#devouttemplar

Cyrelas rounded on the knight, turning to face him. “I don’t imagine I truly care if you believe me, ser.” He raised an eyebrow at the other man, slightly bewildered.

"Uhh...I think you got me mixed up with someone else, ser. I don't sell fish."

"What an interesting individual. I’ve seldom heard someone speak the way he does, but he’s very sweet."

"Please don’t argue. You have to leave right now, you aren’t safe here." The women fixed her gaze on him, her eyes gleaming with intensity. She wanted him to know she was serious.

"Well, this is where I live."

"Why didn't he come and talk to me himself?" was all that Andrius could respond with, when the Paladin said he was here on business from the head of some order of knights. Tired, cranky, and more than a week sober, he had very little patience left. "So tell me again what this Lord wants with me?"

The Dunmer swayed slightly as she stood. Her body felt heavy, the large amount of mead in her system being the cause. She smiled at the man before her. “I really like your butt.” She slurred at him.

“And it has horn holes!” He slips it on, the cover sliding over his snout. He keeps the visor down. “… How d’you even see out of this?”