#in which Muraz is Muraz

[fireintheforest]

Market happenings

A nudge to Saufinril’s shoulder made him stir in his bed, but his eyes remained closed. He fell back to sleep when a second nudge interrupted him, but he just made a sound from the back of his throat, and in no time he was sleeping back to unconsciousness…until the third nudge came. Saufinril repeated the noise he’d made before, though now he extended it and covered his head with the sheets.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” A familiar voice said. Then it was all still and silent, quiet.

Until the fourth nudge.

“Mhrmm?” Saufinril asked, pushing the sheet down from his head and opening one lazy, emerald green eye. The figure in front of him said something earnestly, but even though he heard it, he couldn’t exactly comprehend well or retain what it was saying. Not even the silhouette in front of him rang a bell, though it wasn’t threatening either.

“Saufinril!”

Saufinril just blinked slowly.

“Oh come on!” he felt a fifth nudge, “Don’t fall back to sleep, you lazy bastard!” Saufinril’s eyes closed gently, “No-Saufinril!”

And in came the calm darkness, where all outside noises ceased to exist. Where the reality doesn’t matter as the descent to the realm or dreams commen-

A sixth nudge, this one harder than the others.

“Mmh!” Saufinril protested, now really starting to wake up.

“Come on! How quickly you jump to the arms of dreams, yet you run from mine. Hypocrite!”

Oh, it’s Muraz. Saufinril pushed himself to sit down, yawning while he did so, then rubbed his eyes with his palms.

“What…is the need…?” he didn’t even know how he was asking this, he just pushed his messy hair back and looked at Muraz in front of him, “Morning.” He said in a sleepy voice.

“You look equal parts cute and handsome when you wake up.” Muraz said, “The sunlight of my life. What a fucking task it is to wake you up, by Y’ffre, doesn’t it ever bring you trouble? One day your house is gonna be set on fire by some jealous lover and you’ll sleep through it. Nobody will feel bad in your funeral because we all will know you slept through it and didn’t suffer. How did Lillandril do with you all those years? Did he had to fucking throw you from the mattress? Ice, maybe? Did it even work, or did it just set you into a hibernation mode?”

Saufinril was staring at him with a still somnolent face, blinked slow and only caught half of what the orsimer said. He sniffed and took the leather ribbon he had next to the bed and tied his hair up in a messy bun. “What do you want, Muraz?” he asked, passing a hand to tame the flyaways and covering his yawn with one hand.

“I gotta go down to the market to fetch some things. Thought it might work for you to leave the Den for a bit. If anyone asks, you’re the one carrying the things so it’s still bitch work for you. Can you even leave the Den while you’re under the rap?”

Saufinril thought for a second. He stretched his arms upwards, letting them crack at the joints here and there while his shirt rode up a bit, revealing a strip of his lower stomach that Muraz looked at for a second before turning back to Saufinril’s face.

“Mmmmhhhhh….” It was a noise of satisfaction at the stretch what came from Saufinril before he said, “One doesn’t recall him saying one couldn’t leave. Granted,” he lowered his arms again, making the shirt cover up his skin again, “the confinement is somewhat self-imposed. One doesn’t want to run into the Thalmor or that ginger pig again. Besides, with everything one has had to do here, one hasn’t had the chance to stroll outside.”

“Saufinril, you can’t lock yourself forever over one mistake you did. And ok, you’ve been busy but also! Remember I need a little mule to carry my shopping so…” Muraz tilted his head with a grin, “What do you say? I need help.”

“Muraz, you’re stronger than one.”

“Your compliments warm my heart, beloved, but I do need an extra pair of hands. Come on, we’ll be back soon. If you’re worried about the bosses,” he added in a low volume, “I’ll take the rap for you. You always do with me and it’s the least I could do. I promise. If Lillandril gets pissed, I’ll take full responsibility.”

“One must be dreaming, one has never heard you say that sentence in one’s life.”

“Shut up, I’m being nice. Well? What do you say?”

Saufinril sighed, then smiled at Muraz, “Let one take breakfast and get ready, then we can go.”

“Yess!” Muraz clapped his hands, “Alright, yes.” Saufinril pushed the sheets aside and stood up, then went down to the kitchen, followed closely by Muraz. Around an hour later, the Den’s door opened to let both Muraz and Saufinril out, with Saufinril carrying the bag where they’d put the things they’d acquire in.

“-fuck you need two hours to get ready for, anyways?” Muraz protested

“One did not take two hours in getting ready, Muraz.” Saufinril contradicted, “One took just enough to look good, get off one’s dick.”

“It took forever, Saufinril.”

“It didn’t, you’re just overdramatic.”

The bickering went on as they reached the market, at which point it lessened when they got distracted by the merchants, their goods and, more importantly, the knife jugglers in the center of the plaza with their music ensemble on the background of the antics. All of them Bosmer, the jugglers consisted of three males and two females, all moving as nimbly as if they were made of air. All movements closely coordinated, all choreography executed flawlessly, all looking like they were having fun and, as such, infecting their growing crowd with it. The drums marked the beat of the juggling and the acrobacies, which ranged from cartwheels between the fire balls being tossed by two of the Bosmer, to using each other as climbing pillars and extending the juggling higher up, while the flute added the melody of danger when the acrobats jumped from one of their partners to the other amongst knifes in the air, and the big, harp-like guitar of 21 chords made of leather and ivory accompanied the flute in an entrancing melody. Somewhere, a pair of bone castanets were being played to the tempo of the drums but it was impossible for Saufinril to see which of the musicians were the ones playing it.

The smallest girl of the group had just landed an aerial backflip from one of the Bosmer pillars and had managed to jump to the other pillar flawlessly (which already consisted of two Bosmer), earning a round of applause. Saufinril’s gaze wandered away from the acrobats back to the musicians to solve the mystery of the castanets when he saw someone on the public on the other side. It took him some seconds to recognize him as one of the Dunmer that had been frequenting the Den these past nights, it was the one with the neck scar. The one that always came with the other younger Dunmer with a Mohawk and a tattoo in his head, though this time he was in the company of a rather tall and muscular Imperial woman. Both were focused on the aerialists, with the Imperial woman being the most excited of the duo.  Though his face didn’t share the thrill of the Imperial woman’s, he was nonetheless clapping with the audience and seemed interested in the number.

He’s particularly stoic. Then again, it’s not that bizarre for the Dunmer to be so standoffish, especially to strangers. It’s just their culture. This one, for instance, would give the first impression of being completely disinterested in the show despite paying attention to the gymnasts, evidenced in how his sharp, ruby red eyes followed their movements. His face was sharp, too. The ink black hair, which back in the Den that night had been let lose, was now tied up to show the undershave that had started to grow. Saufinril kept observing the Dunmer, absorbing every detail he couldn’t that night. That was a long scar. One line, clean edges, that was made by a blade aimed at the jugular. It was a miracle he’d escaped, with only a pebble gray scar on his aegean skin. He had a nice eye shape. Sharp, rather narrow, but there was something about those eyes that didn’t make him feel any hostility or alert. The shape of those eyes reminded him of the blades of grass or on the little vine leaves back in his grandparents’ house. That, along with the shade of red and the sense of serenity and air of confident arrogance, brought a feeling of something. Saufinril couldn’t exactly place a finger on what he was feeling, he just knew he felt it, vibrant and present and pleasant, in his stomach. It was an immediate effect. Similar, he guessed in silence, to what Ria had with his suitors. Or with anyone, really, that crossed his path. Some people are just magnetic, he concluded, looking back at the acrobats, that’s all.

As if to test his theory, he looked back at the Dunmer. He was listening to something that the rugged lady was telling him, complete with her moving her hands in enthusiast explanation. The Dunmer listened, gave a nod here and there, but otherwise remained silent. Yes, the pull was there. That’s how he could call it, a pull. Perhaps this Dunmer was also of the Serpent sign? Did all signs share a similar gift? Perhaps not exactly the same, but similar. Just like how he and his mother were both of the Mage sign but she excelled at Alchemy while Saufinril was proven adept at spells. He just knew that he felt a peaceful focus. Perhaps this was his gift? What an interesting one. And what a beautiful eye shape. At that moment, the Dunmer crossed his arms, observing the show, and Saufinril’s gaze went to his arms. Taut muscles defined them, coming to sight with the change in position. Now Saufinril could also see some scars around the Dunmer’s wrists and forearms. Probably obvious that he’d be in good shape if he was from the Thieves’ Guild, but somehow the thought that he’d be buff hadn’t crossed Saufinril’s mind when he’d guessed that at the Den the other night. He also now realized there were some tattoos on his arms, mostly on the upper part. And the pull was still there. Definitely probably someone from the Serpent sign too.

“That was great.” Muraz interrupted Saufinril’s train of thought, “Come on, let’s go. We still have some stuff to do.” Saufinril looked away from the Dunmer, realizing that the acrobats and musicians had ended their show and were collecting coin. He put some in the cup that one of the drummers passed, but when he looked up to search for the Dunmer again, he and his brawny companion were gone. And just like that, the pull lowered in intensity. Saufinril followed Muraz to one of the stores, where they left only after an hour (“You have no business calling one out for taking one’s time getting ready in the morning if it takes you an hour to pick a pattern.”) to go to the next one. And the next one. And the next one.

“Muraz, this is taking a considerable while and you said it wouldn’t be long.” Saufinril protested, following Muraz from yet another stand while carrying the bag Muraz had given him.

“Listen, I know. We just need some eyeliner and we’re done. Plus we haven’t lasted that long, don’t be impatient. I waited for you for an hour.”

“Can’t you be normal and make the eyeliner yourself like your mom does? One can teach you, it’s easy.”

“And waste ingredients over and over and over?”

“She doesn’t waste them ‘over and over and over’, plus they go back to the ground and all that.”

“It’s just that one stand over there and we’re going back to the Den. Relax! Lillandril won’t kill you for leaving for a couple hours.”

“You don’t know about that.” Saufinril muttered, following the orsimer, who replied, “Like Rialas would let him kill you! You’re a constant source of entertainment for him.”

 The purchase was done fast, in a store near the end of the merchant part of the city, but much to Saufinril’s chagrin, something caught Muraz’s eye.

“Hey um…” he began, “do you mind waiting for me here one moment?”

“Where are you going?” Saufinril asked, puzzled

“Just, it won’t take long.” Saufinril followed Muraz’s gaze, only to see a curly brunette with honey eyes that he recognized instantly, “Ohhhh no. No. No. No, Muraz. You said she wouldn’t be an issue anymore!”

“And she hasn’t been!” Muraz said, turning back to him, “We just, suddenly stopped talking and that’s it.”

“Then all things ended, so what’s the need of you to go bother her? Look at her, she’s busy buying cheese! Just, let her be! Let���s go back to the Den, before Lillandril decides one has to clean the floors with one’s tongue.”

“It’s just, we never got to actually say-there’s a lot I need to say-”

“Muraz,” Saufinril put his hands on the orsimer’s shoulders, almost begging by now, “sometimes you don’t need to say shit. Sometimes, silence by itself is an answer. If neither of you guys spoke to each other in months since one left for the Isles and came back, the message is loud and clear.”

“Well, but we did talk…”

Saufinril stared at Muraz. “Come again?”

“Yes, um…we saw each other, it was two weeks or so after you left and she asked me some things and I need to-you know, let her know. It was something private, something that got me thinking, and I do think that if I don’t say them right now, I never will have the chance and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Or hers, given that she’s Imperial.”

Saufinril stared at Muraz, then sighed and let him go, “By Y’ffre, you can be such an idiot. Fine. Go clear up whatever you need to clear with that-that trollop. One will be waiting here.”

Muraz blew him a kiss, walking backwards, “You are the sun of my life, the fire in my sky, the reason for my life!”

“One is also the whip on your ass, Muraz, telling you to hurry up so we can go!” Muraz then turned and left. The market was somewhat crowded, so Saufinril could see the wild black hair going after the curly brown one until a Bosmer with her water buffalos cut the line of sight. At that, Saufinril put the bag on the ground and stretched, wondering how mad Lillandril would be if they came back by nighttime, which was a sure time for them to come back if Muraz let the little hussie talk him into staying on the palm of her hand like she always did. Saufinril rolled his eyes. He’d be grateful he couldn’t fall for the opposite gender if only he hadn’t fallen with shitty specimens of his own in the past. Hopefully Lillandril would be in a good mood when they came back. Or hopefully, Muraz would remember to say it was his idea. He was going to smear honey on all his clothes if he didn’t or, more conveniently, ‘forgot’. Still, this was probably not an easy talk, so Saufinril understood when ten minutes had gone by and Muraz hadn’t returned. Fifteen even. By twenty, he was wondering what was going on. By thirty, Saufinril was peering around to see if he could catch a glimpse of the orsimer. When forty-five minutes had passed, the Altmer gave up and, grabbing the bag again, started to go back to the direction of the Den.

“Well, if it isn’t the knife-ear I was looking for!”

Saufinril stopped in his tracks, closing his eyes and exhaling. Great. Perfect. He turned around to face the ginger Imperial. Several scars adorned his face now, all red with scabs and still healing. One of those went across his nose, probably even a fracture from the way it crooked slightly to the right now, and another was horribly close to his eye. That one made Saufinril stare longer. A little more and he could’ve lost an eye. The Imperial immediately figured that was what Saufinril was looking at.

“You piece of shit elf.” He growled, stepping forward with his other six friends, who carefully circled around, “You gods-damned subspecies. You think this is funny, huh? Your little fucking artwork on my face? Look at it!”

Saufinril did. Scars that would stay there forever, scars that almost reached eyes, that went all the way to the side of the face and mingled with the freckles in the man’s visage, “Yeah, it connects the dots.” He mocked.

“Got a sense o’ humor, this one!” one of the men around him, the one with a simple wooden club, said

“Let’s see if he laughs when we give ‘im a drubbin’.” Another said, pulling out his knife. “Fuckin’ wedgie-ass twiggy!” another snapped. Saufinril looked around, seeing all of them with weapons here and there. “Let’s make him look normal, trim them ears.” Someone said. “Serah, I am so sorry”, he thought as he summoned spells on each hand.

[archdl]

Aquabella - Designed by @3xnarchitects "Did you know that Aquabella is pursuing Platinum LEED status, and environmentally friendly initiatives will make Aquabella one of the greenest buildings in the world? • Low flow plumbing fixtures to reduce potable water consumption by over 50% • Storm water cisterns to capture rain for the building’s plants, which are all either drought tolerant or native plantings • Suites featuring Energy Star appliances and ERVs (energy recovery ventilators) to help you save up to 60% on energy, while improving indoor air quality 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘼𝙦𝙪𝙖𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙖 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙟𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙥𝙪𝙩𝙨 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙧 𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙦𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬𝙨, 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙮𝙡𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙨𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮. Images 1+2 : 3XN Renders Images 3-7: Photography by Michael Muraz" ⭕ What do you think about this design and visualization? 🔻Tag your Architect Friends! . ❌Turn ON Post Notifications to see new Contents.❗ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Follow @archdlofficial for more! 🖤 Tag #archdl or DM your works for Featuring! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . #modernarchitecture #architecture #nordicdesign #archilovers #archdaily #archigram #archdesign #archlovers #archdesigndaily #architecturefactor #arch_impressive #designfuture #arc_only #architects_review #render_awards #instarender #architecturevisualization #rendertrends #renderlovers #archviz #thebna #illustrarch #zeroemissions #sustainabledesign #sustainablearchitecture (at Toronto waterfront) https://www.instagram.com/p/CfO00LGsE5u/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[lagroupie]

Interview : Annie Taylor #2

Annie Taylor, sunshine and fun at Palp Festival, through my Nikon.

What's better than celebrating (the end of) summer with a concert of Annie Taylor in the middle of the vines ? Nothing. It was pure joy to watch them play in that tiny cellar in Muraz in Wallis ! The place was naturally packed, and it was so much fun.

A few hours before the show, I meet the band backstage to catch up. Naturally, they immediately pour me a glass of local wine and we decide to take pictures in the vines. Join us as we talk about their latest album Sweet Mortality, their future projects, Star Wars and more !

