Imagine for a moment that an average 23 year old Torontonian was sucked into The Elder Scrolls...
Season Unending - A Skyrim Self-Insert Quest
- Thread starter Riddle78
- Start date
- Created
- Status
- Ongoing
- Watchers
- 129
- Recent readers
- 0
- Threadmarks
- 10
-
Statistics (9 threadmarks, 21k words)
User Total Riddle78 9 -
Loading…
00 - Prologue
Riddle78
Reality nibbler.
- Location
- CFB Middle of Nowhere on the Trans-Can
Imagine for a moment that an average 23 year old Torontonian was sucked into The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. Now,imagine that the Skyrim that they were pulled into was their own installation,with several mods installed. Now,imagine that said Torontonian was me. I saw self-insert fics (Speaking of; Go read Faith in Superior Firepower,if you're not already.),crossover fics and quests... But never a self-insert quest. Though,that could be my lack of exposure on the subject.
Whatever.
In order to save time for now,I'll explain the mechanics in detail as they become relevant. However,know that this Quest will,mechanically,behave very differently from vanilla Skyrim,or even modded Skyrim. As a rule,assume that things will tend towards the realistic. It's simply easier to manage that way. There will be no dice; If you want to succeed,be savvy. Even if you choose to make the protagonist (that is,me) a doorkicker,you can still be a fucking genius about it. So,that said,here's our mod list,as presented by Nexus Mod Manager.
Read the above; It's important. I'll be sharing important information as it comes up,but I'm bound to miss things; Do some research on these mods,or ask me about them if you have a question; They'll impact how the Quest plays out.
Now,what follows is a list of built-in bias on the player character,which is myself.
Biases and Quirks of the Player character
-Pro-Imperial: The Empire is already weakened; If Skyrim wins the civil war and becomes independent,the Aldmeri Dominion will be able to simply erase both Skyrim and the Mede Empire in one go,and then proceed to erase the Races of Man from history,as is their strategic objective. However,with proper reasoning and circumstance,it is possible to make the player character join the Stormcloaks... However reluctantly.
-Bullheaded: When I decide to do something,I very,very rarely change my mind.
-Possesses knowledge: As a player of the game since launch,I know many of the game's secrets. As the player character is me,we have a little extra leeway with available information in the Quest.
-Leather is not armour: Do not even attempt to get the player character to wear leather,hide,or studded "armour"; They won't stop anything.
-Debater: It's very easy to get me into a debate. The same will be true of the player character.
-Fuck depth perception: My depth perception... Sucks. I find it difficult to accurately gauge distances. This will reflect on the player character.
-Audiophile: I take a particular joy in good sound design,or a particularly good voice. Everybody,give a hand to Michael Hogan,voice of General Tullius.
All of that relayed,let us begin.
Hitting the shutdown,you set down your headphones,turn around,and crawl into bed,a mere four feet behind your office chair. Sleep is almost immediate,which is a refreshing change.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You come to,hours later,to an alien sound. The sound of horses,creaking wood,and wagon wheels against rough cobblestone. You can tell all of this,even with your eyes closed. The sound is alien,because you've never experienced it all firsthand. But,at the same time,the sound is very much familiar. ...Please be a dream. Your eyes are still closed,feigning unconsciousness,and you rally your other senses. You're slumped in your seat,and you feel rather cold; There's a stiff breeze,and it's both dry and cold,on top of the presumably cold climate. Your wrists are bound together by leather straps,and they're pretty fucking tight,because your thumbs are right now filled with those pins and needles that you don't like.
Fucking Hell,this is Skyrim's introduction sequence.
This had better be a fucking dream.
It's not.
With a yawn,you stir,and lift your head,while straightening your back and squaring your shoulders. Yup,no doubt about it; You're in Skyrim; Sitting opposite you is Ralof,relative to the millers in Riverwood,as well as an officer in Ulfric's rebellion. Speaking of,the Stormcloak himself was seated to your right,bound and gagged,dressed in Stormlord Armour,though the scabbard that held his dagger was empty,and the loop at his belt was similarly empty,divorced of his axe. And then,opposite Ulfric,was Lokir,the horse thief that somehow made his way onto the Empire's execution list,dressed in rags identical to your own. Behind you,you can see Hadvar,taking up the rear of the convoy on his horse,dressed in Heroic Imperial armour,minus the helm.
"Hey,you. You're finally awake."
Ralof noticed that you woke up,and decided to make conversation. Ralof was wearing different armour from Stormcloak standard issue.
"You were trying to cross the border,right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush. Same as us,and that thief over there."
Ralof jerked his head to Lokir in gesture,prompting the scrawny Nord to launch into a brief,yet scathing rant.
"Damn you Stormcloaks! Skyrim was fine until you came along; Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you,I could've stolen that horse,and be halfway to Hammerfell."
Lokir scowled at Ralof,then turned to you,with an attempt at a friendly smile,
"You there,you and me. We shouldn't be here; It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."
Ralof scoffed,and replied,
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds,now,thief."
"Shut up back there!"
The Imperial soldier driving their wagon shouted over his shoulder; Obviously,he wasn't the patient type. You simply roll your eyes,and lean back in your seat during the brief silence the soldier's interruption provided. However,the soldier's command was disregarded by Lokir within seconds,as he went on to inquire about Ulfric,
"And what's wrong with him,huh?"
How do those footwraps taste,Lokir?
"Watch your tongue!"
Ralof turned and snapped at Lokir; If his wrists weren't bound,you were certain that Ralof would've had the tiny man facedown on the floor of the wagon in an armbar.
"You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak,the true High King!"
Ralof's anger,while impotent,did serve its purpose; Putting the fear of death into Lokir,but not for the reasons he intended.
"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion! But,if they've captured you... Oh gods! Where are they taking us!?"
And the penny drops. You must've put on a face,because Lokir shot you a venomous look after he looked at your face. However,Ralof saved you from a tongue lashing when he answered the thief's question,
"I don't know where we're going... But Sovngarde awaits."
You lift your head forward,and take in Ralof's body language; He's slumped forward,resting his weight on his elbows,which themselves rested upon his knees,and his face was one of resignation and sadness; He knows what's coming up,and he's made peace with it. Leaning your head back again,you take in the passing landscape as the wagon rolls back; Snow,rocks,and pine trees. Just like Petawawa. You crack a smirk,both at how much Skyrim resembles your hometown,and at the knowledge that Ralof wasn't going to die on the headsman's block.
And then Lokir fucks it all up with the beginnings of his panic. Grow a pair,man; You can't do shit about it.
"No! This can't be happening! This isn't happening!"
My sentiments exactly. One helluva vivid dream,though.
"Hey. What village are you from,horse thief?"
Ralof cooled down in a hurry,considering that the man he was addressing was more-or-less guilty of defamation of the crown,in Ralof's eyes. Lokir answered the question with one of his own; The man was guarded.
"Why do you care?"
Ralof shrugged,and replied,as if he were lecturing a child; In all practicality,he was,really.
"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."
After a second,Lokir replied; The man sounded as if he were on the verge of tears.
"Rorikstead. I'm... I'm from Rorikstead."
Absently,you replied to the question,as well,though not out loud.
Toronto.
The wagons trundled along for several more minutes,before a commotion ahead of the caravan; Soldiers were conversing with the general. Last stop,Helgen. Imperials,executioners,and Alduin.
"General Tullius,sir! The headsman is waiting!"
You could practically hear Lokir's neck strain as his head whipped to look at the front of the caravan. You turned your head in that direction as well,and indeed,the caravan was approaching Helgen's Eastern gate.
"Good! Let's get this over with!"
That voice. That damn voice. It fits. Micheal Hogan does an excellent beleaguered authority figure. You might be aromantic,but damn that's a fine voice.
Sometimes,it's awkward being an audiophile.
And that's when Lokir started to metaphorically piss his britches.
"Shor,Mara,Dibella,Kynareth,Akatosh! Divines! Please,help me!"
All you could do was roll your eyes. Sure,death's scary... But it's out of his hands. Why worry?
The gates swung open to the chorus of groaning wood and screeching iron hinges. As the caravan made its way into the town,you lift your head from your previous leaned back posture,and begin to take in the surroundings; You know what's up next. It's best to know what goes where ahead of time. While you were doing this,you noted that Tullius broke away from the caravan,and was discussing something with an Altmer on horseback,flanked by a pair of armoured Altmer footsloggers; Without a doubt in your mind,you peg her as Elenwen. And,judging by her body language,she was pissed. Opposite her,although you only saw his back,Tullius appeared to be wholly unphased.
Unflappable bastard.
Ralof caught your gaze,and looked over his shoulder. You could see the man's scowl; It looked as if he were forced to eat a litre of botulated yogurt.
"Look at him."
His voice dripped with venom and malice.
"General Tullius,the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this!"
Ralof silently fumed as the wagon rolled through town,though after a few seconds,Ralof spoke up again,changing the topic.
"This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if Vilod still makes her mead with juniper berries mixed in?"
Ralof scoffed,and continued his train of thought.
"Funny. When I was a boy,Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."
Well,that is the point of fortifications... You kept your snark to yourself; It wouldn't do to alienate him. Not yet,at least.
"Who are they,daddy? Where are they going?"
A voice from behind you got your attention. Leaning your head back,you saw a young boy and his father on their home's front porch. Haming,if I recall correctly.
"You need to go inside,little cub."
"Why? I wanna watch the soldiers!"
"Inside the house! Now!"
"Yes,papa..."
The father sent his son into the house,to spare his young eyes the horrors of a public execution. That won't help. Alduin will make sure of it.
A minute later,the wagons approached a wall,and you could make out that one overzealous Imperial Captain issuing orders...
"Get these prisoners out of the carts! MOVE IT!"
The woman's harsh yelling broke Lokir out of his stupor,prompting him to ask what is most likely the stupidest question ever uttered in Skyrim,
"Why are we stopping?"
You could just hear Ralof's laughter in his response,and you could swear he worded it just to stir the pot,
"Why do you think? End of the line."
When the cart came to a halt,you began to stand up,even before Ralof prompted you to.
"Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."
As everyone piled out of the wagon,Lokir began his impotent protests,
"No,wait! We're not rebels."
This time,you replied,in perfect stereo with Ralof,
"Face your death with some courage,thief."
Ralof threw a smirk at you,but Lokir continued his pleas,
"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!"
Your rolled your eyes as the obnoxious Imperial Captain started to bark out orders,
"Step towards the block when we call your name! One at a time!"
You can hear Ralof mutter under his breath beside you,
"Empire loves their damn lists..."
And so began the reading of the list; Each wagon had an Imperial soldier reading a list from a ledger,and with each name called,a Stormcloak marched away from the carts to the headsman's block,without hesitation. When Hadvar opened his mouth,your attention returned to him.
"Ulfric Stormcloak,Jarl of Windhelm."
As Ulfric marched to his supposed death,back straight and head high,Ralof called after him,
"It has been an honour,Jarl Ulfric!"
Fucking groupie.
"Ralof of Riverwood!"
Ralof nodded,turned on his heel,and marched off to the headsman's block after his Jarl. You note that very few people are left at the carts; Say what you will about the Empire,they're efficient when they want to be.
"Lokir or Rorikstead!"
Oh,this'll be fun to watch.
Lokir stepped forward to make his case,while you looked on with a look of sadistic glee; It was almost as if the man was written to be detested.
"No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!"
And with that,Lokir ran.
"HALT!"
The garrison's archers all simultaneously unslung their bows,and brought an arrow from their quivers to their bowstrings,just waiting for the order.
"You're not going to kill me!"
Lokir was taking the wide turn,now,in front of Haming's house.
"ARCHERS!"
The sound of straining bowstrings and bow limbs filled the air,followed almost instantly by a trio of near-simultaneous snaps as the strings crashed against their bows. The arrows were fired with deadly precision. They smashed through both of Lokir's knees. The prisoner shrieked. He tumbled to the ground in agony.
And was silenced. An arrow from above slammed into his skull. The point jutted from his mouth,open in a silent scream.
Lokir's corpse hit the ground with a tumble,and lay there,motionless,as blood began to rapidly pool from his knees and mouth.
The Imperial Captain turned to face the rest of the prisoners,wearing a confident,shit-eating smirk.
"Anyone else feel like running?"
Nope. You looked at Lokir's corpse down the road; Obviously,this dream isn't using Skyrim logic. It's running on reality's rules.
An improvement,really.
"Wait."
Here we go. Character creation time.
"You there. Step forward."
As he said this,Hadvar pointed at you with his quill,and you obliged,stepping forward.
"Who... Are you?"
Now,you had a choice; Do you give him you real,and very out-of-place,name? Or do you make up a name? You're an average Caucasian male,so you could easily pass as an Imperial,or a Breton. Maybe a suiting name would draw less suspicion? Who knows what the locals would do to you,if you make yourself stick out by giving the Imperials your real name. Then again,this is a dream,so there aren't any consequences...
Pick One
[] Real name; Steven Ridley.
[] Breton name.
-[] Write-in.
[] Imperial name.
-[] Write-in.
[] Dovah name; Numinex
Author's Note: Also,does anyone know how to do invisitext? I'll be needing it in the future. It'll be getting a LOT of mileage.
Whatever.
In order to save time for now,I'll explain the mechanics in detail as they become relevant. However,know that this Quest will,mechanically,behave very differently from vanilla Skyrim,or even modded Skyrim. As a rule,assume that things will tend towards the realistic. It's simply easier to manage that way. There will be no dice; If you want to succeed,be savvy. Even if you choose to make the protagonist (that is,me) a doorkicker,you can still be a fucking genius about it. So,that said,here's our mod list,as presented by Nexus Mod Manager.
-Skyrim.esm: Core game.
-Update.esm: I'm assuming this is the form that the official patches take.
-Dawnguard.esm: Vampires,eclipses,and Falmer,oh my!
-Dragonborn.esm: A return to Solstheim. And some awesome stuff besides.
-Hearthfire.esm: Build houses! Adopt children!
-Bandoleer.esp: Belts,pouches,and other such things to wear; Functional,and fashionable!
-Breezehome Fully Upgradeable.esp: More options for making Breezehome a base of operations; Ad both Dovahkiin and Thane of the most strategically important Hold in Skyrim,it only makes sense for you to be able to hire an outside contractor to improve the property.
-Capes and Cloaks of Skyrim.esp: Capes exist to mark a person's loyalties,while cloaks do wonders to keep the elements out,and can also be marked for displaying your allegiance.
-Winter is Coming: Cloaks of Skyrim.esp: Cloaks,made of animal pelts. Big and heavy,designed with Skyrim's harsh climate in mind.
-Civil War Overhaul.esp: Makes the Civil War questline more interesting; You can lose the war,for starters. Too many features to list here.
-Dragon Combat Overhaul.esp: Makes dragons truly threatening; I'll be using this as a framework. Don't be surprised if there's deviation. Oh,and daily dragon ambushes.
-Deadly Dragons.esp: More dragon variety,for starters. Also the root of what makes dragon souls more important,especially for this Quest.
-Immersive Armours.esp: More armour variety. Excellent for standing out from the crowd.
-Immersive Weapons.esp: More choice for all things sharp and shiny. Blunt,too... I guess...
-Improved Artifacts Collection.esp: This improves,usually completely changing,unique items across the board,so long as they're not Daedric artifacts. Includes Thane weapons,as well.
-Convenient Horses.esp: Makes horses a lot more useful. Saddle bags,primarily.
-More Interesting Loot.esp: Major loot caches,like boss chests,will contain more loot than usual,usually of greater value,and often of an exotic nature. Imagine finding the Amulet of Heartthrum in Embershard Mine...
-Run For Your Lives!.esp: Dragons attacking? Civilians run for cover.
-When Vampires Attack!.esp: Vampires making a night raid? Civilians flee.
-Unique Uniques.esp: Unique equipment looks the part.
-Perkus Maximus.esp: All modules. This includes a lot of new equipment types,and a completely restructured perk system. It will completely change things. trust me.
