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Irri wandered about for a bit, seeking out an archery shop.

The elf looked blank. "Oh, um, you might want to ask the owner of the shop," she said quietly. "He's my cousin...or my brother. I can never remember. Anyway, I'm just visiting. I'm Wylandriah, by the way."

...

Tucked into an alley, Irri found a small stand, manned by a blonde Nord. She was tall, and her shoulders were broad, but most noticeable was the intricate warpaint decorating every visible surface of her body. She was intently gluing a trio of carefully trimmed feathers to the shaft of an arrow.

"Need something?" the Nord asked as Irri approached, not looking up from her work.

Gives-Out-Shadow looked at Wylandriah. "You might be best to remember which, one might think you to be lying." He said simply.

Irri gazed at the woman for a moment, seemingly transfixed. "Those are beautiful." She said distantly, her eyes following one of the spiralling patterns up the woman's arm.

The Bosmer shook herself. "Ahm, right. You sell bows, yes?"

Wylandriah laughed, a sweet, clear sound. "You're funny!" she exclaimed. "I don't see many Argonians up this way, either."

...

Applying one last drop of adhesive, the woman set aside the arrow and leaned back, looking at Irri. "Aye, that I do. What would you be after? I've plain and simple wooden ones, or a few of horn, metal, or other material, if that's what catches your fancy."

"Where do you visit from?" Dal asked, temporarily distracted from his purpose of entering the shop.

"Wylandriah? Of Riften?" Brandoril grinned widely. "I've read your papers on theoretical applied harmonics and it's just...Fascinating. It's a pleasure to meet you." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Didn't you manage to create and maintain a field of permanent harmonic energy by using a soul siphon to hold the field in place? And swallow a soul gem, counteracting dimensional collapse?" His cheeks turned flush. "Utter brilliance! I've never read about anybody else having even remotely successful results!" He continued blathering on, incoherently, something about the "magic number seven", or some other nonsense.

Irri looked along the rows of bows. "I prefer wood or horn..." She said indistinctly.

Gives-Out-Shadow looked at Branoril. He shook his head sadly. "Ignore that one, I never know what he is on about.. and the amount of drool coming out of his mouth is enough for a khajiiti village." He said to Wylandriah.

Brandoril either ignored or did not hear the snide comment and continued his ranting.

"Oh...yes," said Wylandriah slowly, clearly quite flustered. "It's not every day I meet someone who knows of my work. My cousin just got in a very large box, completely filled with my new book, freshly printed in the Imperial City. Perhaps you've heard of it? Theoretically Applied Harmonic Energy Via Advanced Techniques Using Cloud Emulsifiers & Soul Siphoning With Regards to Dimensional Stability & Advil's Law of Transcendental Bioalchemy. If you're interested, I'm sure he'd sell you a copy."

...

"I think I have something that may interest you," said the Nord, pulling something from beneath her stand. "An adventurer sold this to me the other day for mere peanuts, but it seems to be quite a marvelous discovery. Said he found it in a Dwemer ruin, I don't know what that's about..." She laid a rather curious bow on the counter, of exotic design and constructed of some dark blue material. "I think it's chitin, like what the Dunmer use, but I've never seen anything like it. I was testing it out earlier, and it seems to shoot better than anything I've ever seen, aside from those volcanic glass bows."

"Of course! But, perhaps, we couuuuld...Discuss your work, over dinner?" he asked, with a wink. "I would love to hear about the potential magickal anomalies that could arise should a field of harmonic energy collide with a photonic resonation barrier from the renowned author, her wonderful self." He looked around at the others. "And should you be returning to Riften soon, perhaps we could...Travel together?"

"I might go to Riften with you," said Dal.

"I would like that," said the Bosmer sweetly. "I'm to be leaving tomorrow...Or was it yesterday? I'm not sure."

Brandoril scratched his chin. "Tonight?", he asked, looking at his companions. "Anyway, these fellows would like to buy spells from your relative, so perhaps you could call him over, and we could go for a walk?"

Gives-Out-Shadow literally died inside. He stepped away from Brandoril, before he trottled him.

Dal wondered why his acceptance of the invitation of travelling to Riften was overlooked. He decided not to ask. Most people didn't like being associated with Orcs, he knew from experience.

"Yes!" said Wylandriah, nodding eagerly. "Bylandrioth! You have customers!"

"And of course, I would like you to accompany us to Riften, brother elf", he said to Dal, smiling. "I hope it doesn't bother you that I refer to you as being elfkind. Orsimer are indeed Mer. That others consider them to be goblin kind or worse is just insulting!"

Dal didn't know how to respond, so taken aback by the kind words. "I..uh...when..shu.....thank you," he said.

"Orcismer are in a class of their own." Gives-Out-Shadow stated. "Some people might say a worse class, some might say a better class."

Dal turned to the Argonian, "And what do you say?"

Gives-Out-Shadow nodded. "Orcismer is Orcismer, They are the same sharing life upon Nirn with the rest." He stated, with a casual shrug of his shoulders.