Actually, if you remember the Encyclopedia of Deadly Creatures correctly, this is a lady imp and that bulge is an udder.
You’re not gonna kick an udder. That would just be weird.
Oh SHIT. Downstairs, now! Grab water, call the guards, anything to suppress the fire. And remember you pre-emptively paid “insurance” in the form of 10 septims just in case you broke everything, so still demand payment. |
It, ah, looks like all the fires went out when the imp died. At least, all the fires started by the imp’s magic.
There are a couple dying embers of your own fire lying about, but nothing big enough to be a hazard. All of your spells either hit the imp or went out the window.
And you’re preeeeetty sure this window isn’t facing toward the super-flammable orphanage. You’re just gonna kinda hope you’re right about that.
You’re… honestly not sure how you’re supposed to feel right now.
In all the stories you’ve read, this is the part where the love interest is supposed to burst through the door and sweep the main character off his feet with desperate statements about how she’s glad he’s okay. Then, the scene cuts to something else and it’s left pretty vague exactly who is expected to mop up all the blood, or at what point the main characters are supposed to shrug off the huge battle and be like, “okay, back to what we were doing before”. You don’t really have much reference for how this whole post-battle part is supposed to be hitting you.
As for how you actually feel…
Well, you did it.
Maybe it was just a fluke, or the beefy imp’s dumb fault for relying on magic without realizing you could absorb it, but for at least 100 seconds there you were a telekinetic, spell-slinging, wisecracking badass. You were like someone you’d look up to, instead who you actually are. This is like the biggest achievement of your life, and if you can keep this level of badassery up through the rest of tonight, things are only going to get even better. You feel good about this, and you deserve to celebrate. If you searched through those two unbroken crates, maybe you could find something to drrrrrr-
-rrroooooookay, that answers your question about when it’s time to forget about the fight and move on. You’ve gotta collect that bounty, hope that agreed-upon “ten septims worth of damages” isn’t negotiable, and finally go get your stuff back from Sigrid.
Yeah. Now that might be one place you need to do a little renegotiation.
You can understand Rajirra running away – especially since, as strange as it feels to admit, she was less suited to a magical fight than you were. But even then, she fed you bad information, she didn’t even leave you with a weapon, and you did most of the work here. You think that deserves a little more than 30%. Like, at least 40%.
Oh. Right. There was also the whole “lock you in here to die” thing.
Forty-five percent. No lower.
Put your innate khajiiti thievery skills into use and make your way through that locked door. |
This door is barred from the other side.
Additional resource credits:
Cider – usual