Board Thread:Off Topic/@comment-6069202-20130621224334/@comment-9854979-20130702033238

(I think it's about time I actually make a post that's relevant to the story today, haven't really been in the mood for RP lately, but I intend on keep Mus alive for the rest of this RP! :D Basically how I feel right now )

The group heads onto the boat, with it's main destination being Cyrodil, onto the port of Anvil (the closest port from Skyrim, geologically).

Mus: *sigh*

Garen: Huh? What is it, Mus?

Mus: We're headed into the Imperial City, that's what. If you thought Skyrim was a racist nation, wait until we reach Anvil. You'll be lucky not to be spit on once we reach land. The Dunmer are hated, same goes for you Nords, and even you, Qa' Saad. Any non-Imperial is begging to have their lives ruined.

Garen: We aren't living in Cyrodil, you know. It's a get-in get-out process. We'll do what we need to do, then leave.

Mus: If I end up in a jail cell...wait - I'm not going to rot in one of those damned Imperial cells!

The group let's out a laugh, as the boat is finally done loading all necessary supplies, and is on it's way to Anvil Port. Mus throws his hood up and places his face mask on as daylight approaches.