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3 yrs ago
Current Sometimes I wonder whether or not my trust is misplaced or not, especially when it seems that the trust I place in some people isn't reciprocated.
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4 yrs ago
All that is gold does not glitter; not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither; deep roots are not reached by the frost.
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4 yrs ago
Currently in exam periods at University after a full month of mobilization and a constant strike Things arent looking well so ill either be busy trying to save the semester or not because its lost
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4 yrs ago
I should re-read the Lord of the Rings one of these days
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4 yrs ago
Is it wierd that, whenever I am stressed I want to RP? I don't know, helps keep my mind off of certain things. Don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
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Bruma, Cyrodiil
20th of First Seed, 4E213

Tsleeixth woke before the first rays of the sun broke through the window of his inn room. It was a habit born of many years of hardship, and the hard work that had taken to live through them; after all, every hour wasted meant less time in the day and time was a precious commodity that Tsleeixth had learned form a young age to appreciate to its full extent. Stifling a yawn, the Argonian made his way to the windows and threw them open fully.

As the cold air of Bruma greeted him, Tsleeixth allowed himself a brief smile. It reminded him, in a way, of Skyrim and, for a brief moment, that thought brought a pang of nostalgia in his chest for the land of the Nords that he had left behind, the land that had been his home for so many years. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he turned his back to the window and headed for his belongings left at the foot of his bed and began to get prepared for the day; first were his clothes and then his armour and, once that was done, he checked to see how his finances were doing, frowning to himself when he realized that they were getting low. "Sithis damnit, I guess that if I tighten my belt a little bet and am more frugal with my meals I could afford another night in this room if this guild thing doesn't pan out..." Tsleeixth muttered to himself as he looked at the meager amount of septims in his coin-pouch.

Slinging his rucksack over his shoulders, he made his way down to the common room of the inn, where he asked for a simple slice of bread and some water to quench his hunger and thirst respectively. As he ate his breakfast, Tsleeixth thought on what would be his next course of action if his application into the new guild was rejected. He supposed that he could try and attempt to join the Fighters Guild or, if that failed, he could try and join either the Synod or the College of Whispers. “Bah, no sense worrying about it now.” The Argonian muttered to himself as he finished his breakfast and stood up from his table, making his way out of the inn. After all, there was no sense in worrying what might come to happen when the present was still unfolding.

“Trust that the currents of the river will lead you safely…” Tsleeixth muttered to himself, repeating a saying that his parents used to tell him while he was growing in Riften. Still, despite the familiar saying that usually brought him comfort, the Argonian’s mood did not improve as he made his way towards the bulletin board where he knew the results had been posted, ruminating on what not being accepted to the guild could mean for him. That is, until a peculiar figure caught his attention, a Saxhleel like him; the colour of his scales that of dried blood, a stark contrast to his own which were of a black colour, who was heading in the same direction that he did.

Brother!” Tsleeixth called, hoping that his Jel wasn’t as rusty as he thought it was. “I wasn’t expecting to see one of our kind here, are you trying to join this new guild as well?” Tsleeixth asked as he approached the other Argonian.

@Bloodrose So, on the topic of space magic, and sorry if I've been a bit silent on my end, I should mention that Idolitrex Magi are, usually, a branch of Hereteks who dabble into psychic powers/sorcery on top of their expertise with machinery and, well, daemon engines (since, y'know, Dark Mechanicus and whatnot). I hope that is ok? If not, I can retool my character or go for something a tad different.
@Bloodrose So, I'm thinking of joining this game and, I was wondering, would it be ok if I made an Idolitrex Magi? Or, well, something similar at the very least.
At the Table


Evening, 17th Sun’s Height
Falkreath





It had not been too long since the raucous crowds had died down outside, and with a spring in her step, Ivy made her way towards the tavern, for some warmth and hopefully a drink of some sorts. She’d left Calen somewhere, with dreams in his heart and a song on his lips to wind him off to a restful sleep - and yet she still felt so very alive and awake.

She seemed to bounce through, patrons of the room offering her nods and smiles. For what it was worth, any usual racial tensions between Nords and Dunmer did not apply to her - not to their own personal harlequin, ready at all times to deliver joy to weary souls. She’d been sure to cover herself. In one of her favourite woolen throws that she wore like a shawl. It looked as soft as a cloud in it’s rich teal hue, draped around her figure and tucked into a belt made of coins.

