Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-12599067-20140306020948/@comment-5543592-20140325231315

Daithi strapped his new breastplate on. His other set of Mithril Armor had been ruined, but now he had a full mithril helmet along with a complete cohesive set of Mithril armor. The mask had been bonded to a Mithril helmet, thus he could now were both at once, along with dark green hood over top.

He leaned on his cane. Although it might not look like it, the cane actually complemented Daithi's martial arts, as he was experienced in Bataireacht (stick-fighting).

"My Grace, the army is mobilized.  I have fetched you a... mount." Said a chainmail-armored soldier (I almost typed barbaque for some reason).

"Thank you." Weezed Daithi. Unbeknownst to him or anyone, J'Baad's dagger had pierced one of his lungs and damaged his breathing for the time breathing.

"You know, Lord Daithi, when your people the king's army is marching north..." The soldier trailed off.

"Yes.  I have no doubt our numbers will swell as we head for the Imperial City.  Have the troops began the march north.  Have our commanders make sure the army stick together.  You and I both know how we Bosmer get.  And fetch me this mount.  I suspect it will be a pleasant surprise."

The soldier smiled. "It will suit you very will, sire."