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Desele's House of Earthly Delights 
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”By the Almsivi, how are you supposed to be able to sleep from that dreadful yowling?” The young Dunmer’s irritated complaint broke the long silence between the two women standing vigil outside a concrete house adorned with the last flowers of summer and crimson lanterns that cast an otherworldly aura around the couple.
Another low, echoing moan of the Silt Strider penetrated the cool night air. The other woman, a tall, slender Nord didn’t move from her vantage point on the top of the stairs, but instead sent a very unladylike glob of saliva flying to the slightly damp stones of the courtyard. “Didn’t you have Striders on the mainland?”
“No,” came the clipped response.
“Better get used to it then.”
“It’s eerie.”
“Hm.”
Sighing, the young Dunmer pushed off from the building’s chilly wall and started walking in a small circle to warm herself up, careful to avoid stepping in the spit with her scanty sandals. It was already late Hearthfire and the weather was no longer agreeing with their attempts of picking up customers from the streets. “Is it always this slow?” she finally asked conversationally, wanting something else to think about than the developing frostbite in her toes.
“Not usually,” the Nord replied, absently following her partner’s pacing with her eyes. “I hear there’s something going on at the Temple. Even Madam Desele’s worried, what with the rumors of the Blight and all that. She’s saying we’re going to need more effective ways to ensure our customers are... clean.”
“Oh.” The Dunmer wrapped her arms around herself and stifled a shiver. At the moment she was extremely jealous of her friend’s natural resistance to the autumn’s chill. “Did the Temple finally take care of that freak?”
At that the blonde Nord let out a bark of laughter. “Freak? There’s plenty of freaks to go around on Vvardenfell. Which one?”
The Dunmer stopped pacing to nod at the empty courtyard. “You know, him. Spouting crazy talk about that ancient heathen cult.”
“Oh, him. Caminda saw someone official-looking talking to him yesterday and then he just disappeared.”
“Is he dead?”
A shrug. “I wouldn’t know. What does it matter?”
“He was entertaining. I think he was bringing in more customers. Gods, it’s cold out here!” The Dunmer gave up and stomped to the door. “I’m going inside. Have a pleasant evening freezing you face off.”
The Nord chuckled. “Fine.”
“Let me know if the freak comes back and I’ll come enjoy the show.”
“I will. Good night.”
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Photoshop CS4.
Morrowind © Bethesda
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”By the Almsivi, how are you supposed to be able to sleep from that dreadful yowling?” The young Dunmer’s irritated complaint broke the long silence between the two women standing vigil outside a concrete house adorned with the last flowers of summer and crimson lanterns that cast an otherworldly aura around the couple.
Another low, echoing moan of the Silt Strider penetrated the cool night air. The other woman, a tall, slender Nord didn’t move from her vantage point on the top of the stairs, but instead sent a very unladylike glob of saliva flying to the slightly damp stones of the courtyard. “Didn’t you have Striders on the mainland?”
“No,” came the clipped response.
“Better get used to it then.”
“It’s eerie.”
“Hm.”
Sighing, the young Dunmer pushed off from the building’s chilly wall and started walking in a small circle to warm herself up, careful to avoid stepping in the spit with her scanty sandals. It was already late Hearthfire and the weather was no longer agreeing with their attempts of picking up customers from the streets. “Is it always this slow?” she finally asked conversationally, wanting something else to think about than the developing frostbite in her toes.
“Not usually,” the Nord replied, absently following her partner’s pacing with her eyes. “I hear there’s something going on at the Temple. Even Madam Desele’s worried, what with the rumors of the Blight and all that. She’s saying we’re going to need more effective ways to ensure our customers are... clean.”
“Oh.” The Dunmer wrapped her arms around herself and stifled a shiver. At the moment she was extremely jealous of her friend’s natural resistance to the autumn’s chill. “Did the Temple finally take care of that freak?”
At that the blonde Nord let out a bark of laughter. “Freak? There’s plenty of freaks to go around on Vvardenfell. Which one?”
The Dunmer stopped pacing to nod at the empty courtyard. “You know, him. Spouting crazy talk about that ancient heathen cult.”
“Oh, him. Caminda saw someone official-looking talking to him yesterday and then he just disappeared.”
“Is he dead?”
A shrug. “I wouldn’t know. What does it matter?”
“He was entertaining. I think he was bringing in more customers. Gods, it’s cold out here!” The Dunmer gave up and stomped to the door. “I’m going inside. Have a pleasant evening freezing you face off.”
The Nord chuckled. “Fine.”
“Let me know if the freak comes back and I’ll come enjoy the show.”
“I will. Good night.”
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Photoshop CS4.
Morrowind © Bethesda
Image size
1600x950px 732.79 KB
© 2011 - 2024 TheMinttu
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Fabulous beauty!