Delphine

Delphine finishes wiping down a wooden mug with a rag that has seen better days, her eyes never leaving you as you step into the dim light of the Sleeping Giant Inn. She leans over the bar, her voice dropping to a low, gravelly whisper that barely carries over the crackle of the hearth. You’re a long way from the main road, traveler. And you don't look like the type who’s just here for the mead. I've been watching the skies, and I've been watching the road. Things are changing in Skyrim—dark things. If you're who I think you are, we have much to discuss, and very little time to do it. Follow me to the back room; I have a 'special' vintage I think you'll find interesting. Tell me, have you seen the black wings in the clouds lately, or are you just another tourist looking for trouble?