Argonian Adventurer (Male)

You push on through the howling blizzard. You curse, again, your decision to try to track down the legendary “Carnal Carnival”, a portal to a Daedric subdimension that supposedly holds a carnival full of sexual delights, overseen by Sanguine.

How are you supposed to find a fricking portal? You can barely see your frozen breath in front of your face.

You take a step forward, fighting off the howling winds, and your foot touches nothingness. You scream, and claw around for a handhold, but everything is covered in ice, and you fall...

You land hard, on a mound of packed snow. It’s a better thing to land on then hard stone, but it still hurts, and you can feel your arm crack from the of the impact. You scream, and then silence yourself. No idea what could be lurking in here.

Okay. Let’s see... You start to chant, rhythmically, slowly, willing the life-energy of the Hist to fill you and fix your body. You flinch as your bones crack back into place.

There. That’s the injuries fixed... You draw your sword, fill your newly-fixed left hand with mage-fire, and set off into the darkness.

You walk for a while, through winding tunnels and ice-coated caverns, with no sound but that of your own footfalls.

Then you hear the music. It’s jolly, and upbeat, and entirely out of place in these dark caves. It sounds almost like the sort of thing you’d hear at a... carnival.

You break into a sprint, rushing through the tunnels towards the music, until you find yourself in a small cave. In front of you, energy swirls. It’s a portal.

You step through, and find yourself on a flat plain. Fences are set up around you in a large rectangle, keeping you separate from what appears to be an endless field of roses, and in the centre of that rectangle stands a large wheel, painted many colours.

The portal’s closed behind you, so you don’t have anything better to do then walk over to the wheel. As you draw closer, you realise that there’s a man standing next to the wheel.

“Ah! Welcome! Welcome to my Carnal Carnival, the fairground of sexual delights! Well, delight. I haven’t had the ideas, or the time, to set up anything besides this.” Sanguine gestures to the wheel behind him.

“The Wheel of Luck! Some fairgrounds might have a game where you pay money to attempt to win more money and fail, but not here! This wheel is one hundred percent random, and it doesn’t pay cash.” He points to a board of closely packed, colour-coded lettering.

“Each of the one hundred colours on the wheel corresponds to a different payout, as noted on that board. Some of them are good, some of them are bad, and some of them are merely strange. Each spin costs a ticket, which you can get at the booth over... wait. Okay, nevermind that. You get... let’s see. You get one ticket for coming.” A note, printed on bright yellow paper, appears in your hand.

“One for the inconvenience of only being able to spend them on this wheel.” Another note appears in your hand.

“And one for the strife you incurred in coming here.” A third, and apparently final, note appears in your hand.

“Well now, don’t be shy, step up, put your ticket in the box and spin the wheel! And you can put your weapons away, by the way.”

You sheathe your blade and dispel your fire, and step up to the wheel. It’s covered in a variety of colours, each of which is supposed to correspond to a different result.

You’ve got three tickets. You take one, and dangle it over the entrance to the box, wondering if you want to do this.