Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20151017130502/@comment-25828117-20151023213646

That next day when Alain and his riders were in the Imperial City.

-

The morning was grey and humid. The sound of clopping horse hooves on the cobblestone streets were the definite catalyst that made Alain wake up from his uncomfortable slumber. The Breton made a soft groan into his pillow, completely devoid of any will to get up and face the responsibilities of the day. He had wrestled himself way too nicely between his warm sheets.

A few minutes passed when a woman walked in without knocking. Alain looked meekly up at his uncalled visitor and only noticed in his discombobulated state that she wore a white bonnet and had her sleeves rolled up. It was the maid. Funnily enough she didn't seem to mind too much that the room was still occupied, and opened the windows after which she started cleaning the desk with a napkin, showing quite some elbow grace.

Alain muttered something inaudible, probably to express his discontent about the current situation he found himself in but she just replied with a chipper: "Mornin' sir!"

The Breton noble scratched his arm and yawned, his still tiny eyes adjusting to the influx of daylight. He had gone to bed in a quite drunken state. So perhaps he had the Colovian highland wine to thank for his mood. The empty bottles on the night stand seemed to suggest so.

"I don't recall calling you in here?" He said, frowning at the lady. Wishing to make obvious his confusion.

"I know you didn't. It don't work like that in here." She replied bluntly whilst collecting the empty cups that were strewn across the floorboards.

Alain groaned. His back hurt as he got up; these weren't the soft Hammerfellian mattresses he was accustomed to at home. And then it dawned on him. He remembered nothing about yesterday from after the run in with the strange Dunmer. This certainly wasn't the inn they had booked into yesterday morning.

"Excuse me, miss." The Breton asked.

"But... Where am I exactly?"

The woman looked down at the guest.

"In bed." She answered dryly.

Alain grinned. He couldn't exactly argue with that.

"I suppose I am." He admitted to that fair judgement, although he didn't exactly need the maid's council to stipulate that fact. Though, The Breton was awake and well now.

"Hah, Alright. Could you please leave for a moment while I change into my clothes?"

"No."

-

Alain walked down the wooden steps of the inn, slightly miffed. each one of these creaked harder than the last. Wherever this inn was it certainly wasn't one in the better end of town. This was made more evident by the stench of goat shit that seemed to permeate around the ground floor.

The lord in his golden armor felt faintly ridiculous. Well aware that his presence clashed with the overall picture of the inn. Rather sheepishly he walked up to the counter and asked the Innkeeper where his friend, Percival was.

The innkeeper knew to tell him he was being looked after by his wife in the room next to his. This made Alain remember some of what happened last night and he thanked the man for his services, by means of word and coin. However, Alain did not go up again to check on his friend... He still felt guilty. Whatever that Dunmer had said to him at the Merchant's Inn yesterday, it still haunted him somewhat. And it made him unwilling to talk to Percival just yet. Soon, after he had finally done what he came here for he would. But not now.

With that thought of self-justified procrastination Alain stepped out and made way to the Imperial Palace. Glad that the thing was practically unavoidable to miss, so he knew perfectly where to go.