-Storm Wrath Lightning.esp: Specifically,Storm Call will only target hostile entities,and it will dynamically move with you,and dynamically retarget. In other words; It makes the shout useful.
-Undeath.esp: A quest to foil a necromancer attempting to become a lich. Along the way,you have a choice; Burn the evidence... Or become a lich yourself.
-Better Vampires.esp: Makes being a vampire an altogether more involved and enriching experience.
-Royal Bloodline.esp: Take your vampiric existence to the next level with an expansion to the Vampire Lord perk tree.
-Moonlight Tales.esp: Enriches your life as a werewolf with some interesting features.
The real important mods in that list are Perkus Maximus,Deadly Dragons,and Dragon Combat Overhaul. However,every mod is there for a reason.
-Update.esm: I'm assuming this is the form that the official patches take.
-Dawnguard.esm: Vampires,eclipses,and Falmer,oh my!
-Dragonborn.esm: A return to Solstheim. And some awesome stuff besides.
-Hearthfire.esm: Build houses! Adopt children!
-Bandoleer.esp: Belts,pouches,and other such things to wear; Functional,and fashionable!
-Breezehome Fully Upgradeable.esp: More options for making Breezehome a base of operations; Ad both Dovahkiin and Thane of the most strategically important Hold in Skyrim,it only makes sense for you to be able to hire an outside contractor to improve the property.
-Capes and Cloaks of Skyrim.esp: Capes exist to mark a person's loyalties,while cloaks do wonders to keep the elements out,and can also be marked for displaying your allegiance.
-Winter is Coming: Cloaks of Skyrim.esp: Cloaks,made of animal pelts. Big and heavy,designed with Skyrim's harsh climate in mind.
-Civil War Overhaul.esp: Makes the Civil War questline more interesting; You can lose the war,for starters. Too many features to list here.
-Dragon Combat Overhaul.esp: Makes dragons truly threatening; I'll be using this as a framework. Don't be surprised if there's deviation. Oh,and daily dragon ambushes.
-Deadly Dragons.esp: More dragon variety,for starters. Also the root of what makes dragon souls more important,especially for this Quest.
-Immersive Armours.esp: More armour variety. Excellent for standing out from the crowd.
-Immersive Weapons.esp: More choice for all things sharp and shiny. Blunt,too... I guess...
-Improved Artifacts Collection.esp: This improves,usually completely changing,unique items across the board,so long as they're not Daedric artifacts. Includes Thane weapons,as well.
-Convenient Horses.esp: Makes horses a lot more useful. Saddle bags,primarily.
-More Interesting Loot.esp: Major loot caches,like boss chests,will contain more loot than usual,usually of greater value,and often of an exotic nature. Imagine finding the Amulet of Heartthrum in Embershard Mine...
-Run For Your Lives!.esp: Dragons attacking? Civilians run for cover.
-When Vampires Attack!.esp: Vampires making a night raid? Civilians flee.
-Unique Uniques.esp: Unique equipment looks the part.
-Perkus Maximus.esp: All modules. This includes a lot of new equipment types,and a completely restructured perk system. It will completely change things. trust me.
-Storm Wrath Lightning.esp: Specifically,Storm Call will only target hostile entities,and it will dynamically move with you,and dynamically retarget. In other words; It makes the shout useful.
-Undeath.esp: A quest to foil a necromancer attempting to become a lich. Along the way,you have a choice; Burn the evidence... Or become a lich yourself.
-Better Vampires.esp: Makes being a vampire an altogether more involved and enriching experience.
-Royal Bloodline.esp: Take your vampiric existence to the next level with an expansion to the Vampire Lord perk tree.
-Moonlight Tales.esp: Enriches your life as a werewolf with some interesting features.
The real important mods in that list are Perkus Maximus,Deadly Dragons,and Dragon Combat Overhaul. However,every mod is there for a reason.
Now,what follows is a list of built-in bias on the player character,which is myself.
Biases and Quirks of the Player character
-Pro-Imperial: The Empire is already weakened; If Skyrim wins the civil war and becomes independent,the Aldmeri Dominion will be able to simply erase both Skyrim and the Mede Empire in one go,and then proceed to erase the Races of Man from history,as is their strategic objective. However,with proper reasoning and circumstance,it is possible to make the player character join the Stormcloaks... However reluctantly.
-Bullheaded: When I decide to do something,I very,very rarely change my mind.
-Possesses knowledge: As a player of the game since launch,I know many of the game's secrets. As the player character is me,we have a little extra leeway with available information in the Quest.
-Leather is not armour: Do not even attempt to get the player character to wear leather,hide,or studded "armour"; They won't stop anything.
-Debater: It's very easy to get me into a debate. The same will be true of the player character.
-Fuck depth perception: My depth perception... Sucks. I find it difficult to accurately gauge distances. This will reflect on the player character.
-Audiophile: I take a particular joy in good sound design,or a particularly good voice. Everybody,give a hand to Michael Hogan,voice of General Tullius.
All of that relayed,let us begin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 0 - Prologue
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 0 - Prologue
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Township of Etobicoke,City of Toronto,Ontario,Canada
Sunday,February 21st 2016
0230 hours
You groan as you stretch back in your swivel chair. Having reinstalled Skyrim for the umpteenth time,this time on your laptop,since your desktop's sorta... Fried. Surprisingly,this old thing can run Skyrim without a single hiccup,under most circumstances; As a rule,though,you avoid hardware-intensive mods like ENB,SMIM,or texture packs in general. Still,things are promising. Looking through your list of installed mods,you nod,satisfied with what you have,so far. The load order isn't complete,but it's getting there. Looking down at the taskbar,you groan as you note the time; Two-thirty in the morning. So much for getting a regular sleep schedule... Pulling up Chrome,you close your great many YouTube tabs,silencing your music,and say your goodbyes on the roleplaying site you frequent; It's small,but your friends are there.Sunday,February 21st 2016
0230 hours
Hitting the shutdown,you set down your headphones,turn around,and crawl into bed,a mere four feet behind your office chair. Sleep is almost immediate,which is a refreshing change.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You come to,hours later,to an alien sound. The sound of horses,creaking wood,and wagon wheels against rough cobblestone. You can tell all of this,even with your eyes closed. The sound is alien,because you've never experienced it all firsthand. But,at the same time,the sound is very much familiar. ...Please be a dream. Your eyes are still closed,feigning unconsciousness,and you rally your other senses. You're slumped in your seat,and you feel rather cold; There's a stiff breeze,and it's both dry and cold,on top of the presumably cold climate. Your wrists are bound together by leather straps,and they're pretty fucking tight,because your thumbs are right now filled with those pins and needles that you don't like.
Fucking Hell,this is Skyrim's introduction sequence.
This had better be a fucking dream.
It's not.
With a yawn,you stir,and lift your head,while straightening your back and squaring your shoulders. Yup,no doubt about it; You're in Skyrim; Sitting opposite you is Ralof,relative to the millers in Riverwood,as well as an officer in Ulfric's rebellion. Speaking of,the Stormcloak himself was seated to your right,bound and gagged,dressed in Stormlord Armour,though the scabbard that held his dagger was empty,and the loop at his belt was similarly empty,divorced of his axe. And then,opposite Ulfric,was Lokir,the horse thief that somehow made his way onto the Empire's execution list,dressed in rags identical to your own. Behind you,you can see Hadvar,taking up the rear of the convoy on his horse,dressed in Heroic Imperial armour,minus the helm.
"Hey,you. You're finally awake."
Ralof noticed that you woke up,and decided to make conversation. Ralof was wearing different armour from Stormcloak standard issue.
"You were trying to cross the border,right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush. Same as us,and that thief over there."
Ralof jerked his head to Lokir in gesture,prompting the scrawny Nord to launch into a brief,yet scathing rant.
"Damn you Stormcloaks! Skyrim was fine until you came along; Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you,I could've stolen that horse,and be halfway to Hammerfell."
Lokir scowled at Ralof,then turned to you,with an attempt at a friendly smile,
"You there,you and me. We shouldn't be here; It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."
Ralof scoffed,and replied,
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds,now,thief."
"Shut up back there!"
The Imperial soldier driving their wagon shouted over his shoulder; Obviously,he wasn't the patient type. You simply roll your eyes,and lean back in your seat during the brief silence the soldier's interruption provided. However,the soldier's command was disregarded by Lokir within seconds,as he went on to inquire about Ulfric,
"And what's wrong with him,huh?"
How do those footwraps taste,Lokir?
"Watch your tongue!"
Ralof turned and snapped at Lokir; If his wrists weren't bound,you were certain that Ralof would've had the tiny man facedown on the floor of the wagon in an armbar.
"You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak,the true High King!"
Ralof's anger,while impotent,did serve its purpose; Putting the fear of death into Lokir,but not for the reasons he intended.
"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion! But,if they've captured you... Oh gods! Where are they taking us!?"
And the penny drops. You must've put on a face,because Lokir shot you a venomous look after he looked at your face. However,Ralof saved you from a tongue lashing when he answered the thief's question,
"I don't know where we're going... But Sovngarde awaits."
You lift your head forward,and take in Ralof's body language; He's slumped forward,resting his weight on his elbows,which themselves rested upon his knees,and his face was one of resignation and sadness; He knows what's coming up,and he's made peace with it. Leaning your head back again,you take in the passing landscape as the wagon rolls back; Snow,rocks,and pine trees. Just like Petawawa. You crack a smirk,both at how much Skyrim resembles your hometown,and at the knowledge that Ralof wasn't going to die on the headsman's block.
And then Lokir fucks it all up with the beginnings of his panic. Grow a pair,man; You can't do shit about it.
"No! This can't be happening! This isn't happening!"
My sentiments exactly. One helluva vivid dream,though.
"Hey. What village are you from,horse thief?"
Ralof cooled down in a hurry,considering that the man he was addressing was more-or-less guilty of defamation of the crown,in Ralof's eyes. Lokir answered the question with one of his own; The man was guarded.
"Why do you care?"
Ralof shrugged,and replied,as if he were lecturing a child; In all practicality,he was,really.
"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."
After a second,Lokir replied; The man sounded as if he were on the verge of tears.
"Rorikstead. I'm... I'm from Rorikstead."
Absently,you replied to the question,as well,though not out loud.
Toronto.
The wagons trundled along for several more minutes,before a commotion ahead of the caravan; Soldiers were conversing with the general. Last stop,Helgen. Imperials,executioners,and Alduin.
"General Tullius,sir! The headsman is waiting!"
You could practically hear Lokir's neck strain as his head whipped to look at the front of the caravan. You turned your head in that direction as well,and indeed,the caravan was approaching Helgen's Eastern gate.
"Good! Let's get this over with!"
That voice. That damn voice. It fits. Micheal Hogan does an excellent beleaguered authority figure. You might be aromantic,but damn that's a fine voice.
Sometimes,it's awkward being an audiophile.
And that's when Lokir started to metaphorically piss his britches.
"Shor,Mara,Dibella,Kynareth,Akatosh! Divines! Please,help me!"
All you could do was roll your eyes. Sure,death's scary... But it's out of his hands. Why worry?
The gates swung open to the chorus of groaning wood and screeching iron hinges. As the caravan made its way into the town,you lift your head from your previous leaned back posture,and begin to take in the surroundings; You know what's up next. It's best to know what goes where ahead of time. While you were doing this,you noted that Tullius broke away from the caravan,and was discussing something with an Altmer on horseback,flanked by a pair of armoured Altmer footsloggers; Without a doubt in your mind,you peg her as Elenwen. And,judging by her body language,she was pissed. Opposite her,although you only saw his back,Tullius appeared to be wholly unphased.
Unflappable bastard.
Ralof caught your gaze,and looked over his shoulder. You could see the man's scowl; It looked as if he were forced to eat a litre of botulated yogurt.
"Look at him."
His voice dripped with venom and malice.
"General Tullius,the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this!"
Ralof silently fumed as the wagon rolled through town,though after a few seconds,Ralof spoke up again,changing the topic.
"This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if Vilod still makes her mead with juniper berries mixed in?"
Ralof scoffed,and continued his train of thought.
"Funny. When I was a boy,Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."
Well,that is the point of fortifications... You kept your snark to yourself; It wouldn't do to alienate him. Not yet,at least.
"Who are they,daddy? Where are they going?"
A voice from behind you got your attention. Leaning your head back,you saw a young boy and his father on their home's front porch. Haming,if I recall correctly.
"You need to go inside,little cub."
"Why? I wanna watch the soldiers!"
"Inside the house! Now!"
"Yes,papa..."
The father sent his son into the house,to spare his young eyes the horrors of a public execution. That won't help. Alduin will make sure of it.
A minute later,the wagons approached a wall,and you could make out that one overzealous Imperial Captain issuing orders...
"Get these prisoners out of the carts! MOVE IT!"
The woman's harsh yelling broke Lokir out of his stupor,prompting him to ask what is most likely the stupidest question ever uttered in Skyrim,
"Why are we stopping?"
You could just hear Ralof's laughter in his response,and you could swear he worded it just to stir the pot,
"Why do you think? End of the line."
When the cart came to a halt,you began to stand up,even before Ralof prompted you to.
"Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."
As everyone piled out of the wagon,Lokir began his impotent protests,
"No,wait! We're not rebels."
This time,you replied,in perfect stereo with Ralof,
"Face your death with some courage,thief."
Ralof threw a smirk at you,but Lokir continued his pleas,
"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!"
Your rolled your eyes as the obnoxious Imperial Captain started to bark out orders,
"Step towards the block when we call your name! One at a time!"
You can hear Ralof mutter under his breath beside you,
"Empire loves their damn lists..."
And so began the reading of the list; Each wagon had an Imperial soldier reading a list from a ledger,and with each name called,a Stormcloak marched away from the carts to the headsman's block,without hesitation. When Hadvar opened his mouth,your attention returned to him.
"Ulfric Stormcloak,Jarl of Windhelm."
As Ulfric marched to his supposed death,back straight and head high,Ralof called after him,
"It has been an honour,Jarl Ulfric!"
Fucking groupie.
"Ralof of Riverwood!"
Ralof nodded,turned on his heel,and marched off to the headsman's block after his Jarl. You note that very few people are left at the carts; Say what you will about the Empire,they're efficient when they want to be.
"Lokir or Rorikstead!"
Oh,this'll be fun to watch.
Lokir stepped forward to make his case,while you looked on with a look of sadistic glee; It was almost as if the man was written to be detested.
"No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!"
And with that,Lokir ran.
"HALT!"
The garrison's archers all simultaneously unslung their bows,and brought an arrow from their quivers to their bowstrings,just waiting for the order.
"You're not going to kill me!"
Lokir was taking the wide turn,now,in front of Haming's house.
"ARCHERS!"
The sound of straining bowstrings and bow limbs filled the air,followed almost instantly by a trio of near-simultaneous snaps as the strings crashed against their bows. The arrows were fired with deadly precision. They smashed through both of Lokir's knees. The prisoner shrieked. He tumbled to the ground in agony.
And was silenced. An arrow from above slammed into his skull. The point jutted from his mouth,open in a silent scream.
Lokir's corpse hit the ground with a tumble,and lay there,motionless,as blood began to rapidly pool from his knees and mouth.
The Imperial Captain turned to face the rest of the prisoners,wearing a confident,shit-eating smirk.
"Anyone else feel like running?"
Nope. You looked at Lokir's corpse down the road; Obviously,this dream isn't using Skyrim logic. It's running on reality's rules.
An improvement,really.
"Wait."
Here we go. Character creation time.
"You there. Step forward."
As he said this,Hadvar pointed at you with his quill,and you obliged,stepping forward.
"Who... Are you?"
Now,you had a choice; Do you give him you real,and very out-of-place,name? Or do you make up a name? You're an average Caucasian male,so you could easily pass as an Imperial,or a Breton. Maybe a suiting name would draw less suspicion? Who knows what the locals would do to you,if you make yourself stick out by giving the Imperials your real name. Then again,this is a dream,so there aren't any consequences...