Many thanks to Annie Taylor and the Palp Festival team for their warm welcome !

We last saw each other in 2019. What has changed since then ?

Jan : We still live in Zürich, and Tobi lives in Solothurn. But we have a new rehearsal room !

Gini : Oof ! A lot of things changed on my side. I quit my job (ndlr : Gini was a kindergarten teacher) so that I could make more music. That was a big step ! Also, the pandemic fucked our plans and dreams ! We are trying to get back on track, pursuing our dreams and new ideas. It’s challenging !

I remember, you had planned a full US tour !

Jan : Yeah, that really went to shit.

Gini : We still have it in mind, but it is postponed for now,  because due to the context of the pandemic we might have to cancel it again. We are focusing more on Europe. We played Reeperbahn Festival recently, and we’re also playing Eurosonic Nordeslag in the Netherlands in February, wich is really cool. Plus there will be new music !

Tobi and Gini setting their guitars on fire at Palp Festival, through my Nikon.

Gini, you left your job as a kindergarten teacher to do music full time, that’s a big step !

Gini : Yes, I was longing for it ! I’m still trying to get some money here and there to keep my head above water though. I got really lucky and got some funding from the government. Now I just have to figure out how to make enough money with music ! It also gives me more freedom, I can travel and meet new people who also work in music. I’m not worried, I think everything will be fine.

Let’s talk about your latest record Sweet Mortality ! You couldn’t tour to promote it because of the pandemic when it came out in 2020, but it got a lot of attention abroad, like in the UK !

Gini : The lockdown happened the exact same month we planned to release the album, so we were taken by suprise. We decided to reschedule the release and spread the singles releases a little bit more.

Jan : When you cannot go to the places you want to play, you have to do a lot of PR work. Our team was great for that.

Gini : It would have been easier to promote the record by just playing shows. We had to reinvent everything.

Jan : Not being able to play as much as we would have liked was very sad.

Gini : All the parties we missed ! (laughs)

Michael : The tour starts now though. We have a lot of shows planned, and had time to work on our stage performance !

My favorite song from the record is Words. Could you tell me more about it ? Who is it adressed to ?

Gini : It is adressed to whoever you want ! Every song from the album can be interpreted in various ways. You can imagine anyone you would like to fit into the lyrics.

Let’s imagine the band Annie Taylor exists inside the world of Star Wars. You have been captured by the evil empire, and they are about to imprison you. However, Darth Vader gives you a chance to set yourself free by playing one song. Which song do you choose to play, and why ?

Gini : Lucy, for sure ! It’s a song about the things everybody tells you not to do, but you don’t care and you just want to free yourself… even though it’s wrong. I think that’s exactly what Darth Vader did right ?!

Jan : Definitely. It’s universal.

Michael : Lucy is bigger than Darth Vader ! He would be scared !

What can we expect from Annie Taylor in the future ?

Gini : We’re planning on recording a new album. We’re heading to a really nice studio in Wales in February.

Jan : It’s an old farm that has been transformed into a studio.

Gini : It’s going to be fun, because the four of us are going to live together in a house for two weeks, next to sheep and old gear. Every musician’s dream !

Jan : Sheep and old gear. Every musician’s dream. (laughs)

https://www.annietaylorband.com/

[csrgood]

Johnson & Johnson Announces European Commission Approval for Janssen's Preventive Ebola Vaccine

On July 1, Johnson & Johnson announced that the European Commission (EC) has granted Marketing Authorisation for its Janssen Pharmaceutical Companies’ Ebola vaccine regimen for the prevention of Ebola Virus Disease. Enabled by this approval, Janssen is now collaborating with the World Health Organization (WHO) on vaccine pre-qualification, which should help accelerate registration of its preventive Ebola vaccine regimen in African countries and facilitate broader access to those most in need.

Two Marketing Authorisation Applications (MAAs) were submitted to the European Medicines Agency (EMA) for the vaccines composing the two-dose regimen, Zabdeno® (Ad26.ZEBOV) and Mvabea® (MVA-BN-Filo). Marketing Authorisation under exceptional circumstances has been granted following Accelerated Assessment of the MAAs and a positive opinion by the EMA’s Committee for Medicinal Products for Human Use (CHMP). Janssen’s Ebola vaccine regimen is indicated for active immunization for the prevention of Ebola Virus Disease caused by the Zaire ebolavirus species in individuals aged one year and above.

“The European approval of Janssen’s Ebola vaccine regimen is a landmark moment – both for our Company and in the world’s battle against the deadly Ebola virus. Building on our history, we are committed to bringing forward vaccines to help overcome the threat of some of the world’s most life-threatening infectious diseases,” said Paul Stoffels, M.D., Vice Chairman of the Executive Committee and Chief Scientific Officer of Johnson & Johnson.

The worst Ebola outbreak to date was the West African epidemic, which caused nearly 30,000 cases and more than 11,000 deaths in 2014-2016.[1] There are two outbreaks currently ongoing in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), the first of which began in 2018 and is the world’s second worst Ebola outbreak on record. It has since caused more than 3,000 cases and over 2,000 deaths – a mortality rate of 65 percent.[2]

“The approval of our Ebola vaccine symbolizes the progress Janssen has made towards achieving our vision of delivering potentially transformational vaccines to communities most at risk of deadly infectious diseases. Not only is it the first vaccine to emerge from our vaccines pipeline, it is also the first approved vaccine to be developed using Janssen’s AdVac® technology. The same technology is being used to develop vaccines candidates to protect against SARS-CoV-2, as well as Zika, RSV and HIV,” said Mathai Mammen, M.D., Ph.D., Global Head, Janssen Research & Development, LLC.

Janssen’s Ebola vaccine regimen is specifically designed to induce long-term immunity against the Ebola virus[3],[4] in adults and children aged one year and above. As such, it will be used to support preventive vaccination in countries most at risk of outbreaks, as well as for other at-risk groups such as healthcare workers, biosafety level 4 (BSL4) laboratory workers, military personnel deployed in the affected regions, airport staff and visitors to high-risk countries.

The regimen includes Ad26.ZEBOV as the first dose, based on Janssen’s AdVac® viral vector technology,[5] and MVA-BN-Filo as the second dose, based on Bavarian Nordic’s MVA-BN® technology, administered approximately eight weeks later.[6]

“I am enormously grateful for the dedication from everyone who has been a part of this development, including our many global strategic partners for their extraordinary commitment to helping make this regimen a reality,” said Johan Van Hoof, M.D., Managing Director, Janssen Vaccines and Prevention B.V. “The devastating 2014 outbreak of Ebola in West Africa grew exponentially, overwhelming healthcare systems. In less than six years, with the strength of global public-private collaborations, we have an approved Ebola vaccine which could help those most in need, with the ultimate goal of preventing outbreaks before they start.”

Janssen supported vaccination initiatives in the DRC and neighboring Rwanda, with the goal of preventing Ebola’s geographic spread beyond the outbreak zone. When considering both clinical studies and vaccination initiatives, approximately 60,000 people have been vaccinated with Janssen’s preventive Ebola vaccine regimen to date.[7] Janssen-sponsored Phase 1 studies have been reported in peer-reviewed journals including JAMA3,[8] and the Journal of Infectious Diseases,[9],[10] and Phase 1, 2 and 3 data were presented at the 2019 European Congress of Clinical Microbiology & Infectious Disease (ECCMID).4,6,[11] These studies indicate that the vaccine regimen is well tolerated, inducing robust and durable immune responses to the Zaire ebolavirus species. The evaluation of the protective effect of the vaccine regimen was demonstrated through the bridging of clinical immunogenicity results to efficacy and immunogenicity data obtained in non-human primates (NHP).[12]

In May 2019, the WHO’s Strategic Advisory Group of Experts (SAGE) on immunization recommended the use of the Janssen Ebola vaccine regimen as part of efforts to contain the DRC outbreak[13] and more than 50,000 people in the DRC[14] and Rwanda[15] have been vaccinated to date through this initiative alone.7

Johnson & Johnson has made a significant investment in the Ebola vaccine regimen since its decision to accelerate the development program in 2014 in response to the Ebola crisis in West Africa. The Company is grateful to its global strategic partners who have helped to support and co-fund these efforts, including Bavarian Nordic A/S, the Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority (BARDA), part of the Office of the Assistant Secretary for Preparedness and Response at the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services (HHS), the Innovative Medicines Initiative (IMI) funded through the EU Horizon 2020 program, and the National Institutes of Health (NIH) at the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services (HHS).

Regulatory Submissions & Status Today’s European Commission Marketing Authorisation decision follows the positive opinion in May 2020 from the CHMP of the EMA[16] and the granting of an Accelerated Assessment for Janssen’s investigational preventive Ebola vaccine regimen MAAs by the CHMP in September 2019.[17] The MAAs are supported by data from eleven Phase 1, 2 and 3 clinical studies[18] evaluating the safety and immunogenicity (ability to induce an immune response) of the vaccine regimen in more than 6,500 adults and children aged one year and above across the U.S., Europe and Africa17 preclinical studies, and immunobridging analyses comparing the results of clinical and preclinical efficacy studies.

Discussions with the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) have taken place to define the required data set for filing US licensure.

About Janssen’s Ebola Vaccine Regimen The Janssen preventive Ebola vaccine regimen, Ad26.ZEBOV and MVA-BN-Filo, utilizes a non-replicating viral vector strategy in which viruses – in this case adenovirus serotype 26 (Ad26) and Modified Vaccinia Virus Ankara (MVA) – are genetically modified so that they cannot replicate in human cells. In addition, these vectors carry the genetic code of several Ebola virus proteins in order to trigger an immune response.

Janssen’s vaccine regimen originates from a collaborative research program with the NIH and received direct funding and preclinical services from the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases, part of NIH, under Contract Number HHSN272200800056C. Further funding for the Ebola vaccine regimen has been provided in part with federal funds from the Office of the Assistant Secretary for Preparedness and Response, BARDA under Contract Numbers HHSO100201700013C and HHSO100201500008C.

The IMI provided funding through the IMI Ebola+ Programme to support a number of consortia that initiated multiple clinical trials and other vaccine development activities. The consortia funded by the Innovative Medicines Initiative 2 (IMI2) Joint Undertaking are EBOVAC1 (grant nr. 115854), EBOVAC2 (grant nr. 115861), EBOVAC3 (grant nr. 800176), EBOMAN (grant nr. 115850) and EBODAC (grant nr. 115847). This Joint Undertaking receives support from the EU’s Horizon 2020 Framework Programme for Research and Innovation and the European Federation of Pharmaceutical Industries and Associations (EFPIA).

Johnson & Johnson also acknowledges its many strategic partners in the ongoing global clinical program for the vaccine regimen, including Bavarian Nordic A/S, Centre Muraz, College of Medicine and Allied Health Sciences (COMAHS, University of Sierra Leone), Grameen Foundation, Inserm, Inserm Transfert, London School of Hygiene & Tropical Medicine (LSHTM), Wellcome Trust, Coalition for Epidemic Preparedness Innovations (CEPI), Uganda Virus Research Institute (UVRI), University of Antwerp, University of Oxford, Université de Kinshasa (UNIKIN), Vibalogics GmbH, Walter Reed Army Institute of Research (WRAIR), World Vision Ireland, The Ministry of Health and Sanitation Sierra Leone, Republic of Rwanda Ministry of Health and the Democratic Republic of the Congo Ministry of Public Health and all the people who participated in clinical trials during the Ebola epidemic in West Africa and the DRC.

About the Janssen Pharmaceutical Companies At Janssen, we’re creating a future where disease is a thing of the past. We’re the Pharmaceutical Companies of Johnson & Johnson, working tirelessly to make that future a reality for patients everywhere by fighting sickness with science, improving access with ingenuity, and healing hopelessness with heart. We focus on areas of medicine where we can make the biggest difference: Cardiovascular & Metabolism, Immunology, Infectious Diseases & Vaccines, Neuroscience, Oncology, and Pulmonary Hypertension.

Janssen Research & Development, LLC and Janssen Vaccines and Prevention B.V. are members of the Janssen Pharmaceutical Companies of Johnson & Johnson.

Learn more at www.janssen.com. Follow us at @JanssenGlobal

About Johnson & Johnson At Johnson & Johnson, we believe good health is the foundation of vibrant lives, thriving communities and forward progress. That’s why for more than 130 years, we have aimed to keep people well at every age and every stage of life. Today, as the world’s largest and most broadly-based healthcare company, we are committed to using our reach and size for good. We strive to improve access and affordability, create healthier communities, and put a healthy mind, body and environment within reach of everyone, everywhere. We are blending our heart, science and ingenuity to profoundly change the trajectory of health for humanity. Learn more at www.jnj.com. Follow us at @JNJNews.

Notice to Investors Concerning Forward-Looking Statements This press release contains “forward-looking statements” as defined in the Private Securities Litigation Reform Act of 1995 regarding the EC approval of our Ebola vaccine regimen. The reader is cautioned not to rely on these forward-looking statements. These statements are based on current expectations of future events. If underlying assumptions prove inaccurate or known or unknown risks or uncertainties materialize, actual results could vary materially from the expectations and projections of the Janssen Pharmaceutical Companies and/or Johnson & Johnson. Risks and uncertainties include, but are not limited to: challenges and uncertainties inherent in product research and development, including the uncertainty of clinical success and of obtaining regulatory approvals; uncertainty of commercial success; manufacturing difficulties and delays; competition, including technological advances, new products and patents attained by competitors; challenges to patents; product efficacy or safety concerns resulting in product recalls or regulatory action; changes in behavior and spending patterns of purchasers of health care products and services; changes to applicable laws and regulations, including global health care reforms; and trends toward health care cost containment. A further list and descriptions of these risks, uncertainties and other factors can be found in Johnson & Johnson’s Annual Report on Form 10-K for the fiscal year ended December 29, 2019, including in the sections captioned “Cautionary Note Regarding Forward-Looking Statements” and “Item 1A. Risk Factors,” and in the company’s most recently filed Quarterly Report on Form 10-Q, and the company’s subsequent filings with the Securities and Exchange Commission. Copies of these filings are available online at www.sec.gov, www.jnj.com or on request from Johnson & Johnson. None of the Janssen Pharmaceutical Companies nor Johnson & Johnson undertakes to update any forward-looking statement as a result of new information or future events or developments.

