<div class="floatleft">(http://i262.photobucket.com/albums/ii89/CowGoil08/snow30.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Nalie Rotecar<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Dragon's Reach<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Mid Morning<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Jarl Frothar, Imperial Swordswoman<br/><br/>As the scroll was revealed, Nalie's eyes lit up, like a child who'd been offered her favorite toy. Was that? But it couldn't be. In all her years she'd never looked upon a true Dragon Priests Mask. Well, not in the physical form. She'd seen plenty drawing to last her a life time, Frothar had one here? Inside his hold? Her eyes moved up to him, then to Lucretia, was it? Her fingers traced over the details, even after the woman left. Eight of these through out the world, or so it was said. She'd always thought the Dragon Born had journeyed to gather them all, he never had spoken if he'd been successful.<br/><br/>If the Thalmor were seeking it. Her eyes went to the Jarl. What wasn't he telling them? As the servant gathered the scrolls, she waited, he'd had much mead. Perhaps she could, as the humans put it, use her wiles. She rose and brought forth the jug of mead pouring a hearty filling of mead into his goblet. Setting it down she sighed,<strong>"Is there anything more you could tell me...about this mask that is?"</strong>her words were soft, concerned as a friends should be. Her hand rested on the table as she tried to recall which Priest wore that mask. The names of the Priests circulated in her mind as she awaited his response.<br/><br/>