Ryan
Falkreath. What a dismal little hold it was... Or at least, that's how it would seem to the uneducated. 

Atmosphere, or lack thereof, was of no concern to Hecaron. He didn't come to Falkreath because it was the most hospitable hold in all of Skyrim, indeed, creature comforts mattered little to him, despite what his state of dress might inform. In fact, it was the rich history of these lands that intrigued him so, and in particular, the graveyard that took up the majority of the township proper's real estate. It was such a fascinating little place, from what he'd heard and read, with connections reaching as far and as deep as to the tales of Hjalti Early-Beard, who would later become the famed Tiber Septim, and according to the Nords these days, Talos.

It was a place rich in history, and Hecaron found it all so exciting!

It helped that the place was quiet, and also that there weren't any damned Thalmor. That encounter when he came in off the boat scared him damn near out of his breeches, but thankfully, it was the only such encounter he'd had since coming to Skyrim.

For now, he would attempt to relax his inquisitive mind with a mug of one of the local flavors. *Black-Briar Mead*, from Riften. He'd had it before, of course, Etienne had sworn by the stuff as unlike anything you could get outside of Skyrim, but in all honesty, something about it just tasted off. Not enough to make him waste the gold he paid for it, but enough that he was more nursing it than properly drinking, preferring instead to keep his attention on his newest acquisition- a copy of *Song of the Askelde Men*. Fascinating stuff, truly...
David
Soon enough, the quiet mood would be broke. The doors would swing wipe open and a Nord with fiery red hair would step in. A wide smile on his face.

"I have slain the mighty Horgaar the Merciless. Your roads are a bit safer now friends!" He boasted.

Some men had a confused face, perhaps they were not aware or were too drunk to care. But there were a few cheers and claps from some of the patrons or the workers of the bar.


"I do not wish to celebrate this alone, the next two rounds are on me! Hurah!!!" Frogar would shout, slamming a bag of gold onto the bar counter. 

Soon enough... Cheers and happiness would fill the bar. Drinks were being served and people began to chatter and be more positive. I mean, who wouldn't?

Frogar would make his way up to the bar.

"I'll have a Honey-brew Mead... Extra foamy with shavings on top please." He would order. Soon enough, a mug of Mead would be given to him and he made his way to his own table, raising a glass.

"To a better tomorrow!" He cheered.
Ryan
Well, damnation!

Hecaron practically jumped out of his boots at the sudden intrusion, though not out of irritation. Indeed, it was very difficult to irritate the elf, with his sunny disposition. Instead, he simply turned to regard the man in question, the very specimen of the men of Atmora he was currently reading of. 

Of course, when the wench made her rounds and offered him another round of Black-Briar, he internally winced. He was not going to be able to drink all of this in anything resembling a reasonable time... Perhaps something else? Colovian Brandy would hit the spot about now, but he didn't want to look too out of place...

"Instead, dear, might I have what our local hero is having?" He asked, looking towards the stranger. "And match his boast, if you please. Another round for the gentleman, off the top shelf."

With a handful of coin, his wish was granted, and closing the *Song* Before him, he would place it in his rucksack, along with the stack of other book's he'd acquired before leaving Solitude, and stood up to his full height with a mild groan of exertion. If he'd stayed sitting like that any longer, he'd have splinters in his arse. With the slightest adjustment to his pack, he would stride purposefully over to the conquering hero of the day, and placing his mead at an open place next to him on the table with a loud *Clank*. 

"Room for one more, friend? I'm in need of entertainment, and it sounds as if you have quite the story to tell!" 

He was quite the chipper elf, that much would be sure to this stranger. Awfully chipper, even, to say that some among Nords might not be so happy to see one of his kind. For his part, Hecaron wasn't sure if this Nord was one of those 'damned elves begone from my land' types, or one of the much more common 'minding my own damn business' types. He supposed there was no harm in finding out one way or another.
David
"Did I ask...?" Frogar soon had a frown... And squinted his eyes...

He stared at him for a solid second... Before a smile grew and he laughed.
"I'm just messing with you! Join me friend! I'll tell you how I managed to slay that foul Orc and his band of brigands!" He would cheers and clank his mug, taking a chug.

"I hope I didn't offend you. I know you Altmer get some stink eyes from us Nords. Just know that I only look at the heart... Not the eyes, hair or skin... Unless your a Falmer then maybe I'll have to get a nose plug! Haha!" He would laugh.

Frogar was one for jokes. He had hoped his first impression was seen as a joke... To throw the Altmer off.
Ryan
Well, good to know this one had a sense of humor about him! 

Hecaron laughed, perhaps a bit harder than most would have, but in truth, he found this gentleman's good humor refreshing. Too often people thought him the stereotype of the haughty elf, too stuck up his own arse to let loose and have a bit of fun. 

"I would hope you don't look at my hair, friend, it's rather a mess these days!" He replied jovially, "But oh, I understand your trepidation. Truly, I'm far from the most dashing of elves, but Falmer? Friend, there are nicer ways to tell me I need a bath!"

He was clearly having fun with the Nord at this point. It had been a while since he'd had a truly friendly conversation with... Well, anyone! This was a perfectly wonderful change of pace.

"Well, now, don't delay! Let's hear about your triumph, son of Skyrim!"
David
"Hahahaha!" He laughed.

"Well... Where do I begin?" He tapped his chin and took a drink.

"I came to this town, saw that folks around here were a bit tense... Turns out there was a hostile group of brigands... Harassing the local roads and attacking trade routes. The jarl had a bounty as his guard were either too lazy or scared to take them on." He paused.

"Not me." He added with dramatic effect.

"I tracked them down... With a bit of planning. I waited for them to get their bellies filled with their mead and their minds clouded. I came at them from the trees, throwing my Axe at one before he could react I finished him off...

One reached for her sword until I kicked her into the campfire, that made her run into the forest. The other two... Too slow before I cut them down. The other began to shake in fear, I had them where I wanted them. But along came Horgaar... He challenged me to a duel... And I gladly accepted. His men cheered and had all hopes on their leader." He would then finally take a breath and a drink.