References [1] The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. 2014-2016 Ebola Outbreak in West Africa. March 8, 2019. Available at: https://www.cdc.gov/vhf/ebola/history/2014-2016-outbreak/index.html Last accessed June 2020. [2] World Health Organization. 2020. Ebola Health Update. [online] Available at: https://www.who.int/emergencies/diseases/ebola/drc-2019. Last accessed June 2020. [3] Winslow RL, Milligan ID, Voysey M, et al. Immune Responses to Novel Adenovirus Type 26 and Modified Vaccinia Virus Ankara–Vectored Ebola Vaccines at 1 Year. JAMA. 2017;317(10):1075. doi:10.1001/jama.2016.20644. [4] Leigh B, Ishola D, Manno D, et al. Safety and immunogenicity of a 2-dose Ebola vaccine regimen with Ad26.ZEBOV and MVA-BN-Filo in a Phase III clinical trial in Sierra Leone - ECCMID Live. https://www.escmid.org/escmid_publications/escmid_elibrary/material/?mid=66307. [5] Janssen. Janssen Vaccine Technologies. Available at: https://www.janssen.com/infectious-diseases-and-vaccines/vaccine-technologies. Last accessed June 2020. [6] Thiebaut R, Snape MD, Goldstein N, et al. Safety and immunogenicity of 2-dose Ebola vaccine regimen with Ad26.ZEBOV and MVA-BN-Filo in a phase II clinical trial in Europe (EBOVAC2) - ECCMID Live. https://www.escmid.org/escmid_publications/escmid_elibrary/material/?mid=66570. [7] Janssen Data on File. Ebola vaccine_ participants DRC Rwanda. June 2020. [8] Milligan ID, Gibani MM, Sewell R, et al. Safety and Immunogenicity of Novel Adenovirus Type 26– and Modified Vaccinia Ankara–Vectored Ebola Vaccines. JAMA. 2016;315(15):1610. doi:10.1001/jama.2016.4218. [9] Anywaine Z, Whitworth H, Kaleebu P, et al. Safety and Immunogenicity of a 2-Dose Heterologous Vaccination Regimen With Ad26.ZEBOV and MVA-BN-Filo Ebola Vaccines: 12-Month Data From a Phase 1 Randomized Clinical Trial in Uganda and Tanzania. J Infect Dis. July 2019. doi:10.1093/infdis/jiz070. [10] Mutua G, Anzala O, Luhn K, et al. Safety and Immunogenicity of a 2-Dose Heterologous Vaccine Regimen With Ad26.ZEBOV and MVA-BN-Filo Ebola Vaccines: 12-Month Data From a Phase 1 Randomized Clinical Trial in Nairobi, Kenya. J Infect Dis. February 2019. doi:10.1093/infdis/jiz071. [11] Goldstein N, Bockstal V, Robinson C, et al. Anamnestic response after antigen re-exposure following Ebola vaccine regimen with Ad26.ZEBOV and MVA-BN-Filo in a phase I study - ECCMID Live. https://www.escmid.org/escmid_publications/escmid_elibrary/material/?mid=66569. [12] Callendret B, Vellinga J, Wunderlich K, et al. A prophylactic multivalent vaccine against different filovirus species is immunogenic and provides protection from lethal infections with Ebolavirus and Marburgvirus species in non-human primates. PloS one. 2018;13(2). [13] World Health Organization. Interim Recommendations on Vaccination against Ebola Virus Disease. Available at: https://www.who.int/immunization/policy/position_papers/interim_ebola_recommendations_may_2019.pdf?ua=1. Last accessed June 2020. [14] Johnson & Johnson. Johnson & Johnson Announces Donation of up to 500,000 Regimens of Janssen’s Investigational Ebola Vaccine to Support Outbreak Response in Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC). Available at: https://www.jnj.com/johnson-johnson-announces-donation-of-up-to-500-000-regimens-of-janssens-investigational-ebola-vaccine-to-support-outbreak-response-in-democratic-republic-of-the-congo-drc. Last accessed June 2020. [15] Johnson & Johnson. Johnson & Johnson Announces Commitment to Support Republic of Rwanda’s Preparedness Against Ebola Outbreak. Available at: https://www.jnj.com/johnson-johnson-announces-commitment-to-support-republic-of-rwandas-preparedness-against-ebola-outbreak. Last accessed June 2020. [16] European Medicines Agency. Ebola. Available at: https://www.ema.europa.eu/en/human-regulatory/overview/public-health-threats/ebola Last accessed June 2020. [17] European Medicines Agency. Committee for medicinal products for human use (CHMP) Agenda. Available at: https://www.ema.europa.eu/en/documents/agenda/agenda-chmp-agenda-16-19-september-2019-meeting_en.pdf Last accessed June 2020. [18] Janssen Data on File. Overview of Clinical Studies Evaluating the Ad26.ZEBOV, MVA-BN-Filo Vaccine Regimen. June 2020.

Media Contacts: Seema Kumar +1 908-405-1144 SKumar10@its.jnj.com

Sarah Smith +44 7920 082012 SSmith49@ITS.JNJ.com

Investor Relations: Jennifer McIntyre +1 732-524-3922

Chris DelOrefice +1 732-524-2955

source: https://www.csrwire.com/press_releases/45404-Johnson-Johnson-Announces-European-Commission-Approval-for-Janssen-s-Preventive-Ebola-Vaccine?tracking_source=rss

[vivianrhopper85]

Shorter, but stronger February in Toronto’s Real Estate Market

Pink Vertigo by Michael Muraz

Despite February 2016 being a leap year with one more day for successful closes on sales, 2017 scored 5.7 per cent more sales. Even one day short, Toronto real estate market activity didn't slow down. TREB REALTORS reported 8,014 sales through TREB’s MLS System, which is 431 sales more than last year's 7,583.

Detached houses and townhouses registered a small rise in sales by 3.0 and 6.5 per cent respectively. The number of sold semi-detached houses dropped by 9.5 per cent. Condominium segment had a great run with 2,360 sales and 15.9 per cent rise in sales. Toronto Real Estate Board President Larry Cerqua commented on new Ipsos survey and what to expect this year:

The February statistics tell me that many Greater Toronto Area households continue to view home ownership as a great long-term investment. The high demand for ownership housing we’re seeing is broad-based, with strong sales growth for most low-rise home types and condominium apartments. This makes sense given the results of a recent consumer survey undertaken for TREB by Ipsos, which found an even split between intending first-time buyers and existing homeowners who indicated that they were planning on purchasing a home in 2017. In the term of price and listings, Toronto is still trying to solve its biggest housing issue. New listings were down by 12.5 per cent on a year-over-year basis. Active listings crossed the mark of more than half of last years inventory being unavailable, with a 50.5 per cent drop.

The average price increased from $685,738 in February 2016 to $875,983 this month, which represents 27.7 per cent in a year-over-year comparison. Detached houses went up by 32.5 per cent price-wise, making it to average price $1,205,815. Semi-detached houses, despite being down in terms of sales, experienced 29.4 per cent rise in average price, amounting to $826,359. The average price for a townhouse increased by 28 per cent to $657,480. Condo Apartments marked the slowest rise in terms of the average price, but still marking high in double-digits. Their average price was $481,194, a 9.2 per cent increase in a year-over-year comparison with February 2016.

Jason Mercer, TREB's Director of Market Analysis concluded that the situation will not change until we can increase the listing rates:

The listing supply crunch we are experiencing in the GTA has undoubtedly led to the double-digit home price increases we are now experiencing on a sustained basis, both in the low-rise and high-rise market segments. Until we see a marked increase in the number of homes available for sale, expect very strong annual rates of price growth to continue.

from News And Tip About Real Estate http://jamiesarner.com/toronto-real-estate/2017/03/market-report-february-2017/

[swissforextrading]

A Valais entrepreneur’s Olympic ambitions

Is Switzerland ready for the gigantic logistical and financial challenge of hosting the Winter Olympics? swissinfo.ch interviews an entrepreneur from canton Valais who believes it is, and who has launched a controversial campaign to bring the games to Sion in 2026. The Porte d’Octodure complex in Martigny houses both the administrative seat of FC Sion, the canton’s emblematic football club, and the architecture offices of Christian Constantin. For the past two years, the complex has also been home to an idea: the dream of bringing the Olympic Games back to Switzerland, which has not hosted them for nearly 70 years. Never at a loss for ambitious – or, according to his critics, overly ambitious – projects, Constantin intends to transform an old Tamoil oil refinery site in the Valais municipality of Collombey-Muraz into an Olympic village… and in the future, into a green city. After former FIFA president Sepp Blatter, Constantin is one of Valais’s most ... http://www.swissinfo.ch/eng/sion-2026_a-valais-entrepreneur-s-olympic-ambitions/42999350?&ns_mchannel=rss&srg_evsource=rss (Source of the original content)

[fireintheforest]

Busted

The Den kitchen was relatively calm, as calm as kitchens can be, before the storm of cooking, cleaning, preparing, boiling and brewing necessary for the nightly shows. That explained the cooks moving around the kitchen and how nobody batted an eyelash when Saufinril and Muraz entered the kitchen, engrossed as they were in their jobs. Saufinril kept looking ahead, purposefully ignoring the orsimer that talked nonstop behind him.

"Saufinril, come on, I-really, are you not going to listen to me? That's your punishment? You're going to ignore me? It’s already been a day, are you really going to pretend like you can’t hear me?" Muraz asked. Saufinril just keeps walking, not even looking at him, until a hand grabbed both him and the unsuspecting Muraz and pulled them aside.

“What the-”

“Gentlemen”. Lillandril’s voice was tight and clipped, and automatically made Saufinril close his eyes in resignation when he identified the voice, “A word.” He steered then towards the nearest open door, leading into a well stocked pantry full of shelves of cheeses, cured meats, etc."Ohhh hey b-ok" Muraz walked along while Saufinril went in complete silence. Lillandril pushed the pair of them into the pantry, pausing only long enough to glare at a nearby cook who had begun wandering in their direction before joining them. Then he firmly pulled the door shut, folded his arms and looked at the pair.

Saufinril put his hands behind his back and averted his gaze. Muraz, however, scratched his arm and said, "Um, good morning, boss. Lovely seeing you, you look great. Did you do something to your hair? New clothes?"

Sau just whispered a "Muraz, shut up"

Lillandril darted his eyes to Muraz and glared for a solid, unblinking minute. “Ah, yes. Our young entertainer. Remind one, are you Magula’s grandson, or great grandson, or...?

"Uhm, that was- yeah she's my mother's great grandmother so you could say-yeah it's long but we're related." Muraz answered.

Saufinril just slowly closed his eyes again. He just wanted to disappear.

“Ah, one sees. So it was, perhaps, maybe three generations ago that any hint of her acumen abandoned your family in favour of sheer idiocy and utter mediocrity?” Lillandril asked

Muraz looked at Saufinril, whose eyes were still closed, before looking back at Lillandril and replying while sounding uncertain, "I'm...not sure how to answer that."

Saufinril, again, just whispered "Then don't, for the love of fuck, don't."

"Everything ok, sir?" Muraz inquired

"Muraz..."

“You tell one, Muraz. You are - or at least claim to be - a passably intelligent sapient. So you tell one. Is. Everything. Ok?”

"...I'm tempted to say yes, sir, but that's just because you see more of this businesd than I do. So you know things I ignore. So my alright is not your alright." Saufinril looked like he wants to slap Muraz right now, but otherwise remained silent. Lillandril made an unimpressed noise, shifting his gaze to Saufinril. “Perhaps you’d like to help your friend? Seeing as he lacks the ability to read a mood - which may explain his lacklustre performances of late. That and an ability far less than his ego would have him believe.”

Muraz opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by Saufinril, who knew well what Muraz had been about to do.

"It's about yesterday, us both leaving The Den for a long while." Saufinril replied. Muraz cleared his throat. "In my defense," he said, "I had to run errands. I don't know why-"Before he could continue, Saufinril turned and gave Muraz a mad look.

"-and I asked him to come with me." Muraz added quickly, at Saufinril's glare. Lillandril continued his dead eye stare for a moment, switching between the pair of them. “And why would that be a problem? Saufinril?”

Muraz stopped looking at Saufinril, Saufinril looked away from the orsimer.

"One shouldn't have left The Den, especially because one has chores to finish here. And not run into Thalmor." Was the young Altmer’s answer.

“And why should you not have left here?” Lillandril asked, “Why were you to avoid the Thalmor? What possible reason could one have, hm, to be somewhat irked by your latest misadventure?”

“To not endanger The Den, or the people that depend of it, or you, or Rialas, or oneself."

"Lillandril, sir, with all due respect, we were gone just for some hours." Muraz said

"Muraz just quiet down." Saufinril whispered, eyeing his friend and hoping he’d take the hint.

“Just a few hours. Hm. And yet in those hours, you managed to disobey one, find yet another brawl, risk the attention of the Thalmor, and show a total disregard for the last conversation we had. Quite the display, no?”

Saufinril dared to defend himself in a small voice: "One didn't exactly engage in a fight, serah-"

"I pestered him to come with me. He didn't want to, he told me he couldn't. I kept insisting until he did." Muraz’s interruption made Saufinril stop in his tracks and exhale. Any chance for this to go smoother had just died with that. Lillandril snapped his eyes to Muraz. When he spoke, his voice was raised and contained a bite of anger. “You pestered him. You insisted. As if you absolve him of any responsibility. You have also intruded into a matter that does not concern you. Allow one to make it clear: one cares little and less for you. You are here only so one can make it abundantly clear to you quite how badly you sit in one’s displeasure. When one tells somebody - one’s ward and charge, no less - to remain in the Den, one expects that to happen. One does not expect to be ignored and undermined by a selfish, spiteful, conceited little toad such as yourself. You are nothing to one; you are a performer, one of a thousand, forgettable, needy, desperate. Your arrogance and self assurances are misplaced. Were it not for the fondness one holds for your distant forebear, you would be lucky to be allowed to beg outside the door of this place. You are feckless, lazy, entitled, and above all else, a bad influence. The last thing you wanted to do was to draw one’s attention to you, because you simply lack any quality that can withstand it. You are inconsequential. Trivial. Forgettable. Nothing. And you are exceedingly lucky that one is telling you this rather than simply having you thrown into the night. Do you understand?”

Muraz nodded with complete seriousness and even a dash of fear visible. Saufinril himself bit his lower lip, silent and unmoving. Lillandril allowed the quiet to linger just long enough to be uncomfortable before pointing a finger at Muraz. “Consider yourself lucky you are only being sent to the kitchens for a month. In that time, you will not set foot on the stage - or indeed, in any public areas. You will spend the month scrubbing, and cleaning, and cutting, and boiling, and any other menial tasks the chefs have for you. You will be in the kitchen, ready to work, at dawn each morning, and you will not finish until you are told you may leave. And you will thank one every day of that month, because your forebear would have tanned the hide from your back and thrown your bloody form into the night.”

"Un-understood. Yes, yes sir" Muraz’s voice revealed more of the fear he had.

“Good. Now get out.”

No need to say that twice. Muraz turned and left without even looking at his Altmer companion. Saufinril stayed in silence, gaze still averted from Lillandril, who stared at Saufinril, not saying anything, content to simply wait. There was the barely concealed sound of gossiping whispers from outside, in the kitchen. After a while, Saufinril cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I really thought it was going to be an hour at most and that nothing would happen. Should've figured I was wrong about that."

Lillandril waited a moment and then sighed. “Quite what one is to do with you, one despairs. You are not as easily cowed as your feckless friend, for one. Neither can one rightly say you could have known this would have occurred.”

"Still, your orders were clear and I chose to follow him. Anything you see fit for me, I'll follow. Strictly this time."

“In truth? It matters less about punishment than it does security. Once, the Thalmor may ignore a troublemaker - and yes, that is how you will be seen. Yet a familiar face being seen again? Tis reason to look more closely. As we discussed, such scrutiny bodes I’ll for you and one both.”

"I know." He waited a second, then finally looked at Lillandril, curiosity unable to be contained in his green eyes, "How did you know about this, serah?"

Lillandril offered a small, conspiratorial smile. “How does one know about anything? One has means.”

"That is scary." Saufinril took a hand through his hair, exhaling. "It...might not be because of punishment, and I understand. I should've stayed inside, and- I don't want my words to get cheapened by apologizing and then doing it again, serah, but I really am sorry. It should've been quick and I'd be back here but nonetheless history repeated itself and...I'm sorry."

Lillandril nodded slowly. “That, at least is something. The fact remains that it would be safer were you no longer in the city for a time. And that it behooves one to be seen, at least, to punish disobedience.”

"So...I'm to go back to Cyrodiil?"

“No.” Lillandril reached into his pocket and drew out a key, which he extended to Saufinril. Saufinril took it, looked at it over and then looked back at Lillandril as he asked, "...is one banished to the cupboard for the rest of the month or..."

“Don’t tempt one. But no. That is the key to one’s home in Lynpar Marsh - that is, the town that birthed one’s flame hairs succubus, and where his family yet lives.”

Saufinril looked up at Lillandril, some puzzlement seeping through in his facial expression, "Lynpar Marsh?" That far away??

“Tis remote enough to be safe from Thalmor eyes, while serving as exile too. And as coincidence should have it, one’s bee brained brother in law has been waiting for one to send him a shipment of goods from Hammerfell he requested - which arrived here but a few days ago.”

He didn’t have much room to protest when he’d dug this grave. Saufinril gave the smallest of sighs, then nodded. "Lynpar Marsh it is. What kind of shipment?"

