"I'd stay away from the Telvanni if I were you," Teldryn Sero advised his drinking companion. The Breton woman sighed, emptying her bottle of flin. The two sat in the Retching Netch, holed up a table in the far back of the taproom. It was early evening; the cornerclub filled with tired shopkeepers and off duty guards looking for a bite to eat and something to wet their tongues. A recent ash storm had abated only yesterday, the crowds out in droves, finally be able to escape their homes.

"I wouldn't be doing it if I had a choice, I know how wizards can get," the Breton replied. She gestured to the Dremora standing in the darkened corner behind the table, perhaps hidden in the shadows if not for the dull scarlet glow of his daedric armor, "but the situation is somewhat desperate."

Teldryn snorted, taking an aggressive pull from his sujamma. His companion looked miserable, as ready to collapse from the weight on her shoulders as from the lack of sleep darkening her eyes. Her normally tanned skin had paled to a sick ivory, the silver blonde hair she kept in a braid only making her look more wraithlike. Whether or not she was aware of it, Dianthe had nearly driven herself into her grave in the search for answers.

"Wizards are one thing, sera, but the Telvanni are another. Have you been to that Winterhold College?" he tried, hoping to dissuade her from travelling to Tel Mithryn and getting mixed up with Neloth. Dianthe smiled mirthlessly, resting her tired eyes as she explained how utterly useless the mages were on her problem. She'd been chasing rumors since then, even seeking out an expert on the Mythic Dawn to try and find aid. The sellsword found himself intrigued, asking how that turned out. This time the girl grinned, a mean flint reaching her crinkled eyes as she slid Mehrunes' Razor onto the small tabletop.

"The Prince was helpful, gave me what I wanted and more," she laughed with a small manic hitch. One of the Redoran guard chose that time to pass by their table, his bulky bonemold armor knocking into Dianthe as he lurched on unsteady, drunken feet. Her colorless gray eyes flashing, Dianthe snatched up the Razor, subtly angling to slip it up through the bonemold plates and into the offending Dunmer's kidney. Behind her the Dremora uncrossed his arms, fingers twitching to unsheathe the greatsword at his back and cleave the guard in two. Soon the moment passed, a Dunmer maiden across the room catching the offending guard's attention causing him to teeter off, drink in hand.

Dianthe watched him go, releasing a shaky breath as she sheathed the Razor. Teldryn felt himself relax, his hand releasing the pommel of his elven sword. The Breton ran a shaking hand through her hair, snagging her fingers against the thick braid that hung to her middle back. She shivered in place, hunching her shoulders up to her ears and biting her lips together.

She glared down at the table, shaking her head, "I can't keep it up, Teldryn. Something has to give before I do. Whatever the Telvanni has to say or do is fine. It'll be better than living like this," she pushed away from her seat, momentarily leaning her weight against it when her head swam. "I'll be retiring for the night and setting out in the morning. Goodnight, it's been nice seeing you again."

Teldryn watched her weave through the crowd of Dunmer with the Dremora at her back. She disappeared into her room with the daedra, leaving Teldryn with a pit forming in his gut. He knew an addict when he saw one, and Dianthe was withdrawing. That didn't trouble him nearly as much as the reason why she had turned to moon sugar, the reason her life had begun an abrupt downward spiral in the last year. Teldryn pulled down the cloth covering his mouth, upending his sujamma and gulping down half the bottle. He relished the flush it brought to his mind, the quiet muting fuzz of his thoughts.

He didn't fight the way it numbed his guilt, the relief it brought from not being capable of helping her. The gods knew she needed it, but she would suffer. He pulled the cloth over his face again, leaning back into his seat. Her involvement with the Princes had cost her.