Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-17114085-20170105222240/@comment-24736819-20170211225435

(Don't know, man. Don't you think that Damian's demise would weaken Perien's allied forces, which would, therefore, oblige him to seek support with his wife on the matters of Northpoint? Finally giving her the opportunity to deny him, much like he did to her? I thought it would be better this way, since in times of desperation one would turn to those he refused earlier.)

"Your home? I thought you'd lead us to a powerful mage.", Balin commented, unaware of his rude remark.

Gaelesil laughed, loudly and snapped his fingers, which seemed to be a sign to call for the state's help, since a well-dressed altmer appeared out of the blue.

"Your orders, milord?", the altmer had short, brown hair and grey eyes.

"Prepare the dinning room, Geel, we've guests this evening. I'd love to have a nice roasted hare tonight, accompanied by that wine your sister brought the last time she visited.", Gaelesil gave the orders and the altmer, apparentely known as Geel, bowed before turning on his heels and disappearing into the house.

"Come, Prince, we shall discuss what afflicts you.", the silver haired altmer commented as he led them further into the house.

Gaelesil's home was a weird place, darkness filled most of the rooms inside it, yet once the elf directed himself to a particular place, candles and lanterns seemed to lit up to vanquish the looming darkness which once reigned in that room. The altmer led them to a room of two floors filled with bookcases, a large fireplace, which lit itself as soon as they neared the room, and no windows. There were several cushioned chairs and tables, so anyone who chose to spend a few hours in that room could do it so very comfortably. The elven lord took a sit by the fireplace and gestured for the duo to do the same.

"This is all very impressive, but...", Balin started, but was quickly and rudely interrupted by the altmer.

"But you are afraid to trust me. I can see it in your eyes...both of you, really. Would it comfort you if I tell you we met before?", Gaelesil said in a grimm tone.

"Your master doesn't look satisfied with what he is seeing, Borgus.", the King's unmistakable deep voice came from behind him. The former vampire hunter was truly intrigued about the fact that such a large man could move unseen and sneak up on him, but perhaps it could be that his years had finally caught onto him.

"He is not my master, my liege. We share a deeper bond than that.", the moustached breton replied, without turning around.

"He is your Duke, is he not? Still, what matters is that I know Vladir's sour look when I see it. He is displeased by your training.", Tormund joined the much smaller man at the ledge of the battlements, a place on the exact opposite where the Duke stood watch.

"He is my Duke, yes. But we know each other for a long time and our relationship simply cannot be described by a simple servant-master nomination.", the Dark Tower's castellan avoided once again commenting on Duke Draluc's displeased semblant.

"I suppose hunter and prey would be a better fit?", the King joked.

"A long time ago, sure. Now it would be something like...friends, I guess.", Borgus stroked his moustached, fixating his eyes on the trainees below.

Tormund chuckled, "Now, I doubt Vladir would agree. He is not a man who has friends... Not for a long time."

"For every rule...", the former vampire hunter answered.

"I guess. Still, doesn't look like your friend has a lot of confidence on your plan, Mr. Borgus. I wonder why...", Tormund nodded towards the trainees and then to the slight headshake from the Duke.

"He wanted to be there himself, my liege. The Duke hates the idea of letting other people do what he was supposed to be doing...", the moustached man finally answered, which led the King to shrug and bid his farewell.

Not long after, Borgus felt the presence nearing him and smiled.

"Want to know what the King had to say about you, huh?", Borgus chuckled.

"No, I wanted to ask you why are you sending this men to their certain death. Because you know that they won't be able to defeat Eirearch.", Vladir's cold tone was just as unmistakable as the King's thunderous voice.

"Once the same was said about you and a poor, dimwitted vampire hunter...", Borgus replied, smiling.

"Borgus...", Duke Draluc reprimanded him.

"I am to do as we've done before...and that is why you'll send Dulàn with them. It worked once, it should work again... It is our best bet. So what if those men will die? They will die for the greater good and die honorably.", the castellan replied.

"It is very foolish to believe that an old vampire will fall into the same trap that led him to his undoing before. You would do well to remember that.", Vladir's menacing tone was something that Borgus never got used to and still it brought chills running down his spine to this very day.