“Imports from Hammerfell. One scarce recalls, ‘twas some nonsense about bees and the health of the hive. One barely listened. Oh, yes. While one recalls. Should you set off tomorrow - which you will - you should reach the Marsh in time fir the harvest seasons. All kinds of swamp insects and plants and the like will need to be collected, preserved, dried, so forth abd so on. It seems something you should help with, no?”

Yeah, the message was clear. Saufinril nodded. "Yes, serah. One will. Insects, huh?"

“Insects. Fish. Water plants. Arachnids. Alligators. Various eggs. So forth and so on. Do try to avoid getting swamp mud on the rugs. Importing replacements is costly abd a bother.”

"Noted. Why water plants? One thought the Pact kept people from using them."

“It’s a matter of debate. You’re best not asking about it.”

"Alright. One leaves tomorrow, then." Saufinril looked at Lillandril, "Is one free to go?"

Lillandril offered a soft smile before moving to the side, allowing access to the door. “You are. And please - if your friend asks, One was terrifying and you are being banished from one’s sight because one can’t stand the sight of you. It will not do him any harm to live with a dose of fear for a bit.”

Saufinril returned a small smile, "Noted. You're furious, one is in exile. That'd be more than enough with him."

“Maybe add some dramatics? Glowing fingers with drawn magic, a manic gleam in one’s eyes, various threats involving a Daedroth?”

"Fear for one's life, begging, voice of thunder, all that?"

“Exactly. One does have a reputation to maintain.”

"Alright, yes. One can do that. Should one add the cupboard as a jail one narrowly escaped from?"

“Please. It adds menace. Gravitas.”

"Will do. Thanks, serah." Shouldn’t be hard to keep this reputation, what with what Muraz saw mere minutes ago and the fact that Lillandril had fought more monsters and thieves in one month than Saufinril had in all his years of travelling. He went to open the door, but stopped, then turned to Lillandril again, "Seriously, how do you find out about these things? Muraz and one didn't argue that loud yesterday. Or at least as far as one knows."

Lillandril smiled more broadly and folded his arms again, raising a brow at Saufinril. “Are you surprised? Not as much as one was to discover about your liaison with that strapping Nordic chap, round the back of the Temple of Dibella, no less.”

Oh, that was low. And also had left Saufinril’s memory. Saufinril opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. And pressed his lips. Nope, nothing he could say could erase that fateful day. Lillandril continued to smirk, adding in an eyebrow wiggle for good measure. “Or that business with that Imperial cartel trying to secure certain jungle products for their drinks...”

"That was empty flirting, it never went beyond anything, despite appearances. Or rumors. Or anything anyone saw."

“Uhuh. So that wasn’t you clinging to the bottom of the cart that left the city after dark during the Festival...”

It was him. "No. One is a virgin and Danario said nobody would see us in the- oh you mean the cart with the, the time one- one can’t confirm or deny that was one." Yet there was a small smirk from Saufinril’s side. It is obvious how much of a blatant lie this was, “Anyways, like one said- one is a virgin. And an honest, law-abiding one too.”

Lillandril laughed, waving a hand at Sau. “Go, begone, foul liar, before Sanguine himself appears to claim you.”

Saufinril gave him a grin before getting out. At once, he changed his face to a solemn, terrified one when he reached a spot where Muraz could see him, going immediately to get the tables ready for the opening of The Den.

[fireintheforest]

Dull

It’s only 8 in the morning, but the gray clouds that covered the sky, the mist that hung around the ground (and thus created eerie shapes of the trees and homes, only broken by the faint sunlight that did manage to filtrate now and then from between the clouds), and the colder temperatures could’ve fooled anyone into thinking it was well into the afternoon. In one room specifically, in the Den, no sound came at all as Muraz slept, his wild hair rested everywhere in the pillow and across his face. The one thing that roused him from his sleep was two golden fingers that clasped his nose shut. Muraz let out a snort, awakening at once and trying to grab the hand that had done this. Said hand moved away at the last second. Muraz scowled at the figure next to his bed, but upon recognizing it, he closed his eyes again.

“I thought you were gone.” He said in a sleepy voice.

“Well, one was.” Saufinril, who was sitting cross-legged next to Muraz’s bed, said with a smile.

“You abandoned me. I, who lives and breathes just for you! I had no purpose of life with you gone.”

“Do you not get tired of accusing one of that?”

“Well, you don’t get tired of abandoning me.”

“Muraz, one didn’t abandon you.”

“How you lie!” Muraz scratched his hair, “You didn’t even tell me or Amara where you went.”

“One told Lillandril and Rialas, one thought they’d tell you. One had to leave rather quickly.”

“Haste for anyone but your beloved.” Muraz yawned and finally sat down, rubbing his eyes and then turning to look at Saufinril. Only then did he notice the duller skin, the bags under his eyes and the tired but warm smile. His hair was up in the usual ponytail, though a small braid had been added on the left side of his head. And his right hand had bandages in it.

“So…” Muraz moved his eyes away from the hand and back to his friend, “Where were you?”

“One travelled to the Isles. Briefly. There was, um, it was for a family reunion. Something brief.”

“Oh. How was it?”

“Good! It went smoothly. One saw one’s brother again, one’s cousins, aunts, uncles, everyone. One couldn’t go back to Cloudrest, one stayed in Alinor and Dusk but it was really nice. Almost uneventful. A very good experience. It’s good. It was good.”

“Oh, well, that’s good. You look terrible.”

“Indeed. One slept badly in the boat here and nothing at all on one’s way to Elden Root. One is going to greet people and then go sleep. Maybe take a long bath after.”

“No, I meant…” Muraz hesitated as Saufinril blinked, watching him closer. The orsimer, however, shook his head, “Nevermind. If you’re going to take a bath, do it now.”

“Soon. One will take it to soak in it and probably drown. Before that one is going to go see Lillandril and Rialas.” The Altmer began to stand up, followed by Muraz.

“Are you returning to Cyrodiil after this?” he asked

“Not immediately. Technically the money one had to return was used to go to the Isles, so one will stay here, probably do a couple of jobs, save up and then one returns.” He paused, looking away, then added, “Also…one just wants…one…one will stay here longer. One can return to Cyrodiil later in the year. It’s no problem.”

“Are you alright?” Muraz blurted, before realizing what he said, “I mean, you seem…”

“One’s just tired.” Saufinril smiled again, though it didn’t reach his eyes, “Some sleep and a bath and one will be back on it in no time.” Muraz just nodded softly. Saufinril reached a hand to Muraz, hesitated, then put his hand on Muraz’s shoulder, gave it a gentle squeeze, then left his room. Muraz pushed his hair back, then got dressed as fast as he could and left his room.

“Saufinril-” he began, but the Altmer had disappeared. He vaguely heard his raspy voice talking in Altmeris, probably in greeting, before it faded. The orsimer was left wondering if what he had was a hunch on something important or some leftover dreams bleeding into his reality. Nonetheless, he decided to go to the lower levels, to the kitchen, where he knew his mother and Amara were.

[fireintheforest]

Behind the Blue: chapter 4, part 2

There were scorchmarks from magic in the hallways and in one door, and when Saufinril came back he was limping, visibly moody and with a bump and ugly bruise on his shin. He walked past the people that were gossiping in panicked whispers, past the echo of Mama Fro’s commands for calm and the subsequent protocol of the case, past the scorches on the walls left behind from his magic misses, until he got to his room and closed the door behind himself. The shin protested from the strain of going upstairs by sending pulses of pain down Saufinril’s leg, earning a groan from him. The wall where he’d fired first had an ugly smear (hope it wasn’t permanent. If it was, he’d have to hang something or fix it before Rialas saw it). A wave of dread and panic went over him. The intruder had tried to take his grandmother’s earring and Casil’s hunting knife, what did they manage to take? He immediately started to go through his things, counting and looking at each one for damage.

Meanwhile, down in the kitchen, Rialas was half sitting, half laying at table laid out with a typical Bosmeri breakfast of eggs, broth, slices of meats and bowls of insects. He was not the only one around looking displeased for being awoken so early, but unlike most people who would have never have dared to take out their bad mood on him, he had no similar restrains towards other people. Stabbing an egg with his knife and ignoring how bad manners such action showed he pulled the steaming bowl of broth closer and pointed to the closest poor soul with his egg-stained knife.

"You. Go. Get that dumb kynd of mine here. Now."

The lucky winner to deliver the message, a young orc with wild black hair and plenty of piercings on his face, went upstairs to the fourth floor until he got to Saufinril’s room and poked his head on the doorway. The young Altmer was sitting on the ground, breathing deep, a deep scowl on his face and his jaw clentched, his left knee up, his left elbow on the knee to support his head, which rested on his left hand that was clutching his hair tightly. His gaze was lost and had a light mist on his eyes. The right leg was straightened, letting the torn pant leg show the bump and the now eggplant-colored bruise.

Muraz poked his head on the doorway and simply said, "Soo...Rialas wants you. Not sure where Lillandril is so watch your back."

Saufinril softened the scowl, put his hands in his head and exhaled, closing his eyes. His hand wandered to his earring, which luckily he still had.

"Thanks" his tone was flat, but he tied his hair back while getting up (careful with the hurt leg!), took a glance around the room and then walked down to the first floor to the table where Rialas was eating. Rialas stared at Saufinril as he saw him first starting to approach, holding the delicate broth cup in one hand, taking a delicate sip.

"Morning, Rialas." Saufinril put his hands behind his back, waiting for his elder to talk first. Muraz was right, he hadn't seen Lillandril anywhere. He was probably holding himself above in the ceiling, waiting to ambush him or something. He didn´t dare look up in case it was true. Rialas didn't take his eyes off Saufinril, nor did he say anything. He only stared, mismatched eyes, narrowed like arrowheads, showing above the grey rim of the bowl. Saufinril, though he didn't say anything, didn't look at Rialas directly either. He just waited. Rialas set the bowl on the table with great care, then hit the knife deep in the table, so it stood there.

"Explain."

"Someone broke into the Den, to steal one's belongings, and one woke up when it happened. One chased the thief and followed them outside but lost them around the bar near the stream."

"Not. That." Rialas snarked. "I am not fool. I could hear your shouting."

"One was chasing him"

"Yes. Astonishing. You told me that." Rialas rolled his eyes and Saufinril stopped himself from doing the same. "And I said it is not what I wish you to explain."

"Well, that's what happened, one yelled at them to stop multiple times while one was chasing them. One will pay back to fix the damage in the Den, one promises"

Rialas closed his eyes slowly in an eerie gesture that his husband was often observed to do. "Not. That."

Well then I don’t know what the FUCK to tell you, now, do I?, Saufinril thought, his face revealing none of the irritability that was scratching the back of his neck and head.With expression and tone of voice that spoke of effort of restraint as great as balancing eggs on knife edge, Rialas spoke.

"I wish you to explain how you could make such a ruckus, and not bring back the head of this thief."

Oh. Right. This is Rialas we're talking about. Technically, Sau explained why, but the volume was so low, it might as well have been a mutter. Please don’t ask me to repeat it, please dont ask me to repeat it, please d-

A cough came from the doorway. Lillandril stood, arms folded, leaning against the frame. “And when you have explained that, you can explain quite how a penniless and destitute urchin such as yourself plans to find suitable recompense to fix the aftermath of your antics.”

Saufinril closed his eyes. Ah, there it is. The ambush. Saufinril took a step back and to the side to not give Lillandril his back.

"One will find a way, one has found jobs here before and..." he paused, seemingly remembering something, "There's a job that was proposed to one yesterday by a frequent client. It's in Evermor and one will be gone for a bit but it's very well rewarded and one can pay you both back"

Rialas snorted, "I do not need paying back. In money."

Lillandril’s eyebrow twitched. “Frequent client?”

"Well then how does one need to pay you back?" Great. Both parents are displeased. "From the Guild, he's come to the Den for a while."

“That hardly inspires confidence. Especially when considered alongside your track record where men and Mer are concerned.”

Rialas, too, clicked his tongue. "Clearly you need to work more shifts if you don't realize just how many people there are here from the Guild"

"One knows, one knows. It's this Dunmer, his name is Toivon. He's come around some times and last night he told one of this job and the cut is 4000 septims so...."

The eyebrow twitched again. “Dunmer?” Rialas raised both of his eyebrows, looking bit more awake and less grumpy. "The one with the little monkey?"

“Monkey? Oh do tell one that this one’s bad taste has not extended into the realms of pets as well? The last thing one wants or needs is an Imga as a son in law.”

Oh. Right. He has history with Dunmer.

"It's not like that- wait, monkey? No, one is not- an Imga, really? That's offensive" Saufinril said

Rialas looked affronted "I would never call Imga a monkey" he huffed

“One quite agrees. The Imga may well be pitiable and at times disagreeable, but they at least try to better themselves. To equate them to Dunmer besmirches their efforts most assuredly.”

"Point is, one- it's not that kind of agreement." Immediately after saying that, Saufinril seemed unsure, "It's, it's a distraction. In the sense of help for a heist."

"Oh? Tell me more." Rialas said, eyebrow arched, leaning forward to his elbow and pulling his knife off the table with practiced ease. “One agrees.” Lillandril narrowed his eyes slightly. “Tell one more.”

Rialas shuffled over on the fur covered bench to allow his husband space to sit down next to him. Lillandril moved to the bench, keeping his eyes trained on Saufinril as he sat down next to his husband, one hand reaching up in an almost absentminded way to wind fingers through Rialas’ hair. Saufinril seemed to just look more uneasy, but then he exhaled, "It's in Evermor, it's stealing a jewel during a party and they needed someone to provide a distraction while a key to the vault or box (one doesn't remember which) is taken. It's just one night, then one gets paid and one is back here. It's a high society party and with the payment one will pay for the damages."

“High society?” A faint smile played at Lillandril’s lips. “You?”

"One knows. He suggested one pass as an Artist but...that's, well near, it's not...after this break in one doesn't have much choice"

Rialas leaned over to practically flop on Lillandrils lap as he said, "Don't be so judgemental. Any Altmer can fool their way through in man society. I am more worried about the proving distraction"

"Aren't we all." Saufinril muttered

“One would be more concerned he takes you as an example in that regard.”

Rialas grinned, showing rows of sharp teeth. "Have you considered that this is awfully convenient?" Saufinril stayed silent for a second, then gave a shy nod. Lillandril made an agreeing noise. “What precisely do you even know about this Dunmer?” he asked

"Not much." Saufinril sat opposite them and passed a hand through his hair. He’d just dismissed his gut instinct as paranoia, but now… "By the Nine, you think he..."

“One thinks one asked you a question. You recall from your studies, one presumes, that one expects full answers.”

Rialas snickered and reached up to caress Lillandril’s jawline, looking at Sau like a child watching his favourite shadow theatre play.

"One knows- he's from the Guild, he comes here often with either a Nord or a Redguard or another younger Dunmer, his name is Toivon, that's it. He's very private and we've only talked a handful of times. The first time one ever saw him here was the night of the fight one had in the Den some years ago, with an Imperial."

“Quite the endorsement.”

Rialas chuckled and spoke at Lillandril in Bosmeris in a singsong voice "Somebody’s going to get kidnapped…"

Lillandril turned his head slightly to his husband, switching to Bosmeris himself. “If he thinks one is traipsing north to rescue him because he can’t say no to a sunken grey face, he is sadly mistaken.”

A bite of irritation nibbled at the back of Saufinril’s head. He’d lived with them in Valenwood for years and they still spoke Bosmeris in front of him, as if he couldn’t understand it. Even though he managed to not roll his eyes at them again, he slipped out a snappy "One is not getting kidnapped. And one didn't sleep with him. Nor one plans to."

“You very rarely plan it. If people planned it, it would be rather dull.”

"Kynd. Use the brain poor atta has tried to hammer in you yes?" Rialas laughed, still petting Lillandril’s jawline, "This person you know nothing about offers you easy convenient work. Away. Oh only you can do it. And then this little thing happens. So you feel like you have no choice" Rialas laughed. "It’s so convenient it's hilarious."

