Is It Wrong To Be A Khajiit In A Dungeon

The street was bustling as always despite the moon started to loom overhead. Sometimes reminding him, when he got the rare chance to walk the street across the night to buy something for his overtime. Though sometimes, they got mischief and drank at the nearby pub instead or bought the entire bottle's worth of joint and partying inside the office.

Of course, it didn't end well for next month's payroll. God, the punishment although light, promptly reminds him when the time of his youth and school-time. Sniffling outside the class, alone, with two buckets in his hands and a sign that he repented, shame on you. Life is idyllic, nothing to worries about yet he yearns the lives he currently lived, slaving and wasting away all of it.

The adventurers just got away from their so-adventure deep inside the dungeon. Eager to spend their well-earned Valis in various establishments Orario could offer or they… can go straight home to their Familia instead. Only rookies tend to do that, or un/lucky enough to be dragged by their seniors.

He ought to check the dungeon once and sooner, while curiosity of wonder inside the dungeon peeked his tail, the rush sense of battles within him peaked above it. The Dragonblood inside would boil and demand something. He can't shake his head either, this is his nature from now on, only he can accept it and integrated it as part of his own. Whether the tendencies to kleptomaniac were to be shown, a sense to loot every object laid in his sight, stab every vulnerable back or decapitate it… for the name of a few. The Dragonborn characteristics befit an unpredictable protagonist inside the game truly show its wonder to him.

Everyone could see the tank of a man striding forward, back standing tall in confidence. A mark of obscurity dr.a.p.ed the figures in rustic armor and chainmail that hidden beneath the ragged robes. Yet, the head, the helmet has shown an extravagance and intricate the details of crimson and gold as cross slit diagonally and horizontally intersected in the middle of the helmet. Various foreign words in golden trim were etched on the belts encircling the man. A gauntlet of steel webbed by various neckpiece or chains that could easily found in the old temple of the past and their believers alas all of this might have faded in the mind of common rabbles, a distant memory when the god still sat firmly in their throne.

Despite all of that, the man's gait created a lasting impression. A powerful man indeed, the sword is just a mere mundane one, yet creating a menacing but benevolent aura that this man is not something to be messed up with, and still within approachable area. Alas, none still cares as they still went their own way and only glanced slightly before resuming their business. For he is only many amongst the brethren that seek the same fortune within the dungeon. For many donned mightier armor and weapon of the divines than his grimy poor of defense. For many are stronger than the man, only a speck of dust amongst the opportunist souls that chase the same shadows of wealth and power.

Only cold indifference and cordial understanding between the people and him linked, I don't care as long as they didn't interfere with anything related to me. Such is the will of civilization. Such is the way people worked. The step of steel, boots, and cuffs resounded creating harmony within the streets as the man stops his feet.

Hostess of Fertility

The sound of laughter and complain sang the front of the pub as many others entered the establishment, mostly with groups or alone to drink their problems away.

The sight of people created an impressive first impression of the popularity of the pub. He instinctively licked his lip beneath the helmet, hopefully, they had a good drink… or information for that matter.

His intention was only to walk aimlessly on the street, hoping the wind would catch his ears. Still, a bar is a staple source of information and rumors as stated by many movies, and the book he read. He made sure to erase his smells, and the only faint scent still lingering and can be mistaken with those to cat people residing in this world.

Precaution is necessary, anytime and anywhere. With his silent chanting, he could manipulate his appearances at least his faces, for a brief of time without anyone noticing. The process was rather delicate than he expected as the bulk up mana needs to be shaped as quick, and small possible akin to transferring water through a straw. Silent but unlike it, he needed to push it away in quick succession for a faster rate of chanting not to mention he needed to have a firm image of the magical effect he intended to create.

Anyway, he walked past the door, hearing another boisterous laughter and crying at the same time.

"Hey! Do you see that Miach! Bell-kun is mine you know, he's my first child and yet he always comes back home with the scent of a different woman!"

Cried the… woman? He peeked slightly to his sides, yes, she's a woman. Not a child, yes, not a child. None even a.d.u.l.t healthy woman had knocker as huge as a ripe green melon. And I'm sure no matter the world, only individuals recognized as a.d.u.l.ts will be allowed to drink. Perhaps, she's another midget race, Pallum if he heard right. No, he could something otherworldly from them, and the scent smells holy akin to the presence of Aedra or Daedra, so she's god.

Her partner, a fellow god with soft traits in his eyes only smiled weakly at the complaining goddess in front of him.

"Don't be like that Hestia, I'm sure Bell only work alongside them to achieve something inside the dungeon. And how can you smell woman scent on him anyway?"

The goddess in question only shoots him a deadpan and listless stare as she gulped another tankard and ordering for more.

"It's the power of L-O-V-E! and how can I stand the side but see his grin and mutter of Allen-whatnot in his sleep!"

Exclaimed the goddess, still pouring the beverage in her god tier of lungs capacity and slamming the makeshift barrel table in a high thud.

Another god besides them drank a hearty gulp before wiping the foam away, his looks are dreamy and far away.

