" i don't mean to be too forward, you just seem like you could use a friend right now. " val.
...Did they really look so sulky?
At the bar in the Silver-Blood Inn, perched on a stool, a goblet of spiced wine in hand, it wasn't unusual to be approached. As one of Calcemo's apprentices alongside his nephew, many people had long since become familiar with Sypha and had encountered them either in Understone Keep or somewhere in the city proper. Though not a small village like Riverwood, there were enough denizens outside of the many adventurers and merchants who traveled across Skyrim to have built up some sense of familiarity. In most cases, however, most came with questions regarding the Dwemer, and a little rarer, about sorcery. Was this odd trinket they'd found worth something? Was it cursed? Was an old heirloom passed down for generations worth enough coin to buy a barrelful of Skooma? Odd, but not unusual.
That day, Sypha could admit they'd felt a little dispirited that a recent excavation had done little except trigger an enraged Centurion that had attempted to kill them, the ensuing battle decimating part of the ruins they'd been exploring. Master Calcemo had been wrathful, to put it lightly, even if it hadn't been their fault... Not entirely, at least.
"Oh, ah... thank you. It's fine, but... You are?"
