Blackwater Islands Of whit and measure

the lapse of the stranger's attention irks the dreadfather, who demands the respect of the voidcommander, of the daedric prince that they were. the thought was brief to let it snake away, betwixt their fangs but petty, they decide to bite down upon it. to let the annoyance fester. just because the druids had fled did not mean that this was not still their home. it was. it will be. always.

they care not for the gods she speaks of in revered and hushed tones. they ignore, focusing only when she offers her name and explination. it was ...not satisfying but as it was all they had to work with they have no choice but to begrudgingly accept it.

these islands are the home of the druids. they explain. they are my home. and if you cannot show me proper respect when i am speaking to you, i suggest finding your fortunes elsewhere. their words are cold, cutting. they will not accept disrespect and as the proper blood has yet to be spilt to christen their awakening: their discontent and anger only grows.