Claudia Inn: An Erotic Skyrim Adventure

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Night looms, and Anya Montclaire yearns for a bed. Her journey to Falkreath was long and arduous, and she was still well away from it, unable to afford a carriage. No camp would be safe, either, not with brigands seemingly around every corner. No, she'd have to either walk through the night to Falkreath, or find a place to sleep before then. A ruin, perhaps. Or maybe... wait, light? Heartened by the sight, Anya quickens her pace despite her feets' protest. A sign at the side of the road, lit by a single torch. Claudia Inn, it read. A path led down into the woods. Shrugging, figuring whatever was down there couldn't be any more dangerous than a ruin, she set off down the dirt path.

Before she knew it, she came upon a quaint little building, old but well-maintained, with another sign hanging on it, reading Claudia Inn. An Imperial woman with auburn hair sat on the porch and waved, a young boy perhaps twelve years of age standing beside her, whittling something. "Come on in!" she called, "We've got rooms available, if that's what you're after. Food and drink, too. Not the best or fanciest, but we do well enough out here."

"Thank you, ma'am," Anya says, passing the two.

"Iovia," the woman says. "Iovia Calidia, and this is my son, Arvus. I'm the owner." Arvus smiles at Anya, offering a handshake that she returns in kind.

"Thank you, Iovia, Arvus," Anya replies. "Lucky this place happened to be here. I thought for sure I'd get caught in the pitch black!"

"Lucky indeed..." Arvus says. Anya quirks an eyebrow. The way the boy spoke was curious.

More tired than inquisitive, Anya let is go and entered the inn. Two other women, a curvaceous Nord woman with fiery red hair and a slimmer but attractive-figured Dunmer in a tight blue robe, sitting opposite each other at one of the two tables in the room. A third person, a shirtless Nord man with hair like the Nord woman's but with a slim and powerfully corded body, stood over the counter, wiping it down. At once, all three of the occupants turned and looked at Anya. "Fjald!" the Nord woman said in a teasing tone, "It's Fredas, dear brother! You know what that means!"

The Nord man sighed. "I know, Frejta. I remember the bet."

"Good!" Frejta shot back as Anya walks by their table. "Told you, Voldyne!" she said, gesturing at the dark elf, "Told you it'd be a Fredas!" Anya gives the women an acknowledging nod, then stops at the counter.

"I'd like a room, please," she says, plopping down ten septims, nearly all the gold she had to her name. Fjald pushes them back. "Um..." Anya starts.

"First night's on the house, ma'am," Fjald says with a smile.

Confused, but ultimately more relieved than anything, Anya lets out a sigh. "I really appreciate it!" she says, practically bouncing in place, a blonde lock of hair straying into her vision.

He points to a room at the far end of the building. "That one's yours. First night's free, like I said. Hope you find it to your liking."

Anya wastes no time, thanking Fjald one last time as she bounds across the floor to her room. It's nothing extravagant, but it was better than she honestly expected. A chest, a dresser, a weapon rack, bedpan and wash bowl. Before long, her excess gear was stashed for the night, her leather armor shed in favor of a tight cloth nightshirt that hugged her impressive shape and a pair of slacks that favored her ass but did little to flatter her legs.


Going to sleep sounded like a great idea. But another part of her wanted to go get to know the others.

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