Andrea
*She just shook her head, focusing on the stew in front of her.* "No, it's quite alright. I have a dinner to eat before it's cold. As I said, I'm quite content to simply eat and listen."
Kelly
The sound of horse drawn carriages grows louder, soldiers march along with them, and Legion Captains barking orders can be heard. Something is happening, Helgen is an Imperial fort, yes, but there's usually not this much going on.

Peering out the window would show a procession making its way through the city, carts of Stormcloak prisoners, toward the center of town a headsman can be seen sharpening his axe. Seems the Empire is planning a public execution. Two figures on one of the carts immediately pop out, mostly because they're both *Gagged*. One of them is very clearly Ulfric Stormcloak, the Jarl of Windhelm. The other would catch Liltja's eye, a younger man with platinum blonde hair.

Those with keen ears can *Swear* They hear something in the distant skies
Ralph
"Imperials and their executions." He says with a disgusted tone, "You can even see the Thalmor is there watching over it. Despicable." He looks at Tristan, "Avert your eyes, child, this isn't something for you to see."
Joseph
*The old wizard looked on at the procession, turning to Liltja with an expression of concern.*

"I am sorry, lass. A terrible time for a child to come here it seems. But... Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm. To be honest, I am almost surprised that they aren't taking him all the way to Solitude to make a show of it. Perhaps they didn't want to risk losing him in the long journey, just want to get it over with... Hmm."

*Bromfing's gaze turned to the mountains and the forests, subconsciously picking up on something he didn't recognize. He put up a finger to the air for a moment, bringing it back down after a few seconds.*

"Strange... Why is the wind howling without a breeze?"
Andrea
*The blood drained from Tia's face at the sight of Ulfric Stormcloak and she looked almost woozy, her hand flying to her neck and clutching something that laid beneath her shirt. She seemed oblivious to what the others were saying, wrapping an arm tightly around Tristan's shoulders.*
Patrick
*The boy's brow furrowed and he pointed to the blonde man, fascination gleaming in his bright eyes.* "Ma, that man looks like Uncle Thorald!" *He said loudly.*
Andrea
*His words seemed to snap Tia out of her trance, but she went even paler, rising to her feet. Stepping from the table, she clutched her son tighter.* "We need to go, Tris. Now. We should get back on the road."
Kelly
The carts stop, the soldiers start unloading the prisoners, going through the process of getting all their names. Ralof, Ulfric Stormcloak, Lokir, and then a name... A very familiar name... Kolgruf Gray-Mane.
Micah
He fights the urge to headbut the Imperial in front of him. With his mouth bound there's not much he can do. As Lokir starts trying to run he sticks his leg out and trips him, glaring daggers into him. There's nothing more sad then facing your death and retreating.
Ralph
"Gray-Mane... Say. You're a Gray-Mane, yes?" He asks without looking at her, but when he does he realizes the mistake he made, "Oh... Gods, I'm sorry, miss."
Kelly
The sounds gets closer... It's like something is angry, and approaching *Fast*
Joseph
*Bromfing didn't take his eyes off the sky and the hills. He slowly gripped his staff tightly, the ice crusting the end glowing slightly as magicka began to pulse through it. His gaze focused, his hands gripping the staff harder. And without skipping a beat he called out in a commanding voice, slamming the pommel of his staff into the ground to garner attention.*

"Something terrible is coming! Everyone, open your senses and watch the skies!"