Mitchell
As Salen spoke of defection, and torture, Varis seemed intrigued. And as he spoke of the horrors done within the Dominion, Varis seemed... Particularly interested. His eyes were wholly focused, as he desired details, but frowned as Salen did not go further. He listened to Salen's explanation, and nodded to himself.

Varis played with his beard for a bit, before his eyebrows rose. "Well, then it is clear what holds you back. Your family. Now, you can choose to dismiss them, or hold onto them. I suspect the latter."

The Wizard looked at Salen intently, placing his hands together on the table. "The situation is quite... Muddy. Though, if you wish to play by their terms, then, you will likely remain a Slave forever. Now, you speak of how they tolerate you, and how they look down on you, so," He shrugged, "What is it? What holds you back? A crime? Improper blood and ancestry? Have your forefathers sinned against the Thalmor?"
Taylor
Salen let out a sigh. "I was never going to reveal this information to you. But It appears I've already let too much out already, during the course of our conversation. And sure you have already made your assumptions towards my. Condition."

He leaned forward slightly. "I am of, mixed blood. Born of an affair between my mother. Obviously. And an Imperial. Some Diplomat named Scipio. For all fifty of my years, the circumstances of my birth have been held over my head. A filthy, dirt blooded, bastard."

Salen leaned back. "I am held by my superiors the same way they hold the Bosmer, or the Cat-folk. I am lesser than. But still better than the average human. It, has been a complicated existence. My mothers rank, wealth, and power within the dominion has kept me alive."

Salen grumbled a bit. His words teetering off as the server returned to the table bearing plates of food. He watched as the Nord gently set down the plates and then walked away. He took a moment, poked his food with at his fork before speaking again.

"And that, is my big secret, the damning fact of my existence."
Mitchell
The Wizard watched Salen as he explained the reason why his life was so destitute and bastardized. Varis seemed a tad surprised when one of his suspicions was proven true. *A mud-blood*? Varis pondered it for a moment, but chose not to comment immediately, as the Altmer continued, and paused for the server.

When the Nord was gone, Varis remained silent for as long as Salen continued, and when he was done, he nodded.

"And the merchant we aim to secure communication with, is she? I suppose?"

Varis did not seem particularly phased, as he continued, "Hm."

"He who has never been afforded the warmth of the village, will embrace the heat, when it all burns down."

Varis raised his eyebrows. "In such a case, it would be my pleasure to hand you the torch, to set it all ablaze. At least, to provide you the option."