Wild Berry Meadow [bwp] unfähig

Maegi nodded, mouth quirking in remembrance. Yes, and she sounded like you, too, she responded, remembering the strange cadence of the woman's speech. She was about to comment more when he first asked about her god, and then went on to speak of. . .an alliance?

I. . .I'll consider it, she said, taken aback. She was a priestess, not really one for the fine art of diplomacy. Furthermore, the thought of moving closer to those mountains— Maegi didn't think she could do it. Not after what had happened there. If we move, I'll seek you out again.

That settled, she lifted her muzzle slightly, glad to get away from matters she was less than skilled in. Peryite is my chosen god, the one I'm named for, she replied, smiling proudly. God of pestilence and decay—my mother didn't like me very much, the Melonii added, her voice caught between acid and humor. But Peryite spoke to me, and I serve Peryite alone. Her bitterness only made me stronger and more faithful.

If Potema hadn't named her Peryite, to whom would she have gravitated? Mephala, or Sithis? Another daedra, or some other religion altogether (or none?)? She would not think of it. It mattered not. She was Peryite, and she was Peryite's.

I'm glad you're not the one I was looking for, Maegi said, her voice growing warmer, only to sink into ice as she continued. But he still walks the earth. A gray man, big and strong, with a scarred face and deep purple eyes. He calls himself 'Skullchaser'. . .he gave me this when I was just a child, she explained, turning her ravaged cheek to Mahler for full effect, orange eye flickering cold fire.

If you see him. . .if you come across him. . .send him to me.