Author: Mishell

TEL VOS STREET DWELLERS

Person A:  "Ugh, what an eyesore."
Person B:  "I rather like it.  It's a perfect visual symbol of what the Empire is doing to Morrowind, and vice versa."

Person A: "You're new to the Grazelands, aren't you?"
Person B: "What makes you say that?"
Person A: "You seem to have a sense of urgency about you.  Don't worry, that'll fade."

Person A: "Does this shalk burn look infected to you?"
Person B: "I'm not a healer, but I'm fairly sure green is bad."

Person A:  "Tel Mora's just east across the water, right?"
Person B:  "Yes.  The Endeavor can take you there.  Down at the docks.  Fairly cheap."
Person A:  "I don't need to go just now, but thank you."

Person A:  "If nowhere had a middle, this would be it."
Person B:  "It's not that bad."
Person A:  "You don't travel much, do you?"

Person A:  "I'm beginning to understand why most of the Telvanni live on islands.
Person B:  "Were you talking to me?"
Person A:  "I suppose not."

Person A:  "What is Master Aryon thinking lately?"
Person B:  "No idea.  He's trying to fix what isn't broken."
Person A:  "If he keeps it up, someone's going to fix him."