“Good one tonight Eva, you were reaaaaal’gud,” slurred a swaying gentleman in her direction, grabbing at her arm to stop her so he could speak to her one on one. She wasn’t quite fond of being grasped at, but it brought no anger to her - instead she simply chuckled at him and scratched the underside of his chin - his beard prickly.

“Oh my darling Sven, as much as I’d love to hear you compliment me all night - I have places to be and people to see…” she trilled with enthusiasm. With her hand in his, she raised it above her head and spun underneath it - much to his delight.

“Alri’ then, alri,” he responded happily - clearly enthralled at her whirling, as his eyes continued to spin in their sockets long after she’d stopped. The coins around her waist jangled as she swayed away. From the corner of her eyes, she spotted a presence - an Argonian. One of the new arrivals too, she hadn’t seen his face and she never forgot a face. That alone was enough to sway her from simply approaching the bar herself. Instead, she carried herself with a layer of excitement to his table.

Ivy found that as she drew nearer to him, his energy was different to the other patrons. Easy to miss a sullen ember in a fire of joy - but hard to ignore once you knew it was there. She slowed her steps, and approached more carefully, quietly, appearing at his side. “Is this seat taken?” she asked in a kindly voice, her palm reaching out to the back of the very obviously, empty chair.

Jaraleet was about to reply when he raised to his head to see the newcomer that was talking to him. His words immediately died in his throat when he noticed that who was talking to him was a Dunmer and, for a split second, red filled his vision. He forced himself to take a deep breath, to anchor himself to the present; he was no longer in Argonia, he was in Skyrim, and not every Dunmer that he’d run into would be an enemy.

“It isn’t.” He finally replied, unable to keep some of the hostility that had filled his mind from leaking into his tone of voice. “You might take it if you wish. It is all the same to me.” Jaraleet said, motioning for one of the servers to bring him another drink. It wouldn’t be wise for him to start a commotion in the middle of the tavern and, hopefully, a strong drink would help him keep his emotions under control.

Ivy was used to that. The poison of prejudice against who she was, although it always felt… Understandable when the poison came from an Argonian. “If you’d rather be alone, of course I understand.” She commented, pushing the chair back under the table, the legs groaning against the floor. “Been a bit curious about you and your friends, is all.” She gave him a smile before placing a hand on the table to lean on. “I’m Ivy, by the way-” giving a name always made things more personal, made it harder for people to paint you with the brush of their choosing. “What’s yours?”

Jaraleet nodded his thanks when the Dunmer woman mentioned that she understood if he’d rather be alone. However, when she mentioned that she had been curious about him and the others in the group, the assassin felt himself tensing almost immediately. “Makes sense, after all, we are the newcomers here, can’t blame you for being curious, or even suspicious.” He replied, keeping his tone of voice neutral.

He looked at the woman as she placed her hands on the table to lean on it. “Jaraleet, my name is Jaraleet.” He finally said, motioning to the empty chair with one hand. “As I said before, the chair is free, so if you feel inclined to seat, you might do so.” The Argonian finished as the server he had called brought him his drink which, much to his surprise, turned out to be ale from his homeland, causing a small smile to draw itself on the Argonian’s face as he took a sip of the all-too familiar ale.

“Oh,” Ivy cooed, pulling the seat back out and slinking down into it, elbows on the table. “I’m never suspicious, only curious.” Her red eyes sparkled as she observed the gentleman and his drink. He was defensive about something. “You have journeyed with your companions for some time?” she asked, her head tilting to the side. “You all seem to have had quite an adventure to find yourselves here. Maybe this is a nice reprieve from troubles…”

Jaraleet shook his head when Ivy mentioned that she was never suspicious, only curious. “I suppose we are opposites in that regard, then.” Was all he said as he took another sip of his drink as he contemplated on whether or not to answer her question. “Yes, we’ve been travelling together for quite some time. I wouldn’t say that I’m friends, or even close, with everyone but…” He paused as he searched for the right word, taking another drink of his ale. “But there are people who are dear to me in the group. Very dear, as a matter of fact.” Jaraleet finished, turning his focus towards Ivy.

He chuckled darkly when she said that it seemed like they had had quite the adventure, that Falkreath was perhaps a reprieve from their troubles. “The last time things seemed to be going that way, we ended in worse trouble than before. I’m not letting my guard down again, no offense to the people of Falkreath.”

