The objects littering the shelves look more like accumulated clutter than carefully-picked ornaments: a trio of purple soul gems, facets glinting in the light; a couple of pewter tankards decorated with embossed stags; spare paper and charcoal. The books are tidier, though there's not much order to them. Jim probably won't be surprised to find the big tome left out is a well-used catalogue of armor and weapon styles from all over Tamriel, accompanied by detailed illustrations. There are concessions to more general interests, though - a couple of history books, a small collection of novels.

Not that there's much time to examine them, of course. Marcella looks amused as she sets the cakes down, pulling a small table out into the middle of the room. "Hah! He does, doesn't he? I didn't quite plan it, mind - our uncle was already on his way down to visit when Felix sent his letter..."

She's interrupted by the other voices coming their way: Felix is joking about the food in Skyrim, but that cuts off as soon as he enters the room, ale bottles in hand. "Jim! Ah- this is my uncle Terentius, down from Bruma. Uncle, this is Captain James Kirk."

"Captain, eh? A sailor or a soldier?" The older man beside him sets down a bunch of mugs and gives Jim an amicable smile as he bows. He's darker than Felix and heavier-set, but there's a resemblance to both cousins in his features - and Jim's clearly found where Felix got that easy grin.