Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-9062114-20140831060517/@comment-1359657-20140902063207

"...Uh-huh."

Ask a stupid question...

Wondering what on earth 'meet me tomorrow' means from someone he just met, Cyrus heads in as well. "The Age of Oppression" is being played by a bard, and the Redguard rolls his unnaturally blue eyes. ''Oppression...hah! Talos worshippers wouldn't have been oppressed in the first place if not for the Stormcloaks crying about it. A secret shrine to Tiber Septim is better than none at all.''

Still, no sense crying over old wounds. He asks the innkeeper for wine, and is pleased to find a glass of a rich Argonian bloodwine set before him, along with a plate of steamed mudcrab legs. They may be obnoxious to fight in the wild, but they make a damn fine meal.

After enjoying his dinner perhaps a bit too much, Cyrus too rents a room, collapsing in the bed without even removing his magic Circlet.