Somewhere far away the sounds of people could be heard in celebration and joy. It sounded like one of the grandest parties that Savor had ever experienced, like opening night under the Grand Imperial Circus. The ground slowed its spinning and became more solid and stable beneath the prone Dunmer he wondered why the inn smelled so wet and dank. Did he end up in the cellar? A few moments longer and his senses came back into focus and the cheering was all but gone, it was now more of a mixture of anger and fear echoing around him.

Still experiencing residual intoxication, Savor slowly rolled over onto his back and noted that the Inn’s cellar looked miserable, it even had prison cell bars… wait. The braincells floating in far too much Sujamma took a while to make the connection but eventually they reached the conclusion. Savor wasn’t in the cellar, he was simply in a cell.

[Color=864938]“I couldn’t have been that bad.”[/color]

He looked at his fists and noted some bruising and fine cuts, yeah he had been bad. He slowly rose up to a seated position and noted everyone around him, and there were a lot of them, he didn’t even notice the Orc bolted to the wall as everyone seemed to be a blur. Savor furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes with difficulty on a particular Breton male that seemed to be holding a cloth that seemed to shimmer, or… something, and his floating braincells made another brilliant connection.

[Color=864938]“Oh no! Gods save me I’m sorry if I punched you.”[/color]