"So we get to the tomb. And all the fucking Reavers that have been living in the place have run off and barricaded the doors, so whatever is in there just has to be that much worse."
It's late; last call at the Netch, and Teldryn Sero and his patron Ceirin, have themselves an undivided audience. Glover is leaning in, eyes gleaming in anticipation. Geldis has taken a break and is seated at their table, sharing a last round with them before counting out the till for the night. His apron is off, his hair is down, and his feet are up on the chair next to him. Bralsa and Rirns are nodding along from their spots at the bar. There's a group of miners gathered at the table next to them whose names they don't know, but who are all turning to listen now as well. Even Drovas is pretending to be sweeping up near enough to overhear.
"And we get inside and the place is a cursed mess. Blood, rotten food, a couple dead Reavers, it smells terrible. They left everything behind." The audience nods, some make faces.
"Don't forget that weird one we found." Ceirin interrupts before his face is hidden behind his drink.
"I'm getting to that." Teldryn rolls his eyes and takes a swallow from his own mug.
"So we're headed down to the lower levels and there, at the bottom of the stairs, is this thing."
"We didn't know what it was" Ceirin shakes his head.
"Never seen anything like it. Bug- like though. Too many legs" The spellsword is talking with his hands, animated gestures illustrating. He pauses to take another drink.
"Well, it's already dead, so we keep moving. But as we're creeping down the hall, we start to hear a noise." His voice lowers for effect. He scratches his fingernails on the tabletop to make sounds. Several people shudder.
"So, obviously, there are more of these creatures." Ceirin's too loud. His pronunciation is too precise, even so he slurs just a little at the end.
"Right you are. So there are more of them. Only we can't see where or how many. So we're sneaking and trying to be quiet. And we get to the end of the hall and there's another noise. How'd you describe it?" Teldryn points at Ceirin.
"Squishy! It was a squishy noise." Ceirin is giggling softly, exhaling fast through his nose, lips pressed together to hold it in.
"So now there's a squishy sort of noise on top of the bug legs noise." Teldryn nods.
"What in Oblivion was in this place?" Rirns is shaking his head along with the rest.
"Getting to that."
"Ceirin has point, and he's looking into the room ahead and he sees something. So he's trying to motion to me what it is. And he's doing fine with all of this.. ." Teldryn's shoulders are shaking with laughter now too, but he points to his eyes and then points forward to indicate the gestures. Folks are nodding.
"But then he gets to what the thing is that he's looking at. And there's where he loses me because suddenly its gestures like this," He waves his hand in a circle, "And faces like this." He makes a grossed- out face and moves both hands like he's patting at something in between his palms.
"I'm not familiar with any of those signals. Where did you learn those?" Glover heckles Ceirin.
"Do you know this one?" Ceirin, laughing, raises his middle finger.
"Now that one I know." Glover raises his mug and taps it against the altmer's finger, grinning back.
"Anyway, at this point I know I've lost him, so I try again, only more dramatic, bigger gestures, right?" Ceirin goes through it all again. By the time he's through people are slapping tables, stomping, and laughing so hard they're wiping tears away.
Teldryn has his hand up over his eyes, he can't even watch.
"So what did you do?" Geldis asks. Drovas is leaning on his broom, so engrossed in the story he's forgotten to even pretend to work.
"Well, I lost my shit." Teldryn says it so matter of fact that it sends them all into hilarity.
"I mean, I'm crouched there in the corner, my arm up over my mouth, I can't breathe, I'm trying so hard not to laugh. Because if I laugh, then bug things will hear me and we'll die. And somehow that just made it so much funnier."
"What did it turn out to be?" Bralsa prompts from her seat at the bar.
"This thing I can see, it's like an egg or something and it's moving, that's what the gestures were; my gross pulsating egg thing gestures." Ceirin motions again.
"And now that I know that, it makes sense." Teldryn agrees.
There are nods and chuckles all around the room.
"So I shoot this thing, and it explodes. Slime gets everywhere." His gestures are too big and he almost knocks over his mug as he goes to set it down.
"Hate it when that happens." Glover can't resist interrupting.
Various good natured guffaws, wolf whistles and jeers are directed at the blacksmith.
"After that the room seems clear so we go ahead and enter. And we're looking around. And we hear the bug legs noise again. Coming up really fast this time." Teldryn stops to take a drink and Ceirin picks up the story again.
"I have maybe a split second, just a blur of motion and this thing is jumping right up off the floor and it goes straight for Teldryn's face." Ceirin stops to drain his drink. "I yell. He hits the floor."
"It never even hit me, just blows up right in front of me in midair. So I go down not knowing what's happened. And after its quiet for a bit, we both get back up." Teldryn fills in.
"Which is when I have to tell him," Ceirin smirks at Teldryn's rueful expression, "that he has flaming bug guts stuck in his hair."
Groans and laughter sound around the room.
"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the tale of Teldryn's new haircut." Ceirin sketches a little mock bow to the room. Scattered applause, more humorous whistles, jeers, and teasing.
Teldryn salutes and nods with resigned good humor.
Folks stand up and begin to file out for the evening. Geldis goes back to the bar to close out and Drovas goes back to sweeping as little as possible.
Glover stands as well, stretching, before he turns to Teldryn with a sympathetic grin.
"Your helmet should be ready day after tomorrow. Sorry about the hair." He reaches out and ruffles the dunmer's noticeably shorter mohawk.
He ducks out, chuckling to himself, before Teldryn can take a swing at him for doing so.