Male fugitive Blade lines

And what? Cut me down and bring back my head for your Thalmor owners? They send their oblivious lapdog for me instead of their own.

I guess that Insult is just supposed to rub salt in the wound. So, what will it be? My head, or yours?

Oh, so we still have men in the empire who don't kneel to their Elven overlords? A rarity your employer is. And I hope your feelings are mutual.

I see that you've spent blood to get here, and you could have came at me instead of wasting breath on words.

And I'm old, and very, very tired from all the running I've had to do since the War. I don't know what your game is and I can't escape it.

So go back to your employer, and forget I was here. Or not... Either way, I'll have the rest I've sought after at last.

Who are you?! Speak clearly or your next words may find you an early grave.

Another mad Thalmor dog that lusts for the taste of my blade. Have at me then.