#thevoidstarter

Archery wasn’t Aloys’s strongest skill, he knew that but considering how valued stealth was here, he wanted to do his best to fit in, picking up his bow and going to the training area. It wasn’t that bad at first. Sure his arrows tended to hit the edges of the targets rather than the center where he was aiming but it was a decent enough show. That was until he got a little distracted and sent an arrow sailing far off topic and only narrowly missing another figure. “Oh.. oh! Sorry! Sorry about that. Are you okay? I uh... I missed,” he ended with, sighing. “I didn’t break anything with that, did I?”

“If one more armorer attempts to sell me breastplate with holes in it I may have to torch every smithy from her to Daggerfall,” Cosette muttered under her breath. She was sick and tired of being sold impractical armor on account of her gender. Male or female, the point of armor was for giving your opponent as little chances of possible for poking a hole in you. “I really ought to try designing my own,”.

“ -- want a bite?” 

“There’s never enough wine in this bloody sanctuary.” Alastair swung his feet up onto the table before him, stretching out, long and languid, with half-consumed glass in his hand. “Where does it all go? I certainly don’t drink it all on my own. Certainly would if I could, however.”