@visioncrone âĄâd
âAnd itâs like that everywhere.â When heâd come back here - come back to Morthal, come back to some swampy little wide spot in the middle of the road - he certainly hadnât expected to sit down in front of the jarl of the place and start spilling it. But here he is anyway, doing exactly that. His hands fidget over the things on the table, giving him something to focus on, to narrow his thoughts, and give him something grounded in the here and now to ensure it stays as impersonal as it can. He picks up a quill, twirls it a moment, before his hands move again, to adjust the candle in its holder, the ink pot, the scraps of parchment and paper that he scatters and restacks.
âAll ruined, all full of...Broken machines where someoneâs come in and looted the place dry of anything they can tear apart and strip down and sell. I mean, I know everyone told me it was gonna be that way but I had to see it, you know? I had to see it myself and part of me kind of wishes I hadnât. Because that idiot Kagrenac really did it, didnât he? Unbelievable.â
He pauses there. Forces himself look up at her and shrug it off.  âSo that was my vacation. Howâs the swamp.â