"Fine but to be fair, you are a better candidate for it, anyone is and one told him" Saufinril replied.

Rialas preened and chuckled. "So why exactly did he need you hmm?"

"He said the Breton eat up anything Altmer. One suggested you, serah, but..." he eyed Lillandril cautiously, "he said the Bretons look for something younger."

The eyebrow twitched again. “Ten generations of supreme lineage, to be insulted by a Dunmer. One should curse his name immediately.”

Rialas laughed. "And why was I rejected? Because I am not Altmer? Like men could tell the difference."

Oh by the Nine, why.

"Something about...you know-yeah, it was that. That it was perfect, you were perfect, but not Altmer"

“Oh? Whereas one is Altmer but not perfect? Too ... old?”

"He acknowledged you have experience and are an Altmer but...yeah"

“Hm. So it’s his charm and grace that is tempting you north?”

"Assuming this is a ploy to get one kidnapped, one has gotten out of situations like this. One escaped the Isles and crossed Tamriel with just 20 years of age. One has broken out of jails in Cyrodiil. One's got this. And if it's a true, actual job, one has the money to fix this at once versus all the jobs and time one would need to get it paid. It's not his charm, it's money"

"You're not going anywhere before we meet this Toivon.” Rialas said as Lillandril added a “You escaped the Isles and crossed Tamriel to be attacked by Dunmer, break into one’s home, and require one’s assistance and tutelage.”

"...but one escaped."

“So he lacks any redeeming features? Has no true personality to speak of? The extent of his virtues goes no further than his coin purse?”

"So far?"

"I cannot believe you are leaving us for coins.” Rialas interjected

"One is going to come back! One is not leaving anybody." The temptation to roll his eyes was too big.

Then it was Lillandril who spoke, “Which would make you ... well, it’s not for one to disparage those who chose the path of the courtesan. You, however, lack those requisite skills to claim that title.”

"Y'ffre knows it is not my fault he has not learned." Rialas mentioned

"One is not going as- you know, courtesan would be a good role for the job"

By now, the older Altmer was now talking to his husband in Bosmeris, “Auri-el knows, you have tried, one has tried. The boy’s skull is stubbornly thick. He is considering running off with a Dunmer of all things.” Before switching back to Common to tell his apprentice, “If you are going at all remains an open topic of discussion.”

"It hardly counts as running off." Rialas replied, then switched to Common as well, "Courtesan? You want to be courtesan now"

"No! Well, listen if the job is real, yes. One night." Saufinril reassured. Or at least, tried to. The Den owners’ displeasure rose almost at once by Rialas and Lillandril, respectively.

"You cannot be courtesan for one night!"

“One night. Pah. No true courtesan would ever say such a thing. And you are the Altmer this boy chooses? Clearly, his judgement matches his race.”

"One wouldn't be a true courtesan, one knows! It's just pretend." Saufinril’s head was developing a shy headache and the leg was screaming with pain now.

“So you want to pretend to be a conversation - that is, a common whore - and travel the length of Tamriel with a Dunmer boy you scarcely know, to undertake a high risk theft, with little to no pre planning or understanding of the situation, context, or surroundings, all in an attempt to gather money to repay the damages done to this establishment. And you expect us to bless this - one cannot bring oneself to call it a plan – half-baked thimble full of vague notions?”

"...well, when put that way..." Saufinril sighed, "To be fair one was...well, going anyway. It's more like...one was letting you know...where...one was going?"

“Oh, was that what this was? By Phynaster, how did one not understand that?” There it was, the Lillandril sass.

"It sounds sketchy, one knows. But at least one will try, and at the first sign of a trap, one leaves. One considered this possibility, but if it's not a trap, this covers the damages and an extra. At the very least, one can try." Just like Saufinril was trying to convince Lillandril and Rialas that this endeavour was going to be ok.

Lillandril was the next one to talk, “If you have made your mind up, what precisely can we say? Plead you to reconsider? Admonish you till shame turns your mind? One thinks not. If you seek our blessing, one finds it difficult to give. Coming on the heels of a morning where one was awoken by a commotion of your making, and forced to intervene with only a bedsheet to preserve one’s modesty, one rather thinks one might be forgiven for finding this is all somewhat I’ll conceived, rushed, and dubious. If well intentioned.”

"I will never bless that idea either." Rialas spoke, "Should you wish to pass as courtesan, you need help."

“To say nothing of your overall skill set for taking to the road. You have become quite the urban creature of comforts.” He loved Lillandril but this kind of thing was annoying, his job was LITERALLY to travel around finding people and killing them. He literally just came back from the road from Kvatch anddon'tthinkofEramondon'tthinkaboutEramon-

"You need to be bigger than life. Currently you act like you’re hardly bigger than mudcrab." He loved Rialas but that was not true. At least not like it used to be, and it used to be worse. He used to be straight-up scared of Rialas.

“Whilst it is buried in the mud.” Lillandril added

"Alright, so act like Rialas." He said more to cut the list of things he wasn’t than to summarize, but Lillandril interrupted.

“No. You cannot act like Rialas. Anyone other than Rialas trying to act like Rialas is liable to be killed or imprisoned.”

Rialas smiled, smugly, “It’s true.”

"....yes, fair", Saufinril conceded

“And one’s husband is quite right. If you think you are leaving before we at least meet the fiend who is enticing you away, you are very much mistaken. If naught else, one needs to assess his skills so as to decide as to what kind of bound creature to send to watch over you.”

Fuck, he’d hoped that ignoring that part would’ve slipped out of their minds, especially Lillandril’s, "This is not a bridal kidnapping, but fair. Agreed."

“And before you think of sneaking out the city, it will be considerably mite pleasant all round if you volunteer to bring this Dunmer to us, than if one has to either send a Xivali to bring you back, or engage the Guild to speed your return.” Lillandril added.

"He's not one's boyfriend, one will not run off with him like that, one just broke up with Eramon, one is not that much of a hot mess! But alright." Saufinril added the last part before he went off in a frustrated rant.

A raised eyebrow, “You broke up with who now? Was that the Redguard with the tattoo of an anchor on his cheek?”

"You really know nothing" Rialas rolled his eyes at his husband.

"No, that was-that doesn't matter, it was one's-the Altmer one met in Lympar March a while ago. We'd broken up before and then he came and we got back together? The one you didn't like? Black hair?" Saufinril offered, trying to make that spark of recognition go off on Lillandril. Then again the mer was around his 8000s, this might take a while. Come on, how many times do you see an Altmer with black hair? He had to remember that one.

“Saying ‘twas the one one did not like hardly narrows it down. You do show a worrying fondness for trawling through the sluice of life when it comes to your romantic entanglements.” Lillandril observed. Which was uncalled for. True, of course, but uncalled for.

Saufinril passed a hand through his face, "The cocky one. Said he could do Marcie's job better than her. He uh, kind of agreed to a threesome with one without, um, one's consent." A pause, "The one that you said talks too much."

"We need to figure who you are." Rialas said, clearly following his own trail of thought. "You know everyone is different when they are working. We just need to figure out who is inside this shy little Altmer peasant."

“Oh! The screamer? Yes, him one recalls. All of the workers recall him. All of the city recalls him.” Lillandril recalled, his usual sass on his words.

"Good riddance." Rialas said. Then, "Nothing wrong with being screamer. You just need to learn to do better magic to prevent other suffering from it."

“Oh, but was so much more amusing to offer him a gag. One has scarce seen such a shade of red.” Lillandril mused

"Please. He was Altmer. You don’t go red, just... Vaguely orange-y gold."

“The point stands.”

Saufinril rubbed the back of his neck while Lillandril and Rialas talked, proving the point that Altmer turn an orange-y pink tone when blushing. So much for not thinking about him, but to be fair he’d brought him up first. Rialas chuckled and rolled comfortably on Lillandril’s lap like a supple, seductive snake

Lillandril continued, “Regardless. Anything must be an improvement over his wailing. Even a Dunmer. Perish the thought.”

And then Rialas tried it: "Well if I recall didn't you say you once-"

“No one did not.”

"That's not what I remember hearing..."

“You are a notorious fantasist.”

Rialas purred, "I know. And you enjoy it."

Lillandril then turned to Saufinril: “So when shall we expect to meet your co-conspirator? Dinner tomorrow evening, perhaps? One believes that the ribbon dancers are booked for tomorrow evening. The patrons will hardly notice our absence. And one does believe that one spied chef bringing in a rather fetching looking box of sea urchins earlier. We can serve them.”

"Does that mean we will be eating Altmer food?" Rialas asked

“If this one is to play the part of a courtesan, he needs start his remedial studies as soon as possible. Including his table manners and dining choices.”

Rialas huffed. "As long as it is Pact compliant."

"One can ask him, sure" Saufinril just had to wait for the blush to lower before going out to the north exit to tell Toivon today about this.

[fireintheforest]

Behind the Blue: chapter 4, part 1

Toivon’s musings were cut short when he walked out of the Den and went back down the alley passages amidst the roots of Elden Root. Magic spheres, mostly in warm reddish colors, gave some illumination to the otherwise dark tunnels that he traversed until one sharp turn to the left guided him back to the exterior of the roots, in the south end of Elden Root. Looking around, all that was surrounding him were some mer of the night chatting customers, an open bar that had some drunk people outside singing, a couple khajiit muttering amongst themselves, and a cart of street food where Marcello was receiving a little package from. Toivon approached the stall, his footsteps announcing his approach and making Marcello turn to him.

“So we got everything we need, and they got crab legs.” He said proudly, motioning to the tired-looking Bosmer on the stall. He just gave Marcello a bored glance.

“Awesome.” Toivon replied, “And we might have Saufinril.”

“Might?” Marcello’s smile dropped as they both walked away from the stall, “That’s not good. ‘Might’s not good. Didn’t you convince him? Talk him into it?”

“Normally I would,” Toivon said as he grabbed one of the crab legs from Marcello’s parcel and took a bite of the soft flesh that poked out of the shell, “but it seemed like that would just push him away. I told him we’d wait for him ten minutes, then leave. That’ll give him the option of joining us.”

“What?!” Marcello stepped in front of Toivon, “What if he doesn’t join? What if he decides not to come with us?”

“Then it’s on you to go be pretty at the party.”

“Toivon that’s not funny. We need him in-” Marcello lowered his voice and moved impatiently, “We need him in this heist!”

“First of all, I’m well aware we need his help. But like I said, our friend is a little…how do I put this gently… nervous, I guess. The money will be hook enough for now, and we know it’s a lot of money.”

“But what if it isn’t hook enough?” Marcello insisted

“We haven’t needed Saufinril in the past, have we?” with that, Toivon tore a piece of the crab’s leg shell and ate the meat, followed by Marcello and his parcel, to the inn.

 The sky was painted a light blue with streaks of pale yellow by the time the Den had closed, plates and cups were taken back to the kitchen to be washed, floors were mopped, tables and chairs were set up for tomorrow and people abandoned the first and second floors in favor of the private bedrooms in the third, where jewelry was taken off, baths were taken, hair was untied and brushed, makeup was removed, gossip was shared, down time was indulged in, and where the chatter and sometimes pearls of laughter now and then came to the fourth floor, where Saufinril was currently in. He was sitting in his bed, legs crossed underneath him, staring at the bag he’d begun to pack but was halfway (or, more accurately, one-fourth) full as he pondered with his gaze lost. 4000 Septims. Taking into consideration the distance they’d have to travel from Valenwood, the event the heist was taking in, the net worth of the jewel and, assumedly, the skill of all three party members, it was alright. If he did decide on doing this, he had to let Lillandril and Rialas know. Ugh, he also would have to pack up upscale things. Maybe if he raided Muraz’s, CC’s and Amara’s clothes he’d find something. Maybe Marci’s or Huuhna’s, too.

He let himself fall on the mattress. Obviously, the question of this being a trap to him hadn’t skipped past. But if he’d asked if this was a trap to him, then Toivon would know he was suspecting of him. That’s why it was easier to play being halfway sold on the idea and say the trap could be for all of them instead of revealing that he was not sure at all on the idea (even if he had just now considered borrowing clothes from Amara). But if it was a legit thing, then 4000 Septims would come nicely. He didn’t NEED them but…you know…4000 Septims.

He didn’t pinpoint the exact moment he fell asleep, but he knew precisely the moment when he woke up, judging by the leathery hand that was touching his ear. The immediate reaction from fear was to kick their stomach, which made the assailant grunt and fall back. Though it was daylight outside, the curtains in the private rooms didn’t allow much sunlight in in order to let the people inside sleep, not to mention not all the rooms had windows at all, so the darkness shrouded the identity of the person inside Saufinril’s room.

Saufinril immediately conjured a shot of lightning, throwing it at the intruder. The sparks lit somewhat up, allowing Saufinril to only see one fraction of a second the person: they were dressed head to toe in dark clothes, had leather gloves and a sort of mask covering their face. The intruder easily jumped aside from the fire ball, grabbed the evidently heavy bag it had by its side and ran out the room. Saufinril got up and ran behind it, initiating chase.

As he ran behind the person through the hallways, Saufinril figured out details of them. The figure was shorter than Saufinril (then again, almost everyone was) and by the time they reached the stairs, was running them down almost two at a time, and expertly dodging any spells Saufinril threw despite clearly hauling a lot with them. At one point, one of the spells hit the sack they were carrying, making the intruder stagger and drop something from one of their pockets: a very very familiar jagged hunting knife.

“Oh fu- you fucking thief!” Saufinril yelled, leaning down and grabbing the knife as he ran past it, still on hot pursuit of the stranger. They reached the third floor. The yells and the spell impacts had awakened people, who got out of the rooms to peer: groggily at first, then when the thief ran past with Saufinril in hot pursuit, more awaken and curious, though not interfering. The stranger kept running, opening one of the doors wider as he ran past, throwing a chair that was outside, anything to obstaculize Saufinril and block the spells he threw. Someone shrieked as they grabbed their door, the intruder’s hands mere centimeters away from their face when they swung their door open.

“Saufinril-!”

“What’s going on??”

“Who’s that?!”

“Go back to your rooms!” Saufinril called out, aiming and firing a frost spell that was supposed to land on the foot of the thief, but at the last minute said thief cartwheeled out of the way, grabbed the railing with both hands and vaulted over it!

Saufinril got to the railing, peering over, just at the second that the thief impulsed itself up and hit him square in the chest.

“Oof!”

Saufinril staggered back, the thief using his feet already in Saufinril’s chest to jump back, arching their back, and landing on their feet before taking off to the stairs. Saufinril had hit the wall meanwhile, but he took off after the thief once he was back on his feet, now both of them running down to the second floor.

“Saufinril what do you think you are you doing??” Mama Fro’s voice rang from a distance behind him, before the loud talking and panicking of the other workers rose cut her off, all explaining and pointing at the same time. Saufinril didn’t stop for her, rather he unsheathed the knife and threw it at the intruder, missing by a second due to them dropping and rolling. The knife got incrusted to the wall. Saufinril aimed again, this time the frost spell hitting the intruder’s left calf, making it emit a shriek of surprise.

GOOD! This will slow them down. Saufinril ran, reaching out to grab the thief by the hood, just a reach away, just one yank and he’d be able to see who it was at the very least. The stranger ran as best as he could but the frozen muscle was proving to be an issue for them. Saufinril stretched his arm. The stranger leaned forward, running. Saufinril leaned forward too. The last flight of stairs was close. The stranger ran. Saufinril ran. His arm outstretched. Reaching. Being dodged. The mask was close. So close. He could touch the mask. The stairs-

The intruder turned sharply to the railing, grabbed it with both hands and jumped, tucking their legs into their chest mid-jump and then stretching the legs out ahead of them as they released the railing. When they landed, their feet touched the ground, then knees, hands on the ground, they did a roll and ran.

“Fuck-” Saufinril ran down the stairs and followed in the direction the intruder had gone to. How did he get inside, anyhow?? Surprisingly, the thief ran to the front door, unlocked it, and bolted out.

