Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-26446054-20150827123016/@comment-29458028-20150830134908

Raytheon sat quietly in the corner of an inn, sipping an ale quietly. He wasn't a very large guy, and while he was taller than the average Breton, he was quite skinny, and he didn't look extremely manly either. If Nords had a reason to pick on him, they probably would. He was a scrawny Breton with a girly face after all.

Sure enough, a burly Nord swaggered into the seat opposite Raytheon and said "heh, small guy, what about this? We have a small arm wrestle, and if I win, you pay me a 100 septims. If you win, I'll pay you the same amount. On?'

"Well, you're gonna have to pay me. Let's get this over and done with as quick as possible, and you leave me alone" said Raytheon as he raised his hand and grasped the Nord's muscular hand with his own slim and feminine hand. A group of rowdy customers gathered around the two and started to place bets.

It started. The Nord seemed to struggle for a moment, before Raytheon just slammed his hand into the table hard enough to shake it. The Bretonic Pretty Boy looked unfazed, as if it was a small effort for him.

"Pay up ... and whoever bothered to bet on me, I guess you have a windfall..."