UESP Forums

Xander's lip curled. He was tired of being treated this way.
"Listen to me carefully. I view all of you equal to myself. As do most members of my house. However, if you continue to treat me thus, I am afraid I will start acting like the most barbaric of my race."
He paused.
"Can't we all just get along?" he sighed, knowing he'd be ignored.

Shows-His-Teeth turned away from Leille to face Xander. "Are you done with your speeches? Just because we're on this journey together doesn't mean we are going to get along. At least it doesn't have to mean that." He remembered the Dunmer's self-righteous words, spoken earlier. "I would prefer I see you as little as possible, so please, stop interrupting this conversation, and go away. I'm sure you have something important to do." He turned back towards Leille without waiting for a response. He felt touched that she would allow to him to name her two Imps, seeing as to how much she seemed to adore them. "Well, I would be honored to give them names." The Argonian paused for a moment, studying the pair carefully. "They remind me of two friends I used to know, always together. Their names were Tyronis and Dherian." He smiled. "That should do."

Leille grinned. "Tyronis," she said, pointing to the Imp on her right shoulder. "And Dherian." she pointed to the Imp on her left. Dherian clapped at recieving his name. Tyronis reached over and gently slapped Shows-His-Teeth on the cheek a few times. Both were chirping loudly in joy. Leille laughed as both fluttered high into the air, almost to the ceiling, beginning to play tag.

"I feel as though I should tell you a secret, Argonian." Leille stated, still laughing a bit as she watched her Imps play in the air. She turned to Shows-His-Teeth. "Would you like me to tell you?"

Shows-His-Teeth felt a bit nervous, but obviously was now curious as to said secret. "Of course. We'll be around eachother for a while, most likely. We should get to know one another. Tell me."

The Breton leaned over to Shows-His-Teeth. "I'm not a mage." she said in a whisper so quiet that only the Argonian could hear her. "I'm a witch." She was looking directly into Shows-His-Teeth's eyes, but looked in another direction as Tyronis fell to the floor as Dherian tackled him. She laughed shortly, but then looked at the Argonian again to view his reaction. She was nervous that he wouldn't approve. Witches were often looked down upon in Tamriel. They were even hunted.

Shows-His-Teeth shrugged in acceptance, then smiled again. "Never saw much of a difference anyway."

"I'm glad." Leille replied. "It's not as bad as everyone says, you know. Some people view us as evil, and others as enlightened. Then there are people like you who don't see a difference between us and common mages." she smiled and winked. "Those are the best kinds of people."

This was why Leille granted so much respect to the Argonian people. They accepted your ways as long as you accepted theirs. "Come back here." she said to her Imps. They each ran to their master and climbed to her shoulders. The Breton stood. "It was nice talking to you, Shows-His-Teeth." she said happily. "I hope to do so again soon." she held her hand out for a handshake.

Shows-His-Teeth shook her hand firmly. It felt just a bit cold, not that he minded. "I'm going to go get some rest. I'll see you when we depart." With that he left.

Matthias looked up to see the Argonian leaving. Matthias felt his eyes getting heavy, and he quickly fell asleep. His head was up against the bench he was on. He started to snore loudly, and almost woke himself up.

"It was nice talking to you earlier today too, Matthias." Leille said to Matthias, refering to their conversation just before sitting down with the Altmer king. She laughed as she noticed that he was sound asleep. She harshly bumped into Xander as she passed, glaring at him with anger. Tyronis frowned and stuck his tongue out at the Dunmer.

Matthias was sound asleep, when a sudden knock hit him. He woke up, and realized it was the Breton.
"Uh, i'll kill you!" Matthias muttered, not realizing what he said. He slapped himself in the face, waking himself up.
"Oh, uh, hi Leille!" Matthias quietly said.

Shows-His-Teeth allowed a young Imperial swordsman, a guard of the magnificent place, to guide him to the guest room where he was being allowed to rest. The man even offered to carry his small collection of belongings. At least some of the people here had respect, Shows-His-Teeth thought, reminded of Xander Farseer. Once his things were in place, he respectfully asked for the guard to leave, which he did, promptly and politely. The Argonian quickly surveyed the modest room, letting the calming atmosphere soak into his body. Once satisfied, he let himself down into a sturdy cushioned chair, and began to read from one of many books seated on the nearby bookshelf. This one was an autobiography of sorts, entitled Travels of the Southern Roads. He read late into the night.