“STOP!” Saufinril ran after the thief, blinking fast from his eyes adjusting to the sun. Which has GOT to be the stupidest fucking thief he’d ever had seen, to have run out of the front door in broad daylight. Still, Saufinril ran after him. People running errands and cleaning houses and businesses both witnessed from the sideways and occasionally moving aside from the chase. The daylight allowed him to see better the suspect: what he thought was a mask was actually a cloth wrapped around the suspect’s head, face and neck. Blue as far as he could tell, since the thief weaseled into as many obstacles as they could.

“When one gets one’s HANDS ON YOU-” Saufinril hissed, trying to reach out again. Instead, the thief turned right suddenly, vaulted over a street stand (gaining a yelp from the owner, who had to duck), and ran to the trees. Saufinril had to stop to keep himself from running into the stand, then ran around it, following the thief. The dense foliage made it harder to keep his gaze on his prey, but the sounds of quick footsteps ahead of him gave him an idea of where he was when tree branches hanging low got in his vision. The muscle seemed to have regained some of its old strength back, because the thief was running faster than a while back. Saufinril pushed the branches away, not caring where they went. The followed party would also push branches back to swing at Saufinril’s face, but he managed to avoid (some of) those. The terrain of rocks and roots sticking out didn’t help much, either.

The person took a wild, left turn, but their footing was off and their left foot slipped, tangling with the right one. Now was the time. Saufinril shot a paralyzing spell, which hit them square in the lower back. They emitted another yell, and arched their back as they fell. Saufinril turned left and grabbed their glove!

His own footing slipped as well, the ground was soft, he turned too close to an edge and he hadn’t realized. The speed of his run allowed him to keep turning despite him not wanting to. The only thing he was grabbing on to was the glove, and the more he turned the more it slid off until it was completely in his hand. He expected to land on the ground as it approached his vision camp, but didn’t; instead, what he had mistaken as ground covered in leaves disappeared underneath him. His arms flailed to grab something, his hand raked the soil, clinging to it, but when he felt a root under his nails he tightened his grip to it, stopping the fall. His other hand still clutched the glove.

Saufinril felt his shin hit a hard, jagged surface with all the force of the momentum first, raising a sharp immediate pain both all over his shin and in the one point where he’d hit the hard object, forcing out a strangled gasp and yell of pain. Then his whole body slammed itself to the soil wall of what seemed to be a big hole, dug on purpose. A hunter’s trap!

Cursing under his breath from the pain on his shin and resting his forehead on the soil as he did so, he brought the glove to his mouth and bit it to hold it, then used his other hand to cling to the root he was holding on to. He had to bring himself up, but his right shin (the one he’d hit) extended the pain down to his ankle and he was under the impression that his leg was heavy. Using his left knee on the wall, he pulled himself up, attempted to claw up to grab something, failed and had to hang again. He took a couple of deep breaths. The paralysis spell would last some seconds more but he had to get back up now. At least the reigning silence told him the target was still frozen in place. He had to try again.

Left knee on the wall, pull himself up, this time Saufinril reached to grab the same root further up. He was breathing heavily and peering over the edge. The stranger was indeed lying on the floor, but he was also starting to move. Oh gods oh fuck he had to grab him now. His leg pain was shooting up and down like a maniac, he let out a low noise of pain as he kept slowly pulling himself up. He tried putting his right foot on the wall to help with pulling up but the leg protested by sending agony up and down, forcing Saufinril another grunt from the torment and to release the leg from the strain. Gods, hope he didn’t twist an ankle. He was almost sure he hadn’t, but he still couldn’t support his foot. He’d have to make do with arms and left leg. The stranger now emitted a low groan.

By the time Saufinril had both arms well out of the hole and could push himself up, sadly, the stranger was standing up and staggering.

“Nff!” Saufinril yelled in anger, teeth still biting the glove, “Dnnf y drr!”

The stranger took the uncovered hand to their front, took the bag and, without turning back on the Altmer, ran back to Elden Root. Saufinril shot another paralyzing spell, but this one hit the branches. The intruder ducked and kept running.

Sigh. Well.

Saufinril used his forearms to drag himself up until he felt his hips touch the edge, when he pulled up the left knee and rolled completely out of the hole, lying down on the ground. He still held the glove with his teeth, so he exhaled from the chase. Usual jungle noises surrounded him. His right pant leg felt like it was too tight, and it was hurting. He sat down, removed the glove from his mouth and set it aside, he then rolled up his right pants leg to see his shin turning painful shades of blue and purple and a bump right in the shin, which was where the most pain was at. No blood on sight, though. Saufinril got up, testing how much weight his leg could sustain. He hissed in pain when he tried putting all his weight on both legs as usual, so he limped his way back.

[fireintheforest]

Penance, part II

Skrit, skrit, skrit, skrit.

“What do you think Lillandril told him?” Muraz asked Amara as they observed Saufinril cleaning the main floor of the den with a brush, mainly the area that still held stains of blood and rotmeth from last night.

“Obviously told him what he did was not fine. Obviously upset about the fight.” Amara replied, her hair up in a silk headwrap and wearing her red silk robe.

“Yes but what else?” Muraz asked, “When he stepped out, he looked like he’d just seen a ghost. Do you think he’s getting sent back to the Isles?”

“What is it with your obsession of Saufinril returning to the Isles? He went and came back, didn’t he?”

“Getting sent to a far away place, to learn etiquette. Wherever Altmer go to learn that. And he returns and he’s got no heart so he doesn’t love anymore. Because it was fed to a daedra in exchange for power.”

“If you just spoiled Farida’s second part to me just now, I’m throwing you down the stairs. Also, you damn well know he’s not like that.”

“Fine, but what happened. What did he say. This is the second time this year that these guys are killing me with their suspense!”

“Learn. Altmeris.”

“Yeah, yeah. Amara, what if the guy he beat up was an important customer and he sues the bosses, and we have to close the Den? My great-grandmother’s ghost will haunt me for the rest of my life! And what if Saufinril gets thrown in jail?”

“Well, he has been to jail before, hasn’t it? I…don’t think we’re getting sued nor that that guy was anyone important.” Amara had sounded uneasy at the possibility of the Den closing, however, “In any case, he’s survived jail. It’ll suck, but he’s survived it.”

“But he’d ran into Thalmor, Amara.” Muraz whispered, “And Thalmor jail is worse than jail jail. You go in, you don’t go out. Everyone knows that. I’ve heard they send their prisoners out when they’re going to be executed because here you have to eat people when they die and they don’t want that, they toss them in mass graves!”

“Muraz, that is disgusting.”

“I’m not the one tossing people in mass graves! In any case, what if Lillandril told him to run away to avoid the Thalmor from seeing him when they bust in but he’s compulsively cleaning out of guilt?”

“He doesn’t- well he did wash every single plate, pot, utensil and glass in the Den that one time.”

“What if it was actually-what if they’re members of a cult or secret organization and this was all according to the plan, to some plan, and Saufinril has to pretend it was bad but he actually got initiated and is actually really proud? Look at him! Two days ago he had this…this vague air of a living dead and now he’s scrubbing like his life depended on it. It’s because he became a member!”

Amara slowly turned to look at Muraz, “….by beating someone up in an establishment, Muraz? Also rotmeth stains are damn hard to remove.”

“What if ‘ran into’ the Thalmor is more like, code for joining? Like he tried to tell us but couldn’t tell us? What if someone in the Isles recruited him and he’s doing a mission and Lillandril was talking him out of it and-Oh Amara, oh, Yffre. Amara, remember when we found his room empty? What if that ginger guy was the guy he was seeing Kartan behind his back with, remember? The guy he wanted to marry instead of Kartan? What if the wedding never happened. What if the ginger guy left him at the altar and that is why he returned, and he ran into him twice yesterday and the memory of being humiliated and dishonored and having lost Kartan was what drove him to beat him up, because the guy was also being a jerk-Amara don’t give me that face, he came to the Den and asked for Samin, ok? Right in front of the mer that was willing to ditch everything for love, for him and-”

“First of all,” Saufinril’s voice made them both turn and see that the Altmer had stopped washing and had been listening for a while, “one would never in one’s life join the Thalmor. That’s preposterous. Second, one can hear you two from here. And third, one never cheated on Kartan, Muraz.” that last sentence came out as a particularly nasty snap towards the orsimer.

“You touched a sore spot with K-a-r-t-a-n.” Amara whispered, going to the stairs and followed by Muraz.

“How was I supposed to know he could listen? Also didn’t they break up like, 3 months ago?” Muraz replied quietly. They both got to the main floor, where Saufinril continued cleaning. His tone of voice and expression were back to normal when he looked at them and said,

“You have the nerve to wake up this late.”

“Look who’s speaking about nerve! The brawler. In the middle of shift, of the Den, no less! And to a customer!” Muraz pulled out a seat nearby and sat down, “What was that about, anyways?”

“Rich of you to talk about our waking up hours when two nights ago you’d still be sleeping at this time.” Amara added.

“The man.” Saufinril replied, pointing to the back of his neck and ignoring Amara’s observation, “He came back, pissed one off and…well the rest is history.”

Muraz’s eyes widened. “He came here just to pick a fight with you?”

“No, maybe he didn’t know one was here. But in any chance, one handled it poorly.” Saufinril went back to washing. Muraz observed him and asked, “So…about Lillandril…”

“About him?”

“He took you away so fast, and with how you looked, one thought you were going to pick a fight with him too-”

“No! Muraz, never. With him? Never.”

“I know, I know. I’m just saying, I feared you were going to keep letting your fists fly.”

“What Muraz is trying to say,” Amara interjected, “is that we’d like to know what Lillandril told you last night.”

“Yeah. Well, one wouldn’t ever fight him. If anything,” Saufinril dipped the brush on the soapy water and continued, “one almost wet oneself when one saw him. He just wanted to talk.”

“Yes, but about what?” Muraz urged.

“It’s private.” Saufinril replied vaguely, “And if one sits and tells you all about it, one won’t have time to beat the bedroom rugs, which are a lot and some are nasty as Oblivion. Like yours, Muraz. Probably yours.”

“You’re no fun, you don’t tell me things anymore.” Muraz protested, crossing his arms and leaning back, “I want a divorce. Come on, he literally yanked you away and then you stepped out looking like you came out from a funeral. I need to know. Also, what were you thinking, getting in a fight with someone in the Den?”

“Don’t go there, come on.” Saufinril protested, stopping for a second, “One already got sermons from Amara here and your mother right after Lillandril’s talk. One doesn’t need another one.” Amara just gave him a sweet smile.

“Ok but what did Lillandril say!” Muraz insisted, then stopped, eyes wide, “He didn’t kick you out, did he?”

“Muraz, would he be cleaning the Den if he’d gotten kicked out?”

“You got put in servitude?” Saufinril turned to glare at Muraz, “Ok, ok. Sorry. Don’t beat me up. He said something to get you out of that studio looking like that. Was it bad news?”

“Umm…sort of.” Saufinril moved the container with soap and water to another section that had the liquor and blood. Amara and Muraz both approached.

“I’m guessing it obviously had to do with the fight. The one in the Den. Did you tell him about the market one?” Amara asked

“One had to, yes.” A dip and the brush was back scrubbing the floor.

“Did you tell him of the you-know-who?” Muraz asked, “The guys…them….those?”

“Thalmor, Muraz. Yes, one told him. One had to.”

“And?” Amara asked gently. Saufinril sighed and scrubbed harder, “And one caught their attention and then had a bar fight, do you know what would’ve happened if they’d been patrolling nearby, heard a commotion, gotten in and seen one? And started digging their noses where nobody asked them to? We’d all be screwed because of one. Particularly,” he lowered his voice, “particularly Lillandril and Rialas. And one.” His tone of voice went back up, “So that’s what we talked.”

There was a silence until Muraz broke it with a, “So…you’re grounded.”

“One is 228, one is not grounded.”

“Why are you cleaning the floors?” Amara asked

“Because, Amara, this mess,” he pointed the area around, “was what one made and one has to fix it.”

“Ok, then why are you cleaning the carpets after this?”

“Because tasks like these are not just to fill some ‘oh one is grounded and one will finish this stupid punishment so one can go back to bullshitting again like usual once one’s guardians aren’t mad anymore’ quota. When someone does something wrong, it’s correct to apologize and fix the mistake. One apologized and one has to make things right; not just with cleaning away the shame that one’s actions brought to Lillandril, Rialas and the Den, but also to regain their trust. Everyone’s trust. One handled both situations poorly and that put Lillandril, one and everyone here at risk, and one has to take responsibility for it and reform. One’s slip could’ve caused real damage to people one cares about, and we’re lucky that so far, the Thalmor haven’t rained down on us because of one’s carelessness.”

Amara nodded solemnly. Muraz gave a “huh” and then asked, “Then why did you refuse to let me go with you when you went to see Hekla and Armi at the tavern after the rouge incident and instead sent me to clean all the dishes?”

“Well, because you were grounded.” There was a minute of silence and then Saufinril dumped the brush at the water and continued washing, “Alright fine, one is grounded. But it doesn’t erase all that one just said. One really has to reform from this. That was a shitty way to handle things. One could’ve just had any other bartender take his order and gone clean tables or something. One could’ve just tried to keep the peace and left when that pig’s bodyguard stopped the fight.”

“In any case, you both discussed catching the Thalmor’s eye.” Amara summarized, “Don’t be too hard on yourself. I don’t think they’d be interested in raiding some bar when they have other matters at hand.”

“Yeah, so. In other news, last night before the incident, mother told me there’s a new girl here.” Muraz said

“Really? Name?”

“I don’t remember, I didn’t care. She starts today in the evening, she’s probably sleeping.”

“Do you think she saw the fight and was like ‘oh good riddance, I’m out of here. I’m not working in the bar with the Oblivion Crisis in it’ and legged it?” Amara joked

“’Oh thank you so much for this job opportunity-oh nope. Nope. Bye.’” Saufinril joined in

“How long do you think it’ll take her to realize Rialas is the owner of the Den and not some high-end courtesan only for important customers?” Muraz wondered.

“Is this a bet?” Amara asked, turning to him, “because we need to settle the one about Saufinril. In any case, I say two weeks. Give or take.”

“One week.” Saufinril chimed in, “She can’t be that stupid. Also what is this about a bet with one?”

“No, but Ria could interfere. So I say a month.” Muraz said, passing a hand through his hair, then he stopped when he saw Saufinril’s bruises in his arms and the busted knuckles and chuckled. Saufinril turned to look at him and asked, “What?”

“The bruises and your arm,” he pointed at Saufinril’s arms, “it’s all blue and yellow. Like, just blue and yellow. It’s how you see. We’re seeing how you see.” Amara looked at the Altmer’s arms and immediately started to laugh along with Muraz while Saufinril watched.

“You both are so funny.” He said sarcastically, as they laughed, “A comedy duo.”

“Saufinril, what color is this?” she pointed to her robe, and laughed as Muraz did too. Saufinril gave them the middle finger, unable to hold back the grin anymore, and went back to scrubbing.

[fireintheforest]

Fight

The door to the Den opened one hour earlier from its normal opening hours. A Redguard woman and her Altmer companion entered, both talking in what at first sounded as an argument.

“-just how you get hit by a rock and don’t feel the blood!”

“Amara, one is fine, it’s nothing. One has had worst.”

“Didn’t you check?”

“One did, it wasn’t bleeding and it doesn’t even notice. You didn’t see it until one tied one’s hair up.” The pair went up the stairs and to the bedrooms, continuing the conversation.

“So you were just going to let it go on?”

“Of course not, one didn’t even know it was there.” Somewhere amidst the various people getting ready for the night in makeup, jewelry, perfumes, silks, leathers and laces, Rialas’s laugh ringed above the noise.

“Let me see it.”

“Amara, you already saw it. One is fine.”

“Let me see it again, I just got a brief glance.”

He rolled his eyes, but nonetheless entered Amara’s room, followed by her. He got on his knees, bowed his head and moved his hair forward, his hands keeping it from sliding back.

