All was quiet in frozen reaches of Helgen keep as men, and women, continued to prepare for the expedition into the unsettled regions of this frosty region. Yet as the biting winds licked at the unguarded faces of Helgen's guards, it brought more than the cold of the North with it. The distant sound of galloping hooves were the first to give hint at another arrival. Soon the rough tumble of wheels riding the rough, frozen ground followed before the carriage appeared. Led by two of Whiterun's dark bays, the vehicle appeared little like the more common carriages that doted Skyrim's landscape, obsidian in color, gleaming in the pale light as if freshly waxed, and its top sealed away from view with velvet drapes masking the occupants within: and, of course, it was being dragged about at a most dangerous speed.<br/><br/>As it made it to the opened gates of Helgen Keep the disgruntled driver gave a sharp tug on the reins as he forced the carriage to a dead stop, bits and pieces of dirt flying in consequence at the now irritated guardsmen. Yet before they could even make it five feet the lacquered door swung open, only to be followed by a slender leg, and then an entire figure. From head to toe this person was dressed in expensive gear, from those dark snowboots crafted from leopard hide, to the black bear hood hiding away her features: for she was definitely female, pale, porcelain cleavage revealed as the fine leather armor was drawn all too tight against the female's body.<br/><br/>Just as the men began to speak, to utter their unspoken questions in unison, the mysterious woman lifted her chin, exposing deep gold eyes that merely stared: it was all it took to silence them. Without any words spoken she passed by the driver, handing him a small pouch of coin before walking beyond the guardsmen, gates, wagons - and finally ended up at the entrance to the Tavern, a tavern she instinctively knew would be the meeting point of a rather auspicious group.<br/><br/>The large, wooden door swung open effortlessly as the soft padding of boots announced a hooded figure's arrival into the tavern. It took all but a second before her gaze was drawn upon the large Lizard so snuggly enjoying the warmth and comforts of the keep. Even as she began to move, her mysterious and regal arrival was momentarily ruined, her composure dropped as she briefly tripped upon her own feet, arms going wide to keep her balance while stumbling several feet. In a moment she recovered, straightening quickly before once again striding towards the Legate and company as if the moment of failure had not even happened. Hands rose to slide underneath the hood adorning her head, a quick tug forcing it back as long, blonde locks spilled forth behind her, revealing her feminine features and deep, blue eyes. Without a moment of hesitation she spoken, calling out into the quiet tavern with all the eloquence and propriety of a troll:<br/><br/>"What are you, some Blind Drunk?!"