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"No, they're the cultists. They consider meat holy and eat it all day. What type of meat, I don't even want to know."

"Is that so . . .?"

(That's a stereotype for certain Christian cults, best to steer away from stereotypes. Makes it more unique.)

(What could be something uncanny that these cultists do?)

(Eating the unworthy.)

(So blood all over their bodies?)

(I changed it. I'm in the db now. I was blamed for Zork's death.)

(So, official change. They don't have sanitary rules, and eat (+torture?) the "unworthy". There's blood on them, obviously, because they don't clean up after eating the people. Any new ideas are welcome.)

"Yeah, they're gross people. The normal townsfolk are terrified of them, afraid they'll snatch them up. Anyways, we're here! This is my favorite tavern here. Let's hurry inside before these guys attack you. You guys don't seem like the regular bunch, and I don't think they like that."

(Also, group name? Series title?)

(Tavern. They're called Taverns.)

They went in and Aksel found the biggest table around. A cultist sat at a nearby table, glancing at all the occupied tables, including Aksel's. They sat down.

Falin sighed and stretched as she sat down. "Even if I'm getting pulled into some other big mess, it's nice to be around friends for once. It's been too long."

"So, another Bosmer? And as a hero, too?" He took out his hand to shake Falin. "Personally, I'm not that type of guy."

Falin shook his hand. "I don't exactly see myself as the hero type either by any means."

"Good to know." Aksel glanced over at the cultist. He wasn't observing the other tables anymore; he had a deathly stare aiming at his table.