Pick One
[] Real name; Steven Ridley.
[] Breton name.
-[] Write-in.
[] Imperial name.
-[] Write-in.
[] Dovah name; Numinex
Author's Note: Also,does anyone know how to do invisitext? I'll be needing it in the future. It'll be getting a LOT of mileage.
-Roughspun Tunic: One. Equipped.
-Roughspun Trousers: One pair. Equipped.
-Footwraps: One pair. Equipped.
-Leather wristbinds: One set. Equipped.
-Roughspun Trousers: One pair. Equipped.
-Footwraps: One pair. Equipped.
-Leather wristbinds: One set. Equipped.
Unknown.
-Quest - Unbound: In progress. Objective: Hurry up and wait.
-Quest - Lucid Dreaming: In progress. Objective: Enjoy the ride.
-Quest - Lucid Dreaming: In progress. Objective: Enjoy the ride.
Unknown.
Last edited:
01 - Unbound
Riddle78
Reality nibbler.
- Location
- CFB Middle of Nowhere on the Trans-Can
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter I: Unbound
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter I: Unbound
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Township of Helgen,Falkreath Hold,Skyrim,Mede Empire,Tamriel
Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
0930 hours,local time
You were still in debate with yourself over what name to provide to the Imperials when your mouth opened itself,and a single word came tumbling out,before you could realize,or do anything about it.Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
0930 hours,local time
"Numinex."
My true name.
And just like that,the entire execution grounds fell silent. The watching townsfolk looked on,their faces a mixture of incredulity,barely-constrained laughter,or utter confusion. The Stormcloaks all swivelled ad one to behold you,wearing looks of weary amusement,to the last. Even Ulfric,bound and gagged as he was,cracked a bit of a grin - You could see it in the way his eyes twitched. Tullius,and every other Cyrodiilic Imperial present,looked utterly mystified,though Hadvar's Captain looked like she was about to blow a gasket.
As for Hadvar himself,he looked like he was somewhere between offended and amused,though he was gobsmacked all the same; His jaw hung limp from his face. After a pregnant pause,Hadvar picked his chin up from the ground,and asked,
"Uum... Excuse me?"
Where the fuck did that come from? Whatever,time to pull this out of the shitter.
It came from the depths of my soul.
"Got potatoes in your ears? I said Numinex. Figured it'd be a nice joke. Divines know that these poor sods could use one last laugh,am I right,ladies and gentlemen?"
The Stormcloaks laughed at that,some heartily,some chuckling softly,some merely just giving a lone bark of a laugh. But,they all laughed,in some way.
"But,in all seriousness,my name's Steven Ridley. Backwards family. Don't ask."
My name is Numinex!
Hadvar looked even more confused than before,and his Captain's hand was drifting towards her sword. However,Hadvar spoke up,saving you from what was likely going to be a summary execution.
"Captain,what should we do? He's not on the list."
Damn right,I'm not on the list!
"Forget the list. He goes to the block."
The Captain sneered at you with utter contempt. You sneered right back.
"By your orders,Captain."
Hadvar turned to look at you,sorrow written deep in his features,
"I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to Cyrodiil. Follow the Captain,Ridley."
You shrugged,and followed the Captain to the headsman's block. Along the way,you decided to play up your joker persona.
"You know,you Imperials might wanna hurry things along. Alduin the World Eater's on the way to crash the party. Don't want Ulfric getting away in the chaos."
While everyone looked at you with an expression that could only be described as bewildered amusement,the Captain began to wheel around,dropping her hand to her sword's hilt.
SHIT!
The Captain squared herself before you. The arming sword left its scabbard. In the same motion,she made to deliver a draw cut. You step forward,and to the left. Within her reach,her cut missed. Time seemed to slow. You saw everything,one step a time. You stepped forward again. Knee between her own,you pitch forward. Your shoulder strikes the Captain's armoured sternum. You turn on your forward toe. You pass her left side. You raise your own left leg. Your knee strikes her groin. She begins to double over. You turn on your right toes. Your left leg snaps out from between the Captain's own. Her left leg follows. The Captain pitches forward. She strikes the ground with her front.
And just like that,it was over in as long as it took for the other Imperials to draw their swords.
A feat worthy of a Dovah such as yourself.
"Look,lady,I don't know how you got your commission,but let the damn headsman do his job!"
You could hear bows straining,your own panting,as well as your heart thundering in your chest. Then,a sword slid home into its scabbard. You looked over your shoulder to see the general had sheathed his blade. You nod,and walk the rest of the way to the crowd of waiting Stormcloaks,as the Imperial Captain scrambles to her feet. Everyone else put their weapons away,as the Captain made her way to the assembled officers presiding over the execution; Her face was beet red. You couldn't help but smirk.
Be humbled,mal joor.
Ralof leaned in to whisper in your ear,
"Impressive. You one of our special troops?"
You shake your head.
"Civilian. Wrong place,wrong time."
Ralof raised an eyebrow; Doesn't look like he's buying the truth.
"Then where'd you learn to do that?"
You shrugged.
"Military parents,fascination with arms,armour,the military,and martial arts. Picked up a few things. Adrenaline did most of the work,though."
Ralof chuckled.
"You would've made a great Son of Skyrim."
Again,you shrugged.
"Another place,another time? Maybe."
Your hushed conversation was interrupted by the Captain.
"Silence,cur! The dead do not speak!"
You simply shot the Captain a bored look as Ralof straightened back up; The Captain's look of anger only deepened. However,if the Captain was going to say anything,she didn't get the chance,as General Tullius stepped up to his opposite and equal,Ulfric,and launched into a little speech.
"Ulfric Stormcloak! Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use the power of the Voice to murder his king,and usurp his throne!"
As Tullius spoke,he gestured to the town around him. All Ulfric could do was scowl,and grunt in protest.
"You started this war! Plunged Skyrim into chaos! And now the Empire is going to put you down,and restore the peace!"
Just as Tullius finished his little rant at Ulfric,however,the World Eater roared in the distance,grabbing everybody's attention,and prompting Hadvar to ask what everyone was thinking,
"What was that?"
Tullius,however,was willing to brush it off,to hasten Ulfric's death.
"It's nothing. Carry on!"
Tullius stepped away from Ulfric,and his Sheogorath-touched Captain saluted her general.
"Yes,General Tullius!"
She turned to the priestess beside her,and gave the order.
"Give them their last rites."
The priestess nodded,and began her sermon.
"As we commend your souls to Aetherius,blessings of the Eight Divines upon you,for you are the salt and earth of Nirn,our beloved--"
However,her semon was interrupted by a particularly ballsy Stormcloak marching forward.
Oh,no. You're not dying on the block.
You begin to move forward,yourself. Really,it was more of a lunging step.
"For the love of Talos,SHUT UP,and let's get this over with!"
And just like that,you were in front of the tall man,pressing the back of your shoulder against his chest.
"How about you wait? That noise earlier wasn't nothing. Trust me."
The Stormcloak looked down at you with a mixture of confusion and indignant anger,but it was the Imperial Captain that got the last word in,
"Speak again,jester,and you're next! If he wants to die,then who are you to stop him?"
Then,Alduin roared once more,and,again,Hadvar was the one to speak up.
"There it is again. Did you hear that?"
You groaned in frustration. Dream or not,this was annoying; Their stupidity knows no bounds.
"I said it before! It's Alduin! Whatever you're going to do,get it done,NOW!"
And that's when the Captain snapped.
"That's it,the madman's first! To the block! NOW!"
Well,mission accomplished,I guess?
"To the block,Ridley. Nice and easy."
You look up at the Stormcloak,who looks back to you. You share a shrug,and do as you're told. As you reach the block,and turn to face it,the Captain speaks once more.
"Open your mouth."
Great. A gag.
"Well,then. Didn't know the Legion let people with your kinks in."
That earned you a pommel to the kidney,but you left your mouth open,and sure enough,you were gagged,then forced down onto the chopping block. You looked past the headsman,who was now,very slowly,winding up for the chop. Coming from the mountains beyond the town was Alduin,a great flying beast,black as obsidian,large as an average house in Toronto.
Alduin roared for a third time. It sounded like it came from right above the town. This time,the Captain took notice.
"Sentries,what do you see?"
"It's in the clouds!"
And then,the World Eater,quite literally,dropped from the sky to land on the tower dominating the centre of town. Revealed to all present,a Stormcloak stated the obvious,breaking the silence,and inciting panic.
"DRAGON!"
My King has come.
Well,no shit,Sherlock!
"Lok Mah Shul!"
Sky Fall Sun!
The Thu'um thundered through the air like a thunderclap,and heeding Alduin's Voice,the sky swirled into a baleful eye,dropping meteorites upon Helgen.
"Don't just stand there! KILL THAT THING! Guards,get the townspeople to safety!"
And there's Tullius taking charge,despite a literal Armageddon Scenario staring him down.
"Someone get the battlemages out here,NOW!"
In the bedlam,the headsman was knocked to the ground,and trampled underfoot. Unfortunately,you were also knocked around and dazed,though,thankfully,you avoided death-by-lemmings. Your mind was snapped back to a semblance of order by Ralof yelling to you over the din,
"Hey,Imperial! Get up! Come on! The gods won't give us another chance!"
In this Quest,stamina,as a quantified stat,does not exist. Speed control will largely be automatic,though speed in combat will default to walking and jogging. It will be assumed that Steven knows how to manage his own energy,though if combat drags on for too long,usually about three minutes,he will start to feel the effects of battle fatigue and overexertion.
As Ralof sprinted in behind you,he slammed the door shut,and barred it for good measure,then turned to address his king.
"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing!? Could the legends be true!?"
I thought you were a true Son of Skyrim? Hypocrite.
"Legends don't burn down villages."
A real bard,this guy. Not.
You rolled your eyes at the needlessly simply statement. However,Ulfric didn't seem to notice,and proceeded to give marching orders.
"We need to move! NOW!"
Ralof nodded,and pointed to the stairs.
"Up through the tower! Let's go!"
You didn't need to be told twice. You ran up the stairs to the second level,and stopped when he reached a dead-end,with two Stormcloaks trying to clear the rubble to the top level.
"We just need to move some of these rocks to clear the way!"
That's when you heard Alduin outside,first his wings flapping,then the dull thud as he clung to the side of the tower. You retreated back down the stairs,just as Alduin rammed his head through the wall.
"Gods! GET BACK!"
Way ahead of you,Ralof.
"Yol... TOOR SHUL!"
Fire Inferno Sun!
Alduin unleashed a stream of fire into the tower's middle level,reducing the men there to little more than ash and cinders. Running back up the stairs,you and Ralof look out the now-vacant hole in the side of the tower,right into a hole in the inn's roof.
"See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof,and keep going! GO! We'll follow when we can!"
To punctuate his point,Ralof slapped your back urgently; Taking the hint,you take a running jump through the hole in the wall,falling through the hole in the roof,and finally landing - Quite heavily - On the wooden floor of the inn's upper floor.
Fuck,that hurts like a bitch.
In this Quest,health,as a quantified stat,does not exist. Instead,there will be injuries,wounds,and other means of measuring one's deteriorating physical health. Usually in combat,you'll simply get killed long before you earn yourself a significant injury.
Straightening up,you sprint out of the inn,just in time to see Alduin begin to come down from a lazy orbit of Helgen. You sprint for cover behind a burning house,with Hadvar yelling to Haming all the while.
"Haming! You need to get over here! NOW!"
As Haming ran from his dying father,Hadvar noticed Alduin's descent.
"TOROLF!"
Alduin landed on the dying man,reducing him to paste.
"Yol..."
Fire
"Gods! Everyone get back!"
Hadvar turned,scooped up Haming with his free arm,and dove for cover,just as Alduin completed his Shout.
"TOR SHUL!"
Inferno Sun!
Hadvar pushed himself back to his feet as Alduin lifted off once more,finally noticing you.
"Still alive,Ridley? Stay close to me,if you want it to stay that way."
Hadvar turned and addressed the elderly man,who,to his credit,was decked out in a cast iron breastplate,with matching bracers and shin guards,and he clutched a wrought iron arming sword in his right hand.
"Gunnar! Take care of the boy! I need to find General Tullius and join the defence!"
The old man saluted with his sword,and replied,
"Gods guide you,Hadvar."
And with that,you and Hadvar took off down the road,along the wall that bisected the town,behind a burning building.
"Stay close to the wall; We can use it as cover against the dragon!"
As if on cue,as you were approaching an intersection between buildings,Alduin dropped out of the sky once more to land on the wall above you,and incinerated an Imperial archer; Hadvar stayed silent throughout the whole affair,as did you,though the gag helped; Neither of you wanted to draw attention to yourselves.
When Alduin took off,Hadvar waved for you to follow him,
"Quickly! Follow me!"
As the two of you burst out onto the street,though a burnt-down house,you were greeted by the bulk of the battle; An entire battalion of archers,with the backup of a battlemage battalion,were raining fire and arrows on Alduin from the ground,with Tullius in the middle of it all,issuing orders. However,when he caught sight of you and Hadvar,he directly addressed his subordinate,
"HADVAR! INTO THE KEEP,SOLDIER! WE'RE LEAVING!"
Hadvar turned towards the keep without slowing down,and called to you,
"It's you and me,Ridley! Stay close!"
However,you hesitated. You don't know why,but you did. As Alduin wheeled around from his orbit to make another pass,Tullius bellowed,
"RUN,YOU IDIOT!"
Whelp! That's that!
Deciding not to push the general's patience further,you sprint after Hadvar. Behind you,Alduin roared,and swooped down to the ground,talons first. He grabbed an archer from the wall,and ascended once more,and as he levelled out,he dropped the flailing soldier. He shrieked in terror all the way down. You didn't see him land,and part of you didn't want to.
As you caught up to Hadvar in front of the keep,you saw Ralof hop down from the wall; The man was apparently a seasoned mountaineer to be able to scale the wall without tools. Though,along the way,he managed to find himself a handaxe. Hadvar yelled across the court to his enemy,
"Ralof,you damned traitor! Out of my way!"
Ralof drew his axe,and stood between Hadvar,and thus you,and the keep's doors.
"We're escaping,Hadvar. You're not stopping us,this time!"
As Alduin made another orbit,and swooped down to throw another archer into the sky,Hadvar barked,
"FINE! I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!"
Ralof and Hadvar made for different entrances to the keep; Hadvar for the more distant one,which you remember to be the barracks,and Ralof to the closer one,an antechamber of some sort.
"You! Come on! Into the keep!"
"With me,Ridley! Let's go!"
Well,then. Time for a choice; Do you follow Ralof,or Hadvar? Both have expressed more than a basic level of friendliness to you,and while Hadvar is a Legionnaire,he very obviously was opposed to your execution. Who do you follow?
Pick One.
[] Hadvar.
[] Ralof.
Furthermore,it is time for you to pick your initial gear. Pick from the following categories. Weapon classes are described at the bottom.
Pick One Per Category.
[] Category: Arms.
-[] Single light weapon.
--[] Write-in weapon class.
-[] Two light weapons.
--[] Write-in weapon classes.
-[] A light weapon & shield.
--[] Write-in weapon class and shield class.
-[] A set of fist weapons.
-[] A single heavy weapon.
--[] Write-in weapon class.
-[] A bow.
--[] Write-in weapon class.
[] Category: Armour.
-[] Light armour.
-[] Heavy armour.
-[] Clothing.
-[] Robes.
--[] Unarmoured.
--[] Mail.
--[] Plated.
With Perkus Maximus,all weapons fall into at least a single overarching damage category; Bladed,Piercing,and Blunt. Bladed weapons excel at inflicting great open wounds,causing the victim to bleed out quickly,even if the strike wasn't immediately fatal. Piercing weapons excel at penetrating armour to strike at vitals,often ignoring trauma to inflict more strategic damage. Blunt weapons are designed to largely ignore armour,in trained hands,and can also be used to disorient the target,as well as disrupt their footing.
