“You still shouldn’t have killed that daedra. Do’Khaj had it under control,” Do’Khaj says, setting down his bags. “It was about to kill you,” Hjaald replied while he held the door to Proudspire Manor for Do’Khaj. “Do’Khaj was about to cut it’s hand off, until you rudely stabbed it.” Do’Khaj sits down. Jordis rushes over to greet her Thane. He waves her away, asking for tea. She smiles and hurries out. “Your arm was broken. He could’ve killed you. You have one sword arm you know, and with that you are nothing.” Hjaald says as he opens up a fresh bottle of Cyrodiilic brandy. “You have become quite accustomed to the drinks there, have you not?” Do’khaj grins.
Hjaald frowns. “All I’m happy about was seeing my parents again. They liked you, you know,” he says. Hjaald takes a glass of brandy and sits down. “Agh,” he yelps. “An arrow still in my armor..” He reaches around and grabs it. Snapping it in a quick second, he turns quickly. “I should travel to Whiterun. Tell the Companions I’ve returned.” “No need, Do’Khaj will write Vilkas and Sings soon. But he must soon travel to Riften. He has acquired an artifact for Alfsigr that he must bring her.” he says. “Well have fun. I’m going to go sleep for a decade,” Hjaald says sarcastically. “It is good to be home, is it not, Hjaald? Do’Khaj missed these cold sands,” Do’Khaj says. Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door. “This one shall see who it is,” Do’Khaj says as he gets up to his feet. He rushes hurriedly over to the door to check it.
As he opens the door, he slams it twice as quickly. Hjaald looks at him scornfully. “How rude of you, Do’Khaj,” He says. “Who could it have been that you didn’t want to see?” Do’Khaj’s mood changed from happy to sad. “My brother,” He mutters.
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