Tavir looked down. His ragged boots had been replaced. He now wore Sabre Cat Pumps : nine-inch heels with actual sabre cat teeth as the heel tips, purring softly with each step.
The mannequin laughed, a sound like soul gems clinking. “Patch notes, darling. Always read the patch notes.” Skyrim - TESV Nude Patch V0.2.7
Inside, the air smelled of tundra cotton and distilled moon sugar. Floating mannequins pirouetted in slow circles, each wearing outfits that should have crashed the game. The Violet Nightshade Ensemble : Forsworn leather stitched into a ballroom gown, the cleavage lined with bleeding nightshade blooms that never wilted. The Dragonscale Frock : smithed from Alduin’s own discarded scales (the description claimed), tailored to flare like a war skirt over steel-toed heeled boots. Tavir looked down
Tavir had come in his standard stealth archer gear—ancient shrouded cowl, ragged dark brotherhood tunic, boots that had seen every draugr crypt from here to High Hrothgar. He felt underdressed. The mannequin laughed, a sound like soul gems clinking
“There’s a quest?” Tavir’s hand drifted toward his bound bow.
Behind him, the door to the Ragged Flagon sealed shut. Ahead, a row of mannequins began to clap—slow, rhythmic, porcelain on porcelain. The gallery’s chandelier (a reconstructed Alduin’s skull, each tooth replaced with a glowing magelight) flickered once, twice, then settled into a soft, flattering pink.