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J'Dar apologizes. His homeland is tad more free in speech.

J'Dar thought to himself "I didn't say anything wrong..." He then remmebered what the other one said. He then realized he wasn't being spoken to. He said. "J'Dar would like to say he is sorry, he missunderstood you." He said with an embarrassed hiss."

"Hmph!" Siaenach snorted. "While I must say it's bad luck for Dunmer, Bosmer and any Altmer living outside the Dominion, I can't say I'd miss the Thalmor. Damned purists talk and talk about keeping the war in Skyrim going (as far as I heard), and yet they do nothing to aid my people and our cause! They can rot for all I care. No offense."

Selara nodded, then realized that probably wouldn't be visible to the apparently blind Imperial, adding instead "Alright." Turning to Malatar, Selara murmured "It's past time to be gone from this place. I...I need to find whomever was responsible for this tragedy. I owe them a debt of pain." Rage lit a fire in her eyes as she spoke, and her quiet voice trembled with seething fury.

"Follow me if you want to avenge your brethren." Said the blind Imperial.

Meanwhile...

"We face a serious problem here." Said Singer. "Tomorrow, the Marukhati will go to the empires of Tamriel and request that the empires include the Marukhati's ideals in their laws. Including the law that all Elves are to be put to the sword." He said.

"What do we civilians do, that is what J'Dar would like to know.

"Which means that at least Skyrim will accept them... Just another reason to get away from that hollering madman," Siaenach mumbled. "I might need to alert a few contacts of mine... In any case, why should I help?"

"That's beside the point," Feather-Tail interjected in reply to Siaenach's query. "Are you some sort of mystic, 'Singer'? How can we be sure that you're words are valid? Being an agent of my own homeland's government, I'd rather have the Marukhati's request delivered directly to my superiors than act simply upon your assumptions."

"I should say not, pigeon-brain!" Siaenach responded. "If it seems this man, this nord wants our help, I think it's quite relevant whether we should help or not. No offense to the elves here, but really, I've got better thngs to do than running around after some shady assassination group that may or may not actually exist. I have a land to free."

J'Dar looked angry with the last made comment. He told the Breton, "Breton! J'Dar tells you to tell him why you are not kind? Does Breton not feel sympothy?" He made a hissing sound on the 'th' in sympothy. He started bck up again, "If J'Dar and all of these others know, should we not fight for the defenseless? You cannot tell me you are scared, Breton. You seem to have had a fair share of battles, he thinks."

Sebastien turned toward J'Dar, offering him an understanding frown. "Calm yourself, J'Dar," he softly said. "She is not worth your anger. Time is not wasted on such feeble causes as hers."

Turning his attention toward Singer, he gave the Nord a skeptical raise of his eyebrow. "I don't understand what the Thalmor or the Empire have much to do with us. I do not think myself a man of prophecy or laws."

"Do not allow your rage to govern your thoughts or actions." Malatar whispered to Selara. "Let it enhance your ability to survive. We will gain our revenge...but as of this moment, our main focus is to stay hidden, and stay alive."

"Breton?! You got the nerve to...? No, nevermind that. Let me instead tell you why it's not a feeble cause! Was it a feeble cause when Alessia rebeled? Was it a feeble cause we drove out the Akaviri invaders? When we drove out the Daedra? THis is no different! It just concerns less people! You'd be amazed how cynical people can be if they aren't living in the middle of it! We have been forced to the bottom of the hay pile TWO times by foreign invaders. And yet no one raises an eyebrow when we try to get justice! Justice is not a feeble cause, breton. Don't forget that!"

Singer turned to Feather-Tail. "You're smarter than you look, Argonian. I wasn't going to tell you right away, but I am a Seer." A spiteful look crossed his face. "The Good Empress is a fortune teller, at best, speaking in rhymes and riddles. I just see the future, plain and simple. And, while I'm explaining, I might as well say that everyone here is part of 'The Chosen' Margaret spoke about. You're all destined to destroy the Marukhati and bring peace to Tamriel."

"Agreed," Selara breathed. "We survive, and we plan." Straightening her spine and holding her head high, Selara turned to their unlikely rescuer. "But for now," she said, speaking more audibly now. "It seems we have little choice but to follow you. Shall we gather our belongings and leave the dust of this place behind us?"

Sebastien scoffed, tightening his arms across his chest. "Seeing the future? I think you are mistaken, Nord." He shook his head, as if that would reinforce the point. Then he surveyed the crowd gathered, as if sizing up the so-called Chosen who would embark on this mission. Beast and mer and men, male and female, tall and short, none looking particularly talented and none looking more capable of their supposed task than he was interested in it. He shook his head again and fell silent, staring into the night.

"J'Dar asks how we were... 'chosen'."

Irri watched the Nord with interest. "Prophesy is Azura's realm." She said in an even, measured voice. "Have you been in contract with the Daedra?"

"Have you ever heard the rumor that Seers -- extremely talented ones -- have a connection to Azura?" Singer asked. Without waiting for an answer, he went on. "It is, in my case, quite true. You can call me a Demigod, because Azura is my birth mother."

"Yes." Malatar replied. "And we shall do it quickly."

"Dawnborn? Truly?" Irriwen repeated, her dark eyes slowly reevaluating Singer. "Like in stories."