Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-29461586-20150602035155/@comment-5583506-20150604023852

(Sure)

Rags was fairly easy to find. Khemri only needed to find his way to the closest gambling den. The thin Khajiit had a gambling problem even though he didn't want to admit it. Back in the old days he had wasted more gold than he could ever hope to accumulate.

And there he was. Rags looked hollow-eyed, indicating he didn't sleep well at night and probably because of the fact that he had taken up drinking. He was sitting in a ring with generally untrustworthy-looking people. Bretons, Bosmer and one or two Redguards were all cheering as the flea-bitten and scrawny Khajiit tossed his dices, showing two threes as they turned up.

He gave out a groan of disappointment as the others laughed at his misery. He then took up the closest skooma bottle and began to drink from it heavily.

Khemri knocked the bottle out of his hand.

"Hey, just what the actual fuck do you think you are?!" groaned Rags incoherently. "Khajiit will fuck you up badly, you hear?!"

Khemri slapped him hard across the face, causing the meagre Khajiit to come to his senses. "Sharpen up, Rags. It is this one. Khemri, no?"

Rags slowly widened his eyes. "Khemri? This one hasn't heard of or seen you in three years. Where have you been at?"

"Long story. Where are the others?" Rags looked as if he was about to say something but was interrupted as Khemri shoved him out of the gambling den. "Let's just go and find someplace nice and quiet already. Where we can talk undisturbed."