Skyrim One-Shots (FT: My Travellers Of Tamriel)

Erlirria Meets Lucien

The Khajiit noted that his attention turned back to her.
As she popped off the cork of her mead with a claw, she took a swig before turning back to him.
"I don't like your attitude, Orc." She stated, swiping a bristled tongue across her lips.

"What are you gonna do? Cry?" He taunted.
The Khajiit he opposed swept her tail towards another stool, curling the tip around one of the legs.
She took another swig and tightened her grip on the chair.

"Back off. Now. Or I will get angry." She hissed, her ears drawing back and causing her piercings to jingle.
The Orc's face twisted in disgust.
"I don't have to take that from a milk drinker like you!" He grumbled, trying to stand in an attempt to retaliate.

The Khajiit seized her opportunity and yanked the stool out from beneath the Orc, causing him to fall on to the floor with a great thud.
The Cat snatched his flying bottle out of the air before its contents could spill on to the floor, placing it carefully on the bar.
The inn fell silent for a moment and eyes turned to look upon the Orc where he scrambled up to dust himself off.

Erlirria put down her mead and stood up, righting the stool and turning towards the Orc with narrowed eyes.
He felt no need to stick around as he promptly grabbed his bottle and stumbled out of the inn.
The customers turned towards the Khajiit, who sighed greatly.

"Forgive me, this goes no furthur. As you were."
She swung her legs back around her own chair and continued to drink her mead, relishing the sweet and alcoholic taste it brought.
Another figure sat down beside her, causing the fur of her tail to bristle again in anticipation.

"Um... excuse me madam. I don't normally this, but erm...have you got a moment to talk?"
The Khajiit turned to lock eyes with an Imperial man with golden hair and stubble of equal colour.
He wore simple green and brown noble robes with accents of gold, brown pants, and a pair of black boots.

The Khajiit relaxed, sighing over having almost blown up in his face because of what just happened.
"Of course, go ahead." She stated, drinking again.
"Marvellous!" He stated happily, he extended a hand towards her.

"My name is Lucien Flavius. I'm a scientist, philosopher, amateur wizard and something of a musician, though I suppose that's more of a hobby." He explained.
Erlirria took his hand and shook it politely. "A pleasure, Lucien. Carry on."
"I couldn't help but notice how you dealt with that Orc fellow. You seem...how can I put this...well acquainted with the less savoury side of things?"

"I've seen a thing or two. Do you need help with something?" She asked, breaking her sweetroll into bits so she could eat it easier.
"As a matter of fact, I do. I'm here in Skyrim on an expedition - academic mainly. I find the province simply fascinating! The flora, the fauna, the ruins - both Dwemer and Nordic..." He noticed Erlirria giving him a particularly bored look as she was chewing a piece of sweetroll.

He cleared his throat and continued.
"Trouble is, I'm not much of a fighter. I know a few spells and can just about swing as sword, but beyond that I'm pretty much useless in combat." He admitted, scratching the nape of his neck as he chuckled half-heartedly.

"Skyrim's no place for a 'milk drinker' like me. Not on my own, anyway! So, I'm looking for someone to travel with." He stated.
Erlirria put a hand against her furred chin, giving it a small scratch with the back of her claws.
"Go on." She stated, intrigued.

Lucien's eyes lit up hopefully.
"I suppose what I'm asking is...would you awfully mind if I...tag along? I will of course compensate you most handsomely for putting up with me." He asked.
Erlirria's ears perked at the mention of coin.

She took another swig of her mead and nodded her head.
"How much are we talking?" She asked after swallowing.
"Oh, shall we say... three hundred septims up-front? After that I'll top you up every time we come across something useful to my research!"