Lalaine shook her head impatiently, rolling her eyes.
'Never fear,' Drelis assured him. 'Khargol and Lydia were in agreement the next morning that they should find a quicker route back to Whiterun. They asked a local hunter who pointed them down a game-trail that followed the river to a waterfall. If they could find a place to ford the river, they would be able to climb down the hills to the valley near Fort Amol.'
'Is that what they did then?' asked Phane.
'It was. They encountered a small pack of wolves, but it was nothing that two capable warriors couldn't handle. The walk was much easier than the one they had endured to get to Ivarstead two days ago, and a thick blanket of mist weaved its way through the trees below so that the forest appeared almost like a grey ocean littered with small green boats.'
'Did nothing happen on the way back then?' Lalaine sounded disappointed. 'Nothing at all?'
'Nothing of importance to the story,' Drelis admitted. 'There are notes in the diary about a small camp of outlaws, the scenery, a traveler smuggling moon sugar between holds, and strange lights that danced between the trees as they made their way through the woods. But nothing, like I said, of great importance.'
'So, when they got back to Whiterun, what then?'
'Well, Khargol spent a lot of time on the Warmaiden's forge, as you might expect. He improved the equipment that he and Lydia were using and forged some helms and blades for the town's guard. He might be dragonborn, but it seems that his goal of becoming a master smith was still quite important to him.'
'He must have spent a lot on raw materials,' said Lalaine.
'I believe so,' Drelis checked a diary entry. 'Khargol turned in the bounty for the bandits at the Varthiem Towers, so I should think that his reward helped with any financial costs he ran into. It seems that he had enough left over to buy property in Whiterun though, so he cannot have suffered too badly in the blacksmith's workshop.
'The house was called Breezeholm; it was largely unfurnished though, so unfortunately it lived up to its name. It was dusty and home to more cobwebs than items of furniture.
'And there you have it. Lydia's records of Khargol's movements have a large gap in them from this point. He tasked her with guarding his household, such as it was, and was gone before sunrise the next morning.'
'Where did he go?' asked Phane. 'Did he just disappear?'
'Almost,' Drelis spread his hands over the leather-bound diary. 'He had to find the horn of Jurgen Windcaller, and there were many tombs that hid secrets unseen for a thousand years. But don't worry, we know his movements. The accounts are not precise or complete, but that doesn't mean we can't build a rough picture of what went on.'
'So what did Lydia do until he came back?' Phane asked.
'What would you do?' Lalaine shot back at him. 'Your patron has left you to look after his house while he goes off to uncover lost tombs and look for legendary artifacts. You have no duties except to keep the house safe from intruders, and the local ruler provides you with a supplementary wage with which you can buy any food and drink you might need.'
'Well,' pondered Phane. 'That sounds a lot like my life already.'
The others groaned.
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