The following is a list of weapon classes,organized by governing Skill.
Light Weapons
Weapons governed by the perks offered by Light Weaponry. One-handed weapons,with the sole exception being the katana.
-Arming Sword: Basic vanilla swords,and workhorse of armies. Bladed.
-Shortsword: A shorter,easier-to-handle sword. Bladed.
-Side Sword: A lighter,more nimble sword. Falsely referred to as "Longsword" in the game. Bladed.
-Scimitar: A hefty curved sword,designed for savage chops and draw-cuts. Bladed.
-Sabre: A light,long,curved sword,designed for use from horseback. Bladed.
-Katana: While balanced for use in both hands,it's light enough to be confused for a one-handed weapon. A single curved edge with draw-cutting in mind,awkward to thrust with. Bladed.
-Wakizashi: A shorter curved blade that is easy to both thrust and cut with its single edge. Bladed and Piercing.
-Tanto: A straight,single-edged dagger. Bladed and Piercing.
-Dagger: The assassin's choice; Double edged,a wicked point,and easily concealed. Bladed and piercing.
-Spear: A short polearm,designed for use in one hand. Has a reach advantage over other light weapons. Piercing.
-Spiked Mace: A mace with spikes on it; An amazing armour demolisher. Blunt and Piercing.
-Spiked Club: The improvised cousin to the above. Still effective. Blunt and Piercing.
-Pickaxe: While it is indeed a tool,a pickaxe can easily split a boulder; A human skull would be an afterthought. Blunt and Piercing.
-Mace: A purpose-made bludgeon; An excellent choice for punishing armoured foes. Blunt.
-Club: Improvised,but every bit as deadly as the mace. Blunt.
-Maul: A small,weaponised hammer. Packs significantly more momentum than a mace. Blunt.
-Hatchet: A small axe,capable of chopping off limbs in trained hands. Bladed and Blunt.
-Handaxe: The hatchet's bigger brother,the handaxe offers more leverage and reach over the hatchet. Bladed and Blunt.
Fist Weapons
Governed by the Light Weaponry perks,these weapons only truly shine when combined with the appropriate perks from Dexterity.
-Knuckle Duster: Easily concealed knuckle coverings,capable of shattering bones and denting armour with a punch,all while keeping the fingers free. Blunt.
-Claw: Fist weapons with one or more piercing points,complete with a protective fistguard,allowing the user to freely use their hand in combat. Piercing.
-Katar: Fist weapons sporting a large blade at the end of a handguard,enabling clever use of the hand in a fight. Bladed.
Heavy Weapons
Two-handed to the last,these weapons benefit from the perks offered by Heavy Weaponry.
-Langschwert: Two handed swords with a lighter blade,making for excellent flaying weapons. Bladed.
-Odachi: The katana's big brother; There's no mistaking this thing for a one-handed weapon,as the long,curved blade makes draw-cuts devastating,though thrusting is just about impossible. Bladed.
-Partisan: A long-hafted spear,with a broad head,designed for both cutting and thrusting,offering versatility at a controlling reach. Bladed and Piercing.
-Polehammer: Effectively,a maul with a rather long haft,affording excellent leverage and reach for crushing armour from a distance. Blunt.
-Longmace: A long haft with a weighted crushing head at one end,longmaces are the economy version of polehammers,though they're equally effective. Blunt.
-Quarterstaff: The weapon of travellers,the humble quarterstaff offers excellent versatility for a simple pole. Blunt.
-Battle Axe: Big,two handed,and often with two blades,battle axes are designed with cleaving in mind. Bladed and Blunt.
-Zweihander: With excellent reach,zweihanders offer astonishing leverage and cutting power,as well as enough weight behind them to even dent armour. Bladed and Blunt.
-Halberd: These polearms are capable of filling any tactical niche a polearm can fill,rendering them incredibly versatile,though more specialized weapons can outperform them. Bladed,Piercing,and Blunt.
Ranged Weapons
Death from a distance. These weapons benefit from the perks provided by Ranged Weaponry,although bear in mind that crossbows are not available as starting equipment.
-Shortbow: Small and portable,with a low draw weight,shortbows trade stopping power for weight of fire,though they can be ruinous in the right hands. Piercing.
-Longbow: Large and in charge,longbows have a high draw weight,demanding great strength and stamina to use,and though they fire slowly,one arrow is often all you need,especially from a distance. Piercing.
-Crossbow: Technology revived by the Dawnguard,crossbows offer a devastating initial shot with extensive customization potential,though they're hampered by their long reload time. Piercing.
The following is a list of weapon classes,organized by governing Skill.
Light Weapons
Weapons governed by the perks offered by Light Weaponry. One-handed weapons,with the sole exception being the katana.
-Arming Sword: Basic vanilla swords,and workhorse of armies. Bladed.
-Shortsword: A shorter,easier-to-handle sword. Bladed.
-Side Sword: A lighter,more nimble sword. Falsely referred to as "Longsword" in the game. Bladed.
-Scimitar: A hefty curved sword,designed for savage chops and draw-cuts. Bladed.
-Sabre: A light,long,curved sword,designed for use from horseback. Bladed.
-Katana: While balanced for use in both hands,it's light enough to be confused for a one-handed weapon. A single curved edge with draw-cutting in mind,awkward to thrust with. Bladed.
-Wakizashi: A shorter curved blade that is easy to both thrust and cut with its single edge. Bladed and Piercing.
-Tanto: A straight,single-edged dagger. Bladed and Piercing.
-Dagger: The assassin's choice; Double edged,a wicked point,and easily concealed. Bladed and piercing.
-Spear: A short polearm,designed for use in one hand. Has a reach advantage over other light weapons. Piercing.
-Spiked Mace: A mace with spikes on it; An amazing armour demolisher. Blunt and Piercing.
-Spiked Club: The improvised cousin to the above. Still effective. Blunt and Piercing.
-Pickaxe: While it is indeed a tool,a pickaxe can easily split a boulder; A human skull would be an afterthought. Blunt and Piercing.
-Mace: A purpose-made bludgeon; An excellent choice for punishing armoured foes. Blunt.
-Club: Improvised,but every bit as deadly as the mace. Blunt.
-Maul: A small,weaponised hammer. Packs significantly more momentum than a mace. Blunt.
-Hatchet: A small axe,capable of chopping off limbs in trained hands. Bladed and Blunt.
-Handaxe: The hatchet's bigger brother,the handaxe offers more leverage and reach over the hatchet. Bladed and Blunt.
Fist Weapons
Governed by the Light Weaponry perks,these weapons only truly shine when combined with the appropriate perks from Dexterity.
-Knuckle Duster: Easily concealed knuckle coverings,capable of shattering bones and denting armour with a punch,all while keeping the fingers free. Blunt.
-Claw: Fist weapons with one or more piercing points,complete with a protective fistguard,allowing the user to freely use their hand in combat. Piercing.
-Katar: Fist weapons sporting a large blade at the end of a handguard,enabling clever use of the hand in a fight. Bladed.
Heavy Weapons
Two-handed to the last,these weapons benefit from the perks offered by Heavy Weaponry.
-Langschwert: Two handed swords with a lighter blade,making for excellent flaying weapons. Bladed.
-Odachi: The katana's big brother; There's no mistaking this thing for a one-handed weapon,as the long,curved blade makes draw-cuts devastating,though thrusting is just about impossible. Bladed.
-Partisan: A long-hafted spear,with a broad head,designed for both cutting and thrusting,offering versatility at a controlling reach. Bladed and Piercing.
-Polehammer: Effectively,a maul with a rather long haft,affording excellent leverage and reach for crushing armour from a distance. Blunt.
-Longmace: A long haft with a weighted crushing head at one end,longmaces are the economy version of polehammers,though they're equally effective. Blunt.
-Quarterstaff: The weapon of travellers,the humble quarterstaff offers excellent versatility for a simple pole. Blunt.
-Battle Axe: Big,two handed,and often with two blades,battle axes are designed with cleaving in mind. Bladed and Blunt.
-Zweihander: With excellent reach,zweihanders offer astonishing leverage and cutting power,as well as enough weight behind them to even dent armour. Bladed and Blunt.
-Halberd: These polearms are capable of filling any tactical niche a polearm can fill,rendering them incredibly versatile,though more specialized weapons can outperform them. Bladed,Piercing,and Blunt.
Ranged Weapons
Death from a distance. These weapons benefit from the perks provided by Ranged Weaponry,although bear in mind that crossbows are not available as starting equipment.
-Shortbow: Small and portable,with a low draw weight,shortbows trade stopping power for weight of fire,though they can be ruinous in the right hands. Piercing.
-Longbow: Large and in charge,longbows have a high draw weight,demanding great strength and stamina to use,and though they fire slowly,one arrow is often all you need,especially from a distance. Piercing.
-Crossbow: Technology revived by the Dawnguard,crossbows offer a devastating initial shot with extensive customization potential,though they're hampered by their long reload time. Piercing.
-Roughspun Tunic: One. Equipped.
-Roughspun Trousers: One pair. Equipped.
-Footwraps: One pair. Equipped.
-Leather wristbinds: One set. Equipped.
-Roughspun Trousers: One pair. Equipped.
-Footwraps: One pair. Equipped.
-Leather wristbinds: One set. Equipped.
Unknown.
-Quest - Unbound: In progress. Objective: Follow either Ralof or Hadvar into Helgen's keep.
-Quest - Lucid Dreaming: In progress. Objective: Enjoy the ride.
-Quest - Lucid Dreaming: In progress. Objective: Enjoy the ride.
Unknown.
Edit History; First Edit: Addition of Ceasefire and Robe Variant options. Second Edit; Removal of Ceasefire option,because I remembered we were gagged. Third Edit: Adding Edit History.
Last edited:
02 - The Hell am I Supposed to do With This Inside an Imperial Prison?
Riddle78
Reality nibbler.
- Location
- CFB Middle of Nowhere on the Trans-Can
To people looking ahead to things like the torture chamber and beyond,I'm gonna have to quote Farkas; Eyes on the prey,not the horizon.
Also,while we're pretty damn young here,I might as well establish this ASAP; My Omake Policy. Do whatever,so long as it's related to the Quest,and doesn't offend SV's rules,or my (admittedly tough-as-osmium-nails) Canadian sensibilities. Anyone who submits an Omake that I particularly enjoy will earn themselves a CHIM Point,which can be spent on any vote to add one to the value of your vote,and you can spend as many CHIM Points as you please on a single vote. So,if you dump three CHIM Points into a vote,your vote is worth four votes.
And,as I'm actively paying attention to new posts as I write this; I know how to use a bow. It's just my poor depth perception that makes accurate shooting,especially at a distance,difficult. Practise,trainers,and perk investment will all offer improvement,over time.
Which means,Alduin's here for you.
Pleasant shit to wake up to,if you're a suicidal masochist. Despite your love for Dark Souls,however,you're not.
So,you take off like a stone from a sling,sprinting for the barracks. Ralof might be a nice guy,but he serves what's effectively a fusion of Hitler,Stalin,and Rob Ford. That's not a faction you want to throw your hat in with,at least,not yet.
Alduin circled overhead,though you could hear him clearly.
"Zu'u Alduin,zok sahrot do naan ko Lein! Fen du hin sille ko Sovngarde! Daar Lein los DII!"
I am Alduin,most mighty of any in the World! I will devour your souls in Sovngarde! This World is MINE!
Halfway across the court,however,Alduin spoke once more,and what he said caused your heart to leap into your throat; You don't know why,as you aren't fluent on Dovahzul,but nonetheless,it makes you fear for your life.
"Hi aal vonun ni lingrah! Di nu,joor lir!"
You may hide no longer! Die now,mortal worm!
Your heart thundered in your ears like a stampede. Time seemed to slow,space seemed to distort and stretch. Your breath came in uneven bursts. You don't know how you know,but Alduin has finally spotted you. After what seemed like an eternity,you reached the door of the barracks,with Hadvar inside,waving you through. He was yelling something,but you couldn't make it out. All you heard was noise. All you could see were shapes and colours,moving. You took the turn,and bounced your shoulder off of the stone doorframe,and tumbled to the ground,safely inside. Before you were even halfway to hitting the floor,Hadvar was shutting the door.
And then,blackness.
You came to,and quickly scrambled up to your feet at the sound of Alduin roaring outside. And he sounded pissed. Obviously,you were only out for a couple of seconds,or else all would be quiet... Or you'd be dead. You looked around,and saw Hadvar turning to face you; It looked like he was on his way to the portcullis on the other end of the room,when he heard you moving.
"Good! You're alive. You had me scared for a second. Come here; Let me see if I can get those bindings off."
Don't need to tell me twice!
You step forward to Hadvar,as he drew his dagger from his belt. Slipping the blade between two lengths of leather,he turned the blade ninety degrees,then wrenched up,while drawing the weapon towards himself,cutting the leather. The leather bindings fell from your wrists,and slapped to the ground. You held out your hand expectantly,prompting Hadvar to hand you his dagger. Nodding in thanks,you use your right hand to make some space between your head and the back of the gag,then,with the dagger in the left,you reach behind your head,and cut the fabric with a clean draw-cut.
Spitting out the gag,you hand the daggger back to Hadvar.
"Thanks. You didn't need to save my sorry ass."
With a loud groan,you arced your spine backwards,as you brought your arms over your head,rotating your wrists all the while. You only stopped flexing your spine when you heard that satisfying creaking sound come from your sternum; Afterward,you merely returned to an average standing posture.
"We should keep going; No telling how long we have before that dragon levels the place."
Casting his gaze around the barracks,Hadvar spotted the Warden's personal chest,which he pointed at.
"See if there's anything in that chest. Knowing our luck,we'll need to fight our way out of here."
You groaned as you made your way to the chest,and replied,
"Don't remind me. Your Captain represents everything that's wrong with the Legion,no offence. Seriously,how in the name of Oblivion did she earn an officer's commission!?"
You crouch down in front of the chest,looking like some sort of frog,by your reckoning,as you popped the latch,and opened the lid. As you peered into the chest,all you could do was frown. The equipment in the chest was not what you wanted; A langschwert and some mail? Right up your alley. But...
"A longbow? Indoors!?"
You pull the from the chest the weapon in question; It was a simple,no-frills lonbgow,only a little shorter than you were tall.
"I question the Legion's leadership more and more with each passing second."
Regardless,you continue to pull the equipment from the chest,quickly donning a simple gambeson for armour,despite the poor fit,before stringing the bow,and finally threading the belt through the quiver's fastening,and letting it hang from your belt,opening to the left. As you put the collection of arrows into the quiver,you also recover a key from the bottom of the container.
"Looks like you're on point,Hadvar. Here,catch."
You toss the key to Hadvar underhand,which he snatched from the air nimbly. He was scowling at you.
"Warden's key. I'm willing to bet money we'll need it. And don't look at me like that; No organization's perfect."
Hadvar's expression lightened,and took the lead,pulling on the chain to open the portcullis. You grip the bow in your right hand,as you pull an arrow from the quiver with your left,and nock the arrow,however,you don't draw; Holding a full draw,especially for a longbow,is an exhausting exercise. As you waited for the portcullis to open,Hadvar looked over his shoulder,and raised an eyebrow.
"Backhanded? Not many people fight like that."
You shrug.
I guess that's the local term for a southpaw.
"Yeah,I'm left handed. Almost exclusively,too."
As the portcullis rattled to a halt,Hadvar moved deeper into the keep,with you in tow,proceeding at a cautious jog. It wasn't long before you came upon another portcullis; Likely as part of an airlock system to keep prisoners out of the barracks,in the event of a riot. Beyond the wood-and-iron gate,you could hear voices; Two men,and a woman. One of the voices were familiar. Ralof.
"Stormcloaks ahead,Hadvar. Three,including Ralof. Sounds like they're stopping for a breather."
Your voice was hushed,and Hadvar nodded,listening to the conversation ahead.
"Right. I'll try to reason with them."
