A Healer's Despair

Drunken Predicament

(Content Warning - This passage may include some of the follow, but is not strictly limited to:
Violence/Torture
Blood/Self-Healing
Alcohol Use
Kidnapping/Abduction
Physical/Emotional Abuse
Potentially Disturbing Scenes

Read at your own risk and remember to enjoy.)

Sitting on a stool inside the inn was a Khajiit scholar wearing a purple robe along with a necklace with a charm that hung to just about her chest on a chain. Her fur when shining in the light could be seen as a dark brown with black stripes, her ears tall and a bit wider than a regular Khajiit's makeup and a muzzle that extended from her face. Her nose was the perfect size in conjunction with the rest of her face and sat between two colorful eyes, the right blue and the left yellow.

She stood suddenly, her body now stood at full height and she was shorter than a normal Khajiit, but not by much so and the robe seemed to hug her form quite well, showing somewhat wide hips and breasts just big enough for a medium sized hand. The stripes would be visible all over her body and extended to her paws as they held a tankard in her right. The other paw came crashing down on the counter with each strike from her fist as she sang and drummed along to a bard singing "Ragnar the Red" while he strummed his lute from the corner.

"Ohhhh~ there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red, who came riding to Whiterun from olé' Roriksteaaaaaad~. And the Braggart did swagger and brandish his blade as he told of bold battles and gold he had maaaaaade."

Her voice, though slurred from drink, carried much louder than the bard's throughout the tavern which made the argonian behind the bar prickle with annoyance.

"But then he went quiet, did Ragnar the Red when he met the shieldmaiden, Matilda who saaaaaid.. Oh you talk and you lie and you drink all our mead so I think it's high time that you lie down and bleeeeeed!"

A soft giggle came from the Khajiit before she continued.

"And so then came clashing and slashing of steel as the brave lass Matilda charged in full of zeeeaaaaallll!"

Tankard to her lips, she emptied the rest of its contents with a swift tilt of her head back, cheering and slamming down her tankard on the counter,

"And the braggart named Ragnar was boastful no mooore!"

She shouted the final line louder than her drunken singing thus far, "When his ugly red-head rolled around on the floooor!"

With her laughter bellowing out into the inn, she flagged Keerava down to refill her empty cup.

"Oi... Keraaaavaaa~" she slurred, "Why don't ya fill mi tankard with hic summore of that good stuff..."

Shaking her head at the khajiit's antics, the argonian picked up the discarded tankard and instead of refilling, began to clean it with a rag she pulled from her apron.

"I don't think so, Khajiit."

"And why... the hic not.?"

"You're drinking my kegs dry."

"That's kinda... the point."

Throughout this conversation, the Khajiit was swaying on her feet.

"Well, I can't in good faith give you another ale when you're disrupting the sleep of my customers with your screeching, now can I?"

"Screeching?!"

The drunkard leaned forward in exaggerated offence, bracing herself with both paws on the counter.

"I'll hic have you know that I am a traveling bard and there pleeenty.. of people who find this singin to their satisfaction."

Keerava could only roll her eyes and gesture her head towards the door.