Tsleeixth woke up with a groan as sunlight filtered into the room, the rays of sunlight falling directly into his face. Rubbing his face slightly he propped himself up in the bed “That Hist-damned dream.” Said the Argonian -a hint of resignation in his voice- as he let out a weary sigh as the images of the dream that had haunted his sleep ever since their escape from Windhelm played on his mind. The dream was eerily similar to those that Tsleeixth had had before the Argonian Riots, a bunch of Kamal troops invading Black Marsh, but now, just like during that fateful day at Anga’s Mill, he started to run away from the Akaviri invaders and yet, this time, he could see the faces of those who had died during the escape from the besieged city. 

He felt a shiver run through his spine as he remembered more of the dream, how the corpses grasped for his ankles, trying to bring him down, or screamed at him for having abandoned them to the demons. The Argonian spellsword shook his head, slapping himself to shake off what remained of the dream from his mind. He felt a scowl settling in on his face, his healthy hand clenching into a fist “Gotta stay calm, don’t let the nightmares get to your head Tsleeixth.” He said to himself before breathing deeply in an effort to calm himself down. Part of him knew that it was normal that he had such dreams, being fully aware of survivor’s guilt, yet it still surprised him how much it was affecting him. “[i]Maybe if I hadn’t ran away….or if I had tried to help someone….[/i]” Thought the Argonian spellsword for a brief moment before reality settled in once more. If he hadn’t run, he’d be dead and would be lying in Anga’s Mill with the rest of those who had been butchered by the Kamal “[i]At the very least, I can help avenge those who died.[/i]” Thought Tsleeixth darkly, his thoughts briefly turning to the Nord man who had saved his life at the first battle in the docks and to Utu-Ja as well, who had died while being swarmed by the demons from Akavir during their escape. 

Deciding to not focus on the matter of his dreams, Tsleeixth began to get ready for the day ahead. He took off the brace that he had been wearing pretty much non-stop since the first battle at the docks of Windhelm, rolling the shoulder of his recently-broken arm to try and ward off any stiffness after such a long period of time with almost no movement  “Good thing I managed to get the town healer to help me with this.” Said the Argonian, his lips curling upwards in a smile as he flexed the healed arm for a bit. Quickly getting ready, he soon went to the first floor of the inn.  

He scanned the room, noticing the presence of familiar faces such as that of Do’Karth, Sevine, Sagax, Jorwen, Keegan and Roze. He felt relief at seeing them there, the familiar presence of those individuals brought forth a sense of tranquility, along with a slight pang of guilt at not having checked on them once they had arrived at Dawnstar, and of relief at the fact that they had survived. Sitting in quietly in one of the tables, he began to quietly eat his breakfast when he heard Ashav telling them to gather around.   


He stopped eating and moved so that he was slightly closer to Ashav, so as to better hear the man as he spoke. He was a bit startled when the Cat-Kicker shouted at someone for eating, but Ashav’s dismissal of the fact drew the curiosity of the Saxhleel spellsword “[i]Something’s changed.[/i]” He thought quietly, turning his full attention to the Redguard when he began to speak. He listened as the mercenary commander said that the last few weeks had been trying for all of them and felt his thoughts turning towards that time when Ashav’s next words brought him back to the present. 

He turned to look around those gathered around the Redguard commander, surprised when no one moved away from the table. Whereas it was due to a sense of camaraderie or other concerns, to Tsleeixth it seemed that the group had become something more than a simple company of mercenaries. However, the Argonian didn’t have time to ponder on this idea for, as soon as he heard Ashav mention where their next assignment was to take place; Winterhold. Tsleeixth’s eyes widened in surprise “Winterhold….by the Hist, what could have happened…” He whispered to himself, feeling a shiver run down his spine as Ashav continued to speak. He shivered visibly when it was said that -apparently- the town surrounding the College was completely gone, yet the Argonian felt a small amount of relief at the fact that the COllege itself still remained. 

As Ashav continued, he only paid the minimum amount of attention to the Redguard. He had spent 4 years living in WInterhold and during that time he had met many people, and made many friends,  and as such his thoughts inevitably went to those persons and wondering wherever or not they were still alive. Trying to calm himself down, he reached for a mug full of mead and downed the content in one long gulp “Ashav, do we have any news if there are any survivors from the town itself?” He asked, a hint of worry in his voice.