Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-10197675-20140107195049/@comment-3293219-20140111003050

Sinir had wandered into the Bridge inn, though he was baffled, because he didn't see any bridges in the inn's immediate vacinity.

He entered the busy tavern, several hill walkers had gathered to begin their expedition into the nearby mountains, so the atmosphere was mostly positive. A few old, drunken dunmer kind of killed the mood, by glaring at anyone who wasn't one of them.

Sinir ran over to the only table without a dunmer sat at it, hoping that the person occupying it didn't beat him to death. The table was occupied by an orc of all things...

"Who the hell are you?" He demanded, beer dripping down his black beard.

"Me? I'm Sinir... erm... I'm new here." The khajit stumbled.

"I can tell, anyone who'd been here longer than a few hours, would know that I don't take kindly to piss ants who sit at my table, uninvited!" The orsimer replied, aggressively.

So far, things seemed to be going great, at least by Sinir's standards. The orc hadn't threatened to beat him up or kill him yet, so he was in for a shot of winning this big brute's affection.

"Woah, I didn't mean anything by it... just didn't want to have my throat slit by those scary dunmer guys over there." He mumbled, nervously, gesturing to the old drinkers.

The orc turned around and looked back over to him, unimpressed. "Those guys? They ain't shit!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I took 'em all on, the other night." He replied, proudly, he drew his other hand from under the table and slammed it onto the surface, his hand seemed to be missing and a frame protected his forearm. "I took on, one handed!" he laughed.