Xander remained still, calling out to Lielle as she left.
"You dislike me for my complexion and the doings of others. How very heroic."
He turned to look at her. His dark blue skin had flushed grey in anger.
"Why? Why must I be despised for the doings of my brethren?"

"Listen, i don't care if you, or your racist pigs die. I would cut you through if you weren't part of my group. Now, stay out of our business, and run off." Matthias got up, and went to his guest room. He fell down onto the bed, and fell asleep. He woke up a few minutes later, and a letter had awaited before him. He opened the letter, and it read:
Matthias, i know you are very busy, but i need you to meet me at my house, its important.
L. Matthias stood up, and walked over to the front gates, half asleep.

Xander's lips peeled back from his teeth in an intimidating snarl. And they called his race bad. He felt tempted to shoot this imperial [&@%!] full of arrows for his hypocrisy. Were the imperials not the enemy? Perhaps he'd do the world a service.
Control.
Yes, control. So Garret Farseer had told him when he was only twelve years of age.
If we as a race had more control, his father had said, his wine-red eyes glinting from underneath his silver helm, The world would be a better place.
Did the witchhunter not strive to make the world a better place?
So Xander made no move when Matthias left, though he glared after him in fury, despising the man.

Then it hit the Breton witch. The confident attitude, the enchanted clothing, the "good-willed" motives...Xander was a witchunter. Her eyes widened at the realization of the Dark Elf's occupation. But she calmed herself quickly. "It's not your race that drives me against you, Xander." Leille stated. "It's your profession."

She quickly slipped out of the room and walked down the next hallway to her quarters.

The Breton's remark puzzled Xander. Was she not a mage?
He realized that she might be a witch.
The thought made him recoil slightly. He did not want to harm Lielle, no more then he wanted to hurt another Dunmer.
She reminded him of his mother.
He walked away, trying to find Arathor.

"A witchhunter, my dearest friends..." Lielle said to the Imps. They looked at each other with shock. Lielle chuckled shortly. "Well, he sure as hell won't be hunting me down."

She turned into her room where she remained for the rest of the night.

The fellowship gathered on the docks the next morning. They planned to set sail as soon as possible.

Lielle was well-prepared for the journey. She looked pretty, wearing a long fur cape over her black and burgundy dress to keep warm, as it was very cold out at sea. Her red hair was tied into a long braid. She carried a case filled with different articles of clothing, potions, and a book of spells. Her Imps were excited, perched on their master's shoulder and cherping to each other wildly.

Xander and Arathor stood by on their horses. Wheras Arathor was clad in native Armun-An bonemold armor, Xander was a wearing a strange bonemold plate armor he called chitin. With this he wore an orange scarf and a pair of strange eyeglasses called "goggles", apparently used by hunters in morrowind's ashlands. Arathor clutched a beautiful ebony spear. Xander was content with a bow and a selection of arrows, some of which were enchanted. They both sat stride enormous War Horses. Xander's was the smaller but stronger of the two, the stallion known as Vaarenor who Xander had kept all his life.

"I doubt a horse will be of much use to you at sea, gentlemen." Lielle said as she passed the two Dunmer. Tyronis hopped off of Lielle's shoulder and approached the massive steed of Xander. He chirped shortly and jumped up without using his wings, grabbing the horse's nostrils with his hands. He hung there, chirping loudly. Dherian chirped as well, clapping his hands.

"Tyronis!" Lielle scolded. "Get back here!"

With a smile, the Imp let go of the horse's nostrils and fluttered back to his master. She rolled her eyes and bent down in front of Tyronis. "Never do that again! Understand!?" The Imp shook his head. "Good. Now listen..." Lielle placed Dherian beside Tyronis. "It's going to be cold out there. You're going to have to keep warm. Here." Lielle pulled out two small black scarves from her pockets and gently wrapped them around each of the Imps' necks. They didn't like it much at all. "I know you don't like them, but you must keep them on if you don't want to freeze to death."

With small chirps, they climbed back onto Lielle's shoulders.

Vaarenor reared up on his hind legs, uttering not a bray but a deep roar. He galloped at Lielle full tilt, his eyes red and his nostrils trailing black smoke, determined to squash the ugly bug that had attacked him.
"Vaarenor," Xander said quietly. Vaarenor stopped immediately, not needing to slow. Dust was thrown up into Lielle's eyes. Vaarenor grunted, kicking one of the imps like a child might kick a ball, and began to wander away. Xander slid from his saddle and turned to Lielle.
"Vaarenor is no ordinary horse," Xander smiled wisely. "He is one of the Radahad or the dragon-sons."