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Dear Mr Curly,
I have done little travelling lately because I have been so dreadfully weary. Can it be true as the old Ecclesiastes said; that all things lead to weariness? Surely not. Perhaps the opposite is true: that all nothings lead to weariness. I have a peculiar feeling, Curly, that I am worn out from something I haven't yet done and the more I don't do it, the more exhausted I become. How strange. Could it be something I haven't realised? Perhaps it's something I haven't said? Something I haven't finished! It must be very large and true whatever it is and a lively struggle in the doing but I look forward to it immensely. I know I need it. First, however, I must curl up in my chair and sleep deeply with the duck. Perhaps I'll dream of this thing and wake up refreshed and do it. My fond wishes to you Mr. Curly, and to all Curly Flat.
Yours sleepily,
Vasco Pyjama
P.S. Not having breakfast can make you weary. That's for sure!
Michael Leunig. The Curly Pyjama Letters.

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Fendros stared at the footprints as Saras spoke, nodding along with a growing lament pressing his lips together.

When attention turned to her again, Sabine looked up at Saras and Fendros and then stood up straight again. She paused to think, resting a finger on her chin. "Maybe. It will depend how long since the magic was cast. And more powerful magic can make traces noisy."

"Short of interviewing witnesses," Fendros said, "of which I assume there were few if any, it is the best lead we have. If time is of the essence, we should follow it." He tilted his head. "Do you need anything to prepare, Sabine?"

Sabine shook her head softly. "Not unless we want to try and know what the spell was, exactly."

Holding out a hand towards the trail, Sabine closed her eyes and concentrated. A dull, wispy, indigo spell lit up from her palm to better see the charges in the air. With careful footsteps, she turned and followed the trail of residual magic away from the grave. Fendros followed along, keeping an eye out.

Fendros looked to the farmer while they walked. "Ghanir, did anyone see any trace of this act? Do you know anyone who might-"

"Shh!" Sabine interrupted.

Fendros lowered his voice. "...Do you know anyone who might have seen anything?"
Fendros listened and looked conflicted. "That may be the case," he said, "but she had already proven that the Dwemer things obey her commands out of nowhere. I hope there is more to go on when we arrive, or else she is still our primary suspect."

"Um..." Sabine was reluctant to speak up at first, but by drawing Fendros' attention, she brought herself to add her piece. "I do not interact with Hal-Neesa for long periods, but I have spoken to her likely...more often than most in the clan. She does not care about us. I mean to say...she would not try to hide if she wanted the bodies. She would probably say it was for her Dwemer project but they do not usually need bodies."

"That's a good point as well," Fendros admitted. A trace of worry cast over his face as they walked the rest of the way to the cemetery.

Fendros and Sabine took their time around the exhumed coffin and the area around it. They searched for any traces or scents they could make use of, but luck was not on their side.

"Well, you were right, Ghanir," Fendros said down at the coffin, scratching his head. "This certainly wasn't the work of a chaurus, and the Falmer haven't been this close to the city for years. Let's see..." He peered around. "It would have to be someone living amongst us, with a need for corpses, discreet, quick to get out of the way and hide...and one that the sphere would not accost. Saras, was the sphere that kept watch told to only allow certain people into the graveyard or is it like the ones in the streets that will not attack any of us?"

Sabine squat down close to the tracks. "It might not be someone in the city. We can see where these tracks lead. We might get lucky."
That is terrifyingly adorable
Yeah, that's confusing, but I suppose it's not the first time they've changed which Khajiit are the worldwide common ones.

I agree about keeping what we have. Pretty sure we"be included every variety except for a Mane and maybe one other.
Aw, boooo. No senche-rahts?

I have only seen a couple of screenshots of that DLC in passing. Maybe I should track down some more.
Talk of the grave robberies had Fendros slightly nervous. His rational mind reminded him quickly that Ahnasha had her limits, even if it was the first suspect he thought of. Besides, it was unfair to assume it was her by virtue of being one of the only necromancers he knew. He was on enough alert that did not hesitate to respond. "Of course," he said with a firm. "That foreman can wait. This is no time for digging up our dead."

Sabine was less eager but she was not about to complain. "We can hope Hal-Neesa is not in a poor mood."

"We can hope," Fendros said. "Thank you again, Blue-Shield. I apologise for cutting this short, but I expect you'll be hearing from us soon for fittings and the like." He began to walk. "Come, let us see to this. Saras, could you give us the details on the way to the graveyard? And you..." he addressed the farmer. "Tell us your name and lead the way, please."

Sabine followed along pensively with her hands clasped.
@Archangel89 Thanks for your patience, Ikarus is ready to go. Consider yourself accepted.

Welcome to Divinus!
All I can think of right now is working out how Ahnasha's relationship with her family ended up.

Other than that, unless we're gunning for a cash-grab next generation sequel, I think I'm all good hahah.
I don't have anything else in mind for this scene. You can move us on if you like.
Fendros smiled. "Those are kind words, Blue-Shield," he said. "It doesn't sound like we could stop you if we tried."

Janius agreed. "I'll not be turning down a new weapon from the likes of you, that's for sure."

"What is your opinion, Meesei?" Fendros turned to their leader. "You and Sabine know more than I about what Daedra hearts can be used for. I feel whatever our forgemaster will make will be very fine, but perhaps the Daedric edge will be pivotal?"

Rhazii had his ears pert, containing his own excitement. "I might get to hold a real Daedric weapon," he whispered.
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