sontaire replied to your post:

What Camille and Mitis are planning. Have planned? That, I’m unsure of.

Oh sh–

[He catches himself, twisting his face into an utterly unnatural smile as quickly as he can. If there were any small children present, they’d be crying.] I mean oh… sure I remember that. Cashmere told me all about it. Real… sweet of them kids, huh?

sontaire replied to your post: LET ME HAVE YO CHILDREN

“Children to tend to limit one’s activities, do they not?”

“That’s the understatement of the year,” he remarked off-handedly. “They’re little monsters.” Anders turned briefly to the stranger, before doing a double-take and staring at her in awe.

By Kynareth, her arse rivaled Dibella’s. Her chest could have served as someone else’s perfect round buttocks. It was delicious. And to make it better, she was an Altmer that more or less could have plopped down from his fantasies.

His jaw dropped, and as much as he tried to form words, nothing came out.


The commotion at the inn had died down for the evening; the musical performance had ended, guests retreated to their rooms, and the few still out were finishing a meal or having a drink before bed. In the room off the side of the parlor, a small sitting room, Sontaire hummed a little tune to her boy, Hallandor, asleep soundly enough to rival the dead in her arms, while Noora still stubbornly attempted to stack some blocks. The blocks were altogether uncooperative, clacking noisily as she slammed each piece down on top of the other.

For now, she hadn’t noticed his approach, but she was completely engrossed in watching her children. It had been a long and tiring day. They were the start and the end to it all.

Korgul heard some kind of humming, and he looked for the source. Heading toward the small room, he was slightly shocked by the scene before him. Children. Very small children. A little younger than his own step daughter surely, but still very young and small. He smiled at the young one playing with blocks, looking like she was ready to fall over in a sleeping heap amongst the ruins of a great block city. 

He heard the song come to an end, and he rested against the frame of the entranceway as he quietly clapped. 

“A beautiful melody, Sontaire.” 

Clearing the Air [Shey|Sontaire]


Sontaire wouldn’t be telling Shey, but she had been expecting her. Aura had told Sontaire that Shey needed help, and… despite all that had happened, she would not abandon her in her time of need. And, from what the lady had heard… the Imperial was in need for certain.

“Shey.” Sontaire called from off to her right, regarding her with both concern and a steely sense of composure.

Shey tried not to be sullen, she tried not to skulk. She didn’t want to see Sontaire. She hated healers. She would rather her eye sting forever. Yet, here she was, because Auranel had asked her to.

“Sontaire.” Shey kept her stance loose, waiting. “Aura told me to see you.”

The Long-Awaited Day [Sontaire|Shey]

Everything was in order, planned to perfection. She was wearing bright green silks that matched her eyes, trimmed in gold and offset by dark brown leather boots up to her knees and gloves of the same to her wrists. She cradled a ship-shaped bottle of brandy in one arm, the other resting easily by her side. She deposited her daggers and knives as she entered the bordello, as she was supposed to, straightened her silks, and then asked after Sontaire.

After being given the proper directions and assured that Sontaire was accepting visitors, Shey took to the stairs. The hall s were easy to navigate, and soon she found herself before the womer’s door. This being the last obstacle before seeing the exquisite Altmer, herself, Shey once again checked to make sure she was in order, then rapped on the door.