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Based off a story written by one of THE BESTIES!! They've written a lot of stuff about my Khajiit Ardene for a while now and their latest work was SPECTACULAR~

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"That forge needs to be hotter cat! We're forging blades for storm cloaks. Not cooking moonsugar on a campfire." The smith barked pointing his meaty hand to shovel stuck in a pile of charcoal.

"Y-yes of course!" Ardene stammered and set down the buckets of water she was carrying.

The smith only grunted in annoyance as she grabbed hastily at the handle before scooping piles of charcoal into the forge. He checked a few pieces before deciding on one that looked malleable enough. Moments after placing the red hot glowing slab on his anvil he struck it full force. Sparks showered over his dirty calloused skin not troubling him in the slightest. Strike after strike he bent the metal to his will. His skill with steel was obvious. Like so many before it this blade was shaped perfectly even in its most rough state. Satisfied he nodded to his work and dropped it into a nearby water barrel. The water bubbled violently as the metal sunk inside.

"Enough fuel! The bellows! Stoke the flames!" He shouted yet again as he withdrew another molten slab of metal.

"This order of blades is on my honor! Should my steel break rather then bend then Talos close the gates of Sovngarde when I arrive!" Again he hammered the metal shaping the blade with powerful and precise strikes.

Ardene was growing more accustomed to the Nords of Skyrim. They were strong of both body and will. Often religious to the point of outright zelotry. Especially If they allied themselves with Ulfric Stormcloak and his rebellion. Something her current employer was very open about. While she wasn't thrilled to work with such a man he was paying a rather exorbitant amount for just a days work. His apprentice walked out midway through a job and he needed hands. So much so that he accepted Ardene's all be it a bit begrudgingly.

It had been non stop all day. Carrying, lifting, shoveling, working the bellows. She tolerated all of the orders, scolding remarks, and hazards. The payout was too good to be let any of this bother her. Twenty five gold pieces. Nearly double what she was paid when she worked in a mine. Enough to get some more supplies for a journey elsewhere and at just one days work it was unbeatable.

But they didn't stop...not once. The day begain before the sun rose and they stopped after it had gone down hours ago. Ardene had never worked so much in her life. Her arms and legs shook from over exertion. Her fur was matted with sweat and covered in soot. Her stomach.....god's her stomach ached. It was empty when the day started and it did little to help her in her endeavor to eventually fill it. All day it growled, twitched and panged. There was no hiding it after a few hours of labor her body shamelessly vocalized it's need. But it was even more obvious when she stripped off her tunic due to the heat. Her typically flat midsection was concave. Fur did little to hide the obvious growling void she had no choice but display. It only grew more intense the harder she worked. The forge she fueled stayed full but her own internal forge that burned just as intensly recieved nothing but water. Even downing an entire water skin with so much liquid she visibly bloated did nothing to alleviate its incessant growling. It simply changed the low wails to harsh gurgles that still had just as much volume and bite as before. She was past the point of muffling the sounds or sensations. At least her employer didn't seem to mind...or care. At most he gave a curious glance and frankly a rather shamless ogle as she stripped down. But other then that it was a non issue. For him anyway for Ardene it was a constant reminder of just how badly see needed to get paid today....that was all the motivation she had.

Later that evening Ardene found herself back at the Tavern she had rented a room at. She could feel eyes on her as she walked in large pack over her shoulder. She had more then enough supplies to move on in the morning. But it had cost a good amount of today's earnings. The alluring smells of the various foods being served teased her. She felt her stomach shifting under her skin as the hollow organ craved sustenance. Dragging herself up the stairs she unlocked her room dropped her pack inside. She stared at the bed debating simply falling into it. But the clenching in her gut was a bitter reminder she still hadnt eaten today. One hand gripping it the other fondling her nearly depleted coin purse she turned to venture back down to the tavern.

She was so empty she expected to feel light on her feet but as she made her way downstairs sore muscles made her feel heavy as stone. She was nearly dilerious as she flopped down at the first open barstool. Struggling to even keep her head up she locked eyes with the bartender who just gave her a nod of minimal acknowledgement. Digging out the last of her coins she let all three of them clack on the bar. Sliding them forward she muttered "food....please... anything..." The bartender raised an eyebrow before scoffing and gathering up the meager pile. It was much less then what she typically paid for meals. Many Nords had a habit of changing prices for any foreigners. But none if this mattered to her right now. Just something so she could sleep not compleatly empty was all she needed. If she broke into her traveling rations before she even left then her journey would be even more needlessly perilous.