That flies about as well as a lead zeppelin in the game.
"Be ready for a fight,just in case their passion outweighs their reason."
Hadvar cracked a smirk at you.
"I'm a professional,'Numinex'. Stay alert. They'll go after you first,if things turn ugly."
You shuddered.
"Don't remind me."
As Hadvar pulled on the chain to open the second portcullis,your mind raced. It's doubtful that Hadvar alone would be able to convince Ralof and the others to play ball,and if push came to shove,Hadvar would be able to handle himself against two of the Stormcloaks. But you? That'd be a coin flip,especially with your gear. So,the million Septim question would be; Jump in on the diplomacy? Keep your mouth shut,and be ready for the inevitable shitstorm? Or maybe just cut the shit,and go in with an arrow in someone's eye socket... Hopefully. Though,if you do that,Hadvar'd better be on the fucking ball...
As the portcullis began to grind down,you heard two surprised gasps; Neither of them belonged to Ralof. What the fuck? Where'd Ralof go? Tick-tock,Steve...
Choose One.
[] Diplomacy: Write-in the gist of your case.
[] Wait for the fireworks.
[] Ambush: Write-in alpha strike,and overall follow-up plan.
Also,while we're pretty damn young here,I might as well establish this ASAP; My Omake Policy. Do whatever,so long as it's related to the Quest,and doesn't offend SV's rules,or my (admittedly tough-as-osmium-nails) Canadian sensibilities. Anyone who submits an Omake that I particularly enjoy will earn themselves a CHIM Point,which can be spent on any vote to add one to the value of your vote,and you can spend as many CHIM Points as you please on a single vote. So,if you dump three CHIM Points into a vote,your vote is worth four votes.
And,as I'm actively paying attention to new posts as I write this; I know how to use a bow. It's just my poor depth perception that makes accurate shooting,especially at a distance,difficult. Practise,trainers,and perk investment will all offer improvement,over time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter II: The Hell am I Supposed to do With This Inside an Imperial Prison?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter II: The Hell am I Supposed to do With This Inside an Imperial Prison?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Township of Helgen,Falkreath Hold,Skyrim,Mede Empire,Tamriel
Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
0935 hours,local time
You know you only had mere moments to make your choice. If you stuck around,Alduin will spot you; So far,this dream stuck you in the boots of the Dovahkiin,and so Occam's Razor dictates that you ARE Dovahkiin,at least until the Greybeards can say otherwise.Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
0935 hours,local time
Which means,Alduin's here for you.
Pleasant shit to wake up to,if you're a suicidal masochist. Despite your love for Dark Souls,however,you're not.
So,you take off like a stone from a sling,sprinting for the barracks. Ralof might be a nice guy,but he serves what's effectively a fusion of Hitler,Stalin,and Rob Ford. That's not a faction you want to throw your hat in with,at least,not yet.
Alduin circled overhead,though you could hear him clearly.
"Zu'u Alduin,zok sahrot do naan ko Lein! Fen du hin sille ko Sovngarde! Daar Lein los DII!"
I am Alduin,most mighty of any in the World! I will devour your souls in Sovngarde! This World is MINE!
Halfway across the court,however,Alduin spoke once more,and what he said caused your heart to leap into your throat; You don't know why,as you aren't fluent on Dovahzul,but nonetheless,it makes you fear for your life.
"Hi aal vonun ni lingrah! Di nu,joor lir!"
You may hide no longer! Die now,mortal worm!
Your heart thundered in your ears like a stampede. Time seemed to slow,space seemed to distort and stretch. Your breath came in uneven bursts. You don't know how you know,but Alduin has finally spotted you. After what seemed like an eternity,you reached the door of the barracks,with Hadvar inside,waving you through. He was yelling something,but you couldn't make it out. All you heard was noise. All you could see were shapes and colours,moving. You took the turn,and bounced your shoulder off of the stone doorframe,and tumbled to the ground,safely inside. Before you were even halfway to hitting the floor,Hadvar was shutting the door.
And then,blackness.
You came to,and quickly scrambled up to your feet at the sound of Alduin roaring outside. And he sounded pissed. Obviously,you were only out for a couple of seconds,or else all would be quiet... Or you'd be dead. You looked around,and saw Hadvar turning to face you; It looked like he was on his way to the portcullis on the other end of the room,when he heard you moving.
"Good! You're alive. You had me scared for a second. Come here; Let me see if I can get those bindings off."
Don't need to tell me twice!
You step forward to Hadvar,as he drew his dagger from his belt. Slipping the blade between two lengths of leather,he turned the blade ninety degrees,then wrenched up,while drawing the weapon towards himself,cutting the leather. The leather bindings fell from your wrists,and slapped to the ground. You held out your hand expectantly,prompting Hadvar to hand you his dagger. Nodding in thanks,you use your right hand to make some space between your head and the back of the gag,then,with the dagger in the left,you reach behind your head,and cut the fabric with a clean draw-cut.
Spitting out the gag,you hand the daggger back to Hadvar.
"Thanks. You didn't need to save my sorry ass."
With a loud groan,you arced your spine backwards,as you brought your arms over your head,rotating your wrists all the while. You only stopped flexing your spine when you heard that satisfying creaking sound come from your sternum; Afterward,you merely returned to an average standing posture.
"We should keep going; No telling how long we have before that dragon levels the place."
Casting his gaze around the barracks,Hadvar spotted the Warden's personal chest,which he pointed at.
"See if there's anything in that chest. Knowing our luck,we'll need to fight our way out of here."
You groaned as you made your way to the chest,and replied,
"Don't remind me. Your Captain represents everything that's wrong with the Legion,no offence. Seriously,how in the name of Oblivion did she earn an officer's commission!?"
You crouch down in front of the chest,looking like some sort of frog,by your reckoning,as you popped the latch,and opened the lid. As you peered into the chest,all you could do was frown. The equipment in the chest was not what you wanted; A langschwert and some mail? Right up your alley. But...
"A longbow? Indoors!?"
You pull the from the chest the weapon in question; It was a simple,no-frills lonbgow,only a little shorter than you were tall.
"I question the Legion's leadership more and more with each passing second."
Regardless,you continue to pull the equipment from the chest,quickly donning a simple gambeson for armour,despite the poor fit,before stringing the bow,and finally threading the belt through the quiver's fastening,and letting it hang from your belt,opening to the left. As you put the collection of arrows into the quiver,you also recover a key from the bottom of the container.
Unlike in Skyrim,Season Unending will not provide the protagonist with a personal Plane of Oblivion in which to store their things. Carry capacity will,almost exclusively,be dependent on bulk and volume,rather than weight; You need to be able to easily stow it in a bag or pouch,or otherwise hang it on your person. Which means,unless you're getting creative,no lugging around an extra set of armour,or enough weapons to arm a contubernium or ten. As such,pack your cargo wisely. It should be noted that I've gone on several military rucksack marches,with a full load,as a curiosity; Unless you're going into absurdity,I can handle a fairly heavy load on my back for a relatively long time.
You toss the key to Hadvar underhand,which he snatched from the air nimbly. He was scowling at you.
"Warden's key. I'm willing to bet money we'll need it. And don't look at me like that; No organization's perfect."
Hadvar's expression lightened,and took the lead,pulling on the chain to open the portcullis. You grip the bow in your right hand,as you pull an arrow from the quiver with your left,and nock the arrow,however,you don't draw; Holding a full draw,especially for a longbow,is an exhausting exercise. As you waited for the portcullis to open,Hadvar looked over his shoulder,and raised an eyebrow.
"Backhanded? Not many people fight like that."
You shrug.
I guess that's the local term for a southpaw.
"Yeah,I'm left handed. Almost exclusively,too."
As the portcullis rattled to a halt,Hadvar moved deeper into the keep,with you in tow,proceeding at a cautious jog. It wasn't long before you came upon another portcullis; Likely as part of an airlock system to keep prisoners out of the barracks,in the event of a riot. Beyond the wood-and-iron gate,you could hear voices; Two men,and a woman. One of the voices were familiar. Ralof.
"Stormcloaks ahead,Hadvar. Three,including Ralof. Sounds like they're stopping for a breather."
Your voice was hushed,and Hadvar nodded,listening to the conversation ahead.
"Right. I'll try to reason with them."
That flies about as well as a lead zeppelin in the game.
"Be ready for a fight,just in case their passion outweighs their reason."
Hadvar cracked a smirk at you.
"I'm a professional,'Numinex'. Stay alert. They'll go after you first,if things turn ugly."
You shuddered.
"Don't remind me."
As Hadvar pulled on the chain to open the second portcullis,your mind raced. It's doubtful that Hadvar alone would be able to convince Ralof and the others to play ball,and if push came to shove,Hadvar would be able to handle himself against two of the Stormcloaks. But you? That'd be a coin flip,especially with your gear. So,the million Septim question would be; Jump in on the diplomacy? Keep your mouth shut,and be ready for the inevitable shitstorm? Or maybe just cut the shit,and go in with an arrow in someone's eye socket... Hopefully. Though,if you do that,Hadvar'd better be on the fucking ball...
As the portcullis began to grind down,you heard two surprised gasps; Neither of them belonged to Ralof. What the fuck? Where'd Ralof go? Tick-tock,Steve...
Choose One.
[] Diplomacy: Write-in the gist of your case.
[] Wait for the fireworks.
[] Ambush: Write-in alpha strike,and overall follow-up plan.
-Roughspun Tunic: One. Equipped.
-Roughspun Trousers: One pair. Equipped.
-Imperial Gambeson: One. Equipped. Light armour.
-Footwraps: One pair. Equipped.
-Leather waist belt: One. Equipped.
-Leather quiver: One. Equipped.
-Iron-tipped arrows: Thirty-two. Thirty-one quivered,one in hand. Broadheads to the last.
-Simple longbow: One. Equipped. Drawn.
-Roughspun Trousers: One pair. Equipped.
-Imperial Gambeson: One. Equipped. Light armour.
-Footwraps: One pair. Equipped.
-Leather waist belt: One. Equipped.
-Leather quiver: One. Equipped.
-Iron-tipped arrows: Thirty-two. Thirty-one quivered,one in hand. Broadheads to the last.
-Simple longbow: One. Equipped. Drawn.
Unknown.
-Quest - Unbound: In progress. Objective: Follow Hadvar to safety,and try not to die.
-Quest - Lucid Dreaming: In progress. Objective: Ride it out.
-Quest - Lucid Dreaming: In progress. Objective: Ride it out.
Unknown.
Last edited:
03 - Friend or Foe?
Riddle78
Reality nibbler.
- Location
- CFB Middle of Nowhere on the Trans-Can
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter III - Friend or Foe?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter III - Friend or Foe?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Township of Helgen,Falkreath Hold,Skyrim,Mede Empire,Tamriel
Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
0940 hours,local time
As the portcullis made its way into the floor,you decided upon your course of action; Diplomacy. Now,while the Stormcloaks are famously inflexible,what with starting a war when they could've simply worshipped Talos quietly,you'll be leveraging something a little more compelling than public worship. Immediate survival,and the imminent End of Days. That said,Hadvar is about to commit a rather big mistake for their negotiations; He's just going to waltz in without first announcing his intentions.Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
0940 hours,local time
And,in the game,that's pretty much the exact reason why things go to shit. So,you open your mouth,to try and salvage the situation.
"We come in peace,Stormcloaks! We wish to negotiate!"
Hadvar looked at you over his shoulder,and nodded. His expression was hard to read,though it overall looked positive. Then,you heard a reply from the antechamber,Ralof. Due to the acoustics of the room,you had no idea where he was speaking from.
"You want to negotiate? What's there to negotiate,Imperial?"
Blind and deaf? Wonderful. This'll be a hard sell.
As Hadvar took a step forward,you grabbed his shoulder to stop him; If he walked into that room now,there'd be blood. He threw you a look,but after a moment,the look of realization dawned on his face. He nodded,then stepped back.
"How about imminent survival,for starters? That dragon just slaughtered everyone who didn't get into the keep. And considering how big it is? I don't think it'd have any issue in tearing this place down,too; You saw what it did to the watchtower,Ralof."
There was no reply from the other side,so you kept going. It looked like Hadvar was content to let you lead the negotiations.
"Also,the very fact that a dragon's out and about at all. Do you know what that means,people? All four of you are Nords! This is your history here."
After a pregnant pause,Hadvar and Ralof both made a wordless exclamation; It sounds like the penny just dropped. Ralof's reply was filled with dread and awe.
"The end of the world."
You smirked.
"Got it in one. So! Here's out offer; We all leave Helgen. Together. No fighting. No backstabbing. No facestabbing. We help eachother survive this,and go out seperate ways afterwards. That's what we're offering; Survival. Live to fight another day. Because right now? This problem goes beyond the war,the White-Gold Concordat,or even Talos."
Then,one of the nameless Stormcloaks opened his yawp.
"If it's the end of the world,then how're we going to survive,huh?"
You actually facepalmed at that. And the sound of the slap resonated throughout the hall and antechamber.
"Because the end of the world isn't immediate. If it were,we wouldn't even be having this discussion. Furthermore,there's the whole Dragonborn deal; The mortal with a dragon's soul,whose destiny is to defeat Alduin? Think ahead,people. If you throw your lives away here,it won't mean jack shit for anything."
Hadvar looked between you,and the antechamber. As far as you could tell,your logic was flawless; The problem's bigger than their stupid war,and if they try to fight their stupid war now,it won't mean a fucking thing. So,you offered them a chance to survive until they can make it mean something.
Please work.
Finally,Ralof spoke up,
"Fine. We'll leave together. But you'd better not try anything funny!"
You waved Hadvar to go ahead,who walked into the antechamber.
"You're paranoid,Ralof."
You followed Hadvar into the room,and continued,
"Why in Oblivion would we want to hurt our chances of getting through this mess alive?"
Ralof stepped out from beside the doorframe; It looked like he was gearing up to ambush you.
Smart man. Dangerous man.
Ralof snorted,and said,
"Because you Imperials can't be trusted. You sold our faith. You sold our souls!"
Okay,time to nip that in the bud.
"'Us' Imperials? I'm sorry,but I'm not even a citizen of the Empire. I might look like an Imperial to you,but I can guarantee you that I am not. So,do everyone a favour,and refrain from ever lumping me into their category again. I'm not an Imperial. I'm not a Son of Skyrim. I'm not with anyone in your war. My name is Steven Ridley."
The room fell silent. If it weren't for Alduin making noise outside,you could've heard a pin drop.
"Do we have an understanding,people? I'm not interested in your war. I'm not going to let anyone lump me in with either side. You both have good reasons to do what you do. But,in the end,I don't care,because it's not even my war."
You pointed at the iron bar door on the far side of the room.
"Someone get that open. We're wasting time arguing."
Almost as if your voice held immeasurable magickal power,Alduin let loose a particularly loud roar outside,and crashed into the keep; Dust and small stones fell to the ground from the walls and ceiling. Nobody argued,and Hadvar opened the gate. The five of you walked through the gate,and into a hallway,which led down. Hadvar broke the silence,
"We're coming up to the kitchen and larder. Should be some food,or even some potions inside."
Ralof snorted.
"Or poison."
"If you're just going to try and undermine this little truce,then you're welcome to step outside. Only an idiot stirs the pot in a time like this."
Ralof glared at you. He was a big man,and his armour lent even more bulk to his form. You simply glared right back at him.
"You know I'm right."
Ralof grunted,and looked forward once more.
As the party approached the bottom of the ramp,Alduin gave yet another mighty roar,and rammed the keep once more. Just as you rounded the corner,the ceiling ahead collapsed,blocking the hallway with a cacophonous chorus of thundering crashes. Your arm snapped up during this to cover your eyes,which was a good idea,as the dust washed over the party like a wave. Once everything settled,you lowered your arm,and asked,
"Everyone alright?"
The two nameless Stormcloaks murmured their assent,while Hadvar gave a firm affirmative. Ralof,however...
"Don't pretend to be our friend,renegade."
You rolled your eyes.
