They looked unorthodox, any casual observer would say that much as the motley crew walked over the final ridge before Dawnstar. The town's formerly nightmare-plagued residents were glad to see the familiar sight of Reman and Renoir, the two men had helped numerous people around the small township. Friendly waves came from the villagers as the humans strode into town, but curious looks fell upon the ponies, their pastel colors unheard of in the Pale.

“Odd lookin' Daedra ya got there.” One of the Nord guardsmen had been brave enough to approach the bunch, not that they were any sort of intimidating. One classic trait that could be applied to the simple protectors of Skyrim's many settlements was the complete lack of fear they presented their enemies. “I bet they make good carriage pullers.”

“Actually, they-” Lynette tried to speak her mind, the adorable ponies weren't Daedric in nature, nor were they workhorses. Sadly, the petite Breton was cut off by the armored Dawnstar Guard.

“Wouldn't mind havin' a few Daedra horses, m'self.” The strange Nord just walked away after that, leaving the eleven to their own devices. Even the snow seemed to stop falling as silence descended upon them, the unusual day seemed like it was trying to outdo itself in Tamriellic oddity. If things weren't out of the norm from Dawnstar, the newest ship to port was worth noting, if only for its absolute lack of unique qualities.

“Sail on, my Cyrus, sail on.” Reman only quoted the old sea song because he recognized the style of ship, typical from Hammerfell, the all-Redguard crew only cemented the possibility. The lycan and one of the men acknowledged each other as they passed, just a courtesy between strangers.

“Make any other friends of questionable quality?” Lynette was merely badgering the Imperial, she was well aware that the list of seedy characters an average adventurer knew was rather lengthy. Still, it felt good to pester her childhood compatriot once more.

“I really don't like being outside in this place.” Fluttershy's eyes darted around the open, harbor-side town, almost as though she expected some trouble to materialize from the ground. Despite her paranoid attitude, most of the citizenry had returned to their own business, it seemed that magical, pastel-colored ponies weren't enough to warrant blatant fear and mistrust in Skyrim.

“I agree completely.” Glade was lying through her teeth, she absolutely loved being outside, she also despised being bundled up in three quilts with every fiber of her being. Reman had insisted on the added insulation, even though her natural resistance to cold would suffice, the more experienced lycan would have no arguments when it came to the safety of his unborn offspring. The group was about to head into the Windpeak Inn, but Rainbow Dash gave them slight pause.

“One of those guys is headin' our way.” The Element of Loyalty was correct, one of the Redguards was walking towards the odd bunch. The desert-dweller seemed friendly enough, which was cause for the three humans to reach to their weapons, but when he held up a welcoming hand, tension slightly lessened.

“Afternoon, Cyrodiil, you're keeping some strange company, if you don't mind me saying.” The dark-skinned man had cornrowed hair and walked in a way that exuded his guerrilla combat expertise. Renoir had him pegged for an Alik'r marauder, but there was no way to be certain, the stranger’s accent was from a port town and nowhere near raiding hotspots. The people of Hammerfell were very traditional, and would only be so direct with someone if there was something they wanted to know about that person, this was another indication in a field of mixed signals. “My name is Thaik, by the way.”

“Reman of Kvatch.” The Imperial extended his hand, expecting to receive a shake, but he had spent enough time in his brief journey through Hammerfell to know how foreign the gesture was. When the possible marauder did not return the favor, the lycan had a sense of the man's character, and it wasn't shining in any light.

“Renoir Belmont, of Daggerfall.” The Breton mage bowed in greeting, which was returned in kind by the Redguard. “May you find the oasis at midday” Thaik blinked, he obviously hadn't been expecting the masked man to know his native tongue. Speaking Common, he realized his accent must have been fairly thick if foreigner were able to pick up on it.

“And may the sun show mercy.” That was the traditional exchange between strangers, a welcome facet from home in the strange land. The Redguard remembered a mistake and quickly righted himself, for all he knew, the motley crew before him could have been very powerful people and horse... things. “Pardon, madam, but I seem to have momentarily forgotten about you.”

“No offense taken, sir.” The marauder fell on his ass and crawled back about twelve feet. The dark blue horse just spoke, and the three people with it weren't fazed by its female voice.

