Taylor
Salen's lips tightened grimly; when the other Mer brought up the horrors of being dragged away by the Thalmor. He had seen the horrific things the Altmer were capable of doing to their own kind. The screams that would echo throughout the bottom levels of the embassy. 

"They were right, with their warnings. A justiciar who has a reason to torture you, is a fate worse than death. Especially the mages, the things they can do to the body. Mortifying."

"I suppose you have a point about letting things go, not an option for me..."
Salen leaned back for a moment, rubbing his chin with his finger. He looked at Erandil, conflicted on if he should admit what was at the tip of his tongue.

"It pains me to see a fellow soldier distance himself from his sworn allegiance. But in a way, I admire the liberation you have chosen for yourself. As much as it worries me."
Maggie
"I can only imagine. The mages employed by the Thalmor are far better than the ones within the Dominion. The ones I served with anyways. But what they can do is already horrifying and their main goal is to make sure the Imperials were dead. Not break them." Erandil shakes his head, rubbing at his temple. A dim look is etched on his face, a bone-deep exhaustion taking hold.

"I feel blessed to even have that choice. No obligations, no strings attatched. Just me, myself, and I." Erandil decides to order a third serving of wine. Offering another tip for the Tavernkeep.

"Hold on, fellow soldier? You served with the Dominion soldiers?" Erandil raises a brow, staring at the other mer. Before he could answer, the mer adds like a secret.

"Or are you with the Thalmor? No judgement, of course. One does what one must either way."
Taylor
Salen shook his head. "Served? Nay, my kinsman. I still serve. And likely will continue to." 

He drummed his fingers on the tabletop. 
"Thirty four years, twenty of which I have served here. In Solitude." Salen was cautious to not reveal too much of his history. Not wanting to frighten away his drinking partner.

"I arrived here on the eve of the Stormcloak rebellion. Information, protection. A glorified guard really. There are many things about the Nords that I despise. But I will say, when they want to learn magic, they get damn good at it." He motioned to the massive scar on the side of his face And the dead, blind eye.

"Unfortunately, getting medically discharged is harder than getting blood from a stone. As I'm sure you know."
Maggie
"I see. Good to see that you're still alive, mostly in one piece asides from that eye of yours." Erandil hums. He takes a sip of his wine, clearing his throat once done.

"I was surprised by a lot of things as well. I was such a naive boy back then, but I'm glad I lived long enough to know some truths. Best advice I can give you is don't underestimate the races of man. They don't quite live as long as mer do, but they're resilient and resourceful." Erandil stares at the other's blind eye for a moment, then cracks a light smile hearing his next words.

"Indeed it is. I couldn't leave, until I was useless to the Dominion. All it took was needing to have my swordarm amputated." Erandil shrugs. He leans back to take another sip of his wine.
Taylor
Salen squinted over at the crumbled void in the other mers cloak. Where his arm would be. Now that he mentioned it directly he could see it. 

"That would do it, I take it you aren't the most magically inclined? They would have kept you if you could fling spells." Salen sipped his ale, finally reaching the bottom of his mug. The dregs of the fluid bitter upon his tongue.

"My current station is an administrative one anyways. No need for both eyes. But I'm lucky I escaped the attack that took it with my life." 

He glanced around the tavern, and then back towards the window. Rain pattered against the old glass pane. 

"If you are planning on staying in Solitude for an extended amount of time. I suggest getting an Alibi, my compatriots are nosy. And a lot less forgiving. All Altmer that live here will eventually get a knock. And a very long, interrogation. My advice, say you were born outside of the Dominion. Change up your accent to something more Imperial."
Maggie
"Hardly. I'm not cut out to be a spell-slinger. Best I can do right now is basic pyromancy." Erandil leans back, adjusting his cloak to keep it as hidden as possible.

"It's lucky indeed. As for an alibi.. Hmph. I suppose it'd be suspicious. I live a relatively recluse life anyways. I haven't been visited, if at all but.. That's because I steer clear of anyone in Thalmor robes." Erandil finishes up his third cup of wine, setting the glass down.

"Or anyone I suspect is an agent. You're an exception, however. You seem alright, nothing unbearable." Erandil gives snother smile, one much more genuine. He's glad to have just a nice talk with a kinsman, and not be bombarded with questions about his breed.

"I am curious, though. Why? Are they worried about traitors to the Dominion? I still have my discharge papers, documents when I severed my ties with Alinor." Erandil knows he should be worried. He's lived in Solitude just fine, simply kept to himself. But if the Thalmor are ramping up efforts for traitors. Erandil wouldn't consider himself one. But he's unsure about the Thalmor.
Taylor
Salen shifts in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Loose ends. If you think the Dominion army was ran like a tight ship. The Thalmor infinitely tighter. Traitors, deserters. Any ties to trade or the government is considered a risk. But if you have documents, and proof you served in a lesser unit. The worst you will get is an uncomfortable conversation. And a stern warning."

Salen took a moment to push back a few stubborn strands of hair that flew in-front of his brow. "The Dominion is in an... Interesting place right now. I can't speak a lot on it. Censorship and all. But there is a tension. Like a spring, slowly being coiled. I'm too low ranking to know all the details. But something is on the horizon." 

He stared at his empty mug. "I don't say that to worry you. But, if anything happens. Dominion embassy's across Tamriel are going to buzz about. Justiciars will be on the prowl, looking to clean up loose ends. Now that I know more about you, I think you will be fine. Auri-El help any poor sods who are turn-coats."
Maggie
"Hm. I expected the tension. What enthusiasm other loyalists had were quickly shattered after the Great War. The embarassment of losing our war against Hammerfell only solidified it." Erandil isn't sure if such knowledge is available to low-ranked Thalmor agents. It's an open secret around the time despite heavy censorship. How else would one explain all the soldiers that never returned.

"Lesser unit? Hah. So much for my misplaced efforts. I suppose there's a comfort in knowing that I'm likely unknown, forgotten." Erandil lets out a disappointed huff. Damn. Makes sense, he supposes. He's never gotten any higher than a Captain. Perhaps his superiors noticed his waning patriotism.

"Thank you for the warning. I'll say this, however. I don't doubt something dangerous is on the horizon. You seem like a good mer and it'd be a shame to learn of your death, really." Erandil's expression softens. He's only met this mer, not even knowing his name, yet he already cares for the other. Bah. Maybe that's why he failed as a Captain. He cares too much.

"Just be wary. Don't underestimate the other races. They're quite capable."