Icebreaker

When I came out of the smith's house, I couldn't see Mauronk anywhere. He may have been a bit of a pain, but he was the only person I knew. Other than Ralof, that is, who had also disappeared. There were no handy little arrows over people's heads, telling you they were important to the questline, so I didn't know where the guy ran off to, nor was I likely to find him in town. All these Nords looked alike, with their pale skin and long, dirty blond hair.

Except for the guy running the Riverwood Trader. I stepped in there, looking for some civvies. The proprietor had darker hair, cut short. He might have been a Breton. He was also agitated, and I soon learned why.

"Why they would steal that, and nothing else," he was complaining to a woman sitting at a nearby table trying to read a book.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"Yes, I've been robbed," the man grumbled. "A golden dragon claw. I have no idea why anyone would take it."

"Well, is it made of gold?" I suggested. Really, did I have to state the obvious?

"Of course!" he cried. "Solid, too. Beautiful thing. Can't remember where I got it, and it's been sitting here on the counter for the longest time. Conversation starter, you know," he said proudly. "People come around to see it, and while they're here..." He spread his hands out, indicating the well-stocked shelves.

"So... thieves made off with it, eh?" I asked. This was starting to sound very familiar. "Are you, perhaps, interested in getting it back?"

"Would you do that for me?" he asked hopefully. "The thieves came from the Barrow up in the mountains. Bleak Falls, they call it."

Ah. That's why it was familiar. "Sure. You've got yourself a deal. I'll just need to... track down my partner. Probably head out in the morning."

"Wonderful. You see? There are good people left in the world," he told the woman smugly. She waved her hand negligently and kept on reading.

Now I just had to find Mauronk and talk him into this. We were going to get sent into that place by the Jarl's magical stooge anyway. Might as well get it out of the way.

I spent a few coins on a couple of outfits, just so I'd have something other than armor to wear, and headed over to the Inn. As luck would have it, I saw Mauronk deep in 'conversation' with a scruffy-looking guy in a corner. I was somewhat relieved that he hadn't ditched me, but a little put out by the obvious signs that he'd spent all this time drinking away the few coins we had. In fact, it looked like they were having some kind of contest, judging by the number of upturned empty glasses already on the table. A few other men were standing around giving encouraging words and laughing loudly. Pretty disgusting tableau, to my way of thinking.

The barkeep sold me some dinner and rented me a room for the night. I managed to talk him into having someone run a bath for me. I swear, I smelled like burned wood. It was irritating.

By the time I finished off my meal, a steaming tub was waiting for me in my room. My goodness, it was delicious. I soaked in that thing for hours, it seemed. Only the falling temperature of the water coaxed me out of it. It only occurred to me after I'd toweled off that I didn't have any pajamas. Oh well. The sheets were cleaner than I expected, so what the hell? I settled in as I was. It wasn't long before I'd fallen asleep.

Without clocks, I had no idea what time it was when I was woken by the door of my room opening. I damn near jumped out of my skin, then froze like a deer in the headlights, hoping whoever was coming in wouldn't see me. I caught a glimpse of the person's form in the light cast by the firelight in the common room, and started.

It was Mauronk, staggering in, barely able to properly navigate. He closed the door with a bang, and leaned against it for a moment, rubbing his face. Then he headed toward the bed, peeling off his clothes along the way. Once he got near, he leaned precariously over and dragged something out from under the bed. I could hear it scraping on the wood floor, and wondered what the hell it was, until I heard him relieving himself into it. Ah, chamberpot, I guessed. God, I hoped he was coherent enough not to miss. Letting loose a thunderous belch and an equally noisy fart, he finished up and turned toward the bed.

Of course, I probably should have said something, but he was obviously drunk, and I didn't know him well enough to trust his reaction should he realize he wasn't alone. And it was pretty obvious he had no idea he'd just walked into the wrong room. My best bet, as far as I could see it, was to lay low and hope he was too out of it to notice me. Sure enough, he practically collapsed on the bed, pulled the blanket over his body, and fell almost instantly into deep sleep.

I almost let out a shaky, relieved laugh when he started snoring, but kept quiet. There was an acrid tinge to his scent because of the lousy day we'd had. In fact he smelled like an alehouse that had burned down. I decided I'd gently suggest he bathe come morning. Do us both a favor.

After awhile, I relaxed enough to go back to sleep. It was a damn good thing it was a full-sized bed, and not a single, though I wasn't entirely thrilled with the idea that my side of the bed was up against the wall, so I was effectively trapped between a rock and a hard place.

