Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-7262318-20170128213721/@comment-5583506-20170201234121

Najiima's nose twitched as a couple of children started to poke her with sticks.

"You think it's dead?" a young Imperial boy asked another.

"Keep poking it, I think I saw some movement there", the other said.

She had in her drunken stupor somehow managed to find herself to the pantry of the inn where she had collapsed onto the floor right next to a sack of sceptically fresh potatoes. The innkeeper probably still kept them around in an effort to sell them off. Drunkards  probably  wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

The pirate sat up reluctantly, rubbing her head with a groan as she let out a guttural belch. When the children slowly backed away, she grabbed the stick with an angry growl, causing the youngsters to spin around and make a run for it.

Najiima got up on unsteady legs and stumbled up towards the staircase, bumping her body into the walls as she made her way up from the pantry. In a drunken haze she had slept through most of the commotion that had happened and was now making her way back to the group, wondering if they suffered from the same headache as she was, or whether they were as sober as an Argonian sailor... nailed to the foremast of her ship.

Softly-Smiles couldn't haul rope as fast as he could before with his right hand, but at least he hadn't touched a drink in two years...