| Fliblelpish | Дата: Вторник, 28.05.2013, 12:47 | Сообщение # 1 |
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| Well, I guess he did, and by Malacath, it weren't a waste of time at all.I'll not be keeping you.I'm sending you right along.You're going to the palace, boy-o.I can walk there.He went back into the cabin and came out followed by a sleepy-looking Khajiit and a Bosmer woman.One of them put a bag over his head.He tried to shout, but after a few breaths of something with a funny smell, his senses dimmed and were replaced by strange, vividly colored dreams.He woke up to the smell of cinnamon tea and a face with eyebrows like fuzzy caterpillars perched over calm blue eyes.It was a very familiar face.
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They were in a sort of parlor, decorated in odd alchemical devices and Ayleid curiosities.Attrebus was in an armchair.
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He tried to stand up but found he couldn't; his body seemed immensely heavy.We've never much liked each other, that is to say.His wounds have been doctored, but I've kept him asleep.He's far too dangerous otherwise, from what I can tell.Did Hierem not know what Umbra was?
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