The early morning light streaming feebly through the smudged windows stirred me awake. I cracked my eyes open a slit, just to see if he was still there. Mauronk hadn't moved, still lying flat on his back with his mouth slightly open as he snuffled softly. One arm was slung over his head, the other next to him with his hand resting on his chest. He seemed to be in a lighter stage of sleep, and would likely wake more easily now.

"Mauronk," I ventured timidly. He grunted, still not quite surfacing. "Mauronk, I really have to pee."

"Go pee, then," he muttered.

"I'd love to, but I'd have to climb over you," I replied. I didn't want to mention the fact that I also didn't have a stitch on, and unlike him, wasn't about to parade across the room in front of a total stranger with all my goodies hanging out.

It took him a few seconds to register what I said, do the math, and come to the only logical conclusion available. He opened his eyes and slowly turned his head toward me. I smiled wanly and twiddled my fingers in a wave.

It was the funniest thing I'd ever seen. His dark red eyes flared wide, and he jumped out of the bed like he'd been shot from a cannon. He staggered backward until he ran out of room and slammed into the wall. I might have been some sort of terrifying monster the way he acted. Chuckling, I sat up, holding the blanket to my breasts.

His eyes hit the floor as if he'd never seen a woman in such a state of undress, and didn't want to offend me by staring. Oh, this is rich, I thought. The Nudist meets his match. Mauronk hyperventilated like he was in a state of panic, too.

"I... did I...," he stammered awkwardly. It occurred to me that he was afraid of my answer, which amused me more.

"You mean you don't remember?" I snapped with mock indignation. I hmphed and crossed my arms over my chest. "Gracious, I thought I had more of an impact than that."

He swallowed hard, his whole body trembling. He looked absolutely horrified. Wow. Talk about insulting. I scowled at him. "Shit, Mauronk, you could look a little less like you just drank curdled milk."

"What... what do you want from me?" he asked stiffly.

That wasn't a question I expected. "Huh?"

"The price for your silence," he muttered, still not looking at me. "I have little coin left. A few gems I was holding for a better price. I will give these to you, if you do not... if you tell no one what I have done."

"What?" I cried, completely floored. "You want to give me money?" I snapped. "I'm not a prostitute, for crying out loud! I do not appreciate the implication. And you want me to keep it a secret, too? What, you have a jealous wife somewhere you don't want to piss off?"

"A wife?" he asked incredulously. "Are you stupid? You are human; I am Orsimer."

"Okay," I replied, not so certain now. "I guess maybe the terminology is probably different. A wife is like... a life partner? A mate? Uh... significant other?"

"I know what a wife is," he snarled. "I cannot believe you think I have one."

"Well, why else would you be thinking I'd blackmail you for having sex with me?"

"Please," he said wearily, dropping his head into his hands. "Just... tell me what you want. My life is forfeit if anyone finds out."

"What the hell?" I bellowed. "What kind of fucked up place is this?"

He looked up at me in total confusion. "You... don't understand, do you?"

"Understand what?"

"I am an Orc," he snarled. "You are human. We do not... have sex. Not by choice."

I blinked in surprise. Well, damn. That was an aspect of the game world that never occurred to me. What was worse, he wasn't kidding. He thought something happened that he couldn't remember, and what he thought happened...

"Um... could you... put on some pants or something?" I suggested timidly. "It's a little... awkward."

He fetched his breeches and pulled them on quickly with shaking hands. I patted the bed. "Come on. Have a seat." His brow furrowed, but he obeyed. I shifted forward to sit beside him.

"Okay, just to set the record straight," I said, "nothing happened." He turned his head to look at me uncertainly. I nodded and patted his knee. "You stumbled in, fell on the bed, and didn't move a muscle all night."

"Why did you not say something?" he growled, though I could tell he was covering his relief with annoyance. "I invaded your room. You should have..."

"Honestly, Mauronk. Think about it. I barely know you sober; not at all when you're drunk. How the hell was I supposed to know you'd leave if I said anything?"

He sighed and nodded. "You are right. You could not know."

"And another thing, you should learn a valuable lesson from this," I said. "Drinking yourself into a stupor will just get you in trouble."

He snorted and nodded ruefully.

"Are we okay?"

"Okay?"

"You and me," I clarified. "We're clear. It's all good, right?"

He nodded. I grinned and thumped his back.

"How about you... toddle off to your room and ring up a bath. You smell like a burning village full of drunks."

"That bad?" he asked, tentatively sniffing his arm.

"Oh yeah," I replied. "I wasn't too tasty myself. Hence the bath. Off you go. I'll meet you in the common room for breakfast when you're more... presentable." He let an uncertain smile play around his tusks for a moment. Giving him a push, I 'gently' urged him to get going. He rose, gathered up his clothing, and left.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I got up and finally availed myself of the chamberpot.