"Remember what I said earlier,Ralof. The more of us there are,the better our chances of actually seeing tomorrow. It's called pragmatism. Something you should try practising,rather than running your damn mouth."
You approached the closed door to the larder,and you could hear voices beyond. You raised your right hand,and said,
"Voices. Two men. One woman. And she's familiar."
It was all you needed to say on that front. Hadvar groaned. The Stormcloaks chuckled darkly,and you could hear them draw their weapons behind you.
"Hadvar,you know this place better than the rest of us,"
Not exactly true...
"Is there a way around this mess?"
Hadvar sighed; Not a reassuring sign.
"Yes,there is. Through the larder. And I doubt the garrison's Captain will listen to reason."
You rolled your eyes.
"What else is news? Alright. You take point,Hadvar."
"And what about us,renegade?"
You threw a wary look to Ralof.
"Stay out of sight. You'd do nothing but hurt attempts at negotiation. Especially you,Ralof. You have all the tact of Malacath."
Ralof looked at you in contempt. Before he could say or do anything,however,Hadvar spoke up,
"That won't work. She'd just attack me for desertion; She has a reputation."
"Wonderful. Fine. Just... Let's just get this shit done."
I want her dead. But can I stomach it?
The Stormcloaks chuckled again,and Hadvar sighed. Ralof took point,opening the larder's door as he brandished his handaxe. His friends,both wielding battle axes,charged in behind him,all bellowing at the top of their lungs,
"FREEDOM,OR SOVNGARDE!"
Subtle as a trainwreck.
You and Hadvar slipped into the room after them,Hadvar drawing his own sword,while you began to draw your nocked arrow back.
Combat in Season Unending will follow some basic rules; Armour does its damn job,people who make a living of fighting will know what they're doing,and generally speaking,taking a square hit's death. Combat will be swift,and brutal,as it tends to be in reality. If a single fight lasts for too long,usually about three or more minutes,then Steven will begin to feel the effects of combat fatigue,and his performance will suffer. This can very easily lead to death.
So,obviously,it's in everyone's best interests to end the fight as quickly as possible. When combat begins,I will usually end the post,and raise a vote for the course of action. There will occasionally be times where combat happens without a vote; This is because Steven didn't participate in the fight,for whatever reason. So,some things to bear in mind for combat;
1) Don't show off: Be quick,be efficient. In combat,showboats tend to die in a hurry. And showing off is both slow,and inefficient. In the time it takes for you to look cool,you could be killed three times over.
2) Fight smarter,not harder: Tying into the above,always seek to fight intelligently,either by using terrain,enemy movement,or anything else that springs to mind. The less fighting you have to do yourself,the better.
3) No actions are free: There's no way to halt time to quaff a dozen potions. If you plan on doing something,make damn well sure you have the space and time to do it. However,potions in Season Unending will be Witcher-styled one-sip phials,for the most part.
4) Remember,kids; A smart man knows when it's time to RUN LIKE A LITTLE BITCH!: In over your head? Run. In combat,I'll be actively trying to kill Steven,because that's what the enemy's trying to do. It's your job to actively try to ensure Steven's survival in these situations. Sometimes,all you can do is run.
So,obviously,it's in everyone's best interests to end the fight as quickly as possible. When combat begins,I will usually end the post,and raise a vote for the course of action. There will occasionally be times where combat happens without a vote; This is because Steven didn't participate in the fight,for whatever reason. So,some things to bear in mind for combat;
1) Don't show off: Be quick,be efficient. In combat,showboats tend to die in a hurry. And showing off is both slow,and inefficient. In the time it takes for you to look cool,you could be killed three times over.
2) Fight smarter,not harder: Tying into the above,always seek to fight intelligently,either by using terrain,enemy movement,or anything else that springs to mind. The less fighting you have to do yourself,the better.
3) No actions are free: There's no way to halt time to quaff a dozen potions. If you plan on doing something,make damn well sure you have the space and time to do it. However,potions in Season Unending will be Witcher-styled one-sip phials,for the most part.
4) Remember,kids; A smart man knows when it's time to RUN LIKE A LITTLE BITCH!: In over your head? Run. In combat,I'll be actively trying to kill Steven,because that's what the enemy's trying to do. It's your job to actively try to ensure Steven's survival in these situations. Sometimes,all you can do is run.
"I knew it! I knew you'd side with your own! Once I'm through with this cur,you're next!"
You were still drawing your arrow; You used shortbows in the past,and the difference in draw weight is astonishing. However,as you drew the arrow back,you also raised the bow,picking your target; The Captain. She was armoured,so your arrow,a broadhead,would be useless if it struck the plates. But,her face was exposed,as were her elbows,and legs,above the knees. And,at this close range,it'd be difficult to miss.
Then again,you've missed easier shots before.
However,before you could fire,Hadvar joined Ralof in the fight against the Captain,robbing you of any hope of a clean shot. So,instead,you turned your trunk to aim at one of the other Imperials.
"I'm sorry."
Hadvar's apology was strangely audible in the din of the skirmish,and then the Captain's corpse hit the floor,a bloody line dominating most of her face. Hadvar's sword was bloodied halfway down the blade; He managed to get a thrust into her face.
And then,the other Imperials died in short order.
Hadvar and Ralof split up,and with new enemies at their flanks,they were unable to fight back,and were killed.
All in the matter of seconds.
You eased back on the bowstring,having never got to fire your arrow.
"If I remember correctly,there should be some potions in here,somewhere. Should come in handy. I'll watch the door ahead."
Ralof nodded,and made his way to the other door,with his female subordinate,likely intending to cover their rear. The other Stormcloak went with Hadvar to help him watch the way forward.
And that left you to loot the place.
You strode over to the dining table by the fire,and quickly spotted a blue bottle on the shelf against the wall. Stepping around the table,you grab the bottle,and note that it's made of ceramic.
Sturdy.
Aah,potions. Eventually,all characters quaff at least one in Skyrim. However,in Season Unending,they'll be changing in functionality,thanks to the loss of quantification of stats. Healing potions close open wounds. Stamina potions are like StarCraft's stims. Magicka potions let you cast more before you start to feel the burn. Fortification potions,for the most part,don't exist anymore. Resistance potions,and by extension,resistance effects,are odd; Unlike in Skyrim,resistances can ratchet all the way up into immunity,though it'll be difficult to get there,and while resistances will be portrayed as percentages,their effects will still be felt qualitatively; 70% resistance to fire can let you take a fireball with only a couple of blisters,rather than boiling marrow.
Also,potions in Season Unending are kept in ceramic bottles. Ones made for combat are in little one-sip phials,while potions for other applications are in larger,flat-bottomed bottles. The ones we picked up are not for the battlefield.
Also,potions in Season Unending are kept in ceramic bottles. Ones made for combat are in little one-sip phials,while potions for other applications are in larger,flat-bottomed bottles. The ones we picked up are not for the battlefield.
You looked to your right,and saw one more potion on the butchering table. You pick it up,but note that it feels lighter than the others. Curious,you pop the cork,and peer within the bottle.
"Seriously? We got robbed; This one's empty!"
You throw the bottle to the floor,so nobody would confuse it for full again.
"That should be everything. It's all we have time for,anyways."
You turned to address the rear of the room,as Hadvar and the male Stormcloak opened the door,and piled out into the hall.
"RALOF! WE'RE MOVING OUT!"
You follow Hadvar out into the hall,and a few seconds later,Ralof and the female Stormcloak follow.
"What's next,Hadvar?"
I know,but I need to play the role.
"A torture room."
The Stormcloaks growled at that.
"Don't act so surprised. Unfortunately,they're needed for interrogations. I'm willing to bet that you make use of them,yourselves."
Ralof huffed,but didn't say a word; The Stormcloaks followed his lead. Hadvar nodded,and motioned for everyone to follow. The five of you entered the torture chamber to a sight of carnage; Three Stormcloaks,the torturer,and the torturer's assistant all lay dead around the room.
"Looks like we've missed the party. I think I prefer it that way."
Hadvar nodded at your statement. Meanwhile,Ralof spoke,
"Is there anything in here we can use? That cage over there has a mage in it."
You turn to look at the cage,and see the cage in question; You see a body in it,but can't make out anything else. Hadvar pointed at the lock,
"It's locked. I have some picks; Anyone want to take a crack at the lock?"
Everyone else murmured their negatives; Nobody had nimble fingers.
"I'll try."
You hold out your hand,and Hadvar handed you some picks from his pouch.
Now,then... Time to see what we have in the cage...
Pick One Per Category
[] Robes.
-[] Nord Style.
--[] Unarmoured.
--[] Mailed.
--[] Plated.
-[] Dunmer Style.
--[] Unarmoured.
--[] Mailed.
--[] Plated.
[] Spellbook.
-[] Write-in School.
--[] Write-in spell.
[] Staff.
-[] Write-in School.
--[] Write-in spell.
[] Discard equipment?
-[] Yes; Write-in what.
-[] No.
[] Loot cage?
-[] Yes; Write-in what.
-[] No.
[] Auxiliary Action
-[] Yes; Write-in what.
-[] No.
All of these spells are Novice level.
Alteration
Manipulation of both Mundus and Aetheius; The magic of altering the world around you.
-Oakflesh: Transmutes your flesh into wood,similar to a Spriggan,making you more resistant to physical assault,for one minute. Can potentially offer other bonuses.
-Candlelight: Produces a ball of cold,white-blue light,which orbits above your head and follows you for a minute,before vanishing.
-Warp: Time is slowed by half for three seconds,while you move twice as fast for two.
-Waterwalking: For one minute,you may walk on the surface of water,though at any time,you may also choose to dive.
-Equilibrium: Weaken yourself to provide more powerful spells; You can kill yourself with overuse of this spell. Must be channelled.
-Leeching Spikes: Halves your weapon's physical effectiveness for twenty seconds,but in exchange,the weapon saps your target's vital energies,and gives them to you,for the same period of time. Does not effect ranged weapons. Unavailable for staves.
Conjuration
The calling and binding of Daedra and souls; The magic of summoning and necromancy.
-Reanimate Beast: Reanimates a targeted animal corpse to serve as your minion until it's killed again,whereupon it ashes.
-Conjure Weak Flame Atronach: Calls a weak Flame Atronach from Oblivion; It will never grow in strength,under any circumstances. It may only remain on Nirn for three minutes. If killed violently before then,it explodes violently.
-Bound Dagger: Calls a Daedra from Oblivion,and binds it in the form of a dagger for two minutes. Release the weapon to return it to Oblivion. Unavailable for staves.
-Bound Sword: Calls a Daedra from Oblivion,and binds it in the form of an arming sword for two minutes. Release the weapon to return it to Oblivion. Unavailable for staves.
-Vein of Necrosis: While effortless to cast,all reanimation spells are more difficult to cast. However,all corpses you reanimate carry a hideous ichor,sprayed upon those that strike them in melee. Only one Vein may be active at any time. A Vein lasts for eternity,though it may be deactivated at any time. Unavailable for staves.
Destruction
Wielding energies to destroy and conquer; The magic of harming others and destroying things.
-Sparks: Spray a constant stream of electrical arcs in a cone before your hand. Saps magickal energies. Must be channelled.
-Flames: Spray a constant gout of fire in a cone in front of your hand. Ignites foes and allies,but not the terrain. Must be channelled.
-Frostbite: Spray a constant stream of supercooled air in a cone in front of your hand. Slows foes and allies,as well as sapping their stamina,but it doesn't freeze terrain. Must be channelled.
-Static Skin: Your next shock spell is significantly more energetic. The Skin lasts for ten days,and dispels itself once its activation conditions are met. Unavailable for staves.
-Charred Skin: The next time you are struck from a distance,the offender is treated to a fountain of flame erupting between their feet. The Skin lasts for ten days,and dispels itself once its activation conditions are met. Unavailable for staves.
-Crystal Skin: The next time you are struck in melee,the offender is entrapped in ice,until they can either break free,or are struck with physical force. The Skin lasts for ten days,and dispels itself once its activation conditions are met. Unavailable for staves.
Illusion
Manipulation of the perceptions of others,friend or foe; The magic of phantoms and manipulation.
-Fear: Instils a deep,uncanny sense of terror and dread in the target,for fifteen seconds. The target is rendered wholly immune to further direct manipulation Illusion spells.
-Insight: Learn basic information of the target,without drawing suspicion. Unavailable for staves.
-Clairvoyance: Offers knowledge of where to go for any goal you focus on. Must be channelled. Unavailable for staves.
-Courage: For one minute,the target is filled with a sense of immortality and conviction.
-Whisper: All spells are utterly silent. Must be channelled. Unavailable for staves.
Restoration
Life energies and all that entails; The magic of life energies,and the manipulation thereof.
-Chastise: Creates an aura that cripples the recovery of all undead in the vicinity,as well as setting them up for powerful combos. However,auras require the user's physical energy to maintain,rendering exhaustion easy. Lasts until disabled,or replaced. Unavailable for staves.
-Spell Ward: After a brief charging time, A shimmering,transparent magickal shield is erected before your hand. It will block a significant amount of magickal punishment,though if overtaxed,or struck by the Thu'um,it will shatter with staggering force. Disregards physical weapons and projectiles. Must be channelled.
-Recovery: Closes wounds of yourself or a living,non-Daedric target,slowly. Must be channelled.
Alteration
Manipulation of both Mundus and Aetheius; The magic of altering the world around you.
-Oakflesh: Transmutes your flesh into wood,similar to a Spriggan,making you more resistant to physical assault,for one minute. Can potentially offer other bonuses.
-Candlelight: Produces a ball of cold,white-blue light,which orbits above your head and follows you for a minute,before vanishing.
-Warp: Time is slowed by half for three seconds,while you move twice as fast for two.
-Waterwalking: For one minute,you may walk on the surface of water,though at any time,you may also choose to dive.
-Equilibrium: Weaken yourself to provide more powerful spells; You can kill yourself with overuse of this spell. Must be channelled.
-Leeching Spikes: Halves your weapon's physical effectiveness for twenty seconds,but in exchange,the weapon saps your target's vital energies,and gives them to you,for the same period of time. Does not effect ranged weapons. Unavailable for staves.
Conjuration
The calling and binding of Daedra and souls; The magic of summoning and necromancy.
-Reanimate Beast: Reanimates a targeted animal corpse to serve as your minion until it's killed again,whereupon it ashes.
-Conjure Weak Flame Atronach: Calls a weak Flame Atronach from Oblivion; It will never grow in strength,under any circumstances. It may only remain on Nirn for three minutes. If killed violently before then,it explodes violently.
-Bound Dagger: Calls a Daedra from Oblivion,and binds it in the form of a dagger for two minutes. Release the weapon to return it to Oblivion. Unavailable for staves.
-Bound Sword: Calls a Daedra from Oblivion,and binds it in the form of an arming sword for two minutes. Release the weapon to return it to Oblivion. Unavailable for staves.
-Vein of Necrosis: While effortless to cast,all reanimation spells are more difficult to cast. However,all corpses you reanimate carry a hideous ichor,sprayed upon those that strike them in melee. Only one Vein may be active at any time. A Vein lasts for eternity,though it may be deactivated at any time. Unavailable for staves.
Destruction
Wielding energies to destroy and conquer; The magic of harming others and destroying things.
-Sparks: Spray a constant stream of electrical arcs in a cone before your hand. Saps magickal energies. Must be channelled.
-Flames: Spray a constant gout of fire in a cone in front of your hand. Ignites foes and allies,but not the terrain. Must be channelled.
-Frostbite: Spray a constant stream of supercooled air in a cone in front of your hand. Slows foes and allies,as well as sapping their stamina,but it doesn't freeze terrain. Must be channelled.
-Static Skin: Your next shock spell is significantly more energetic. The Skin lasts for ten days,and dispels itself once its activation conditions are met. Unavailable for staves.
-Charred Skin: The next time you are struck from a distance,the offender is treated to a fountain of flame erupting between their feet. The Skin lasts for ten days,and dispels itself once its activation conditions are met. Unavailable for staves.