The chatter and laughter of the nords around her was muffled to the point of silence. She couldn't perceive anything but the aching of her body. She so desperately wanted to let her head lay on the bar. To pathetically push whatever god awful scraps she was about to be served into her mouth without so much as lifting her head. But her stubborn pride alone kept her aloft. After serving dozens of other patrons the bartender returned with a bowl and a loaf of bread....well part of a loaf. Without so much as a here you go it was slammed in front of her and she was immediately forgotten. An experimental tap of the bread revealed it was hard as a rock. No doubt a few days old at least. The bowl looked to be the remains of stew. It lacked any solid pieces save for a few slivers of vegetables cut so small it's was a surprise they didn't just outright dissolve during cooking. With a forlorn look Ardene placed the bread in the soup. No point trying to bite it until it had throughly soaked up the broth. She stared at her dinner but in her daze it was more like looking past it. Anything was better then this. The rations she bought for traveling were better then this....

The painful twisting in her gut reminded her to eat. Ordinarily she wasn't a stranger to digging right it. Her hunger often had to do little encouraging for her. But her eyes were heavy, her body was stiff. So much so that not even in incessant gnawking in her stomach could drive her. Dragging the bowl closer she fished the bread out and bit into it. A chunk tore off where it had soaked through and not an inch further. The taste was...dull....muted. Any spices or flavor in the broth were overpowered by the odd chewyness that the bread stubbornly held on to despite looking throughly soggy. Her stomach clenched as she swallowed . It did little to satisfy her. If anything it felt just as difficult to digest as it did to chew. It only made the grumbling in her stomach even more audible. No doubt the Nords that had no choice but to sit near her would hear it.

Tasting the broth on its own conformed Ardene's suspicions that it was watered down. No doubt just a ladle or two of the top of a stew then cut with water. She could already feel the dissatisfaction in her core as she continued to eat. Not just in her underfed stomach, or her overworked body but in her very soul. A long day of hard work...and all she had to show for it was enough supplies for a few days of traveling and a "meal" of kitchen scraps.

Sulking she mustered her strength and pulled herself up. The slow walk back to her room was painful. Her feet throbbed with each step of the stairs and she leaned on the railing with all her weight. As she exited a commotion started downstairs.

"You will do exactly as I say or so help me Talos I will pull you over this bar and strike your head till it is as flat as a blade!" One voice bellowed over the crowd. Ardene didnt pay it any mind as she dragged herself upstairs. She was used to all the commotion in the taverns in this land. Every day and every night was songs, yelling, and fighting. She learned to block most of it out and not get involved.

The frightened barkeep stammered but couldn't form any words. His shirt was in the firm grip of a very angry blacksmith. His grip was so strong and he yanked with such force that the shirt was nearly torn compleatly off. "And if you so much as serve one more drink without doing what I demand I'll pummel your face so black and blue you'll be mistaken for a Dunmer and tossed onto the grey quarter!" He roared before finally letting go of the man.

Upstairs Ardene lay in her bed in listless half slumber. Despite her exhaustion the relentless ache throughout her body left her too uncomfortable to sleep fully. A harsh pounding at her door jolted her fully awake. What now? If she was about to get thrown out of another inn under the premise she "had fleas." Why tonight of all nights? Dragging herself out of bed she stumbled to the door and cracked it open. Peeking out she didn't see anyone. Opening it fully she looked around before glancing down and seeing...a platter?

Yes a tray of food a substantial one at that. Was this...a mistake? A cruel joke? Illusion Magic? Before she could question her first bit of good fortune further she scooped it up and hastily shut the door. Examining her prize closer her mouth watered and her stomach started up another bout of growling it's previous "meal" long forgotten. It was a full spread. Half a roasted chicken, grilled leeks, roasted potatoes, a full bowl of actual stew with big chunks of meat, potatoes and carrots. Still more food was piled on. A fresh loaf of bread, a roasted apple, a slice of seared slaughterfish, and a slice of berry pie so hefty it might as well have been three pieces. All of this accompanied by not one but two bottles of wine.

Left off the side was a note rolled up and bound with thin string. Attached was a small metal symbol of Talos. Tiny in comparison to the large necklaces the Nords wore. This small charm was more often seen dangling from bracelets, beards or weapons. She unraveled the note and read it. Written in a scratchy but all to recently familiar hand it said.

Hard work should not go unrewarded and victories should not go uncelebrated. Safe travels and may Talos guide and protect you.

Tears formed in the corner of Ardene's eyes. She massaged her stomach with her free hand in preparation for the largest meal she'd seen in months. The powerful grumbles quaking under her palm told her she was more then ready. With new found appreciation for the man she worked for today she ate...and ate and ate. It was all so delicious, so hearty. She experienced flavors that she'd missed for so long. Savory, buttery, salty and sweet. She couldn't help but moan as she ate. It was just so satisfying. The hollow ache in her stomach quickly went away and was replaced with audible groans of busy digestion. Bite after bite she felt her stomach swell and right beside it her heart did too. Vigor and optimism returned to her spirit and she smiled.

Quite visibly bloated and with heavier eyes then before she fell into bed. The churning of her overfilled insides was a welcome pain. The alcohol in the wine dulled the ache in her body just enough. Yawning and rubbing her stomach she let the sounds of digestion lul her to sleep.....