<div class="floatleft">(http://i307.photobucket.com/albums/nn313/NovemberWerewolf/Female%20Characters/Half_Elf_Girl_by_kerembeyit.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Drake Turrel<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Reach, just outside of Markarth.<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Dark<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Aelfgar, Iljana, Moric, Open.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Having the subject matter shift towards her own desires once again left the elf with a hallow feeling in her chest. Drake couldn’t quite make sense of the nervous flutter of her heart, and found herself giving the landscape a quick scan with her eyes for threats. Such a gesture was common practice in these lands, and who would blame her for being cautious? If only she understood the root of her sudden insecurity. She took to speaking in order to calm her nerves.<br/><br/>“They are quite similar to the ‘Fighters Guild’ in Cyrodiil, in that they are often hired out to serve and protect those in need. Yet these men and women have been leaderless since Ysgramore, and govern themselves as equals, if it is not already obvious by their very name.” Drake slowly turned her eyes from the landscape, meeting the Nord’s before allowing them to drift back towards the dark, jagged peaks that slowly accumulated the lazy snow. “They are the very best fighters in all of Skyrim, hunters of beast and man alike. But do not mistake them for mercenaries who can be persuaded by gold; these are people of honor.”<br/><br/>Drake’s head canted off to one side, a passing look of curiosity flickering openly across her face before one fine brow arched in question. “I am honestly surprised a Nord has not heard much about them; I’ve been captivated of the tales of the Companions since I was a little girl learning the bow in Valenwood. Only the best and the worthy may become part of the guild.”