-Crystal Skin: The next time you are struck in melee,the offender is entrapped in ice,until they can either break free,or are struck with physical force. The Skin lasts for ten days,and dispels itself once its activation conditions are met. Unavailable for staves.
Illusion
Manipulation of the perceptions of others,friend or foe; The magic of phantoms and manipulation.
-Fear: Instils a deep,uncanny sense of terror and dread in the target,for fifteen seconds. The target is rendered wholly immune to further direct manipulation Illusion spells.
-Insight: Learn basic information of the target,without drawing suspicion. Unavailable for staves.
-Clairvoyance: Offers knowledge of where to go for any goal you focus on. Must be channelled. Unavailable for staves.
-Courage: For one minute,the target is filled with a sense of immortality and conviction.
-Whisper: All spells are utterly silent. Must be channelled. Unavailable for staves.
Restoration
Life energies and all that entails; The magic of life energies,and the manipulation thereof.
-Chastise: Creates an aura that cripples the recovery of all undead in the vicinity,as well as setting them up for powerful combos. However,auras require the user's physical energy to maintain,rendering exhaustion easy. Lasts until disabled,or replaced. Unavailable for staves.
-Spell Ward: After a brief charging time, A shimmering,transparent magickal shield is erected before your hand. It will block a significant amount of magickal punishment,though if overtaxed,or struck by the Thu'um,it will shatter with staggering force. Disregards physical weapons and projectiles. Must be channelled.
-Recovery: Closes wounds of yourself or a living,non-Daedric target,slowly. Must be channelled.
-Roughspun Tunic: One. Equipped.
-Roughspun Trousers: One pair. Equipped.
-Footwraps: One pair. Equipped.
-Imperial Gambeson: One. Equipped. Light armour.
-Leather Waist Belt: One. Equipped.
-Leather Quiver: One. Equipped.
-Iron-Tipped Arrows: Thirty-two. Quivered. Broadheads to the last.
-Simple Longbow: One. Equipped. Hitched on shoulder.
-Weak Health Potion,Domestic: Two. Upside-down on belt.
-Weak Stamina Potion,Domestic: One. Upside-down on belt.
-Weak Magicka Potion,Domestic: One. Upside-down on belt.
-Lockpick: Seven. One in and,six quivered.
-Roughspun Trousers: One pair. Equipped.
-Footwraps: One pair. Equipped.
-Imperial Gambeson: One. Equipped. Light armour.
-Leather Waist Belt: One. Equipped.
-Leather Quiver: One. Equipped.
-Iron-Tipped Arrows: Thirty-two. Quivered. Broadheads to the last.
-Simple Longbow: One. Equipped. Hitched on shoulder.
-Weak Health Potion,Domestic: Two. Upside-down on belt.
-Weak Stamina Potion,Domestic: One. Upside-down on belt.
-Weak Magicka Potion,Domestic: One. Upside-down on belt.
-Lockpick: Seven. One in and,six quivered.
Unknown.
-Quest - Unbound: In progress. Objective: Escape Helgen,and loot the dead mage.
-Quest - Lucid Dreaming: In progress. Objective: Ride it out.
-Quest - Peacemaker: In progress. Objective: Keep everyone in your party from killing eachother.
-Quest - Lucid Dreaming: In progress. Objective: Ride it out.
-Quest - Peacemaker: In progress. Objective: Keep everyone in your party from killing eachother.
Unknown
-Steven Ridley: Lightly armoured longbowman. Unaffiliated. De facto leader.
-Hadvar: Heavily armoured swordsman. Imperial. Guide.
-Ralof: Heavily armoured axeman. Stormcloak. Muscle.
-Male Stormcloak: Lightly armoured heavy axeman. Stormcloak. Cannon fodder.
-Female Stormcloak: Lightly armoured heavy axeman. Stormcloak. Cannon fodder.
-Hadvar: Heavily armoured swordsman. Imperial. Guide.
-Ralof: Heavily armoured axeman. Stormcloak. Muscle.
-Male Stormcloak: Lightly armoured heavy axeman. Stormcloak. Cannon fodder.
-Female Stormcloak: Lightly armoured heavy axeman. Stormcloak. Cannon fodder.
Last edited:
04 - I Put on my Robe & Wizard Hat
Riddle78
Reality nibbler.
- Location
- CFB Middle of Nowhere on the Trans-Can
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter IV - I Put on my Robe & Wizard Hat
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter IV - I Put on my Robe & Wizard Hat
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Township of Helgen,Falkreath Hold,Skyrim,Mede Empire,Tamriel
Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
0945 hours,local time
Undertale has taken me. Send help!
Approaching the cage,you note that the prisoner has pale grey-blue skin,the hallmark of any Dunmer. Holding the padlock in your hand,you lift the bottom to look at the keyhole; Pretty big,all things considered. Holding the lock awkwardly between a couple of fingers in your right hand,out slip one of Hadvar's picks between your right forefinger and thumb,and draw one of your arrows in your left hand,to use to turn the lock... Once you get the tumblers in place. You could already feel your fingers cramping up; This was incredibly awkward,and not to mention,you're a complete novice with zero lockpicking experience.Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
0945 hours,local time
Undertale has taken me. Send help!
Well,no better time to learn.
In theory,all you need to do is get the tumblers to slide home,then turn the lock. In practice,that's easier said than done. Still,this lock was both old,and poorly made. As you slid the pick in and out of the keyhole,you note that there seems to only be one tumbler,which is odd,considering the depth of the lock. Shrugging,you turn the pick,slowly,waiting for resistance. It didn't take long; You met resistance,and you stopped turning the pick. Next,you pushed on the lock with the arrow,turning it. Again,you worked slowly,but in the end,your efforts bore fruit; The lock clicked,and the padlock jumped open in your awkward grip,causing the delicate pick to snap into two pieces with the sudden,violent motion. You slip the arrow back into the quiver while discarding the broken pick,and remove the padlock.
"You know,in hindsight,we probably could've just broken the padlock. It's rusted to shit. A good swing from a battle axe would've done it in,methinks."
Your two cents aside,you swing open the cage,and examine the prisoner more thoroughly. He's a Dunmer,alright; You pulled his hood back,and prised open an eyelid,revealing a crimson eye,as well as the knife-ears of all Races of Mer.
"Sorry,man. But my need outweighs your dignity in death."
That said,you begin to strip the corpse of his robes,fashioned after the old ALMSIVI Tribunal robes,a style more than two hundred years out of fashion. Still,to you,they looked fucking sweet. Though,this gentleman's robes were practically in tatters; Much of the fabric was torn,especially around the cuffs and hems,and within the holes was exposed chainmail. The ornate plates were similarly damaged,bearing countless scratches,dings,and dents.
Still,they were serviceable.
As you stripped the corpse down,a book slid out from the robe; The prisoner obviously smuggled it into their cell. How,you can only assume that he was processed in a hurry by particularly incompetent guards. Picking up the purple tome,the cover was marked with only a Daedric character.
A conjuration book.
You set the book down,and continue to strip the corpse,complete with gauntlets and boots,which is excellent for you. However,as you removed the final boot,you realized something. You need something to stick all of this in. You looked over your shoulder,and spotted a backpack,leaning against a pillar in the middle of the room,atop a table. You leave the cage,and pluck up the bag. Peeking in,you spot a tiny,one-sip phial,painted a bright red,as well as four more lockpicks. You stick the remaining lockpicks that Hadvar gave you into the bag,and return to the cage,folding up the robe and hood before putting them into the bag,followed by the boots and gauntlets. You threw the spellbook into the bag,as well,reasoning that you don't have the time to change outfits or learn magic,at the moment. Not with Alduin threatening to collapse the keep on top of you.
Throwing on the backpack,you look into the torturer's "office",and spot a staff leaning in the corner; You pluck it up,and give it a twirl; The gnarled wooden pole had a large,opalescent orb at one end,which you remember as a restoration staff. Removing the backpack,you slip the staff into a loop on the side of the bag,and tighten it,securing the staff. Satisfied,you don the backpack once more,and leave the "office",plucking up another pair of lockpicks along the way,casually slipping them into your bag over your shoulder.
Really,you looked like a woodsman,at this point.
"Alright,let's get moving,people!"
Everyone nodded,and proceeded into the cell block,with Hadvar taking point; He said something about a natural tunnel ahead,which the garrison co-opted as an emergency exit. Pretty clever.
You take up the rear of the party,and follow them into a large,natural chamber,broken up by a shallow stream,as well as man-mad stone platforms. Just like the torture chamber before it,this room was also strewn with corpses,of both sides. You shake your head,and muse aloud,
"Just who the fuck is running your armies!? Why are they throwing their lives away in a time like this!? It's insanity!"
Ralof and Hadvar glance at you over their shoulders; Hadvar simply shrugged,while Ralof threw you a venomous glare.
"I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand honour,renegade."
You snort.
"Honour's for duels. In war,it gets you killed for no good reason."
Ralof growled,but turned back forward.
You reach the end of the chamber,and see an Imperial soldier,dead,and with his arms wrapped around a large lever built into the floor. His mode of death was obviously the arrow,protruding from his eye socket. You looked behind you,and noticed a trio of unrecognisable corpses,near the shattered remains of a clay lantern,all lying in a scorched pit.
"If I had to hazard a guess... This drops the bridge."
Hadvar nodded,and threw the lever,prompting the drawbridge to drop with a crash. But,it didn't mask the sound of Alduin roaring once more,far above. You heard a thump,and the chamber began to quake.
"RUN!"
You broke into a sprint,taking the lead,with Hadvar and Ralof hot on your heels. Just as the three of you reached the far side of the bridge,you heard the thunder of a cave-in,followed almost instantly by the cacophony of the cave-in striking the bridge.
The three of you turn around,and are greeted by nothing more than a wall of dust and boulders. The other two Stormcloaks were either caught on the other side,or buries under countless tonnes of rubble. Either way,they were dead,and they didn't even have time to scream. You looked at Ralof,and noticed him trembling.
"Come on. There'll be time to grieve when we're not in danger of suffering the same fate."
Ralof,for once,didn't have any venom for you. He simply nodded,turned,and marched deeper into the caverns,with you and Hadvar following suit,sharing a shrug as you did so. The three of you followed the stream,against the current,and discovered a partial skeleton at the turn,with a coinpurse sitting on a rock shelf,at neck level. You grab the coinpurse,and slip it into your backpack; You'll count it later,but it's always handy to have money.
The three of you approach the next chamber,and the first thing you notice is web,everywhere. The second thing you notice is the half-dozen man-sized spiders approaching the party. As Hadvar and Ralof advance to meet the spiders,you decide on your course of action...
Pick One.
[] Cut & run. Write-in which direction.
[] Bow support. Requires unhitching from shoulder.
[] Staff support. Requires fishing the staff out of its loop.
[] Wade in,sword swinging. Requires digging out the spellbook,reading it,then casting the spell.
[] Backstabber. Write-in who,and method.
[] Bare knuckle bug stomping.
[] Write-in alternative.
Also
Discard items?
-[] Yes. Write-in what.
-[] No.
-Roughspun Tunic: One. Equipped. Well-fitted.
-Roughspun Trousers: One pair. Equipped. Well-fitted.
-Footwraps: One pair. Equipped. Well-fitted.
-Imperial Gambeson: One. Equipped. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Leather Waist Belt: One. Equipped. One size fits all.
-Leather Quiver: One. Equipped. Contains thirty-two arrows.
-Iron-Tipped Arrows: Thirty-two. Quivered. Broadheads.
-Simple Longbow: One. Equipped. Hitched on shoulder.
-Leather Backpack: One. Equipped. One size fits all.
-Weak Health Potion; Domestic: Two. Upside-down on belt.
-Weak Stamina Potion; Domestic: One. Upside-down on belt.
-Weak Magicka Potion; Domestic: One. Upside-down on belt.
-Weak Health Potion; Combat: One. Backpacked.
-Lockpick: Twelve. Backpacked.
-Ragged Blue Dunmer Robe; Mailed: One. Backpacked. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Ragged Blue Dunmer Hood; Mailed: One. Backpacked. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Ragged Blue Dunmer Gloves; Mailed: One pair. Backpacked. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Ragged Blue Dunmer Boots; Mailed: One pair. Backpacked. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Spell Tome - Bound Sword: One. Backpacked. Spell not learned.
-Staff of Recovery: One. Backpacked. Can be used as a quarterstaff.
-Roughspun Trousers: One pair. Equipped. Well-fitted.
-Footwraps: One pair. Equipped. Well-fitted.
-Imperial Gambeson: One. Equipped. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Leather Waist Belt: One. Equipped. One size fits all.
-Leather Quiver: One. Equipped. Contains thirty-two arrows.
-Iron-Tipped Arrows: Thirty-two. Quivered. Broadheads.
-Simple Longbow: One. Equipped. Hitched on shoulder.
-Leather Backpack: One. Equipped. One size fits all.
-Weak Health Potion; Domestic: Two. Upside-down on belt.
-Weak Stamina Potion; Domestic: One. Upside-down on belt.
-Weak Magicka Potion; Domestic: One. Upside-down on belt.
-Weak Health Potion; Combat: One. Backpacked.
-Lockpick: Twelve. Backpacked.
-Ragged Blue Dunmer Robe; Mailed: One. Backpacked. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Ragged Blue Dunmer Hood; Mailed: One. Backpacked. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Ragged Blue Dunmer Gloves; Mailed: One pair. Backpacked. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Ragged Blue Dunmer Boots; Mailed: One pair. Backpacked. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Spell Tome - Bound Sword: One. Backpacked. Spell not learned.
-Staff of Recovery: One. Backpacked. Can be used as a quarterstaff.
Unknown.
-Quest - Unbound: In progress. Objective: Escape Helgen.
-Quest - Lucid Dreaming: In progress. Objective: Ride it out.
-Quest - Peacemaker: In progress. Objective: Keep Ralof and Hadvar from killing eachother,or you.
-Quest - Lucid Dreaming: In progress. Objective: Ride it out.
-Quest - Peacemaker: In progress. Objective: Keep Ralof and Hadvar from killing eachother,or you.
Unknown.
-Steven Ridley: Lightly armoured longbowman & hoarder. Unaffiliated. De facto leader.
-Hadvar: Heavily armoured swordsman. Imperial. Guide.
-Ralof: Heavily armoured axeman. Stormcloak. Muscle.
-Female Stormcloak: KIA.
-Male Stormcloak: KIA.
-Hadvar: Heavily armoured swordsman. Imperial. Guide.
-Ralof: Heavily armoured axeman. Stormcloak. Muscle.
-Female Stormcloak: KIA.
-Male Stormcloak: KIA.
Also,wanna know how our robes look?
Last edited:
05 - Spiders Shouldn't be Bears!
Riddle78
Reality nibbler.
- Location
- CFB Middle of Nowhere on the Trans-Can
(Sorry for the wait. Distractions,combined with my writing mojo fucking off for a few hours threw me off.)
Unsurprisingly,the arrow missed. The missile landed just short of the juvenile spider,though it got the thing's attention; The creature turned to behold you,then began to skitter towards you.
And so,you nocked a second arrow,and repeated the process. The spider was getting pretty close by the time you loosed the arrow,this time actually landing a hit on the creature,puncturing,and subsequently bursting,one of its tiny eyes. The creature fell dead,as you have no doubt the thing's brain was also skewered; The arrow was buried to the fletchings in the giant arachnid's face. Thanking your stars for that lucky shot,you drew a third arrow,and picked a new target; A larger spider that was trying to overpower Hadvar,though he kept it from ever actually mounting him. Again,you nocked and drew the arrow back,all while lifting the bow to point at the target. You loosed your arrow...
And watched the broadhead bounce off the side of the monstrous spider's head.
Right. Chitin armour. Broadheads do not penetrate armour very well...
