Having gone early to sleep, it was only natural the Mer woke early, and in any case, he was an early riser. With a yawn he rose from the hard bed, blinking away the last fog of dreams. It was only in these wee hours of the morning that Eliytres could be seen without his precious, carefully crafted mask. Slowly he stalked to his bucket, still half full of water left over from the night before. He splashed the surprisingly cool liquid in his face, feeling much more awake in the blink of an eye. The Mer sighed in contentment and leaned to the side to gaze through the window; immediately his smile faltered. The weather was terrible. In fact, if at all possible, it seemed worse. He could barely spot the wildly dancing windowsills, let alone make out the buildings on the other side of the deserted street. "Oh, wonderful. This is going to be a fun journey," lamented the Mer as he stretched his sleepy limbs. Finally satisfied with his level of awareness, he swept across the room with one last gaze, checking for everything. Mentally congratulating himself for carrying all of his valuables concealed on his person, he made for the stairs.
In the tavern, he found two sleeping Khajiit; one he was familiar with, but the other was a complete enigma. Deciding it would be wiser to wait for them to wake up – in the Mer's experience, children of Lorkhan were strangely cranky in the morning – he sat himself into a chair at the bar and started polishing his greatsword. After all, he had nothing better to do and it never hurt to have a nice, shiny weapon; you never know, with a blessing of aedra, the shine might even blind an unsuspecting opponent!
