Sex Magick

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"The Frozen Hearth. How fitting" you think wryly, before shifting closer to the dying fire in a vain attempt to conserve some heat. It's glowing embers were the only persistent bane to the pressing gloom. The Inn was fairly deserted; the only other patron being a solitary Altmer who kept his face hidden beneath a grey mages' cowl. He feverishly took notes while munching on some bread. You'd heard the keepers refer to him as Nelacar.

The keepers were pleasant enough. A stern auburn women with high set cheekbones named Haran who often argued with her hangdog husband Dagur. He may be falling on hard times, but he was a lucky man with a wife like that.

She was definitely not the most well endowed woman in Skyrim, but she made up for it by being incredibly well toned. All the trips to the cellar had molded her figure into an hourglass worthy of Akatosh himself. Despite her simple dress, her brusque manner and sharp tongue gave her an almost regal aura. There was no doubt who wore the pants in this relationship, (especially considering the tight ass she'd flaunt in one)

"Ale's gone dry"

"And you decide to tell me this now?" She snapped. "The last cask took half an hour to haul up those stairs, and that was between the both of us!"

Her husband just sighed. "Forget it, I'll just ask the guards for a hand when they clock off. They're always in here for a drink anyway."

"What does that say about us? I'm not about to bother our guests because of your incompetence."