Larry
Aerin: The Warrior would enter the building.

He looked around, seeing fellow patrons enjoy their meals or drinks, Solitude felt a bit like home compared to the other Nord Villages or cities he passed by. The immense Imperial Forces reminded him of home.

Here he was, he had a bit of a lead on his brother. A traveler said he last saw him head to Solitude, a few other accounts supported this. For now, Aerin needed something to eat, before he could set off in search of his brother. But he was also getting low on funds, he may need to find some merc work to get some extra coin in his bags.
James
EA:Amongst the patrons, one stood out. A tall elf, an altmer, dressed in the finest garments and cloaked with furs. He spoke briefly with the innkeeper before taking a seat right at the bar. 

He awaits his order patiently, not really taking mind of the other patrons of the inn. Like them, he's just another customer seeking some warmth from a bowl of stew.
Larry
Aerin would grab a seat at the bar counter, ordering a Stew and a mug of ale. 

He would keep to himself, the merc wasn't much of a social person, he didn't sought out to make himself known. The merc would take off his full helm that covered his head and place it into the counter. His shield was layer down by his stool and he would look around, giving a glance towards the Altmer but would go back to minding his own bussniess.
Cody
Erandil gave a glance to Aerin, taking a good look at his equipment and the man himself. Perhaps the man is one of the Imperial soldiers? No, can't be right. The altmer had thought they weren't allowed in the taverns for professionalism's sake. Then again. He could be wrong, after all, he's lived most of his adulthood seeing the Imperials as mortal enemies. 

And as the Thalmor's plaything following the brutal war. He shakes his head to do away with such thoughts, that's all in the past now. The altmer shifts in his seat, the glint of his sword's elven metal hilt visible as he did so.