“Don’t touch one’s hair, though. Please.”

“Not gonna…” Amara’s reply wasn’t completed, but she added “Huh so…it looks ok? I mean, I can see the cut and you’ll have a bruise for a bit. But it’s not bleeding.”

“Of course not. One told you one was fine.” He stood up and pushed his hair back, “Get ready, one will do the same. One will wash it off, change one’s clothes and it’ll be like nothing happened.”

“If you say so. See you out there.” Amara replied as Saufinril stepped out of the room.

 Having that happened some hours ago, at the present moment Amara was talking with customers while Saufinril was with the bartender. Jagga after jagga after jagga got served at the bar while the acrobats made their alluring number to an awes crowd. Saufinril had just gotten back to the bar after cleaning some tables when Muraz slid to him.

“No.” Saufinril replied at once

“Hey-oh, you rude little thing! I hadn’t even told you what I need.”

“One just needs to guess. Are you going to, let’s see, sneak out and need one to distract your mother?”

“No. For once, no.”

Saufinril put the pitcher down, eyebrows arched and a grin in his face.

“Well, look who is growing up!”

“Oh, shut up.”

“When are you paying taxes?”

“The day you stop rubbing charcoal on your eyes. You look like a spectre.”

“Excuse you, but it took one a good while to master the art of makeup and one will not be disrespected or antagonized tonight by a child.”

“It took you long and all you came up with was that?”

“Begone, whore! What do you want?”

“What is this that I hear of a battlewound?”

“Pure lies, because one hasn’t had anyone suck one’s neck in a while.”

“No-you call one a whore while your mind parties in the gutter. Obscene mer. You and your filthy morals. Step aside, lest you dirty my innocence.”

“What innocence, how dare you? Saying that with a straight face, as if our professions had swapped.” Muraz laughed, and when it died down, Saufinril served a patron and continued, “Some…man threw a rock at one just because one collided with him.”

“What were you looking to achieve with that?”

“Nothing! It was an accident.”

“Oh. He threw a rock?”

“Yeah, like an animal.”

“What did you do?”

“One was going to fight him but the ninny had bodyguards, plus got the Thalmor on top of one. Imagine, the brat threw one a rock and stepped back for his guards to deal with it!”

“What a fool. Hey, it’s not that I don’t think you couldn’t take him and his friends easily, because you could, but I’m glad you got stopped. Lest you got in bigger trouble.”

“Mmh. So, slow night?”

“Looks like it.” Muraz looked around, “Amara seems to be luring those sailors, and Elias is upstairs with a marriage, but otherwise it’s slow.”

“But one saw some people-”

Saufinril was interrupted when Lienil turned to him and exclaimed, to hear herself above the chatting and music, to take an order back to a table by the 3rd row from the stage.

“Coming up!” Saufinril pulled the glasses and started to serve the drinks. Muraz went on, “Did you tell the boss? Or Rialas?”

“No, it wasn’t that big of a deal. One’s bruise will heal in two days or so and nothing else happened from it so it’s not important.”

“Fair enough.” Muraz observed Saufinril prepare the drinks and set them on a tray before asking, “Hey, I need some advice-”

“Ah, um-let one deliver this and then one will be back to listen.” Saufinril picked up the tray and moved towards the table indicated (and he did not feel a bitter tug when he realized the table he had to serve was the table where Kartan dumped him), where he started serving the 2 jaggas and 3 rotmeths. The table had two Breton men, one female Bosmer and two male Dunmer. The Bosmer, the second she saw him, gave him a smile.

“Thank you, dear.” She had a nice, light voice, “Not that many Altmer that aren’t Thalmor in here, hmm?”

Saufinril not only chose not to answer, but was also beat to it by one of her male companions, who leaned towards her and whispered to her ear.

“Let him be, Nasli. Focus on the thing at hand, please? For once.”

The Dunmeris on the other end of the table caught his ear. Maybe he was rusty in it, but he thought he caught some words like “believe her?”, “No”, “fake wounds” and “father”. Saufinril did a quick glance to her wrists (indeed wrapped in bandages) and then a discreet glance at the Dunmer as he served the drinks. They didn’t look like inexperienced scoundrels nor sound like common brutes, so chances are they were with the Guild. The first Dunmer had both sides of his head shaved, probably to show off the Valor tattoo in the left side of him. He also possessed a sharp nose and big eyes. The other Dunmer looked older than the first, his hair reached his shoulders but that didn’t keep Saufinril from noticing the scar that went from the right side of his neck, under his jaw, to the front towards the collarbone. Nor did it keep him from seeing the sharp cheekbones.

“So!” The younger Dunmer said in Common, turning to the other three people and looking interested, “Greenheart, huh?”

The sudden change from quiet Dunmeris to cheerful Common made Saufinril look at the Dunmer again, only to run into the older Dunmer’s gaze looking at him directly. He’d probably gotten too close for the Dunmer’s taste and was uncomfortable with the proximity. But that was a nice, sharp eye shape he had. Saufinril placed the last drink, “Anything else one can help you with?”

“That’d be it, thanks.” The other man replied glumly. Avoiding the Dunmer’s gaze, Saufinril gave a quick nod and turned around, leaving at once. He still felt stares on his back but acted like it wasn’t so, heading to the bar.

 Indeed, the last Dunmer had held his gaze while the waiter walked away. The Dunmer’s sight lowered from the Altmer’s head, to the hair, then shoulders, back, lower back and the….jackpot. Nice.

 Muraz was not at the bar anymore, so Saufinril went on to clean tables. Half an hour later, back at the bar, he was setting aside some empty bottles of rotmeth when he heard someone ordering behind him:

“Hey, a bottle of jagga and a rotmeth. Move it, come on. I don’t have all night.”

Saufinril turned to snap back at the rude customer.

“Well look!” the ginger Imperial sneered, an arm around Samin, the Bosmer girl with the slanted, fully black eyes, “Should’ve recognized you from that bruise. Hopefully you’re less of a klutz while working. Move it! Unless I tell your boss and get you fired.”

M’Azina, another bartender, caught that and just scoffed quietly under her breath at that before moving back to the customer she was attending. The ginger adversary was surrounded by two other men, both Breton, (none of which were the bodyguards from earlier) and two other girls that worked here.

“Well? Move it!”

Saufinril pulled out a vase he had at hand, then placed it in front of him so it was between himself and the rude man. He took the bottle of rotmeth, opened it, served the liquid, put it away-

“Approach it to my hand! Do you expect me to reach all the way there and grab it? I’ll look like an idiot! You suck at this job. You can’t do anything right. You high elves claim racial superiority wh-”

He was cut off when Saufinril grabbed him by the hair and slammed him headfirst into the glass, which broke with a clashing sound, sending rotmeth and blood flying. Samin yelled and stepped back, as Saufinril lifted him again and slammed him a second time. The adversary, having been caught by surprise, grabbed Saufinril’s wrist but the third slam to the table and glass came anyways. One of the ginger’s companions threw a punch at Saufinril, who dodged (while pressing the ginger to the table, who was screaming at the top of his lungs) and punched the second man with his free hand. He staggered and hit one of the Dunmer from the earlier table that were on their way out, making its mohawked companion punch the man. The older Dunmer grabbed his buddy’s shoulder, starting to instruct him not to do anything, when the man punched back. Then the older Dunmer punched the human.

Meanwhile, after Saufinril had punched the man that was now fighting two Dunmer, the ginger escaped his grip, causing Saufinril to jump over the counter . In less time than Lienil expected, around 6 people were fighting at the same time-no, wait. Seven. An Argonian got involved and her two other mates were trying to stop her, the Dunmer had ganged up on the man, the other man had run out of the Den with a bloody nose, and Saufinril was beating the ginger while yelling in Altmeris like he was possessed.

“Nuh-uh! No!” Mama Fro’s voice came over the chaos, “Rialas, get your husband!”

Rialas, however, was more invested in egging the fight on from the balcony that oversaw the Den, his laugh ringing like a bird’s call in the forest.

“The legs! Throw him to the ground, kynd, the legs!” he yelled. Indeed, the next moment the ginger was on the ground and Saufinril was straddling him. Punches and kicks hit his body all around, bit his biggest focus was on punching, scratching, slapping, hurting the Imperial’s body while he held his hands up in protection and called for help.

“Saufinril, no!” Muraz yelled next to him, pulling him up even as the Altmer resisted.

“I’m dying! Help! I got attacked!” the ginger wailed. The fight thinned; the Argonians dragged their friend out and back to their table, Lienil was kicking the Dunmer out and the other human took to helping his ginger friend up.

“He can’t even stand up!” Rialas laughed. When he saw the adversary stand up and limp to the exit, Saufinril wiggled free from Muraz’s grip. Another hand, nevertheless, grabbed him firmly by the arm. Saufinril turned to snap at whoever had grabbed him to let him go, only to run into Lillandril’s stern blue eyes.

[fireintheforest]

Theories

Amara was a young Redguard woman whose hair was always tied back with a scarf or ribbons to keep it out of the way. That Fredas, it was set free to cascade down her back in the usual curly way, with a crimson band pulling it away from her smooth mahogany skin. She pushed a stray hair aside as she reached Saufinril’s room and knocked a couple times, waiting for someone to tell her to come in. When she heard nothing, she repeated the knocking.

“Hey, Saufinril?” she asked, then entered, “Sorry to barge, but do you think you can-” she stopped when she saw the room empty.

“Yeah, he’s not there.” Muraz said, behind her.

“Had any errands to do? Or a job or something?” she asked, turning to him

“Probably, you know I don’t pay mind to that.” Muraz said as he shrugged, rolling his eyes carelessly. However, he mouthed a quick “Wait til I tell you!” with widened eyes before returning to a nonchalant tone, remarking “I’m sure he’ll tell us when he’s back.”

Amara arched her eyebrow, but nonetheless replied “Swift.” And entered the room, followed by Muraz, who closed the door.

“So, what happened?” she asked, “Did he get arrested, like that time in Silvenar?”

“Shh! Sauf-I heard it at night. I was on my way upstairs to ask mother about Riza’s number and I heard Saufinril and Lillandril talking, oh you should’ve heard! There’s these whispers, and Saufinril talked and talked but he sounded, he sounded so unsure and then there’d be a silence and Lillandril would speak a phrase or two, and it went on like that for a while. I didn’t pay it much mind until this morning when I came to throw water at him for taking my ring but he was gone!” Muraz whispered

“And?” Amara asked, “What was it about?”

“Who knows? You know I don’t speak Altmeris”

“Oh for oblivion’s sake!” Amara sighed, “The one time we need it the most!”

“It’s not- nevermind. The point is, it was a long, serious conversation and next thing we know? He’s gone.”

Amara looked around the room, biting her nail on her thumb.

“Whaddya think happened?” she asked, her voice volume lower.

“I know- and you didn’t hear this from me- that he had this little paramour, some Bosmer. He asked for his hand-”

“NO!”

“SHH! But yes. I think they had to keep the relationship hidden because he was acting all suspicious about Lillandril or Rialas seeing them. I think Rialas knew but didn’t approve because he’s wary of this new mer, so he called it out and Saufinril broke up with him. What if the rejected lover did something to him?”

“Saufinril knows how to take care of himself. Plus it doesn’t explain the conversation.”

“It does if he had to go into hiding?”

“Maybe he just had to return to Cyrodiil? He did say he’d stay for a bit here and then he had to go back.”

“Right after the breakup? And with how serious it sounded? Doesn’t make sense. Allow me to tell you a more rational theory: Lillandril found out via Rialas and told Saufinril that this was a crazy idea and disapproved along with Rialas. They had the conversation, which was probably Saufinril trying to explain his love and Lillandril just refuting it. Saufinril saw that this was going nowhere and he ran away. Never to return. Because that sweet dear lover actually murdered him and took all his gold and his hair. His ghost will roam the crime scene, restless, until someone brings him the head of his betrayer and whispers that he’s free.” He whispered this last part solemnly, his eyes wide. Amara arched her eyebrow.

“This is the last time I let you read my ‘Tales of Farida’ book, are you listening to yourself?” she smacked him on the shoulder, “That made no sense, Saufinril leaving forever? Getting killed by some douche?”

“Hey! Fine. But he always tells us when he returns to Cyrodiil, so he’s not there.”

“Maybe he got called for a job and he had to leave soon. I mean, look at his room. He’s not the tidiest but this level of mess isn’t him either. He packed quickly.”

“A job where he had to talk somberly to Lillandril? Hardly.”

“Well, Lillandril has a lot of experience. Maybe he went for advice.”

“Maybe…or, someone is blackmailing the Den owners and Lillandril sent Saufinril. And he succeeded, but he was seen and had to leg it.”

“Have you seen any ‘Wanted’ posters of him?”

“No. Not yet, who knows? OH! Maybe he had someone else other than the Bosmer. He broke up with whatshisface because he said he wasn’t ready for marriage. Maybe that was a lie, maybe the one he wanted to marry wasn’t that mer and he ran away with him.”

“Muraz, no.”

“What other theory could it be?! He would’ve said goodbye otherwise, he always does!”

“Well, we can ask him whe he comes back!” Amara replied, sitting on Saufinril’s bed. Muraz copied her, sitting by her side.

“…what if he doesn’t come back, though?” he asked. Amara shook her head.

“He always does. Don’t think like that. Even the time in Silvenar, remember? He was late four days, we were worried he’d died, but it turns out he was just serving some time.”

“Fine, but let’s say he doesn’t this time? I mean, why would he leave like that, without telling us? Just all quiet and packing at night and leaving?”

“I don’t know. You can always ask Lillandril. Speaking of, why haven’t you asked him?” “YOU ask him. I, uh, sort of did something yesterday.”

“What did-no, nevermind. I don’t want to know. You are so lucky Saufinril covers your ass with every stunt you pull.”

“Indeed.” They sat silently for a bit, observing their friend’s room, until Muraz spoke again.

“He got taken by the Daedra. Or by a cult. No, he joined the cult.”

“Really? Him joining a cult? You know he’d never do that, right? He’s done some stupid things like jumping from the roof to the ground but that’s something he’d never do.”

“He saw something and went insane. His job turned him paranoid, Lillandril tried to talk him out of some self-induced delusion of a murder conspiracy on him but was unsuccessful and now he’s running around Valenwood out of his mind.”

“That’s chapter 5 of my ‘Tales of Farida’.”

“Saufinril is actually married, never told us, his husband came and he had to flee because that marriage had gone sour and brought terrible memories. But the husband followed, Saufinril had to warn Lillandril, and while running away the husband caught up on him and they had a terrible fight we’ll never find out about. Both of their ghosts will continue to fight each other in the forest for the rest of time.”

“Chapter 9”

“He left us to become a bard.”

Amara opened her mouth, then carefully closed it as she narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to the side. Then she asked, “No. Dancer, maybe. He does dance. But bard…I can’t see it.”

“I can. A zither. And he’ll sing those depressing songs he likes.”

“No, I still can’t see it.”

“I can. But fine, I’m willing to bet Saufinril had to run away.”

“I say he just had to leave quickly to Cyrodiil. 25 Septims.”

“Deal.” Muraz stretched, then stood up, “What are you doing here, anyways?”

“Hm? Oh, I was going to ask him if he could go pick up a comb I’d ordered some days ago, down at the market. And since he’s not around, do you mind going for it?” she stood up as well.

“What’s in it for me?”

“Amasi got me the second part of ‘Tales of Farida’, I’ll let you read it first.”

“There’s a second part?! By Y’ffre, done! That thing-”

“Comb”

“-will be here in twenty seconds, on my mother it will be here!” he left swiftly the room. Amara straightened her skirt, looked around the room once more, and then followed the orsimer out.

