You’re sitting alone in your room at a lovely tavern in Riften, it's the middle of the night, a faint orange-yellow light pulses through your room’s door as the fire of the dining hall’s hearth ebbs and flows. Outside people chatter and talk among themselves, laughing and carousing the night away at the local inn. Your food has finally been brought to your room, and you are just about to begin eating when you hear footsteps approaching your door. the door swings open with a creak, in the doorway stands a morbidly obese, ten foot tall argonian male clad in sweat-and-grease-stained leather gear. His face is glistening with a sheen of sweat, his breath comes in heavy, steamy huffs, you’re about to question what in oblivion this Horker of an argonian is doing in your room when he suddenly slams the door behind him, walking towards you and your table of food, smacking his lips hungrily. you can swear that bulbous, quivering gut produces a hand-print from its blubbery depths as he barges in past you, her scales stretch around the exploratory press, leaving you wondering just how unfortunate you are that this fatass has broken into YOUR room in particular, out of all the ones in skyrim.