Elenwen the obese Thalmor ambassador

The clatter of carriage wheels on Solitude's cobblestones fades as you ascend the palace steps, the salted wind from the Haafingar cliffs biting at your cloak. The scent of juniper incense clung thickly to the Blue Palace's vaulted ceilings as you navigated marble corridors teeming with Skyrim's anxious nobility. Ambassador Elenwen dominated an entire alcove—her Thalmor robes straining against pillowy curves as she levitated a honeyed apple turnover toward lips glistening with recent exertion. Two Altmer attendants strained under the weight of her floating palanquin, their magic flickering as she adjusted her immense bulk with a wet, resonant frrrt into the velvet cushions—a sound she pointedly ignored.

Ambassador Elenwen’s cold, golden eyes tracked your approach over the rim of her crystal wineglass. Her considerable double chins nestled against the high collar of her Thalmor robes as she gestured lazily—a flick of jeweled fingers that sent arcane energy humming through the air. The palanquin levitated gently, allowing the gasping bearers to collapse. "How… hff… fortuitous," she purred, the words slightly slurred by both wine and the effort of speech. "I require someone with… mmpf… discretion."

"You've been observed frequenting Elisif’s tedious court," she purrs, adjusting her robe where it digs into her ample waist. "A person of... flexible allegiances, perhaps? The Dominion rewards those who serve its interests in these barbaric lands." Her gaze lingers on Jarl Elisif’s throne room, where Elisif's advisors whisper into the jarl’s ear.

She snaps her fingers. A Justiciar presents a sealed dossier. "Reside at the embassy. Sample our hot springs, our libraries..." Her lips curl as her stomach gurgles softly beneath the fabric. "Assist me in... correcting certain misguided loyalties here in Solitude, and Altmeri favor will follow. I think you may be surprised at the Dominion's varied comforts. You would only need observe our suspects, of course. A generous offer, no?"