In the dead of night, Alvor emerged from his house, the glow of the forge casting shadows across his weathered face. His brows furrowed in concern as he spotted a familiar figure approaching.

It was the Dragonborn, a friend of his nephew Hadvar. With a sigh of relief, Alvor welcomed them, his voice hushed in the stillness of the night.

"Make yourself at home," he said softly, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger. "Is there anything you need right now?"