Harold
*From the horizon above the waters surrounding Solstheim, a single vessel pierced the fog and ash. A wooden vessel of Nordic make- the Northern Maiden. One of the only ships passing to and from the island. On deck, Gjalund Salt-Sage ordered around the crew, who worked the rigging and ropes fiercely. Gradually, the vessel drew closer and closer, sliding into port adjacent to the dock. While the crew continued their work, one passenger departed.*
Eloise
*An old and weary looking Imperial climbed onto the docks from the deck, breathing in the ashen air with a sigh of relief. He was dressed in thick, dark leather and wearing a battered cloak of similar materials. At his hip was a fairly well-crafted steel longsword. His face was scarred and worn, but surprisingly lacking wrinkles, covered in a thick gray beard. His eyes- deep brown and looking around the area- gave the impression of a man used to authority, as if he expected to be met by an entourage of soldiers. From there he began to walk down the docks towards Raven Rock's center.*
Phyllis
"It's a rare sight when one of our own comes to Raven Rock." A hooded dunmer says, his good eye would you have you believe he was blind, yet his piercing gaze says otherwise, "What would one from the Volkihar brood want here?" He asks in an accusatory tone
Eloise
*The old man looked a bit confused and perturbed by the sudden intrusion, but after a moment of looking at the Dunmer he began to come down.*

"Volkihar? I do not affiliate with them. I have met one of their own before, but I have no interest in them. So, you know what I am. And your greeting implies it's mutual. What would you do with me then? Drive a blade through my heart and leave my body for the sun?"

*It was less sarcasm with which the old vampire spoke, and more a serious question. The light around his eyes seemed to 'twitch', as the illusion faltered for a moment. One of his brown eyes reverted to a deep black, adorned with a fiery glowing pupil.*
Phyllis
"I doubt killing you would matter all that much, many already believe you're dead, Centurion." He says, "I think I'd have use for you, though. What do you know of Falx Carius and his time here?"
Eloise
"Then you know who I am. Not ideal, but at least you don't intend to kill me... General Carius? Haven't heard that name in some time, and not often. The extent of my knowledge is that he was the commanding officer at Fort Frostmoth, back when the East Empire Company was in charge of Raven Rock. He perished during the eruption of Red Mountain."
Phyllis
"Things are never so easy, are they? Seems he's somehow avoided dying." He says, taking out the Declaration of War, "Our dear old General has seen it fit to declare war on Raven Rock, and instead of leading Legionnaires he's been sending Ash Spawn to do his dirty work."
Eloise
"Tamriel always has had a tendency for the unusual, hasn't it. Did he contract vampirism somehow? And what in Oblivion are 'ash spawn?'"

*Andral tilted his head with slight confusion, awaiting a response.*
Phyllis
"Forgot you were an Outlander for a second." He says with a short laugh, with a quick movement in his hand he conjures his own, "A form of undead, encased in a hard layer of ash making them harder to kill than say, a draugr. They're also adept with flame magic, making them particularly dangerous for those with out condition. And I doubt he's a vampire, it's something else."
Eloise
"A very bad situation, then. I'm assuming you want my aid in this matter because of my experience, to deal with whatever remains of General Carius."