“Demon!”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

Marcus looked his only son, and was not disappointed by what he saw. Antonius was barking orders at a squadron of raw recruits, a display of his martial expertise and point of Pride for the Tullius family. At the same time, Uriel was at the other end of the courtyard, training a handful of men as negotiators, a role only Imperials were allowed to fill. There was no prejudice, merely racial advantage that benefited the Empire.

“Are you trying to get your family killed, recruit?” Antonius was shouting at a young man, a Dunmer from Markarth that had accidentally let his sword go during a swing, a grievous error that would surely result in death during a skirmish.

“No, sir!” The greying Imperial shoved the elf towards the fallen weapon, something most armies would have seen as harsh. Those nations didn't know the Legion.

“Well, you're practically inviting a Stormcloak to cleave your wife in half!” The heavily-armored Antonius pounded his own breastplate, the almost instinctive signal to rally shared by all warring people. “Now, get in there and cut the bastard down!”

“And that's why the Legion always endures.” Marcus chuckled to his guest, who was a unexpected, but not unwelcome, surprise. The Emperor wasn't scheduled to arrive for another twelve days, in truth, it would be the monarch's double arriving on the Katariah. The real Titus Mede was leaning against the balcony alongside his fellow countryman. “Though, I'm certain you already knew that, Your Grace.”

“We are both men here, General, there is little need for formality, neither of us have enough years left on Nirn for any of that.” The Emperor was slightly pleased to see Marcus raise his glass in agreement, but it may also have been an excuse to down the rest of his brandy. “I trust the family is well?”

“Numerous and far-spread, as usual.” The aged warrior was unused to being in polite company when near His Majesty, though he had shared an audience with the Emperor on numerous occasions. “But, we're finally returning Reman to the flock.”

“Young Reman is alive?” Titus recalled the scamp, he was the troublesome twin that kicked his knee when they first met, he always liked that one. The Emperor had also attended the boy's symbolic funeral, nothing quite cemented the finality of death like bodiless burial. “He must be twenty-three years old, now.”

“He and Uriel turn twenty-three in a few months.” The general poured the Emperor and himself another glass, alcohol would help with the nerves of it all. Especially with the request he would be making after the monarch settled in, why couldn't things ever be easy for Marcus? “When they were little, they made me feel young again, now I just feel ancient.”

“Believe me, I understand your pain.” Titus' own great-grandchildren were in their teens, if Tullius felt ancient, the Emperor surely felt like a Second Era statuette. “Not a day goes by that I don't find some new ache or pain.” The royal man barely had any room to speak of pain, though, as General Tullius had served in the Great War, and both were very much aware of that glaring fact. “Skyrim's weather is terrible on my joints.”

“Some of my old scars flare up when it snows, but you barely notice the everyday pain after a few weeks.” Marcus rotated his shield arm's shoulder in emphasis, the achy limb would also serve as leverage in the near future. If the sky got any darker, it would be the very near future. “Hopefully, Uriel will avoid the mistakes of his predecessors.”

“Right, perhaps we should avoid the topic of conflict, shall we?”

@#@#@#@#@#@#

“Sorry about startling you earlier.” Princess Luna was keeping a friendly amount of space between her and the marauder, the very last thing anypony needed was a scene in the Windpeak Inn.

“It's alright, I'm a jumpy person on the best of days.” Thaik was a raider from Hammerfell; he and his warband had to be nervous at all times, otherwise, ambushes were bound to happen.

“I'm more surprised your crew didn't come to your aid.” Renoir wasn't being rude by accident, he was deliberately probing for more information. One didn't live for a century without being forceful when the situation called for it, and this was crying from the rooftops to pry as much as possible. However, it was possible the vampiric Breton may have been overstepping his boundaries.

“Those are just some men I hired to get me out of the country.” The Redguard looked into the distance, far beyond the walls and snow that surrounded him. The thousand-yard stare was familiar to many seated at the table, a sterling reminder of what its owner had been through, and a memorial to those lost. “My real crew died in the Alik'r about a week ago.”

