Azarel in the meantime had set off for his destination quite some time ago. He had to because he was in the far east of the Region of Skyrim and Helgen was at the very south of it almost, close to the mountain pass that separates the Imperials from the Nords. He looked a touch bored as he had come down from the College into Winterhold which had recovered somewhat from the more memorable antic of Ancano. Didn't matter if he was Thalmor or not. In the eyes of the Nords he was still a mage of the College who brought more calamity upon them.<br/><br/>After packing some food and provisions for the trip on foot no less and causing him no amount of frustrations then had to walk on foot from Winterhold down towards the city of Windhelm. Marching onwards to try and make good time he remembered that he was given notice by the Archmage Aranea on the summonings by the Legate. The name escaped him for the moment as he was kind of in a bad mood after the Frost Trolls pack decided the Dunmer looked edible and instead got a face full of fiery death. By the Nine, he hated traveling!<br/><br/>Moving alongside the Snow Veil Sanctum it had become a nice little outpost for bandits that were obviously tired of living when thy tried to collect a toll from the now obviously pissed off mage. As for what kind of mess Azarel left behind in his wake, he found himself kind of hungry so he used the thieves own cooking pot to brew up some Venison Stew and then ate whilst the corpses smoldered in the cold. In terms of Morrowind that was pure luxury and honestly he wanted some energy at the halfway point between Winterhold and Windhelm.<br/><br/>Fortunately the rest of the trek on foot was more or less uneventful. And obviously like any good Dunmer to the victor go the spoils. Thus he was carrying a good amount of Hide and Fur armor along with a few trinkets on his back without stopping. Before he would get upon the carriage he stopped into the market and just piles on the objects. In a tradition of merchants hate a Dark Elf's guts, he gets the shaft when it comes to the fattening of his purse. He sighed once more and sucked it up. He was in a hurry and not in the mood for this crap so he bites his harsh words back and puts on a smile and politely nods at the price. Not a bad haul though with all that he looted. Certainly would last him until he got to Helgen.<br/><br/>He paid for the carriage to take him to Whiterun which was a pleasant trip, especially with the fact that now Guards and not bandits had control of the Valtheim Towers. After how many times travelers got harassed, were killed by the bandits or killing said bandits, the Whiterun Guards took up shop after the civil war and established control. It made good traveling at least to be able to enjoy some bread and cooked rabbit haunch in relative peace. Upon the approach to Whiterun he would depart from the Carriage since they couldn't travel down to Helgen. All the while of course picking a few plants and such he was familiar with for some planned alchemy later on. He wasn't the best at it but it was highly useful anyway to at least make some of the essentials.<br/><br/>He made his way along the more patrolled route from Whiterun and then to Riverwood. Passing the Embershard Mine he didn't go up to have a look to sightsee just in case bandits were there. So he moved onwards and stayed on the road and finally he reached the gates of Helgen... again on foot.<strong>"This better be important."</strong>He muttered to himself. Well he might as well have a look around and see how the hospitality and fare was. Any interesting goods or such to buy and so forth would be a pleasant surprise for him. At least he no longer had to march anymore to make good time.