Christopher
"That hat... I've seen it in Akaviri depictions. Do you take any relation to the Akaviri? It's not typical Dunmer, nor is your blade. Lord Seht used to have single edged swords like that forged, however."

*He could see something which was undoubtedly a reachmen camp in the hills. They were walking north along the Karth river, a popular spot for ambushes and tolls.*
Ariana
"When Red Mountain erupted, most of my family history written in records and books were lost. While we carried the memories, we could only remember so much. My family were sword masters, or warriors you could say. We had studied the art of the blade, the katana, tanto, all of that. My father described it as a sign of honor, respect, and art. I've had my run in with the Dominon... They don't take to kindly to the sword. Reminds them of a certain group of warriors that served the emperor... The Blades I think they are called.

This sword is my story, is my life, is what I really have after everything. All I can say is we were once small, respected family in Morrowind. Honorable swords for hire, we charged low costs and did jobs mostly for the poor or suffering. Made our skills avaible to those who needed it." He explained as he walked.
Christopher
"I have... Trouble relating to you, to put it lightly. I watched hundreds of years of Dunmer Culture die twice. Once in the Third Era, Once in the Fourth. Perhaps not even your father would've known of the Glory days, when the Tribunal ruled. I see now that it was fated to end that way. But look at me."

*He removed the white sash which covered most of his body. Engraved on his chest, in the Brass was that symbol. The Symbol of the Temple. It also gave Velin a better look at his prosthesis. Scar tissue outlined it all, he was split perfectly down the middle up to the middle of his neck.*

"I cannot return to Morrowind. I cannot live among my people."
Ariana
He would not like his choice of words. His people were not fated to end, it all because the Dominion couldn't handle the idea of Dunmer practicing with Akaviir style of weapons that they used. He watched his father get cut down, her mother taken away and burned, and his brothers drown in their own blood. It was not fate, he didn't believe that his life was predetermined. He made his own fate.

Velin was good at hiding his emotions, while he felt disrespected. His face stayed the same.

He looked over at him and saw his scars, and the metal that was fused into his body. He gave a nod and kept on walking, his eyes scanning around their surrondings.
Christopher
"I just wanted to vent my frustrations to a kinsman who doesn't ask questions."

*He covered himself again and stopped. He tapped his staff on the ground and pointed to the hill.*

"He know's I've spotted him. He's going to ask for gold to pass through. He has friends in a nearby camp, no doubt, how would you wish to handle this?"
Ariana
"I barely have enough gold, and I don't wish to give these brigands what they desire. I say we try to use words, then strike." He gave a nod.

In truth, Velin wanted to kill these bandits anyways. There's no telling how many people they hurt and things they stole. Sure, killing them wouldn't end the problems. With the war and chaos... More would move in.
Christopher
*The man descended with his sword drawn. Orcish sword in the hands of a Reachman.*

"You two, these are our lands, we demand Tribute. 50 gold."

*The Telvanni thought for a moment. He placed his left hand behind his back.*

"For what purpose?"

*He said, curiously.*