Rain. It was raining over Whiterun Hold, the dim light of the afternoon was darkened by storm clouds. A flash of lightning lit the ground, revealing every humanoid and beast in the surrounding area, a peel of thunder frightened horses and scattered birds. Storms in Skyrim were something to behold, both calmer and fiercer than one in Cyrodiil. At least the arctic country was too cold to be unbearably hot and humid, but the ground was almost always muddy, everything has its drawbacks.

The falling water plastered the Imperial's hair to his head and face, he was too busy practicing to enter Jorrvaskr. The Circle wouldn't appreciate him attempting magic indoors, anyway, so Reman wasn't about to ask. That was the only drawback to not knowing any spells, one had to manipulate raw magicka to increase his of her skill, and that was exactly what Reman was doing. With the thrust of an open palm, lightning crashed form the sky, obliterating a practice dummy in fiery splinters. That eruption was almost as impressive as the his first attempt, back in Kvatch, with Gaston and his daughter...

Lynette was bunked in the Bannered Mare, Reman would tell Kodlak about the Breton, eventually. At the moment, the lycan had bigger things on his mind. The frequent lightning provided adequate light to search the area, so long as Reman's eyes could adapt. A quick survey of the eastern farms revealed the eight ponies, waiting for the Imperial's signal. Of course, it would have been better to actually have a signal prepared. Sighing, Reman left his perch to find a quill, ink and paper, he needed to write a letter.

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Rain. The oppressing clouds blotted out the moons and obscured the stars, and provided enough darkness that even Rarity's coat blended nicely. Everypony was huddled under a waterproof tarp, avoiding the rain as best they could, waiting for the signal to enter the city. Of course, there hadn't been a preset sign, and the eight mares were stuck, shivering against the chilling night. That was until a flare of magic enveloped Princess Luna's horn.

“A letter from Reman?” As though the Nirn wanted to answer the alicorn, a roll of paper, neatly sealed with a wax paw-print. “Why would he send one in the middle of a storm?” the answer was undoubtedly held within, but the Princess still felt like asking aloud. Breaking the still-warm wax, Luna read the note.

Hurry up, patrols aren't near you. - Reman

PS – We need a signal for any other situations like this.

Needing no further inspiration, the mares jumped into action. The pegasi and lone alicorn wrapped their legs around another equine, no pony with wings was without a payload. The grounded mares took a running start before takeoff, and allowed their flying partners to catch a draft before taking to the skies. Fluttershy was the only one that would have had trouble, so Twilight gave her as much assistance, lightening herself to aid the Element of Kindness.

Hooves crashed onto soggy earth, the ponies nearly lost their footing as mud gave way under the force of their entry. Their were no injuries, though Rarity would contest that claim. She wasn't harmed, no, she merely fell and tarnished her coat with dark sludge. The eight mares took a moment to get their bearings, acquaint themselves with Whiterun's interior, though more specifically, Jorrvaskr's rear yard. The first thing Glade noticed was the large, wooden awning, with torches burning beneath the outdoor roof.

She also noticed the six humans currently using it to stay out of the weather.

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“I really need to stop trying to anticipate what you're going to do next, Reman.” Kodlak didn't sound like he was unnerved by the small equines. If anything, he seemed amused by the colorful ponies. Skjor and Vilkas, however, were not happy about the seemingly harmless creatures. Ignoring the two Nords, the eldest lycan addressed the group before him. “I trust you are the ones seeking an alliance with the Companions?”

“Indeed we are, sir.” Luna bowed respectfully, trying to approach from a position of humility and goodwill. Upon rising, however, the Princess was met with a response she had not expected.

“There is a difference between diplomacy and boot licking, I suggest you learn it.” The old man hadn't the time to deal with subservient politicians, he was breaking his own creed enough as it was. “But, I suppose courtesy is needed between us.” At those words, the fourteen visibly relaxed. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

For some reason, the ponies hadn't made use of the awning. Needless to say, they immediately changed that fact. Blasts of magic dried the mares, Skjor scoffed st the display of arcane talent. Shaking herself dry, Glade was the first to take a seat on one of the benches, obviously not one for participating in politics. The royal alicorn, however, decided to begin the negotiations.

“I am Princess Luna, co-ruler of the kingdom of Equestria.” While she was trying to sound both formal and casual, and was failing at it, at least she wasn't using the Royal Canterlot Voice. It was likely that many within the city would awaken if the Night Princess was that loud. “As you know, I have come to represent not only my sister's interests, but my own.”

“And those interests would be?” The Companions had a rule about staying out of politics, the law wasn't official, but many within the group followed it. Kodlak was no different, he had denied both Ulfric Stormcloak and General Tullius in their requests for support. Though, perhaps these equines would prove to be a cut above the petty squabbles of old warriors.