"Haha! That's the spirit, Hestia! When in doubt, do the Seiza or even the ultimate Dogeza, I'm sure your Bell-kun will spit everything!"

No enemy is far worse than a piece of bad advice much coming from a drunken man, even god. He would love to follow suit, of the rationalist member of the drunkard party that is shaking their head in a sigh.

He leaves the group of the god alone, eyeing the big pub before settling on the dark corner of the bar. Looks like Fels word were true, god is as much as childish as their children. Though he didn't want to see what he heard as getting caught in god curiosity rumor in this city.

He settled the wooden stool beside another… a suspicious individual with a velvet cloak and hood covering their figure.

The inside was even more crowded than the outside with waitress displaying professionalism in their work, carrying multiple tankards, the food at once slipping past the jam-packed building like an eel to skin. Though the adventurers displayed much-civilized manner and behavior than he expected from a violent and menacing people in the age where civility could have resorted with violence.

"Your order?"

Called the big-gruff of a woman behind the bar, she certainly could make Tsun the guardian of Sovngarde felt excitement in the air after Millenia of facing milk-drinker.

"Give this one your strongest stuff around."

"Hmph, don't blame me if you end up behind the alleys with a big mark of hot fist after this."

"Heh, this one had a liquor tasted from the god himself, though he got away with more than just ending up in an alley."

The woman snorted, before laughing.

"I like your spirit! An adventurer has his right to taste adventure, aren't they? Though, don't mess up in this establishment, once mishap I hear I smash them to the bone right through the pavement outside. Some tried, but only found their head buried six feet under and never see the light again, you hear that."

"Yes, yes, this one always hears. They call M'aiq the liar, but he always listens like a good little kitty he is."

"Hm, good. What a strange ball of odd you are, I have never heard such a peculiar way of talk before. New to the city? I'm Mia Grande by the way."

She handed Him the tankard. The beverage felt warm before He gulped a bit of it through the opening of his helmet. A strong odor washed through His mouth before the throat could accept it but he pushed it away earning a big gulp from him and a powerful yet satisfying sigh he let out.

"This one called M'aiq. Poor M'aiq lives in the desert until he traveled far to the north and the cold, fur freezing climate of the mountain and somehow the road leads M'aiq this way."

"Heh, so you're one of those Tribal people, never heard them so much surviving in the city these days. Poor people had to adapt or face the consequences."

"Ah, cultural shock, yes. But M'aiq is different you see, he's strong, he's sword is as big as his brain."

"We'll see about that in a few days, come back to me if you're not chewed inside the dungeon and I'll treat you with a special discount. For now, I had another customer to be serviced."

With that she went to another side of the bar, chatting with another customer or ordering the waitress around as they scurried away in hurry of the Mia booming face in an already rowdy establishment.

"Hmm yes, yes, M'aiq will come back if he still alive that is. M'aiq understands."

He gulped another tankard before another slamming reverberated the wooden bar… not him, but beside him.

"This world's unfair! Because I wanted to come back but they won't even let me!"

She shrieked but another paid no heed of her to complain amongst the busy souls chatting with their comrade.

"Woah, peace be with you, Miss. Trouble will seek life no matter where they go, now drink and forget!"

He offered his tankard, she faced him with a flushed face as hiccup accompanying her sorrow. She raised the cup and collided with his, before drinking the remaining liquid inside away.

"Hic… even when I grovel beneath her feet… hic… she won't even let me stay… hic…" Oh the snot, the snot the beautiful snot wrecked her heavenly features of a face. What a pity, such fine specimen to be swallowed in the dark recesses of depression.

"My pride shattered… hic… even though she's my sister… hic… I'll kill her the next… hic… time we met!" He promptly swapped her empty cup with another one filled with gr.a.p.e water.

"Now that's the spirit! Vengeance is the path to destruction they said, a bunch of utters fools that are too hypocrites to even faced their own shadow, now drink!"

Heh, no one would think to add the fuel into the fire. Nevertheless, he exactly knows what the woman need is only a brief respite he could give.

"Hic… for vengeance!" She raised her cup, cheering with him. See, even in the corner, he had his own party. A small party of an odd armored of man and his hooded companion, if seen by an outside party that not keen to intrude their small space.

"Hail Sithis!"

"Hail Sit… hic… this!"

"Hmm, he would be proud of that."

"Hic... Yeah, Hail Sithis… Hic!"

The hour passed by, the woman seems to have high integrity of duty, or senses as she tried to wobble her way to the outside and dark night. Occasionally leaning on the pillar, slow but surely, she reached the door.

Sigh, a breath caught his inner mind as he drank the last sip inside. Sometimes, glancing left and right, he didn't get some information he wanted, but some insight into this world could prove useful as such this is not a complete waste of time. He rather had a good time, but the side felt cold and lonely even if the building won't stop pouring new customers inside in this late night.

Deciding to end the night, he throws a sack of Valis beside the bar before making his way outside. With an Intent inside to chase a shadow.