[color=8B8970][center][h3]Adamiir Thiich - Kvatch Chapel - Pondering[/h3][/center][/color]
As a rule, Adamiir liked to avoid any location that seemed particularly shifty. He and Morinus once passed through a town called Hackdirt, and since then Adamiir had given the place a wide berth on all future travels. This was a [i]rule[/i], one that he followed religiously. The problem then, with Kvatch, was that on no occasion did Adamiir even entertain the idea that the city might be anything more than just that; a city. What the Breton did not then understand, was why Mehrunes Dagon himself decided that parking the front door to his personal realm of hell in front of the city gates was a good idea. Not that the event didn’t intrigue Adamiir, quite the opposite in fact. The opening of a stable gate to any realm of Oblivion of that size was thought to be an impossibility. Being on the receiving end of an invasion of merciless daedra was proving to be a most exciting venture.

The experience was not without its drawbacks, however.

The end result of this misadventure was very clear to him. He, and everyone else in this godsforsaken chapel were going to wind up with their heads on pikes, or as scraps for the scampy’s perhaps. One thing was certain, however. They were all… [b][color=8B8970]“...going to die.”[/color][/b] Adamiir’s voice rang out across the room, piercing the uncomfortable silence that until this point consisted mostly of murmured prayers and muted sobs. He paused for a moment, smiling warmly at anyone attempting to make eye contact with him, before taking long strides over to the other side of the chapel. The people over here were further away, and he would have appeared quieter to them, ergo, anyone here would be less likely to dislike him should he make an attempt at conversation. The most likely looking individual was a Bosmer talking to a small bird perched on her shoulder, a magpie if Adamiir was not mistaken. How delightful! He once had a vivid dream that he himself was a vulture, and had since then held a great respect for most if not all avian creatures. 

The Bosmer girl began to feed her little friend, and Adamiir shuddered once with excitement, gripping at his pendant momentarily. He approached her carefully, being certain that he didn’t accidentally mimic any motions typically associated with any of the magpie’s known predators. [color=8B8970][b]“Greetings, Bosmer, friend of birds-”[/b][/color] He paused, and his eyes found purchase looking into her’s, molten yellow globes in stark comparison to his muted grey. [color=8B8970][b]“I…”[/b][/color] Adamiir’s voice trailed off again as he studied the multitude of scars marring her otherwise pretty face. Finding his voice once more, Adamiir began to speak. [b][color=8B8970]“You have seen battle. That is a good thing. It seems unlikely that the… uninitiated will see tomorrow without the help of those with experience. Or… you have not seen battle. And you were the victim of a horrendous attack in years past. In that case, you have my condolences, as your chances of survival just dropped significantly.”[/color][/b]

Adamiir peered at her, waiting to see if she felt as optimistic about this encounter as he did. [color=8B8970][b]“However,”[/b][/color] He began, taking in a breath. [color=8B8970][b]“If the latter is the case, I will do my utmost to see to it that both you and your feathered ally escape this city unharmed.”[/b][/color] He smiled at her, as though she were an old friend coming to visit for the first time in months, showing off near immaculate teeth. [color=8B8970][b]“You will be pleased to know that this raises your chances of survival by a small margin!” [/b][/color]