"It hasn't been easy then?" Ivy asked, shifting in her seat to face him. "I mean most journeys in war are difficult… But you've had each other, that must have made the troubles less trouble to deal with?" She blinked several times in Jaraleet's direction, head tilting to the other side, like the motion of an inquisitive animal. This man was going to be hard to crack…

Jaraleet was silent for a moment as he thought on Ivy’s words, about how having each other must have made the troubles easier to deal with. He couldn't help but feel bitter as he remembered what Gregor’s action had set in motion, about the heartache that the discussion with Meg on the Alik’r desert had caused him. “Sometimes yes, sometimes no.” He finally answered, emptying the last of his ale and ordering another drink. “You must have travelled yourself a fair bit, I'm sure you understand the meaning of my words.”

She grinned at him, "oh yes - I've travelled the world a few times over by now… I think I understand." She could sense his bitterness, it couldn't easily be concealed by him. It was interesting to think about how his experience had been different to Calen's and to Meg's. "Your bard friend is a delight! I'm afraid actually that he is the only gentleman I have really spent time with from your party. But I wish to talk to everyone in time." She sighed, hoping that might help him to open up. "Are you close with Calen?"

Jaraleet shrugged, looking at Ivy in the eyes. “No, not really, I have only spoken to him only once and we didn’t exactly see eye to eye that one time we talked. Ever since then we haven’t spoken.” The Argonian said simply, drumming his fingers on the table. “So, no, I can’t say we are close. He is, or was I suppose, close to Gregor. I don’t know, I usually keep to myself most of the time.”

"Well," she began with a resigned sigh, "we can't always see eyes to eyes with everyone," Ivy shrugged. She'd had many an experience with that, her views and ways were not exactly sitting on the side of normal. "So, well, who are you close to? It feels almost as though your group has divides!"

“That is a fair assessment, we aren’t exactly very cohesive at our best. Much less at our worst.” Jaraleet said in response to Ivy’s comment that their group seemed to have divides.The Argonian paused for a second as he pondered whether or not to answer honestly to the Dunmer’s question about who he was close to before deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to be honest this time. “Gregor, Meg, Sevari, and Finnen, though the last one is missing from our group.” He said with a slight frown. “Also Raelynn, though she too has left our group.” He paused for a second, his thoughts briefly wandering over to the Breton healer who had been one of the first people he had met after leaving Argonia and with whom he had made a connection. “Wherever she is, I’m sure she is safe. She is strong, I’m sure that she’ll be fine, but I do hope that I can meet her again soon.” Jaraleet said, a note of concern in his voice.

"Well that's a handful of good friends!" Ivy chuckled, holding up a hand with splayed fingers, wiggling each one as if they all represented the named friends. "And they're all really lucky to have you too. I'm sensing that you're a protective kind of friend, that you'd stand in the line of fire for any one of those. Am I right?"

“They are, aren’t they?” Jaraleet said, his tone soft and fond, a smile drawing on his lips as he thought of the friends that he had made on the journey that he had stepped on ever since Skingrad. He nodded when Ivy mentioned that he was a protective friend, smiling again though the gesture didn’t reach his eyes like it had done before. “I’d give my life if it meant that they’d be safe.” The Argonian said, his voice somber but full of conviction.

"That's very beautiful, Jaraleet." The Dunmer brought her elbows to the table and laced her fingers together, leaning closer to Jaraleet. Her red eyes flashed with something mysterious as she placed her chin on her knuckles. "Hmmmm, have you told that to them? Expressed yourself, I mean?" Her eyebrow quirked as she ran her words over his bitterness, finding her way upon something he was sensitive about.

Instinctively, Jaraleet backed up as Ivy leaned closer to him; he wasn’t used to that, to people approaching him physically upon their first meeting. Once that was done, he paused for a second and pondered the question that the Dunmer had presented to him. As he thought about the question, the ale that he had ordered was placed on the table and, without thinking, the Argonian paid for the liquor, taking a sip of the alcohol before he replied. “I….I haven’t, I am not the most expressive person, truth be told.” He finally admitted, letting out a sigh.

“Well, expression and vulnerability is simply a muscle that needs to be used and worked at in order to strengthen,” Ivy offered with a smile, noticing his backing away. She did the same, leaning back comfortably into her chair. He did not like being crowded, and so she opened herself. One leg slipped over the other, and an arm hung over the back of the chair. “You can always try with small steps of expression - even if it hurts, it also heals given enough time.” It seemed to Ivy like even his admission was a bigger step than he would have been comfortable admitting to a stranger. Her ears twitched slightly and she smiled more. “What would you say to your friends right now if they were all here?”

