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[Sickle]

(As I have rewritten and renamed Sylphie, I no longer have her Character Sheet but you seemed to have read it so I will not switch out characters)

Sylphie watched out of the corner of her eye as the dunmer approached the counter. The soft padding was something that she was use to hearing from her own feet, the same soft pat that an experienced killer would have. She played with the wine in her cup by swishing it around as she watched the innkeeper who followed the dunmer's command.

The innkeeper brought up a small package, Sylphie couldn't say what was in it , and handed to the dunmer who was out of her vision. Sylphie played no interest in it, although that was quite opposite the case, as she drank the rest of wine. As she placed the cup down she heard the voice that belonged to the dunmer.

"Why Morthal?"

Sylphie stopped for a moment then turned in her seat, removing her black hair from her face.

"I see why not. It's quiet and well away from the loud and rushed streets of other the towns."

 

[Ruthis]

A smile threaded it's way across Ruthis' maw, causing him to narrow his almond - shaped oculars. ​

"I see.. so you're one for the dark." he half - inquired, shifting his jaw back and forth; left to right. An assassin? A thief, possibly? He thought to himself, eying the Nord with a peculiar interest. Ruthis paused, his torn ear twitching. ​

​

"As you're clearly not from these parts.. From where do you hail from?" he questioned, a thinly hued brow rising as he did so. His gaze faltering, he reminded himself of his drink. Looking down at the metal mug intertwined in his thin fingers, he lifted his chin and downed half the Skooma, clearing his throat afterwards. ​