[fireintheforest]

Thieves

Almost two weeks after the Den incident, Saufinril was washing dishes on the back while his mind wandered to anywhere. Which, let’s face it, was always much more interesting than scrubbing the same damn pots and pans clean over and over again. You know, now that Muraz brought it up, when was this time of servitude going to-

He shouldn’t be wondering about this, he scolded himself as he scrubbed the pan harder. He almost started a fight in front of the Thalmor and then actually started a fight with a patron of the Den. If Lillandril saw fit for him to keep washing dishes and the rest of the Den for months, then so be it. Once the dishes he had had been washed and set aside to let the excess water drip, Saufinril went back to the Den to clean tables and pick up any leftover glasses and dishes. It was an average night in the Den: people joking, talking loudly, employees of the Den with prospective clients or serving liquor, money entering and leaving in gambling, shows live for entertainment.

“Hey! Could you tell us-”

Saufinril turned around to who had spoken to him, only to see the two Dunmer from last time. The young Dunmer with the Mohawk immediately lit up as if he’d seen a deity in front of him. The other Dunmer’s gaze went from somewhere around Saufinril’s back to his face.

“Oh hey! You’re the bartender!” the young Dunmer said

“That’s one, yes.” Saufinril replied

“Yes no yes no no yes yes yes, the one of the other night!” the client insisted, “That was a strong punch you packed!”

Oh great. Sweet. Wonderful. Excellent. Perfect. He watched the whole thing. Of course he would, didn’t he punch that jerk’s friend right into him? He’d gotten involved in the fight Saufinril started, him and his friend.

“That, yes that was one.” Saufinril said with a shy smile, then changed the topic, “What can one get you?”

“Two jaggas is fine. Hey, but you didn’t get in trouble because of us, did you?” the older Dunmer turned his gaze to his companion as Saufinril cocked his head to the side, prompting the younger Dunmer to continue, “I mean, because we kind of joined the fight.”

“Oh, no.” Saufinril replied as he shook his head, “That was on one, one started it. It had nothing to do with-no, no. No no no.” The younger Dunmer gave him two thumbs up. “Two jaggas coming up.” Saufinril said before leaving. The younger Dunmer now turned to his companion.

“So, this job.” He began. His friend watched him, corners of his mouth tugging up in amusement, “So what if –and hear me out on this one ok- what if I’m the one that goes, you stay as lookout. One in, one out, less than 15 minutes. 15 minutes tops. We know that lady’s routine anyways. We’ve studied it for a week. We take it, we leave, you get the original percentage and I get the thrill and job experience. It’s a win-win situation. Whaddya say?”

“You really want to do this, huh.”

“I am ready, I am so ready, you have no idea. Toivon,” the younger Dunmer rested his upper body on the table, as if reaching for his companion, “I don’t want to be lookout anymore. I’m in the Guild as much as you are. And-and I know there’s a reason you put me there, like, lookout-ing and all. But you’re like-like-like a cat, man, because I never know what you’re gonna do and I never know why you do the shit you do!”

Toivon still had a slightly amused face while he let the other Dunmer continue, but didn’t seem convinced. At that moment, Saufinril came back with the two jaggas, which he placed in front of each of them.

“Anything else you’d like?” he asked.

“We’re good, thanks.” Toivon replied. Saufinril gave a brief nod and went back to cleaning tables. The younger Dunmer drummed his fingers, looking at Toivon with expectation.

“A nimble little thing for a pesky little job.” He pitched tentatively as Toivon drank from the jagga, “If I fail, I go back to being a lookout until you say so. No protesting ever again.”

“It’s not that.” Toivon said, then eyed his friend, “Fine, Marcello. You win.” Marcello threw his fists in the air, “This one is yours. Fair warning: if you get caught, you’re solo.”

“Yeah no, totally, don’t worry about it.”

“Alright.”

THE FOLLOWING NIGHT…

The dead of the night in Valenwood was only called as such for the purpose of illustrating the fact that it was late at night, because the reality was that the noises of both the Bosmer and the jungle reminded everyone of how alive the Green was. Chirping, squaking, laughing, talking, humming, sighing were some of the sounds that could be heard around a typical Elden Root house, with the exception of two very well concealed Dunmer hiding in a dark alley between a tavern and another home. Two sets of ruby eyes were set on the house that was behind the tavern. The front door and lights had closed not too long ago, and the lights had been turned off.

Toivon turned to Marcello. “You ready?” he asked. Marcello gave him a confident nod, “Get in, then. Two whistles call it off.”

Marcello gave him a wide grin, then went around the corner to the left, from which he did a cartwheel to approach the chicken’s coop, pulled himself up the coop, did a handstand, turned the handstand into another cartwheel, grabbed the window edge, pulled himself up and jumped in with legs bent underneath him and making no noise whatsoever. Toivon just rolled his eyes. “Showoff.” He muttered.

After around 15 minutes, Toivon started to get impatient. Where was Marcello? They both knew where the pipe was. It was in and out, what was taking him so long?

The containers and cases of the tavern made for a nice hiding spot for Toivon, but for a moment he considered climbing the tavern to see if there was trouble around. Toivon peered around the corner, checking to see if any guards were coming, then turned back to the house to give out the two whistles. Just in that second, though, Marcello’s figure leaped out of the window with a backflip, landed on the chicken’s coop, then made an aerial from the coop to the ground, a cartwheel to the corner and went back to Toivon.

“Must you do your circus tricks-”

Marcello pulled out a silk red pouch decorated in fine embroidery of carnivorous plants and a lace ribbon tying it together. He opened it and pulled out an ornate traditional Bosmeri smoking pipe: made of a bone, polished and with more carnivorous plant designs on it.

“Got it!” he beamed

“Put it back in the pouch, don’t flaunt it yet. We’re still outside. There, let’s go.”

With that, both Dunmer turned the corner and walked away from the house, with Marcello looking back now and then while Toivon walked like it was just another night stroll for him.

[fireintheforest]

Next door

It was just more comfortable to hang out at one of the private dormitories than at a communal one. And between Muraz’s and Saufinril’s, the Altmer’s was a bit more organized. Plus, he had the laundry he had to fold and couldn’t be dragging it all around the Den. So this was the reason for Amara to be lying down on Saufinril’s bed, butter tea next to her and nibbling on a sweet cake while in front of her, Saufinril was folding bed sheets and Muraz was smoking some feet away from Amara. Now and then, some noises and words came from the communal room next to them, where some of the workers of the Den slept. So far it sounded like there were two girls talking, since some lines of dialogue could be caught here and there, such as “so I told him…”, “Right!” and “my point is…”. Muraz eyed the pile of laundry next to the Altmer.

“When does your cleaning maid sentence end, by the way?” Muraz asked

“Haven’t asked yet, but if this place wasn’t clean before, it is now.” Saufinril replied, “And laundry. Just, laundry. The one thing one hates to do the most. Laundry.” He folded the sheet and put it on the tower behind him before grabbing another sheet and spreading it. On the room next to them, a third feminine voice came to the room and asked, “Hey, has anyone seen my beetle comb?”

Amara lazily turned to the entrance for a second, then resumed on her cookie. Saufinril made sure there were no wrinkles and started to fold as the roommate on the other side replied something. Saufinril turned to Muraz and said, “Could you go put these back in the rooms? Some are yours.” Just as third person in the other room said something in a joking tone of voice.

Before Muraz could reply, the voice that had spoken first harshly replied, “I don’t care about that comb and I don’t care about that bitch!!”

All three in Saufinril’s room grew silent. The pitch, the stern tone in the voice, the choice of words, that was Samin alright. And this meant she was in a bad mood. Always entertainment material unless it was hurled at you. Amara sat down, Saufinril folded slower and Muraz almost didn’t dare to breath out the smoke, rather letting it flee out through his lips without a noise.

Someone in the room sighed and said, “Samin, it was just a joke.”

“Of course it would be.” Samin retorted, “Just like those crooked eyes of hers.”

None of the three could help either widening their eyes or arching their eyebrows at the sentence. Saufinril started to get up but Amara waved her hand at him, whispering a “Don’t get involved! You’re already in trouble as it is.” And pointed at the laundry. Saufinril clentched his teeth but got back down and kept folding. Crooked eyes, the only one that had anything like “crooked eyes” was Mia, a small Bosmer (yes, even for a Bosmer she was small) that had a slight eye deviation on the right one.

“So she took it.” Samin hissed

“No!” Mia replied, “It was just a joke, really. I’m sorry. Just, leave Huuhna out of this?”

“You’re taking her side now?” Samin asked

“She just wants some peace, Samin.” The third girl said. There seemed to be some silence, at least the shuffling in the other room went on as Samin looked for the comb and Mia and the other girl resumed their chatter. Saufinril went back to folding until he heard Mia ask something along the lines of “fight” and “saw it?”

“Saw it?” Samin piped in, her anger out of her voice, “Girlie, I was there. He just grabbed his head and slammed it to the table. No show that he’d do it either. Like cats. One second he was just staring and the next he was at it.”

Saufinril looked up and at his friends, who also seemed to have gotten caught up in the gossip.

“Don’t-go check if there’s someone out listening.”

“You check, Ariela.” They heard some shuffling sounds, footsteps, silence, then footsteps back as Ariela replied, “No, nobody’s here. I think Saufinril is downstairs doing the laundry.”

“Laziest check ever.” Muraz muttered, gaining a quick nodding from Saufinril in amusement. Someone opened what sounded as a heavy trunk, then closed it and Samin’s voice came, saying “I was with a client, he just went wild. He grabbed the guy from the hair,” she lowered her volume, so they could only hear her voice. Now and then they heard words like “blood” and “punched” and the other two’s interjections that they attempted to keep low but sometimes couldn’t hold back, including one of Mia’s small shrieks.

“And that’s why he’s…” Ariela asked

“I think so.” Samin paused for a second before saying in a low voice that almost disguised her words, “And then he jumped over the counter and got him on the floor just like that? It was really hot.”

Amara, who had been sipping from her butter tea, instantly almost coughed out loud and sprayed it. Neither Muraz nor Saufinril had enough time to dwell in Samin’s words, because the first one immediately went to cover her mouth and tap her back to help with the coughing while ensuring their secrecy while Saufinril yanked back the sheet that was spread in front of Amara to keep it from getting dirty again. All three were holding back a laugh they didn’t dare let out. Saufinril was the one that put his finger in front of his lips, trying to make the quietest “shh” ever as Mia’s voice covered their struggling silent noises as she spoke.

“Nobody is saying he’s not a good guy.” Samin explained, “Just that, in that moment…yeah.” She laughed, “I was not expecting that.”

“I do agree on that. Do you think he’s over males now?” Ariela asked. Saufinril had his mouth slightly agape, Amara’s eyes were red and watered and Muraz was battling both putting his pipe down, still tapping Amara’s back and holding back more laughter.

“That’s not something you’re ‘over’, Ariela.” Samin replied

“Sure it is. My cousin only dated women until she found her husband.”

“That’s different. That’s like, that’s like…that’s like S’Nair or Muraz.” Mia added

“The Green has many ways to show itself. So does love.” That rare nugget of wisdom from Samin earned a nod from Sau. Amara, who was no longer choking from the butter tea, sniffed as quietly as she could, wiping her eyes. Muraz released her and took back his pipe, inhaling from it. There was another shuffle and then Ariela asked, “Do you think he needs healing?” a little too enthusiastically.

Saufinril threw his hands in the air, shaking his head with a face of disgust. Muraz and Amara, however, again tried to hold back their laughter, Amara nodding like crazy.

“No!” Saufinril whispered. Amara just grabbed Muraz’s hand and gently rubbed his knuckles before kissing them tenderly.

“Shut up!” Saufinril begged almost silently again. Amara now released Muraz’s hand and grouped all her 5 fingers together on each hand, creating two hand puppets, and made them kiss each other. Muraz had to sit down to laugh without any noise. Saufinril grabbed a nearby crumpled shirt and threw it at Amara, who dodged it, then continued spreading the sheet nicely and folding.

“Anyways, Lillandril mustn’t have been pleased.” Mia replied

“Hasn’t been since he married that toad” all three widened their eyes and let their jaws drop, looking at each other like idiots. Saufinril stopped mid folding. That had been Samin. Mia said something in a very low volume, almost scared, but Samin snapped back, “So? Who does he think he is? Some king’s courtesan? Please. He’d be the next Samin if he didn’t look like such a fish. Or act like a ” Saufinril put down the sheet and took both hands to his mouth. Amara could only mouth “By Tava!” Muraz just turned to them and whispered, “You know he’s listening” to which his friends nodded.

“Why do you talk about him like this? Didn’t he give you the job you have now? What did he ever do to you?” Ariela scolded. The searching sounds got blunter, as if Samin were looking with more force (and conveniently avoiding answering that question). Finally she exhaled with exasperation and said, “Who the fuck took my comb??”

“I thought she didn’t care for it?” Amara asked in a whisper. Saufinril rolled his eyes and Muraz replied silently with a, “It’s Samin. She cares.”

“I don’t know.” Mia replied honestly, “Didn’t Cece play with it the other day?”

“It was Huuhna.” Samin interrupted Mia, “Actually, I recall Amara telling me she’d seen Huuhna take it. That tramp probably sold it.”

Amara opene her mouth in disbelief, then mouthed a “I never said such a thing!” to her companions. Saufinril just made his index finger trace circles vertically near his ear.  

“Why would she take it?” Ariela’s question sounded more like she wanted Samin to realize her accusation was stupid than actual intrigue of Huuhna’s alleged crime. There was silence until they heard a violent sound of a trunk getting kicked and then footsteps storming out of the room.

“Samin, wait!” Mia called. Then there were shuffles and a second set of footsteps running after. The room next to them was in silence until Ariela gave a long sigh, there was shuffling, and her steady steps went out of the room, down the corridor and then it went silent. Only then did the other three occupants of the room burst laughing.

[fireintheforest]

whats muraz like? I love orcs and would love to know more about this overdramatic orsimer

One has been, one could say Muraz is like a childhood friend of one in the sense that he was born when one was 205, so one has seen him grow up. Muraz gro Frolagha is the Den’s mother’s son, but he’s the second child. He has an older sister, Bakhi (named after their mother’s grandfather) who one also met and watched grow until she decided the pirate life was her thing. But one digresses.

 He’s very fun to be around, he speaks the first thing that comes to his mind, which sometimes is just complete buffoonery and one can’t help but laugh. And he doesn’t take himself too seriously, he’s someone easy to have fun and hang out with. Because of this he can also be somewhat impulsive and say or do things he later regrets.

Like you said, he has a flair for the dramatic and he has no problem using his imagination to spin tales, which can prove tricky sometimes because he loves gossip but one is sure that if he decided to write books, he’d be very popular. 

One has also seen that he’s someone that will listen closely to what you say and has a good memory to remember it. Plenty of times he’s brought up details of past conversations that you might not even remember having told him. But you did, and he doesn’t forget that. He’s interested in really knowing you and he loves to be social.

On the downside, he does tend to be irresponsible sometimes, and has a knack of making promises that he later doesn’t deliver and somehow one always ends cleaning his mess (this includes, but is not limited to: 4 girls claiming at the same time they were pregnant with his child, the time he promised himself to an orgy and one almost ended being the guy there, three Bosmer asking for their money back from a cards debt, among others). Admittedly it’s a quirk of his that makes one roll one’s eyes, but he’s young. He’ll probably grow out of it. Especially if he wants to be Den Mother that badly (but between you and one, one thinks Bakhi has a higher chance of getting that title).

What else can one tell you about him...one suspects he’s half Redguard. And one can tease him with this but it’s because deep in one’s heart one thinks he’s really not completely orsimer. That guy frequented Fro too much to not be his dad. He likes his jewelry in silver. He’s pretty strong, physically; one time he almost accidentally knocked one down the railing and nobody lets one forget the screech one let out. He’s also cheerful and has a shelf dedicated to candles alone, for reasons. We’ve gotten into arguments before, usually it’s just some petty stuff that we forget about after a bit but in the moment neither likes to back down. We roughhoused here and there before until the time he fell down the stairs while we were at it and he dislocated his shoulder. After that, never again. 

He’s overall someone one is happy to have in one’s life even if his speeches of his forever faithful love to one are getting longer and sappier.