“Ensuring Equestria's security and alliance with both the Empire and Aldmeri Dominion.” The request wasn't worded in the best possible way, and the old Nord could tell that Luna didn't have all the information she needed to understand the full situation in Skyrim, much less the Empire as a whole. “Reman kindly informed my sister and I of your influence within this country.”

“Did he also tell you about the Companions' rule about political conflicts?” Kodlak understood the implications that this could bring, especially after Hircine permanently bridged the planes, everyone with ambition would have his eyes on Equestria. If the Dominion thought they could harvest the ponies for resources or labor, then the old werewolf would gladly step in, for all his sword arm was worth.

“Indeed he did, though this doesn't count as a conflict, bloodshed is incredibly unlikely in this situation.” The royal pony seemed to have the utmost confidence in her thoughts, though Luna's estimates may have been off by a bit. “I hope that this nullifies any reluctance on your end.”

“I fail to see where the Companions benefit from this arrangement.” Kodlak didn't care for riches, he had plenty, and gold flowed into Jorrvaskr faster than one could collect it. Money wouldn't be of any value in these negotiations. “We are mercenaries, Princess.”

“Then perhaps my expedition's unlimited funds will be appealing to your group.” To illustrate her point, the blue alicorn pulled a sack from her saddlebag, and gave it a toss. Vilkas put himself between the airborne bag and the Harbinger, easily catching the cloth container. Its contents were hard, but the textile bowl made no metallic noise when shaken.

“Well, Reman, they are here as a favor to you.” Kodlak didn't say anything else, he didn't need to, the old lycan's message was clear. Without a word, Vilkas tossed the sack to the Imperial, a silent order to open it. It was a formality, the Circle was well aware of how peaceful the ponies were, even if they were slow to believe what had flown into their training yard.

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“Numerous gems, mostly emeralds and sapphires.” Glade was impressed by her forebear's quick understanding of the crystalline minerals. Though, the Imperial's monotone voice and blank, stony expression was unsettling, but he was here as a warrior, not a friend. “Given the number, I'd estimate a value of at least ten thousand septims.”

“Well, Reman, that should cover the cost to hire you for a few months.” Luna's eyes nearly bugged out of her head when Kodlak said those words. She was about to voice her concerns, that the gems were a payment to buy the Companions' alliance, not Reman's services. “Are you truly surprised?”

“We were hoping to gain your trust, not hire anyone.” The Princess of Night was confused, perhaps more so than the Imperial she had inadvertently purchased. Reman had pledged his assistance before the jewels changed hooves, and with his impressive debt, there was no reason to bolster his devotion.

“The Companions stay out of politics whenever possible, and this is no different.” The old Nord was stalwart in his beliefs, and he would not be swayed. “I cannot involve anyone, but I can give you some advice on how to improve your chances.”

“Any assistance you could provide would be appreciated.” Luna was relieved to hear the Harbinger's offer of aid, even if it wasn't what the Princess of Night was hoping for.

“Don't try to sway the Jarls or the High Queen, you should focus on the people. The leaders have alliances and grudges against one another, but the citizenry does not, beyond the division of the civil war.” Kodlak knew how difficult it would be to earn the trust of the sons and daughters of Skyrim, and the problems would only be magnified if Reman's heritage became common knowledge. “Get the people to trust you, and their leaders will follow suit.”

“Your counsel is much appreciated, Kodlak.” Luna refrained from bowing, better to not disperse the miniscule amount of respect that she may have earned. Though the current objective had been reached, the subject of sleeping arrangements still stood. “I don't suppose you could point us to the nearest inn?”

“Nonsense, no friend of a Companion should sleep in the Bannered Mare when there are plenty of empty beds in Jorrvaskr.” Kodlak was one of the more hospitable Harbingers in the group's history, he would not turn someone from a warm fire, not if the other options was freezing rain. “Come in, we can share a few drinks before bed.”

While the ponies were slightly worried about accepting the warrior's offer, the mares gave their collective consent, and followed Kodlak Whitemane and the rest of the Cirle inside the ancient mead hall.

In the relaxed atmosphere, no one noticed Reman and Glade sneak downstairs.

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Uriel

Your previous letter has troubled me deeply, it is regrettable that such wonderful news must be paired with such tragedy. I have written your father on this matter, and his war camp will be on the lookout for Reman, maybe he'll have more luck than either of us in this matter. I must ask that you stay in the Whiterun camp, your position is too vital to defend against any Stormcloak assault. I have issued a standing order to capture werewolves alive, and published bounties for any civilians that do so. Perhaps Reman will find us, first. We can only hope and pray that he is delivered safely to us.

- Marcus