Diab swung his head to Helian with a kind of “huh?” look before he was blasted out of his boots.
The prince was thrown through the awning of nearby stall, then safely caught by a cart of peaches.
"Hold on a minute, here," Diab said, waving his sword between the two elves. Where were the guards? Even in Taneth, a duel with magic would have been illegal.
"Excuse me," Diab said, elbowing his way through, "excuse me."
Taking advantage of the Prince's distraction, he rushed Sheogorath, swinging that mass of twisted iron across his body.
Smith fished a twisted piece of iron out of the rubble and advanced on Sheogorath over the cracked and ruined street.
Smith shielded himself with his arms but was blasted backwards all the same, ripped off the ground and pitched into some poor Argonian’s home, the wall imploded and the room collapsed upon Smith in a shower of timbers and mud.
Flames jetted from the street, sputtered, drifted over to one of the neighboring houses, but their mud and stone construction kept them from bursting alight.
Embers rained down on where Smith was buried, a small fire catching. He would burn alive beneath it.
Then one thick arm burst above the rubble. Smith emerged, heaving blocks of stone and shards of wood aside, ichor dripping from his burned arms, covered in dust.
He push himself up, the shattered remnants of the house sliding off of him. Luckily, there was no one inside, the inhabitants having long evacuated.
He spat a glob of golden blood aside, wiping a smear of it off his mouth.
Nyasia didn’t really think anything of it. Certainly the guards would take care of it, were it crime. She wasn’t about to dispense vigilante justice in Rosalia’s home town.
Diab drew his sword and raised it above his head. “I’ll check it out!” He said, and then sprinted in that direction.
After momentarily hesitation, Nyasia leant towards him conspiratorially. “Seems somewhat unclean to you, does it not?”
Nyasia thought herself fairly enlightened for a royal, but she wasn't this enlightened.
"Do you want mine?" She offered it to Helian,
Nyasia watched the wild monkeys run about the man's stall. When was the last time he washed his hands?
Cringing, she bit into the wrap.
"Oh. It is good."
“Free?” Nyasia asked, suspicious after their time in Hammerfell. At a bazaar they would have been completely fleeced.
Nyasia fished around her purse for some money for him.
"Here, get two."
Nyasia raised a brow, “Suspect meat?”
Diab perused the kebabs, stroking his chin. Lamb or beef? It was a hard choice.
Nyasia was impressed by the quaint little town. It reminded her a bit of southern Cyrodiil, although perhaps there was more charm here than in Bravil or Leyawin.
“It doesn’t have to be any Monet, I’ll eat street food,” Diab said.
“I could eat,” Diab said. “Anything but fish, Tava willing.”
Nyasia blew a curl out of her face. "Well... at least we are in one piece."
Diab came down onto the dock after the Ordinators, hands resting on the pommel of his scimitar. He looked very much like a visiting prince here, in military dress uniform, sword and scabbard wrapped in bejeweled tassels. A far cry from the drunken layabout he'd been on their journey.
"Well now... do these ones get our luggage?" He asked, indicating the big men with a finger.
“Will your parents have returned now from Elinhir?” Nyasia asked. “I cannot see how they have beaten us here unless they made extreme haste.”
“How big is this island?” Nyasia asked Rosalia, standing near the helm.
Smith had warily matched Sheogorath, careful to keep himself out of the sword's reach.
"Maybe," he said. "Or maybe I'm just trying to keep you distracted."
He punched his arm down into the ground, flexed, ripped and the earth unspooled, coming part from Smith to under Sheogorath's feet, chunks of ground flying into the air.
"Your ledger is anything but clear," Smith said. They stood across from each other in the street. A tumbleweed could have rolled between them. "What you did to Jack, what you did here. I think I'll be all right."
Smith put one foot back and stuck up his fists. "Come on, old man. Let's see if you're more than Oblivion's clown."