I gotta dig up the vampire questions at some point... But the gist of it is she thinks vampires and werewolves are no different than any other rabid beast and can't be trusted, preferably while receiving a swift decapitation.
For Marassa, again;
1. In your travelling down a lonely road on the way to Dawnstar, you come across an injured woman on the side of the road, saying she was attacked by bandits and barely escaped. She begs you to help escort her to Dawnstar where she may properly rest, and offers a thousand Septims she claims are kept in her home there. Should you accept: The walk is long, and the two of you speak sparingly. On the way, the two of you are stopped by a small, patrolling militia. A heavily-armored woman at the front speaks, her blade pointed at the both of you. “Step away from the vampire before I rip your throat out! She isn’t escaping this time!”
I was heading there, regardless, and I know too well the cruelty of bandits, as the roads are dangerous for lone women. I would offer to mend her wounds, both to ease her pain and to aid in her ability to walk. I would not trust the words of the woman threatening me; chances are, if the woman I was escorting was a vampire, she would have used her chance to attack me when we were alone, I would suspect. I would prepare to fight if need be, but see if the woman can be reasoned with and what proof she had. Too often people make false claims about vampirism, I do not see how this is different.
2. You are hired by the Count of Anvil to assist in the investigation of several kidnappings throughout the county, mainly of beggars and ne’er-do-wells, and after a time you settle upon the likely culprit: a lord by the name of Rimiir living in a lonely estate on the meadows. You may choose how you assault his estate to possibly rescue his prisoners—or perhaps simply speak with him—but either way, you discover that he has chained his victims up in his basement, where he regularly feeds them and forces them to drink the same fine wine as he. In a journal, and by the accounts of the victims (Rimiir himself is nowhere to be found), the lord had a morbid obsession with those he considered lesser and that “saving them from the cruelties of the world” was the only way to help them. A few victims insist that Rimiir was simply well-intentioned, while others claim he would beat them if they mentioned the outside world or complained about their lack of freedom. Just then, Rimiir returns, and while not openly aggressive, demands you leave him “to his holy work”. He has much power in the daily politics of Anvil and even has ties to the Emperor’s Court, and seeing as how his victims are all in the lower tiers of society, there is little hope they would even receive any justice for all the trouble of making a powerful noble your enemy should you choose to oust him.
I have no patience for cruel, oppressive piety. The Gods are cruel and uncaring by nature, and they certainly do not need agents to act as their avatars. These people deserve the liberty to decide their own fates, not suffer at the whims of a drunkard holy man. If he would not permit me to leave with his captives, his body would not be discovered until I am well away from Anvil. It is not as if I plan on returning to the city. Powerful men position themselves above the law; I take the law out of the occasion.
3. (And now a more lighthearted one.) For one reason or another, you have been invited to a Cyrodiilic ball (or managed to sneak in). While you enjoy yourself (or perhaps morosely avoid all contact with everyone), a particularly ridiculously-dressed noble approaches, accompanied by his entourage. His tone drips with exclusivity. “You know, I realize that I have had yet to speak with you until now.” He takes a sip of the gluttonously overfull goblet he carries, smiling. “But I just had to warn you of the vicious comments I’ve heard flung about over your choice of dress. Quite unfitting for a ball of this nature, don’t you agree?” He and his gaggle of nobles break into a collective chortle.
Another pompous ass. He is not worth speaking to. People who trouble themselves with fashion have never had any real concerns. Perhaps his own choice of attire would look better with a stain of red from my own wine, so I would sate that curiosity, as I also want to see him whine like the pampered child he is. I'm not from high society; I actually lived a day in my life.
Nyxella
TokyoPewPew
Tlaloc