Jaraleet was silent for a moment, pondering the question. What would he tell his friends if they were all here? His thoughts drifted through everyone he had met during his travels….and further past them, back to his fellow trainees, to the brother who had given his life for him. And then, his thoughts returned to the present, to Finnen and Sevari. He took a long drink from his mug and when he looked at Ivy there was no mirth in his eyes, only a grim certainty shone in the Argonian’s eyes.

“I do not know.” He finally answered, finishing his drink and standing up from his seat. “But there is something that I must do now, farewell.” Jaraleet said as he stepped towards the door that led outside. He had to find Sevari, it had been too long since he had last talked to the Khajiit and there were important matters that they had to discuss about a certain Reachman.

A chill slithered down the Dunmer’s spine. Her lips tugged to the side. Jaraleet was the darkness she had felt earlier that evening.

She hoped that somewhere on his path, a flicker of light would touch him.
I'd be down for this, especially sicne I'm getting back into the roll of RP'ing again after a brief hiatus. So, count me in chief, probably gonna play a Tech Priest again if that's a'ight.
Life’s a River

By Morty & Greenie



17th of Midyear, late night after the feast, Falkreath

A storm of thoughts raged within Jaraleet’s mind as he pushed open the door that lead into the tavern open. He had seen Meg going into the building and, without thinking, he had made his way towards the building; he'd be lying if he said that he hadn't worried when she disappeared for two days along with Zaveed, not that he didn't trust the Khajiit or Meg’s abilities to come out of whatever trouble the pair had run into but the worry still had been there in his mind. There was also the issue of Finnen’s disappearance and the promise that he had made to the former Forsworn, topics which he didn't know how to approach with the Nord girl but which he knew that she deserved to know about.

The warm interior of the tavern was a welcome respite from Skyrim’s cold climate, something that the Argonian still hadn't grown used to, and he took a moment to bask in the warmth of the building before he spotted Meg sitting alone at a table. Making a beeline towards there, he stood somewhat awkwardly as he looked at the Nord. “Hey…” He started, his eyes drifting to an empty chair in front of her “Do you...mind if I join you? I wanted to check in on you, see how you were doing.”

Meg had been nursing another tankard of mead once she had finished conversing with Judena and the khajiit called Do'Karth. It had been a nice feeling, meeting an old friend, getting to meet a new one, and just being happy knowing things were moving towards something positive for once. In Skyrim it felt as if they were actually winning.

She looked up in surprise at hearing the familiar voice, not having expecting the Argonian to come over after nearly a month of silence. "I s'pose so," she replied, nodding slowly in a perplexed manner as she stretched out with her leg and pushed the chair away from the table so that he could sit. "Been a while, eh? How're y'doin'?" She set the tankard down and attempted to lift an eyebrow, something she'd seen Sirine often do.

Jaraleet winced inwardly at the surprise with which Meg had looked him when he appeared. “I….know it's been a while, I'm sorry…” He started lamely, trying to offer an explanation to her. “I was...trying to sort out...well, my feelings. Sorry for not talking to you…” He chuckled awkwardly, sitting down in front of her and signaling someone to bring him a drink. “Truth be told, I wasn't sure if...if you'd want to talk to me, not after the last time we talked…” Jaraleet admitted, letting out a sigh. “But I was worried about you, about how you were doing after being gone. I knew you'd be ok but, well, friends care for friends, no? I recall you mentioning something along those lines to me back at Gilane.” He said, trying to smile at Meg.

That brought out a chuckle from Meg, and she nodded as she brought the tankard to her lips, drinking in the sweet, tasty mead. "Yeah, they do," she agreed with a nod. Her brow furrowed slightly as she thought to Gilane and how it almost seemed like a lifetime ago. Since then she felt as if she had changed so much. Travelling through the desert, through the mountains, escaping the dwemer with Zaveed- it felt as if months or years had taken place, even if it were just some days or weeks.

"I'm doin' fine," she added after a moment. "Bein' back home has been good for me, even if I got caught by those bastards. I wasn' alone though, so that helped." She paused in her words, looking over Jaraleet. The last time she had seen him was when they'd gone to collect supplies from Raelynn- he had been so curt then and it had saddened her. What had he been thinking of since their last conversation in the desert? Had he been mulling over that since then? Had he talked to anyone about it, like she had? "How're you doin'? Have you had anythin' t'drink? Eat?"

