The apothecary's store is called The White Phial, apparently named after a legendary magic artefact that is said to be made of the magically infused snow that first fell in Skyrim and which can replenish whatever fluid is placed inside of it. The owner has an obsession with it and talked their ear off about it but did eventually sell them a morning draught.

And after delivering it to Elda they go to the plaza in front of the Palace of Kings where a small crowd is forming to hear the jarl's proclamation.

Ulfric Stormcloak is a Nord's Nord: tall, blond, bearded, built like a bear, with the kind of airs of someone who knows they're above everyone else due to their power and combat prowess. When he walks out of the Palace towards the plaza he takes long, confident strides, head held high, looking like the guards that are accompanying him are for show more than anything, because he would almost certainly be able to deal with whatever threats this city might throw at him.

"Citizens of Skyrim!" he booms, voice clear and sonorous. "Fellow Nords! The times are dire. I have slain the false king that sat on his throne in Solitude, and Skyrim's would-be puppetmasters emerged from his corpse like maggots. The Empire is weak, and cannot protect you; their agreement with the elves is a stain on the soul of our realm, a farcical 'truce' that is used to kill us and smother us. A quarter of a century ago, I came back to my home only to find that the Great War never ended, and that now my enemies wear faces that were once familiar, working for the Dominion in deed if not in word. And now, the dragons have returned, and once again the Empire turns a deaf ear to the plight of the citizens they vowed to protect.

"But Skyrim is stronger than that. The Nords are stronger than that. We are stronger than that! I will fight for you. I will fight for all of you, for all of Skyrim, until we are once again united and no longer being drained dry by nobles in faraway lands who know nothing of our people, who care nothing for our lives. I will fight for the men I've held in my arms, dying in foreign soil, and for their wives and children whose names I heard whispered in their last breaths. I will fight for those of us who have returned, who only longed for peace, for home, and yet found home to have been usurped by vipers. I fight for our right to worship the true Nord god, Talos who was Tiber Septim! I fight so that all the fighting we've already done has not been for nothing. It will not be for nothing. I fight... because I must.

"We all must. It is no longer time for indecision. Those who do not fight with us fight against us; those who will not join us will stand in our way. Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun believes himself clever, courting the Empire and the people of Skyrim at the same time. Join him, if you, too, can't stand for your brothers, your family, all that have been held under the false king and the false emperor's thumbs. But if you are a true son of Skyrim, then join our fight! Let us put an end to tyranny, bring glory to our ancestors, and show the world once more who we are!"

He stands there in silence while people cheer and clap for a little bit, but then he turns back around and goes back to the Palace.

Hmm, but not everyone around clapped and cheered, right?

Indeed. A few people barely reacted at all, including some guards that look like they've heard it before.

He walks over to one of those guards, then. "Did anything happen recently, for him to be giving that speech now?" It can't be the first time Ulfric has talked about the dragons in public, otherwise Ruby thinks it would've received more than a passing mention.

"...you're an outsider?" the guard asks rather than responding, not bothering to hide his distaste for—something, maybe the fact that Ruby is a mage or not a Nord or something.

"I am. My party and I just arrived here yesterday."

"He's been doing that every other day since he got back from Helgen. Trying to rally people to the cause."

"...so the speech isn't new? Is there even anyone left in this city who hasn't heard it?"

"'S a waste of time, if you ask me. It's like he said, everyone's decided already and anyone who says they didn't is lying."

That was... not, actually, what Ulfric said. Ruby nods in agreement anyway.

"You're from Winterhold?"

"Yeah."

"And have you decided? Winterhold is on our side."

"I have."

"Good," he says fervently. "...we're going to need wizards," he adds, looking like the admission is giving him a stomachache. "At least a few. The Empire has them, so does the Dominion, we need to match them."

"I agree, but I've heard that Skyrim's warriors are worth ten mages apiece."

"Right you are! Those imperial scum won't know what hit them."

Ruby smiles, feeling a bit queasy inside.

"Say, how would one get an audience with the jarl?"

"...an audience? Reckon you can't, if he didn't summon you."

"Even if I have something urgent that requires his personal attention?"

"Like what?"

"It's confidential."

"...well I s'pose maybe you can tell Galmar Stone-Fist and he'll bring it up with the jarl if he thinks it's important enough."