This was fabulous, Kirwond. You really have a way with pacing and making sinking into the scene you've painted effortless.
That said, there was one thing:
He started to weep silently. Everyone picked on poor Cor. It was a rough old world.
I know you were reflecting the 'tears in my beer' mopey phase of drunkenness, but "Everyone picked on poor Cor..." is too 'Aw, shucks' for me.
I dunno. I dunno. It's valid for Cor to have a pity party for one over bad ale. Still, those two lines leapt out at me. Somehow I expected even Cor's drunken pity parties to be bitter and angry. Something like, "Everyone was against him. The world favored fools and reprobates while he - Cor raised a fist, grinding away the tears lining his jaundiced face with a rough pass of his knuckles - he suffered hard chairs, cold floors, empty coffers..."
Other than those two little lines, I was fascinated as I read this. It was an irreverant hiccup, then I was back in the squalor and dread, feeling the tone again. You really did an excellent job, Kirwond. I feel guilty for bringing up the one thing that niggled me because the overall quality and skill with this piece is remarkable. You make fanfic that's enjoyable even when the stories are about drunks killing people. That's no mean feat, so...Yay, Kirwond!!!