Malg the Magnificent - დიდებული მალგი

Part 2: Dawnstar

          Rough gales of icy winds kicked up snow into Malg's eyes as he and Wiggles-Her-Fingers trudged through ankle-deep slush. It was difficult to see in such terrible weather, but Malg had been through worse. He squinted his eyes and continued forward.

"We are nearly there," Wiggles-Her-Fingers said, her teeth chattering in the cold. "It should be very close now."

Malg could already see the shapes of structures appearing out of the snow. The buildings promised warmth and respite from the bitter cold as the temperature had already begun to drop with the setting sun. They passed a guard who politely pointed them to the Windpeak Inn, and the two quickly ducked inside. When Malg opened the door, the warmth hit him like a wall. His skin tingled all over as it enveloped him like a hug, and he heard Wiggles-Her-Finger sigh in delight. They ignored the tables and moved directly toward the stone firepit in the center of the room where they stripped off their wet boots and put them up on the edge to dry. After he had turned several times to offer every side of his body to the warmth of the flames, Malg looked around for space at one of the tables. Wiggles-Her-Fingers, however, seemed content to stay by the flames, eyes closed, with a satisfied smile on her face.

"What will you have, stranger?" asked a red-headed Nord. "Dinner, a drink, or a song?"

"Food would be nice," Malg replied. "And a place to stay for the night."

"For you and your friend?" she asked with a sly smile.

Malg's face instantly flushed. He had not asked Wiggles-Her-Fingers about the arrangements at all, and he was now mortified at the server's insinuation. He tried to speak, but only managed a few words that tumbled out in an awkward stutter.

"One room will be fine," Wiggles-Her-Fingers said, handing her a few coins and sitting down next to Malg. "We will need two plates, though, and a couple mugs of mead."

"Wonderful," the server replied. "I'll be right back with your food. My name is Karita. Let me know if you need anything else or if you have a song request."

"I wouldn't mind hearing your lute," Wiggles-Her-Fingers said.

Karita smiled, nodded, and went over to the bar to get their order. Soon they had hot food in front of them and the beautiful melody of Karita's lute filled the inn. Malg quickly shoveled down the first half of his meal but slowed once the keen edge of hunger had been satiated. Wiggles-Her-Fingers took her time, switching between her food and drink, and watched as the fire seemed to dance to the lute's tune.

"She is very good," Wiggles-Her-Fingers commented.

Malg nodded. Now that his stomach was full, drowsiness was creeping up on him. The journey had taken more out of him than he had realized, but it did not matter. He relaxed and let the music flow over him until he could no longer keep his eyes open.

Malg awoke the next morning in a bed with no recollection of how he ended up there. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and as he moved his legs toward the edge of the bed, he felt the hard, cool sensation of scales against his skin. The shock sent him tumbling off the small frame and onto the floor. A tail poked out from under the thick sheets and furs covering the bed, but it was quickly drawn back under like a snake escaping back into its den. At that moment, Malg realized he was wearing nothing but his undergarment. He quickly scanned the room, found his robes sitting nicely folded on a wooden chest, and nearly fell over himself trying to get dressed.

"You take up a lot of the bed," Wiggles-Her-Fingers groaned sleepily. "I almost had to leave you on the floor."

Malg's face was flushed as he tried to piece together what had happened the night before. "What happened?" he asked. "Did we...?"