Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20141007044356/@comment-11457306-20141008235911

Daria was heating the blade of her finest dagger in the candle flame. The next arrow would not be so easy to remove. She had found grass spike pods to pad the wound and staunch the blood flow. Down in very bottom of her pack, underneath the false bottom, she had withdrawn a small bottle of skooma. Tasha had provided her with it, telling her it would kill pain and provide temporary strength, but would rob the imbiber of magicka temporarily. It was for emergency use only. She figured this was just such an emergency. She also found a weak health potion. Tasha had the strong stuff--this was just something she'd picked up at an alchemist shop along the way.

She heard Dral's question and decided he was just talking to keep his mind off the pain. He always sounded like he had something important to say or to ask and then it turned out to be something trivial. He'd done this with her so often, she'd come to expect it. She'd decided long ago that he had absolutely no intention of pursuing anything further with her, which was one reason she'd agreed to allow him to come live with her. He wasn't a threat.

"Oh, he was still living in Solitude when I first arrived in Skyrim.  I received word later that he seemed to have died of some severe reaction to something he ate or drank.  No one ever figured out what it was.  The gods are just, I have decided, even though they might not work as quickly as we would like."