"That I am. I've got some experience in Alteration and Restoration too, but Conjuration's my forte," Alois explained, giving the sword in his hand a bit of emphasis by rolling his shoulder. On being given the coins, he gave a smile and a nod to Sarrina's instruction, and slipped the satchel into his pocket as she walked off. Payment in advance was always nice, and was more than enough of a motivation to show up where she needed him to. Lowering the sword, he dispelled the weapon by letting go of its handle. The blade appeared to quickly burn up, leaving no trace of its existence once allowed to return to the plane from which it was pulled.<br/><br/>Her last comment drew a chuckle from the young breton, who turned to face the innkeeper once more. "So, how's that stew coming along?"<br/><br/>Later, once Alois had finished his meal, he bundled himself back up in his coat, took his pick, and left the inn's comforting warmth. The harsh kiss of the frigid air pricked at his exposed face, and every breath he gave emitted a cloud of condensed moisture. He hurriedly moved towards his home, a simple place of typical nordic design. Wood, with a straw roof. Nothing like the grand stonework of the bigger cities, but livable. The entryway was nearly bare, consisting mostly of storage. The pick in his hand was set to rest in a rack right near the door, as was the coat. He descended into the more proper living area. A fireplace with a long chimney, bookshelves, a bed, and some chairs were all strategically placed for decor and warmth. Rugs brightened the place up, but it was still hardly a shining example of architecture.<br/><br/>A chest laying against the wall was his destination. Kneeling beside it, he opened the heavy wooden container to withdraw some utilities for the trip. First and foremost, his armour. It wasn't anything particularly special, consisting of hard leather reinforced with iron chain mail, as well as a single full iron gauntlet and matching boots. Some padded clothing rested beside it, meant to be both an insulator and a protector for his exposed extremities. Beneath it, a steel shortsword in a wooden scabbard awaited use, though the setup lacked both a shield and a helmet.<br/><br/>He dressed himself, which certainly passed some time, but did not take an obscene amount of moonlight. His normal clothes were still worn beneath, for comfort's sake. Tightening the straps of the cuirass was a tad difficult without aid, but in the end, he managed. The sword met a resting place on his hip, positioned for left-handed drawing. Once fully armed and armoured, Alois stretched and hopped a few times, making sure nothing would come lose. The setup proved satisfactory, so he then got to work setting up a backpack for some on-the-road sanity savers: books, scrolls, and a bag of coin.<br/><br/>About as ready as he could manage, he gave his humble abode's living space one final look-over. The rest was fairly unimportant, save for a single interesting-looking object. A lamp, of sorts, made from the remains of a dwemer centurion's core and some scrap metal acting as legs. It had some sentimental value, and acted as a good night light, so he went ahead and tossed that into the travel pack as well. Now set and ready, he nabbed his pick before leaving, sliding the tool into a loop on the leather pack strapped to him. One could never be too prepared to break rocks.<br/><br/>He returned to the inn, staying outside by the door. To relax, he leaned on the frame and crossed his arms, watching the night's sky. At least it wasn't snowing.