Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24685738-20170617000931/@comment-5583506-20170621122517

"Much talk", Shanks said in response to the pesky bickering around the campfire. "Many words. Big words. Yet of so little content and wisdom. This makes Shanks sad, and confused. Writer and masked stranger gnawing at each other. Oh yes. Shanks hears and sees, but he does not understand. Country in upheaval. Dark gods arising from the shadows. Yet their opponents; would-be allies, always at each others' throats, they are. With teeth and nails, and with word, yes, but without wit. Undone we will be. Shanks has seen what lurks beneath. Oh yes, he has."

Torbjorn furrowed his brow at the Khajiit. Catryn believed Shanks' crazed ramblings to be prophetic in nature. He refused to believe that. He simply believed that the Khajiit had at one point in life overdosed on skooma and this was simply the result. Yet whenever Shanks' spoke he always got that tingling, creeping feeling of uncertainty running up his spine which made him extremely uncomfortable. Whether this was due to the fact that he had to listen to someone who was obviously touched in the head, or if he was fearing that whatever came out of the Khajiit's mouth might just be true.



"Go on, lad", Catryn said to Ollie in a tone of encouragement, eager to see how well the boy would fare.