He climbed the stairs and entered his room, the image of the innkeeper still fresh in his mind telling him to vacate the room or pay for the previous day and this one, albeit said in less nicer words. He had also requested a bath to be drawn for him...the innkeeper gave him a look that said "you must be joking" before leaving the drunk. 

Oh well, if they wouldn't draw a bath for him, he would invade another patrons' room to enjoy it. He hazily remembers the occupants next door to have requested such services.
*kick*
*boom*
It made a heavy sound as the door flew open, splinters of wood flying in all directions. A few seconds of pause insued derived from the shock of what had just happened. He was standing before 2 naked girls who wasted no more time to start screaming as they covered themselves, one even grabbing a knife.

"Ladies please, I mean no ha..*burp*..rm, I just need a bath."- he said in his drunken derilium as he kept walking towards them while talkin. Unshaven, dirty looking old man with stained clothes and a not so friendly attitude walking towards 2 naked girls....someone might, nay, will get the wrong impression if they happen about this scene.

But luckily a sudden tremor followed by a roar diffused the situation. Now he wasn't the biggest problem in the room. That roar, a roar he knew too well. Anger overtook him, the rush of adrenaline momentarily making him sober. He breifly entered his room to pick up his fighting sword, a sword which in the past weeks ,before this month, had slain more dragons than humans in the past year, and hurrying downstairs to put an end to it, his sworn enemy.

In his anger all he could see were memories of that dragon back then and although the size difference with the one before him was substantial to say the very least, alcohol still clouded his judgment although his motor skills were almost up to par with his normal form.

"DRAGON!!"-he spewed that word with such hate, leaving the impression that it was one of the highest forms of verbal offence the man could muster.

He had no real hate for the dragons as a race. It was even suspected that the dragon summoned during that battle wasn't even alive, just a big carcass from ages long forgotten. Even if he, in the past weeks before this month, had constantly and, funnily enough, religiously hunted dragons, finding a way to apply their weaknesses to the abomination that he faced that day, even then he held no hate for them. It was simply another job. But That dragon was something else entirely. Even the slightest memory of it made his soul tremble and during all his drunken crusade to drown it from his mind, the slightest trigger could set him off. The harder you try to consciously keep something out of your mind, the easier it is for it to suddenly burst through and flood it entirely.

Even if he realized that this dragon wasn't his Enemy, he was still another dragon endangering humans. And with that in mind, he charged forward with intent to cut the offending dragon up.