In immediate contrast to Rossarm, Meesei was giving a grin and a quick chuckle towards the Commander. "I think you personally would benefit from such a challenge, Teroiah. A new opponent with new strategies, new magic to observe in practice...I would take that opportunity in a heartbeat. And I have to admit that I am eager to see how you are able to improve when properly motivated." She remarked, allowing some of her own, more selfish desires to show through. There was a substantial part of her that wanted to see and learn from any unique forms of magic that Rossarm might have at his command. If Teroiah would not take the challenge, Meesei herself would certainly be willing.

Despite Meesei becoming somewhat distracted, Saras remained quite serious, and characteristically on-topic. He was no longer staring so intently at Rossarm, having evidently come to a conclusion on whatever he had been thinking on. "I would advise against entirely dismissing the idea of working with lycan troops. It may yet be the best fit for you. Since our clans began organizing more closely as a result of the war, former military officers have risen through the ranks in many clans, and many of our people now have training as 'professional' soldiers. They are merely more accustomed to changes in leadership. But, more to my point, I do have an idea of who you might work with. Try as I might, I cannot quite remember you. I too was in Mournhold at the time of the fabricant attack, but I was still injured and recovering from an incident a few days prior. I doubt we ever met. But, there is one other who comes to mind. I happen to know that the man who oversees training in one of our central Morrowind clans was once a High Ordinator in Mournhold, at the same time that you served the city by your description. Is Varalyn Madral a name you remember?"

[hr]

Julan looked away from Janius, holding one arm over the other. The pessimistic thoughts that accosted his mind made him feel almost sick to his stomach, and there was a hesitation in his voice that betrayed his anxiety when he did speak. "I know...you [i]have[/i] to fight. I know there isn't a...choice."

Julan swallowed after becoming briefly unable to speak. When he finally did make eye contact once more, there were tears streaming down the side of his face. He was shaking, and his gaze itself practically screamed out with a genuine terror. "What if you aren't tough enough? What if they kill you? What if they kill mother? What if they kill all of you, and then I'm alone? What do I do?"