“That's good, that's good.” Jaraleet said, relieved by Meg’s words. “I knew you'd be ok but, well, couldn't help but worry.” He said, chuckling softly. A barmaid came between Meg’s questions and he ordered a drink for himself before he turned to look at Meg once again.

“How I am doing?” He repeated the words, chuckling softly and shaking his head. “Don't think anyone has ever asked me that, not that I remember at least.” He said, pausing for a second to think. “I...I don't know truth be told. I am worried for Finnen, but I'm not sure about anything else to be honest.” He admitted, looking down at the table.

"Worried 'a'bout Finnen?" Meg couldn't help but look confused, because she was. She had noticed he wasn't about, but she hadn't asked why, being swept away into the crowd, and later by Ivy to star in Calen's tale. She sorely wished to talk to Sevari as well, but at least he knew that she and Zaveed were alive and well. "What happened to him? An' whatchu mean, 'bout anythin' else?" She had an idea of what he might've meant, but her buzzed mind couldn't be sure.

“He….ran away from the group. I don't know the full details, but it must have been something bad.” The Argonian said with a frown, shaking his head slightly. “Like I said, I'm worried about him. He...made me promise something to him and I'm worried he might have put me in a situation where I might have to keep said promise.” He said with a sigh as his drink was delivered to him.

He took a swig of the tankard before he looked to Meg. “I mean my life, myself. I’m….not sure what will be of me…”

Megana couldn't help but frown. Something happened to Finnen? He ran away? Purposefully? What in Oblivion could have caused that? She had seen Sora but hadn't been able to talk to her yet. Bringing a hand to her forehead, she rubbed hard, trying to focus so that she could understand what was being said. "Yer bein' vague," she muttered after a moment. "I don' get what y'mean, but I'mma talk t'Sora tomorrow. But if y'did make a promise, y'should try an' keep it."

She paused to take a gulp of her mead, holding on to the tankard as she looked over it, green eyes contemplating the Argonian. A soft sigh expelled from her mouth as she decided to come out and speak boldy. "When y'mean sortin' out yer feelin's, is it 'be'cause I couldn' return yours when ya told me y'loved me that night?"

“I'm sorry for being vague but….well, I don't know much more myself. All I know is that Finnen right away and, unlike you, I'm not good friends with Sora so I can't ask her what happened.” The Argonian said, shaking his head slightly. “Trust me, this is a promise you don't want me to keep. I don't want to keep it.” He said, frowning slightly and taking another sip of his drink.

“Yes and no.” Jaraleet replied to Meg’s question, looking at her directly in the eyes. “It...hurt, yes, I can't deny that.” He began, taking another sip from his drink. “But it's not just that. I've...changed, for the better or worse I don't know but I've changed, that's undeniable.” The Argonian spoke, closing his eyes for a second and drumming his fingers on the table. “Plus...I've been gone for so long, with no reports, for all I know I'm on a death list right now…”

Meg wasn't quite sure what he meant by the promise, but if what he was saying was true, then she wasn't going to push him about it, seeing that it already had him upset. She looked away for a moment, eyeing her drink as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. She felt bad... she had never wanted to hurt him, but she could see now that saying she felt the same would have been wrong not just for her, but for him as well. What he needed wasn't a relationship... but a friend. Goodness knew the man needed a few. She had latched on in her own loneliness, and that hadn't been quite fair on her part.

"I'm sorry I hurt ya," she replied quietly. "Never wanted t'do tha'. No matter wha', you're still m'friend, an' hurtin' a friend ain' right. I hope y'can forgive me for that." Letting out a soft breath, she continued onward. "Y'have changed, we all've. Ain' normal if we all stayed the same after all the shit we've been through. But Jaraleet- even if yer on a death list... so wha'? Does tha' mean yer gonna die? No. Y'got friends now, ain' like we're gonna let that happen. Lookit Sevari, lookit Zaveed- I'm bettin' both got loadsa people who wanna kill 'em but... they ain' dead. They're alive, they're with us.

"Look." She reached out and put a hand on his arm, squeezing it. "Be who you wanna be. Not what others want."

“It’s ok Meg.” The Argonian replied quietly, shaking his head slightly. “I was never mad at you, or anything, I was just….hurt, lost, but that’s in the past right now.” He said, placing one hand over hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m not sayign that I’m gonna drop dead this instant, no. But, well, my life will probably be at risk, much like how Sevari’s and Zaveed’s life are at constant risk though I suppose that’s a given when you take our current situation into account.” He said, chuckling softly before he took another swig of his drink. “It also probably means I’ll never get to go back to Argonia…” He muttered, looking down at the table.

