The Warrior from the West

Serinal pulled their hood closer over them as they entered the gates of Windhelm. But unlike the last time he visited this dreary place, he was here for personal reasons. Well, mostly. Technically he was supposed to be doing some snooping around to find potential places to expand Ada's business, but he could hardly resist the temptations of the grey quarter and its many, many ways to have a good time. The fact that his illusion magics gave him the appearance of a dunmer only made it easier to get the really good stuff for a reasonable price. As he wound his way around the narrow city streets, a curious sight caused him to stop in his tracks. In one of the bars he frequented, a pair of redguards in heavy furs were standing outside the door, with the relaxed but wary attitude that comes from a profession of bodyguarding. Now this was quite the sight, what with how rare redguards were in such a distant hold. Serinal's interest was piqued, and he surreptitiously slunk towards the building, which he now identified as one of the local taverns, hoping to glean some information from the pair.
"You think the young master is doing all right in there?" Asked the younger of the two. "Don't worry yourself, Vedik. He's more than capable of handling himself." The gruffer and more grizzled man replied. They chuckle. "Sometimes I wonder why we're even here. His father's insistence, I suppose." The two of them continue conversing, but Serinal had already stopped paying attention and was casually slipping into the main entrance. "A noble from Hammerfell, here?" They thought. "Oh my. Now I gotta know what he's up to. Probably something scandalous to be in such a dingy place like this. Skooma maybe? Or meeting with a forbidden love? Ohohoho, I can already think of how to blackmail him. Ada wouldn't mind, would he? Oh, I just won't tell him. Now where's tha-" The demon's thoughts were interrupted by a roaring cheer emanating from the main table. The Dremora stuck to the wall and scurried on over to the nearest vantage point, and the sight he laid eyes on caused him to break into a wide grin. There at the table, surrounded by drunken, cheering nords, must be the noble he'd wanted to see. A young redguard, displaying the proper grooming of a noble, getting completely sloshed along with the rest of the bar's patrons. "All righ' sho lisshen here. After tha shkeletons jumped m' an' m' guardsh, Th' whole lot of ush ended up having t' fight shinch we were shurrounded, yeh? Sho thish whole battle wash goin' on, an'..." The youth seemed to be regaling the table with stories of his past adventures. Which is definitely not the sort of thing you hear often from stuffy noble folks. This fellow was turning out to be rather interesting. Serinal found an empty seat at the table and joined the crowd as they swapped boasts and embellished accounts of their own adventuring. Normally the nords would have been trouble, but the majority were simply too drunk to care. The Redguard, however, noticed the new arrive with keen if somewhat unfocused eyes. "Eh? Wash an elf like you doin' heresh. Gonna caushe trouble?" Serinal replied in a deadpan tone. "Oh, I'm actually a Daedra disguised as a Dunmer. What you see is merely illusion magic meant to conceal my true and terrible form." The redguard goes slackjawed for a moment before laughing and gesturing with his mug, spilling a fair amount of it. "Yer -hic- funny! 'sh goo'! Not shtuck up like thosh godsh-damned Thalmor, yeh. 'ave a drink." The boy ordered another mead and slid it to the "dunmer", who picked it up and quaffed the whole thing in mere seconds before slamming it on the table. "Hey!" Shouted one of the nords. "Th' elf can drink!" Another round of laughter rippled around the tavern. Serinal was enjoying himself quite a bit. Oh, if only his master could be more fun like this one. He'd really have to start working on that, sometime. The group partied well into the night, and when Serinal awoke, it was in a room he didn't recognize. Further investigation revealed the redguard had paid for rooms for anyone who couldn't stagger back home so they wouldn't be chucked out into the freezing streets. Yet further investigation (that didn't involve sneaking behind the counter and snooping into the customer registry, no sirrah) revealed the young and general noble to be a trader's son by the name of Shun Ched'ain. The demon purred in a self-satisfied way. This information was enough. More than enough. To make Adaliz forget that he totally forgot to do what he originally came here for, anyway. Whatever the case, Serinal would definitely remember this encounter, and hopefully he would again have the chance to celebrate with this new arrival to frozen north.