was what Valkari loved to do. Explore mines and uncover secrets in them. If only she had more time to spare there, but she did not. It had been her last day, and she didn't know how long that investigation would take.

With another swig of her mead, she looked over to where she saw Mikael, and sneered lightly. "Heh, yeah that was me. Boy deserved every splinter he got from it too." Valkari glared at the boy, making him look away from her slightly. She then let out a light laugh when he said 'I bet it was beautiful'. "Well, it was beautiful to me. Felt good too after putting up with his shit for a few days ..."

That bard ... he had no respect whatsoever. He thought that he could get every woman under his wing, and the only reason he was even a bard in the first place was because he wanted affection and wenches. Bah. The only time that bard would ever get this Nord to be his, was the day of her death. After that, she hadn't the care in the world about what Mikael did with her discarded, rotting, dead body.

"Hmph. Yes, he's a shitty little punk. 30 septims say the little ass couldn't last 30 seconds outside the hold. And yet he's here, heckling women." He shook his head, becoming distracted as Saadia brought him his leg of goat.

"Here you are. It's a little overcooked, but if you like I can make another."

"It's quite alright, I'm sure this will do. Thank you."

Lazarus set the leg onto a plate and pulled out a silver knife and fork from a compartment in his satchel. Examining them to make sure they were clean, he used the shining utensils to begin cutting into his meal. As he ate, he noticed a man watching him with a confused look on his face.

Knowing the nosy man was wondering why he was eating a meal usually grasped with bare hands, Lazarus replied in mock explanation: "The silver's for werewolves."

The man was even more confused.
"Tell me, Valkari. What is your profession? How do you make your living in such a harsh and declining economy?"

Valkari couldn't help but laugh, snorting in the process. "Sorry," she apologized with another chuckle, "that wasn't so charming, me snorting like that."

A light blush found it's way onto her cheeks, but with the lighting in the room one couldn't really tell unless they were extremely observant. Thankfully, not a lot of people were, as they were much too busy chatting with their friends or getting drunk. Either way, no one could tell, and that was good on Valkari's part.

The freckled Nord was biting into her venison when she heard his question. She swallowed a bit, pounded her fist on her chest to get the rest down, and looked up at Lazarus with her icy blue eyes. "I'm a traveling bard," she finally replied after her meat went down her throat, "I'm also a part-time smith when the job occurs. Mostly for Adrianne at her forge. She smiths weapons for the guards, and I help her out from time-to-time when things get rough for her."

It was a rather sweet thing what she did for the smiths around Skyrim. They were literally buried in orders for new swords and armor. The Jarls and nobles didn't even know half of how long it took to actually SMITH something to perfection. And even after smithing it, you had to sharpen and/or fit it so it will protect or do more damage for the wielder. Ah well, helping around was the best this Nord could do until one day she was allowed to bash a noble's head in and tell them to wait their turn.

Lazarus laughed deeply as Val struggled to keep the meat down. Her brilliant eyes actually crossed a little as she swallowed it. "Bitten off a little more than we can chew, haven't we friend?" He sipped his mug and took another bite of his goat. He had all but forgotten about his sores and wounds, and was truly having a good time with Valkari.

"A part time bard, you say? Well we will most definitely have to get a song out of you while the night is young. And a smithy? Perhaps I can give you a little business before I leave. My helmet needs an expert touch, you see. It's a little damaged." Finishing his goat, he continued:

"Smithing is a good business. Especially with the demands of current events. I'd imagine the Imperials here make Avenicci a natural fortune....given Grey-Mane might not be as inclined to help them out."

Valkari nodded and smirked som at the redguard. "Mmhm ... though I'm used to it." she reassured with a laugh, taking a smaller bite of the vension onto her plate, now mostly gone. she took a swig of her mead and finished that off too.

When he mentioned about working for the Imperials, she just shook her head lightly. "I don't involve myself in the war efforts, even if the pay is as good as it gets." Valkari admitted softly to Lazarus. "I mostly just do works for the smiths that do armor for the guards or other people."

As much as Valkari saw the cause in the Stormcloaks, and the only reason for her wanting to join was that of freeing Talos worship, she just couldn't do that. It would be bad for her line of work ... and possibly her physical health if one was to chase after her by hiring thugs to beat the living spirits out of her. That, she did not want, so she steered clear of jobs like that, and focused more on the town guards who needed it more to defend THEMSELVES from the war.

The redhead raised an eyebrow when the offer for a smith job came up. "Let me see the helm," she offered as she held out a green fingerless gloved hand. "I'll be the judge of how damaged this thing is." Valkari gave him a smirk, a smirk that normally meant 'you can trust me, I won't break your stuff'

The goddess offered a slender hand to examine his damaged helmet, and Lazarus quickly set the heavy piece of equipment into her grasp. "There you are. Perhaps you can give me a quote? Heh."

As she looked at the helmet, he thought about the war. So many good people going out to die....some as young as 16 going out to be slaughtered in some random snow barren land. "I've also tried to stay out of the war. So many people have asked me about my allegiance, but when I look at this, I say this is a war between the Imperials and the Nords. Who am I to decide who should rightfully own the Nord's land? Do I take up arms and fight against the mighty Imperial army, with contacts galore? Or shall I strike down women who are noble enough to die for a cause such as independence? It isn't my place." Lazarus gave a final shake of his head, and then drank the last of his mead, setting it down next to his plate.

"Skyrim is a most beautiful land," he added, "I remember a time when one could walk through the mountains and appreciate the wonderous marvel of the view. But now, one cannot ride through a field, or hike through a forest, without finding a river of blood conceived from the blood of fallen soldiers."

He noticed someone raised a glass to drink to what he had said.

Valkari examined the helmet closely, her icy eyes seeming to look sharp as she looked for an signs of damage. Thankfully, all there was were simple dents and cracks she can easily fix. It was one of the many things that she was capable of, being as observant and talented as herself.

"I see a bit of dents around here and a couple of scratches. Nothing that shouldn't be too hard to fix ..." she mumbled as she continued to observe for anything else she missed. Once she was trained on something, it was kind of hard to draw her away.

After handing the helmet back to Lazarus, she listened to him about the war and how choosing sides was basically pointless, and only causing more bloodshed as the days went on. "Aye to that," was all she could say as she waved for another mug of mead, ready to hand her coin to Saadia as she walked over to her. Valkari had forgotten that the Redguard here was paying, but that was Valkari. She forgot a lot of things that weren't inherently important.

It was after Lazarus finished when the redheaded Nord saw mugs go up to what he said. A smirk fell on her lips as she watched, counting the coins she needed to pay as she did. Damn ... she was running a bit short. It was enough to pay her taxes for her home that was too big for herself to live in alone, but not enough for her own personal needs. Valkari just let out a sigh and handed the coin to Saadia anyway. She'll find a job later.