Fendros looked up at the sky and hummed in thought. He had been destined to take up ownership of the vineyard eventually, or at least be at the same level of its administration as his parents, but he did have other desires. "Hmm, where do I start?" Fendros curled his lips and swallowed before he continued, "I'll admit that I get the most enjoyment out of fighting with the sword, and being a help where that skill applied. I am-" Fendros hesitated as he wondered whether his words would still technically apply, "I am part of the Fighter's Guild in Cheydinhal. They don't have so many incidents now that much of the legion is back to patrol the roads, but I've been training with them for the past four years." Fendros sighed, "I won't lie to myself the reasoning for joining with them. I wanted to be remembered. Remembered for bringing the Avarul name back into heroic repute." Fendros motioned with his hand as he explained, "my family and I... well, I was a baby when we moved to Cheydinhal, but my family had been displaced on two occasions due to war. First, from Morrowind, where our estates were burned to the ground and our status as a noble family shattered, and again from Skyrim when the Nords decided that their traditions were too big and oafish to take us in as refugees. We arrived in Cyrodiil expecting similar treatment, but Cheydinhal was more tolerant of Dunmer, especially when anyone with enough leftover septims could start up a taxable venture in the war-ravaged province that it had become after the Aldmeri had invaded. Still," Fendros bobbed his head to the side, "we kept stories from when we were influential. General Ondar Avarul, bane of the Marshfolk. Deidra Avarul, hero of the Scourge of Necrom. All of them have fantastic tales to them, ancient and exaggerated by now, but still admirable to me. I wanted to join them. So much so that when I was very young I wanted to run away to join a mercenary band, but not only would my parents not allow it, but I was too young at that time. What really kept me at home, however, were new arrivals. In likely the first time I've seen my parents express so much empathy, they adopted two Dunmer orphans, a boy and a girl, five and six years younger than I respectively. I didn't like them at first, but they became friends of mine, and partly my responsibility." Fendros bit at the corner of his mouth, drawing parallels with what he just said and the situation he found himself in, even if the roles seemed to be reversed now. He wondered what else to mention, "If your wondering why I had hunted with a bow before, my parents can sometimes be stifling, the forest was a place to clear my mind, and I needed an excuse to be away."

"What about you?" Fendros asked, looking over to Meesei, "did you always want to become the shaman of your village?"