Samuel
"I hope you don't mind me, as we indulge in the arts of conversation," Shei smugly quips, feeling around in his sidebag. 

He pulls out a small wood container holding the herbal mix, and shakes it into his pipe's chamber. After patting it down gently with his thumb, the orc then grabs his tiny makeshift pocket burning lens within the same pouch, aiming a stream of sunlight into the pile. 

The orc puffs slow to wake up a smoke, and his eyebrows rise upon hearing the words "Secret", "Want to hear it".

After a grunt and smoke leaving his nostrils, he gives a look to the Khajiit, as if he were his own late mother when offered a sweet roll; an expression which reads *Oh, that's evil... Gimme.*

His eyes widen as the cat-man's uncanny smile grows, causing him to giggle like a troublemaking lad. Namiira, sounded familiar. Sort of.

"Secrets are my weakness, friend! I can't resist, if you are grinning from ear-to-ear, it *Must* Be good..."
Michael
He laughs, "Well, once when I went into Whiterun, Namiira whispered to me a secret..." He says with a giggle, "She told me that the Companions have some form of allegiance with Hircine! She told me nothing more but it makes sense, no? I mean Aela is literally called 'The Huntress'! Skyrim's famous group of warriors, a clan of Daedra worshippers!" He says with a dark laugh
Samuel
"*Really*?" The orc scoffs, tongue in cheek as he thinks. 
He's read a play or three about such Daedra. Hircine, the father of *Manbeasts*. Hircine's werewolves, and a connection with the Companions? 

"Oh, but that's merely an old rumor! It's... *Ehh*. It's a social taboo to bring it up in the mead hall. I only know that from helping the Haggard sweep and dust the living quarters every Sundas."

With a cloud of smoke to the sky, Shei licks his lips before he continues. "Vilkas, one of the more valued Shield-Brothers, has a book in his room?

 "...A writer, this Lentulus fellow. He went to the hall on a mission to find insight about lycanthropy rumors and whatnot. And when he arrived at Jorrvaskr, everybody there grew all gouche, pallid, kicked him out before he could even step inside!"

Shei scratches his scalp with his free hand. "I guess the Companions have aged skeletons in their closet, hm? I wouldn't be surprised, *Who doesn't*? If it's true... They do good deeds, nonetheless! And protect the hold. ...Except Njada Stonearm. She's flat out mean."

He guffaws at himself. "Now, Njada as a secret manbeast? Heh-Hah! It would make sense, as to why she's such a bitch," The orc fake gasps. 

"If she kills me as a beast, sir, I will visit you as a spectre. And materialize a hat so I can eat it in front of your eyes... As punishment for not taking heed to your secret's foreshadowing."

The green one waves a gnat away from his pipe, muttering a silent *You git, g i t,* Under his breath, as if the bug could hear him.
Michael
"Now why would the Companions, a group of fearless warriors, fear a writer who just wants to look into rumors about lycanthropy? Surely they've fought many werebeasts, no? It should be no problem! That is, unless they're hiding something!" He says, somewhat triumphantly
Samuel
Chewing the pipe's lip, the orc raises his brows and purses his. He gestures with his pipe to the Khajiit, tilting his head to avoid smoking in his new friend's face. 

"Hm... You're onto something, with that. I wonder... They should have lied to the man, instead of shutting him out, you know? Say a Harbinger centuries ago had a tragic backstory with a werewolf, and their tale lingers on ever since. Mere idea, is all. The nords there should live a little. Make a fun story up. Change it every time someone asks."

Shei snickers as he thinks of the possible conspiracy theories out there. 

"I'm afraid my secrets are more to the tune of city gossip. Vilkas' brother is afraid of spiders. Last week, we were all eating dinner, and he wouldn't sit down until someone took care of a spider crawling on the other side of the table."

With an air-pinching hand, the orc pantomimes the bug was about the size of an acorn. 

"Do you have any fears of things like that, Ra'Gharesh?" Shei asks, nearly finished with his smoke. 
"Personal example. I don't like slaughterfish. A stronghold sister of mine when I was really little lost a toe to one, when we went to a swimming hole off the Carth River. They're cretins."
Michael
"Khajiit fears nothing but being stripped of this one's freedom" He says, "One of the groups who seeks me, the Twilight Cantors, a group of Azurah worshippers," He hisses, then continues, "They seek out dro-m'Athra such as this one, and exorcise us, make us 'pure' again, strip us of our gifts."
Samuel
"*Azura* Worshippers do that?"

Not noticing the -h ending to the name, Shei at least understands the concept of those who follow the metaphysical being. Whoever these Twilight Cantors are, they must not like bent dancing. 

"They sound a bit dyed in the wool. I *Hate* When people are conservative like that. Oh... Something expressive, but it's different... Devastating. "

He sarcastically looks away from the Khajiit. "I mean. Expression is *So bad* For us mortals. All must only let Gods be capable of doing that!"

The bard taps the dead ash from his pipe to the ground, placing his carved trinket back into his satchel for safe keeping. He sighs, feeling a little more awake. With a quick dusting-off of his outfit, Shei moves his lute to his chest. 

A subconscious, faint plucking begins from his fingers. 

"I hope these Cantors haven't been tracking you down, causing you trouble in Whiterun?"
Michael
"Many groups consider the dro-m'Athra a form of Daedra!" He says, with a chuckle, "I've never even been to the Dark Behind the Moon! Yes, some mages have been known to summon us, but that's no different from summoning a ghost, no?"
Darrell
"It depends - have *You* Been summoned like a ghost before? And more importantly - was it fun?"

The orc is spiritual, but believes most ghost shenanigans told are moral-based tales, or a smoke and mirrors gimmick to influence people.

He goes into minor scales on his instrument, and makes a ghostly *Ooooo* Sound from his lips. 

"Now, can ghosts dance?"
Michael
"I have not, yet. And I hope not to, being bound to someone else's will does not sound like something I would like." He says, "I've fought a ghost before, though, dreadful things, very *Cold*. No fun at all, khajiit was disappointed, it had no personality, just moaned and groaned while blasting frost."
Darrell
"Then it *Would* Be different - Ghosts ruin the party, while you would start it," Shei chortles. 

He notices a string to be slightly out of tune on his lute, adjusting one of the pegs while gripping its neck. Hearing it play smoother, he nods to himself before speaking again. 

"I'm sorry to say I'm *Very* Intrigued; the dro M'Athra - are there any songs sung about this... Darkness, you speak of? Is there any ballad or specific melody you hold dear to your heart?"