He let out a sigh when she told him to be who he wanted to be. “It’s good advice, it truly is.” He said, looking at her in the eyes once more. “But it’s a difficult one to put into practice, at least for me it is.” He continued on, closing his eyes. “I’ve lived my whole life dedicated to a singular purpose. There’s….there’s always been a clear, defined, goal that I’ve been chasing and now, I feel as if I’m adrift in a river.”

"Maybe y'gotta let the river take y'where it wants t'take ya," Meg replied after a small moment, giving the Argonian a small smile. "Y'know, I heard once from a bard that life's a river, y'don' know where it's gonna take ya, which way it's gonna turn, y'can't control it. But yerself? Y'can control that, y'can choose what y'wanna do, who y'wanna be. So like... let the river take ya where it does. Long as y'know who you are, it doesn' matter."

Jaraleet smiled at Meg’s words, his mood brightening slightly. “You are right, you are right, thank you Meg.” He said after a second. “Though, are you sure that bard didn’t take that particular piece of wisdom from Argonian culture.” Jaraleet spoke, chuckling softly. “We do tend to consider life like a river, after all.”

"Well then, shouldn' you be the one tellin' me tha'?" Meg asked, a little cheekiness in her voice, though it was stifled with a slight yawn. "Y'really should... lighten up a bit more, y'know? Try t'have some fun. Tonight was fun, made all the pain an' all the hurt feel like... t'was worth it."

Jaraleet laughed at Meg’s words, shaking his head slightly. “Hmmm, maybe next time, maybe next time.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Hmm, I’ll take it under consideration. Though, I do think people would get mad at me if I tried to get drunk. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly a lightweight...probably wouldn’t leave too many drinks for the others if I went all out one night.”

Meg shook her head but decided to leave that be. To her it just seemed as if there was an invisible wall that kept him from loosening up and opening completely, but if that was the case, there was nothing she could do about it. It was his choice after all, and she didn't have the right to force him to do or be what she might feel was right.

"Well, 'least make sure y'eat somethin'," she said after draining her own drink, leaving only dregs behind in the tankard. "M'self, I'mma need some sleep. Been really tirin' couple o' days."

“That is probably a good idea, yes. It's been rather exhausting as of late.” The Argonian agreed. “You sure you don't need any help to get to your room? You seem rather tipsy to say the least.” He asked her, his tone light, as he let out a chuckle.

"I'mma sleep in one of the tents," Meg replied as she carefully stood up. She was her lone self, she didn't want to take up room that could be used for people who needed more space. "Don' worry, I should be fine. Ain' tha' tipsy." She smirked. "Don' think much's gonna worry me after escapin' with Zaveed from that dwemer camp." Reaching up to fix her scarf around her neck, she then looked to Jaraleet. "See y'tomorrow then, eh? Don' be a stranger." She didn't want the next time they chatted to be because something traumatic happened.

“I’d say to watch out for the cold but, given that you are a native from here, this is probably like a summer breeze to you, eh?” The Argonian said with a light chuckle before nodding when she mentioned that she wasn’t that tipsy. “I’ll see you around then and, Meg, I won’t. I promise.” He said softly, reaching to gently grasp her wrist before she left. “One last thing, I am ok, truly, I am but, well, I’ll try and relax more I’m….just not all that good at it.” He admitted sheepishly, letting out an awkward chuckle. “Also, that scarf looks good on you.” He added as he let go of her wrist, “Have a good night Meg.”

“Y’can thank Sora for gettin’ it for me, then.” Meg patted the scarf affectionately before sending a nod in the Argonian’s direction. “You too, sleep well, Jaraleet.” With that said, she turned around and made her way to the door, thankfully not swaying too much.
@Lady Selune I was wondering how that was gonna be handled since, well, the DA lore mentions that Forgemasters in general aren't admitted into the Inner Circle but, well, not much that can be done if they were there to witness Luther's betrayal, eh? I'm probably gonna throw in my lot with the Forgemaster if that's ok then.
Interested in this for sure! I do have one question, since this is kinda the start of the chapter, I'd take it our marines would probably be veterans of the Heresy? Either that or joined the Legion near, or shortly after, its end.

but I finally got a post up
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