Discussing politics, sharing a drink

I decide to seize the opportunity before me, and finally get some real dialogue going with one of the more obscure, rarer races of the land. Speaking with some booze in her belly should open Urta up a little more than in other situations, I think to myself. Deciding to attempt to take some degree of control of the situation, I slide a large oak table in front of the chair Urta occupies, and place a wooden chair across from her. She sets her bottle of strong amber liquid in front of her, along with a small shotglass.

"Let's discuss some matters." I say, "I will be King very soon, and I want to make sure all races and cultures are given a voice, even if some paranoid peasantry would disagree."

Ceoske, the wolf-girl from before, takes notice of this, sensing we're about to speak about important matters. She motions to the recovering Ibha, and they head out the door after making a feeble attempt to clean up some of the mess from before, scooping the cum from the table into a beer pitcher, of all things.

After watching them leave, I turn around to find Urta now wearing a surprisingly fancy dress, at least by the standards to be found out here. She's tucked her big cock up her dress, which amusingly does little to hide it from the world. I wonder to myself how she would conceal such a large member in a more public place.

"Shure, Lord Aerin, lesh *hic* shpeak" she says, only slightly wobbling with her apparent intoxication and afterglow of the sex I had just walked in on. "I hear you gotta get married. I wash married onshe, believe it or not." She looks only a little distant while saying this, seeing to be recalling something, before snapping back to the conversation at hand. "Before we get down *hic* to bishness, have a drink, Lord Aerin."