Lucien: So, um. Gore, is it? That's...
Gore: Got a problem, mage?
Lucien: Not at all! It's very...colorful. Apt, I'm sure, for a man of your, uh, particular talents.
Gore: Are you...flirting with me?
Lucien: What? No! Not that you're-- Ugh! Divines, why does this always happen?!
Gore: You remind me of someone, scholar.
Gore: A lordling once hired the Ravens to escort him to Valenwood. Nice guy. He was from Skingrad but Bosmer by blood. Wanted to "find his roots" I guess. He'd read every book about the place. All he ever talked about.
Lucien: I see... Did he find what he was seeking?
Gore: I doubt it. One night he left camp for a piss or something. Will-o-the-Wisp got him before we knew it. Poor sod never even made it to the border.
Lucien: Why are you telling me this? Not a cheerful comparison, I must say.
Gore: Don't know. I think it's brave, what you're doing. Seeing the world. Just remember this isn't one of your stories, okay?
Lucien: I'm still not quite certain I understand.
Gore: You've got a big brain. I'm in no hurry to see it in pieces crushed out of your skull.
Lucien: Gore, do let me know if you would like any assistance with your academic pursuits.
Lucien: I know Remiel has been helping with your reading. I have all manner of books to share as well, of course. And writing! We must work on improving your penmanship.
Gore: Ugh. I'll pass. You write enough for all of us.
Lucien: But it'll be fun!
Lucien: These mercenaries who raised you...they're--
Gore: Dead. You can say it.
Gore: Not yours to apologize for, scholar.
Lucien: I understand they were quite cruel?
Gore: Yeah. Was all they knew. Now they're gone.
Lucien: Here I've been going on and on about my parents and missing the comforts of home whilst you--
Gore: Hey, no shame in being loved.
Gore: Besides, they were my family, whatever else. I miss 'em too. You're alright, Lucien.
