Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-12599067-20140128024529/@comment-11457306-20140129035712

Anwen smiled broadly at the guards who stood on either side of the door to the Jarl's longhouse. "My lord Jarl, the great Siddigar, is expecting me, I believe," she said. Her mithril armor shown and her short hair gleamed in spite of the misty morning which was usual in Falkreath. The guards admitted her, remembering the travelers from the night before. News would of course spread quickly in such a small village--and the Jarl had already been inquiring impatiently if anyone had seen any of the travelers.

Anwen entered the longhouse with Stroggvir behind her and strode boldly to the throne, going down on one knee when she came within a respectful distance. "My lord, I bid you greeting again.  I am Anwen," she purred, knowing full well that the Jarl would likely remember her.

(You're up, Billy.  BRB)