“I trust they died with their swords in hand?” Reman wasn't going to waste his breath saying he was sorry, or how he felt bad for the man's loss, to do so would be insulting to their memory. When Thaik nodded, the Imperial signaled the bartender to bring the raider another few bottles, there was nothing more to be done about them, crying and mourning wouldn't bring them back. “I'm certain they died well.”

“Like true warriors, they fought for what they believed in.” Though the marauder did not mention it, the combat veterans had a glimmer of who the band had been fighting, but they weren't exactly in the best place to talk of it.

“Pardon, but you've traveled a long way, why come to Skyrim?” That was something Lynette could figure out, the Alik'r portion of Hammerfell was nowhere near the border, and Dawnstar was much farther than that. It was strange for someone to go that distance, unless it was for revenge, but the warrior hadn't said anything about hunting the culprit down.

“I just had the urge to come here, can't really explain it.” With Thaik's shrugging shoulders, the conversation took a turn to religion, and followed the usual pattern for the various Divines and peculiarities of worship in the various nations of Tamriel. Across the bar, a much more interesting conversation was taking place, between three Elements and a werewolf, it was something on a level unseen since the days of Saint Alessia.

“This tastes like honey, but it's almost too different.” Fluttershy had been drinking quite a bit of Nord mead, and she had recently asked why her stomach was minty-chilled. Rarity and Applejack had confirmed their suspicions that their friend and alcohol were not to mix under any circumstances, but they tested the hypothesis in the least suitable environment.

“Mead will do that, trust me.” Glade had never actually tasted the Nord drink, but her father had let her sample the stuff when she was younger, and the unique taste had stuck with her. Granted, her uncle had brewed it, and used quite a bit of added ingredients, so it was likely to be very different from other examples.

“Too bad you can't have any.” The Element of Kindness was hoping to share the experience, but she knew how Rarity and Applejack felt about drinking. They unicorn and earth pony turned to the pegasus between them, curious as to why she was unable to partake in the distilled beverage. It was no secret that Summer Glade enjoyed tossing back a few, she had done that quite a bit after her battle with Hircine, so why was she abstaining now?

“Don't give me that look, I'm trying to stay alert.” The bleached pegasus was obviously dodging the unspoken questions, she'd even attempted to hide behind her dyed mane to avoid the Element of Honesty's eyes.

“So you're going to drink when we get back to Equestria?” Fluttershy better not have been taking things where Glade thought they were going. It wasn't that she was embarrassed, or even Lynette's possible reaction, the crowd posed the largest threat, even if the other patrons had payed them no mind since they had entered the establishment. Whatever gods were in charge of the flow of events, they seemed to laugh at her plight, because they lined everything up perfectly. “Won't that be bad for the baby?”

“You're pre-” A hoof clamped over Rarity's mouth before any more could escape her lips, but the damage was done. Even if the gossip-queen's mind hadn't immediately wrapped around the juicy detail in an equally spicy tale of, in her own words, a forbidden and tainted romance, another of the Element Bearers would make sure the news was spread to the highest reaches of Aetherius.

“YOU'RE HAVING A BABY?!” Pinkie appeared from under the table, party favor and pointy hat already equipped and eager for action. In that moment, the entire inn went silent, one could have heard the wind, had it not similarly quieted. All eyes were on the table of ponies, ragged, tired, forlorn, but none were angry or upset, just slightly annoyed at the loud outburst. After a few moments, they returned to their own drinks and conversations, the incident already forgotten. Dawnstar was a mining town, most residents were too exhausted or stressed to care about some colorful equines and their unborn children. In truth, the greatest reactions were from those that personally knew the mares.

Luna had no visible reaction, she already knew about the little surprise, it wasn't news to her in any form.

Renoir was wearing a mask, though he was slack-jawed at the display, as a gentleman, such things were unacceptable in his crimson eyes.

Lynette had both hands in the air, she had given a small whoop in approval, just her being silly and happy that the gloom and doom of her group's conversation was temporarily forgotten.

Rainbow Dash spit her drink all over the man next to her, but he had been passed out for the previous twenty minutes, so there was no harm done.

Twilight had already pieced together the puzzle of the foal's paternity, and was silently congratulating and worrying for the strange couple.

Even Reman's stoic helmet was having difficulty playing it cool.