Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20191209000634/@comment-25828117-20191210195331

Scaldor saw an old crone looking at him from a booth. Her upper lip looked like the cliffs on the gold coast just by how many wrinkles it had. She drank from her cup and a bit of foam accumulated around her mouth. She licked the patches of skin that would be her lips clean. Her gaze seemed to look right through him. Most of the clientelle seemed to be on the older side. That was probably why the atmosphere was so comfortably quiet. "The True Faith?" Lysilde repeated. "Yeah. The bald fellows that go around the city hunting Daedra Worshippers." The innkeeper explained with a face that clearly said what he thought about that. But what could he do about it? World was going to shit. The count was doing nothing even while he pretended to still have some say in matters. "You best not get on their bad side miss. They have a mandate to punish those that walk outside of the light. And it's a very narrow beam of light at that..."