Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-17114085-20150830164226/@comment-24736819-20150903035404

"Beautifully done.", Max said to Sad Mirtha. The girl was obviously a bad artist, but Maximus always encouraged his companions.

"Thistle. Samphire. Poppy.", Mirtha replied, clapping her hands together, happily.

"I know, I know. You are probably right...but, I think you got what it takes. If I had any gold, I'd certainly buy it from you.", Max gently tapped Mirtha on the back, which made her flinch.

"Still scarred by that husband of yours, huh? I told you several times that he is not going to be seen again. Anywhere. Or he might be seen everywhere....depending on how much you consider him to be whole if not attached.", the well-dressed imperial shrugged, but it was too late. He had been talking to Mirtha for a long time, though, so it was about time to move on.

He looked around at the Asylum's gardens and its inhabitants, quickly spotting: Big Berfud about to knock down a bee hive; Ashla focused on her own feet and last but not least, the newcomer. Someone who Max wasn't familiar with, yet. Naturally, he decided it was time for them to become acquaintances and headed straight towards the strange wood elf.

"Top of the morning to you, mister...", Max greeted. The elf turned his head, slowly, towards the imperial and frowned.

"Go away, madman. I'm not one of you people.", he spat on the ground near Maximus' feet.

"THAT was NOT very nice, SIR!", Maximus raised his left eyebrow. The elf ignored the crazy man and turned away...or rather, towards Maximus.

"What on...", the elf didn't understood what happened and the dumb look on his face made Maximus chuckle.

Easy one..., the older Fortunnato thought, "Well, it was nice to meet you. Next time try to be more polite. Polite, understood?"

The elf shook his head, still trying to figure it out what happened and dismissed the madman with a hand wave...or so he thought, until he realized he was actually tapping Maximus on the back, friendly.

"Wha...", he froze and Max smirked, turning around and clacking his heels together before walking away.

...

Des lowered his hood and the cloth he wrapped around his mouth.

''War. Madness. This world is lost and quite frankly there is little I can do...''

He chose a table near the darkest corner of the Inn and lit up a candle, placing the map over the table. He was getting close and he knew it.

''Just a few more miles and I'll find you, brother. I'll rid you of this disease.''

He looked around at the other people. The normal people, who didn't knew that the shit was about to hit the continent big time and he envied all of them. Des placed a small pouch of gold over his table to make the servant come by and take his order, which was simple: a glass of water and a large venison steak.

The son of Jyggalag was very aware of the chaos installing itself slowly over all Tamriel. It was difficult to be a half god in such times, but it was frustrating to be a son of the Daedric Prince of Order.