Jerry
Sondaale dug a nail into the skin of her hand, and *Focused*. 
She shifted her lips into a polite smile as she listened.
"I've heard that one," She said. 
At the very least she had heard similar sayings. Believed them, in a vague sort of way. It was the kind of thing some of her teachers, back on Summurset had said. Which ones, she couldn't quite recall. They blended together, a faceless mass of saccharine aphorisms and distant disappointment. 
Most of that time was blurry, really. An an unending procession of parchment and inkstains and distant terror, always overlaid by the mould in the corner and the worm-eaten carcass in the gardens, dancing at her command. 

She looked at the forest, and then at the mer. "I see." There was a silence. Then he continued. She scratched at her eye again. 
"It doesn't hurt. But it itches." Sometimes it felt like it was writhing, but she didn't talk about that. 
The Dunmer's gaze, calculating as it was, and his manner was bringing it back.
She could feel the old bloodstains. The filth under her nails. There was no point in trying to hide them anymore. 
She smiled at him, baring her teeth, and scratched the bear's ragged fur. 
"Is there-" Her fingers went through the zombie's rotted skin- "A reason? For building here. "
Linda
The Mage watched her as she responded, and it seemed, his gaze was clawing at her. The way she moved, dug into the bear's scalp, tore into the rotted flesh... It was fascinating. She was not exactly agitated, as far as he could tell, but she was...*Embracing* The way he looked at her. Varis raised an eyebrow as she explained that her infection did not hurt, and he believed her. While he might have found it uncomfortable to even look at, he wondered what sort of compulsions let her leave it as an itch, and not get it healed. He despised such sensory feelings of discomfort, from the itch of a scar, to the blades of grass pressing against his ankles. It all disgusted him. 

"Hm. A reason?" He raised an eyebrow, and looked around. "Well, the relative answer would be funding. My research into the mystic arts requires ingredients, and certain things that cost quite a bit. Give a man a house, and he leaves his mother's. But, he pays all the same. No more will he hear her nagging, but he'll hear my knocks if he's past due." He whisked his hand dismissively, before looking toward the bear. "Now, your turn. You said you were alone, and not Thalmor." He looked up to her. "Thus, what is your purpose for being here?"
Jerry
He was looking at her, really looking now. She could see the disgusted fascination in her eyes, and she felt a moment of pride. 


Why was she here? There wasn't... Really a reason, other than that she had nowhere else to be. Vague plans of traveling to Solitude, and then... She wasn't sure. Trying to drag herself out of the pit again, maybe. 

At last, she shrugged. 
"I was traveling. To Solitude, I guess. It's supposed to be a good place to make a living."

She looked at the Scamp again, and the Dunmer covered in Daedric runes. It occured to her that this was the sort of situation that she'd been warned of as a young girl. 

She wondered, idly, if the Dunmer had heard stories about blood-stained necromancers in the woods. Her lips quirked at the thought. 

"So then." 

"Are you planning-" She paused, thinking of how to phrase the question. "-profane magics in the woods?"
Linda
"Profane magicks in the woods is for those without the proper places to perform such things." He raised his chin a little, his arrogance present in his features as he smiled a tad. "Out here, hunters, wildlings, and other such interruptions could occur. In the city, my domain lies safe, undisturbed, unknown. Who needs a sign warning tresspassers, when one simply needs to leave their things out in the open, in the right places, so nobody suspects what they might construct into?"

The sorcerer turned his head down toward the scamp. "If one's rite must be done under moonlit skies," He looked back toward her, then the bear, and ceased his smirk to instead trade it for a curious indifference, "Then perhaps, the rite must be improved."

Varis placed his hands behind his back as he stood straight, head a tad downward as he looked at her through his eyelashes, inspecting the blood stained robes and whatnot. As a Telvanni, he had been informed of how to deal with the undead. The Altmer had produced a great text on the subject, but when it came to vampires and other such monstrosities of the night, the Telvanni had superiority in such matters. The Magisters do not fear the night, for the night must fear them. Vampires are exquisite sources of vampire dust, after all, and various other alchemical reagents. To pull a vampire's teeth out of its skull is a delicate procedure, but yields effective poltices. 

Though, when it came to Necromancers, the Temple's doctrines are quite clear. Expel them. Destroy them. Annihilate the infadels who would tarnish the bodies of our ancestors, and torment their spirits. 

Varis, though devout, was not so concerned with such dogma, and the following of it. He took a deep breath, taking in the smell of the woods, despising it, and noticing that Sondaale's presence, and odors, had finally simmered within the mixture. 

A fetid corpse was as bad as freshly fallen leaves, in his estimation. 

"This," He gestured toward the scamp.
Kelvin
The creature clicked its jaws together, then his claws, and the spines on its back bristled as it flinched at the gesture from its Master. The thing sat there, close to the Master, but almost curled up. It was afraid. 

Sondaale would have known such a sight. Perhaps in the Summerset Isles, where Goblins were frequently used as slaves. This thing did not look too much different from a goblin, and the behavior of servitude was rather common.
Linda
"Is Jaher. My familiar. Plucked from the Deadlands, and bound to this plane so long as I desire its presence." He had noticed her oogling of the Scamp and wondered what she might think of the other monsters he could conjure from the depths of Oblivion. "Exceptionally useful, familiars. Though, like assistants, they should never be permanent."