However,your shot still succeeded in distracting the beast; For the barest of moments,it stopped,and seemed like it was about to turn to you when Hadvar rammed his swrord,right up to the pommel,into the thing's mouth,and gave it a savage twist and jerk. Ralof moved onto the third spider,which was now moving forward to replace the larger one. Leaving Hadvar to deal with the juvenile spider,you turn your attention to Ralof,who was using his handaxe to keep three spiders of his own at bay; He already hacked off one of the forelimbs of the larger one,and his constant sweeps kept the things honest.
You decided to target the large spider he was dealing with,considering it was the only target you had with a clean shot at the face for.
So,your target picked,you nocked and drew back your fourth arrow. Just as you reached your power stroke,you called out,
"Ralof! Step left!"
The man obeyed,and took a step left,and you loosed your arrow. The missile struck the spider in the face,glancing off of a chitin plate around one of the eyes,causing the missile to deflect into the precious organ. The giant beast screeched as it reeled back in agony; The deflection robbed the arrow of most of its energy,meaning it didn't penetrate into the brain cavity. However,the spider was disabled for long enough to allow Ralof to kill the other two spiders in what you could only describe as a woodcutter's ballet; He turned his sidestep to the left into a vicious vertical chop into the small spider on that side,practically splitting the thing's front end in two. He continued the step,turning on his toe while extricating his axe,and slammed the weapon into the side of the head of the second small spider,which took the chance to leap for his exposed back.
The spider's corpse slammed into the cave wall with a wet thwack.
Ralof turned to square off against the large spider once more,just as it advanced on him,having recovered from the shock of getting an eye burst. The thing's movements were unsteady; It was obvious that it was close to death. Ralof knew this,too,so he pressed his advantage; He rushed into the thing's personal space,batting aside the spider's strike with its one remaining forelimb with his handaxe. As the spider leaned forward to deliver a bite,the Stormcloak juked to the side,and leapt up onto the thing's head. The sudden weight floored the spider,though it started to get back up.
Ralof didn't give it the chance.
He wheeled back around,dropped to a knee,and began to savagely hack away at the top of the spider's head with his axe. The sound of cracking chitin filled the cave alongside Ralof's sounds of exertion,and after the third strike,the handaxe struck soft tissue,and buried itself in the animal's brainpan with a squelch and spray of ichor. The spider dropped once more,this time dead like its brood,and Ralof pulled his axe from the thing's head.
The three of you exchange glances,and press on; The longer you spend in the caves,the greater the likelihood of Alduin dropping the keep,and thus the cave,down on your heads.
The next chamber was larger than even the spider den. A little stream ran through the chamber,likely the same one that you passed through earlier. Nearby was an abandoned cart,its cargo of wine scattered about,many of the bottles smashed. As the three of you draw up to the cart,though,a large shape up ahead,which you initially mistook for a boulder,moved. Both Hadvar and Ralof stopped,and motioned for you to do the same.
I should've remembered that fucking bear...
Ralof was the one to break the situation down.
"I don't think any of us are in the mood to fight a cave bear... I'm thinking we could sneak by."
Hadvar nodded in ascent.
"It does seem like the best idea... Though Numinex here does have a bow. Maybe if we take her by surprise..."
Hadvar left the sentence hanging; We all knew what he was getting at. The both of them looked at you,seeing as you had the ability to reach out and touch the bear; You had executive power,here. The problem is... It's a fucking bear. How the fuck can a human sneak past a wild animal? And it's a fucking bear. The only things tankier in nature were rhinos!
Though,in the game,that particular bear seems to be both incredibly weak,and its senses seem to be completely shot...
Pick One.
[] Shoot the bear.
[] Sneak past the bear.
[] Alternative plan,write-in what.
Also.
Discard items?
-[] Yes; Write-in what.
-[] No.
Finally.
Standing combat initiation plan?
--[] Yes; Write-in what.
--[] No; Construct new initiation plans on the fly,per engagement.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter V - Spiders Shouldn't be Bears!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter V - Spiders Shouldn't be Bears!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Township of Helgen,Falkreath Hold,Skyrim,Mede Empire,Tamriel
Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
0950 hours,local time
As Hadvar and Ralof engaged the spiders,you made your choice. With a shrug of one shoulder,you allow the bow to slide off of it and into your waiting hand. Bringing the wooden weapon up,your left hand drifts to your quiver,and fished out a broadheaded arrow,and you selected your target; One of the smaller spiders of the bunch,trying to flank around Hadvar. You nocked the arrow,then began to draw the string back. You could already tell that doing this too much will leave you with a very sore arm. As you drew the arrow back,you raised the bow,to point the arrow at the spider. Just as you pointed the bow at the spider,you reached full draw,so you released the arrow,with the recoil forces pulling your arm,and thus your upper torso,forward and down. You knew this would happen,but you still let it surprise you. And archer,you are not.Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
0950 hours,local time
Unsurprisingly,the arrow missed. The missile landed just short of the juvenile spider,though it got the thing's attention; The creature turned to behold you,then began to skitter towards you.
And so,you nocked a second arrow,and repeated the process. The spider was getting pretty close by the time you loosed the arrow,this time actually landing a hit on the creature,puncturing,and subsequently bursting,one of its tiny eyes. The creature fell dead,as you have no doubt the thing's brain was also skewered; The arrow was buried to the fletchings in the giant arachnid's face. Thanking your stars for that lucky shot,you drew a third arrow,and picked a new target; A larger spider that was trying to overpower Hadvar,though he kept it from ever actually mounting him. Again,you nocked and drew the arrow back,all while lifting the bow to point at the target. You loosed your arrow...
And watched the broadhead bounce off the side of the monstrous spider's head.
Right. Chitin armour. Broadheads do not penetrate armour very well...
However,your shot still succeeded in distracting the beast; For the barest of moments,it stopped,and seemed like it was about to turn to you when Hadvar rammed his swrord,right up to the pommel,into the thing's mouth,and gave it a savage twist and jerk. Ralof moved onto the third spider,which was now moving forward to replace the larger one. Leaving Hadvar to deal with the juvenile spider,you turn your attention to Ralof,who was using his handaxe to keep three spiders of his own at bay; He already hacked off one of the forelimbs of the larger one,and his constant sweeps kept the things honest.
You decided to target the large spider he was dealing with,considering it was the only target you had with a clean shot at the face for.
So,your target picked,you nocked and drew back your fourth arrow. Just as you reached your power stroke,you called out,
"Ralof! Step left!"
The man obeyed,and took a step left,and you loosed your arrow. The missile struck the spider in the face,glancing off of a chitin plate around one of the eyes,causing the missile to deflect into the precious organ. The giant beast screeched as it reeled back in agony; The deflection robbed the arrow of most of its energy,meaning it didn't penetrate into the brain cavity. However,the spider was disabled for long enough to allow Ralof to kill the other two spiders in what you could only describe as a woodcutter's ballet; He turned his sidestep to the left into a vicious vertical chop into the small spider on that side,practically splitting the thing's front end in two. He continued the step,turning on his toe while extricating his axe,and slammed the weapon into the side of the head of the second small spider,which took the chance to leap for his exposed back.
The spider's corpse slammed into the cave wall with a wet thwack.
Ralof turned to square off against the large spider once more,just as it advanced on him,having recovered from the shock of getting an eye burst. The thing's movements were unsteady; It was obvious that it was close to death. Ralof knew this,too,so he pressed his advantage; He rushed into the thing's personal space,batting aside the spider's strike with its one remaining forelimb with his handaxe. As the spider leaned forward to deliver a bite,the Stormcloak juked to the side,and leapt up onto the thing's head. The sudden weight floored the spider,though it started to get back up.
Ralof didn't give it the chance.
He wheeled back around,dropped to a knee,and began to savagely hack away at the top of the spider's head with his axe. The sound of cracking chitin filled the cave alongside Ralof's sounds of exertion,and after the third strike,the handaxe struck soft tissue,and buried itself in the animal's brainpan with a squelch and spray of ichor. The spider dropped once more,this time dead like its brood,and Ralof pulled his axe from the thing's head.
The three of you exchange glances,and press on; The longer you spend in the caves,the greater the likelihood of Alduin dropping the keep,and thus the cave,down on your heads.
The next chamber was larger than even the spider den. A little stream ran through the chamber,likely the same one that you passed through earlier. Nearby was an abandoned cart,its cargo of wine scattered about,many of the bottles smashed. As the three of you draw up to the cart,though,a large shape up ahead,which you initially mistook for a boulder,moved. Both Hadvar and Ralof stopped,and motioned for you to do the same.
I should've remembered that fucking bear...
Ralof was the one to break the situation down.
"I don't think any of us are in the mood to fight a cave bear... I'm thinking we could sneak by."
Hadvar nodded in ascent.
"It does seem like the best idea... Though Numinex here does have a bow. Maybe if we take her by surprise..."
Hadvar left the sentence hanging; We all knew what he was getting at. The both of them looked at you,seeing as you had the ability to reach out and touch the bear; You had executive power,here. The problem is... It's a fucking bear. How the fuck can a human sneak past a wild animal? And it's a fucking bear. The only things tankier in nature were rhinos!
Though,in the game,that particular bear seems to be both incredibly weak,and its senses seem to be completely shot...
Pick One.
[] Shoot the bear.
[] Sneak past the bear.
[] Alternative plan,write-in what.
Also.
Discard items?
-[] Yes; Write-in what.
-[] No.
Finally.
Standing combat initiation plan?
--[] Yes; Write-in what.
--[] No; Construct new initiation plans on the fly,per engagement.
-Roughspun Tunic: One. Equipped. Well-fitted.
-Roughspun Trousers: One pair. Equipped. Well-fitted.
-Footwraps: One pair. Equipped. Well-fitted.
-Imperial Gambeson: One. Equipped. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Leather Waist Belt: One. Equipped. One size fits all.
-Leather Quiver: One. Equipped. Contains twenty-eight arrows.
-Iron-Tipped Arrows: Twenty-eight. Quivered. Broadheads.
-Simple Longbow: One. Equipped. In hand.
-Leather Backpack: One. Equipped. One size fits all.
-Weak Health Potion; Domestic: Two. Upside-down on belt.
-Weak Stamina Potion; Domestic: One. Upside-down on belt.
-Weak Magicka Potion; Domestic: One. Upside-down on belt.
-Weak Health Potion; Combat: One. Backpacked.
-Lockpick: Twelve. Backpacked.
-Ragged Blue Dunmer Robe; Mailed: One. Backpacked. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Ragged Blue Dunmer Hood; Mailed: One. Backpacked. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Ragged Blue Dunmer Gloves; Mailed: One pair. Backpacked. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Ragged Blue Dunmer Boots; Mailed: One pair. Backpacked. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Spell Tome - Bound Sword: One. Backpacked. Spell not learned.
-Staff of Recovery: One. Backpacked. Can be used as a quarterstaff.
-Roughspun Trousers: One pair. Equipped. Well-fitted.
-Footwraps: One pair. Equipped. Well-fitted.
-Imperial Gambeson: One. Equipped. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Leather Waist Belt: One. Equipped. One size fits all.
-Leather Quiver: One. Equipped. Contains twenty-eight arrows.
-Iron-Tipped Arrows: Twenty-eight. Quivered. Broadheads.
-Simple Longbow: One. Equipped. In hand.
-Leather Backpack: One. Equipped. One size fits all.
-Weak Health Potion; Domestic: Two. Upside-down on belt.
-Weak Stamina Potion; Domestic: One. Upside-down on belt.
-Weak Magicka Potion; Domestic: One. Upside-down on belt.
-Weak Health Potion; Combat: One. Backpacked.
-Lockpick: Twelve. Backpacked.
-Ragged Blue Dunmer Robe; Mailed: One. Backpacked. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Ragged Blue Dunmer Hood; Mailed: One. Backpacked. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Ragged Blue Dunmer Gloves; Mailed: One pair. Backpacked. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Ragged Blue Dunmer Boots; Mailed: One pair. Backpacked. Light armour. Ill-fitting; Too large.
-Spell Tome - Bound Sword: One. Backpacked. Spell not learned.
-Staff of Recovery: One. Backpacked. Can be used as a quarterstaff.
Unknown.
-Quest - Unbound: In progress. Objective: Escape Helgen.
-Quest - Lucid Dreaming: In progress. Objective: Ride it out.
-Quest - Peacemaker: In progress. Objective: Keep Ralof and Hadvar from killing eachother,or you.
-Quest - Lucid Dreaming: In progress. Objective: Ride it out.
-Quest - Peacemaker: In progress. Objective: Keep Ralof and Hadvar from killing eachother,or you.
Unknown.
-Steven Ridley: Lightly armoured longbowman & hoarder. Unaffiliated. De facto leader.
-Hadvar: Heavily armoured swordsman. Imperial. Guide.
-Ralof: Heavily armoured axeman. Stormcloak. Muscle.
-Hadvar: Heavily armoured swordsman. Imperial. Guide.
-Ralof: Heavily armoured axeman. Stormcloak. Muscle.
Last edited:
06 - A Breath of Fresh Air
Riddle78
Reality nibbler.
- Location
- CFB Middle of Nowhere on the Trans-Can
(More than one year hence,Season Unending returns! Rejoice,for the Dovahkiin will be a STUPENDOUS GRUMP!)
You nod your head,as you come up with a plan. While your depth perception was shit,you know you're able to at least hit a nearby target. You flex your fingers on the longbow's grip,and said,in hushed tones,
"Alright,I doubt we'd be able to sneak by a wild animal,at this range. If we try that,and get caught,we wouldn't be in a position to kill it; We'd be stuck trying,and failing,to outrun a bear."
Ralof nodded.
"True. You're not exactly the strongest man in our group."
You nod to that.
"I wasn't under any illusions to the contrary. But. I'm also a shit shot; Dunno if you've noticed,but I'm new to this whole archery thing. At this range,even if I hit,it won't be fatal. I don't know where any of a bear's vital organs are,besides the brain."
Hadvar cottoned on in a hurry.
"You want us to draw it to you."
"What!? But that's just as bad as trying to sneak past!"
You cut in.
"Not quite. With my plan,I'll be ready with a shot for its face. At a close enough range,I should be able to get it in the thing's nose,mouth,or eye. And a longbow's got all kinds of power behind it; Broadheads or not,such a shot'll be fatal."
Ralof made a noise of unease,
"Quite the gamble..."
"If I don't kill it with the shot,I'll sure as shit put it on death's door. But,if that's the case,do what you can to preserve the pelt. I have plans."
Ralof snorted.
"What makes you think you'd get the pelt?"
"Who has the bag?"
Ralof looked like he was about to respond,but he caught himself,then scowled at you in silence. Hadvar,however,asked the important question,
"Do you even know how to skin it?"
"A... Bit. I think. Slit the throat,down the belly,around the limb joints. Yeah?"
"Close enough. So. How do you want us to draw it in?"
You start gesturing with an arrow.
"It's in the light,so its nightvision's shot. If you approach,you won't be able to disengage. So,stay close,and throw rocks at it. That should piss it off enough to come charging at us. Once it starts coming this way,make noise,so it'll come in a straight-ish line. Once it gets close enough,I'll fire,with a shout. If it's still charging after that,engage. Obviously,you should have your weapons drawn during this entire time."
You bring the arrow to the bowstring,but don't draw.
"That's what I got. Input?"
Hadvar nodded.
"Considering what we have? It's the best we've got."
"What about your staff,and spellbook?"
You shake your head.
"The staff's got a Restoration spell in it,and the book's for Conjuration,and we don't have enough time to read that thing through,right now."
"But we have enough time to skin a bear?"
"Reading this book'll take hours. Skinning that bear'll take minutes. I don't know if this book'll let me conjure an Atronach,or a sword. I know that bear's ass will make an excellent cloak. See where I'm coming from,here?"
"Fine. We'll do this your way,renegade."
"Good. Hop to."
Ralof rolled his eyes,and took a few steps forward with Hadvar. After a few moments,the two of them started chucking rocks at the bear. It didn't take long for the thing to get up,and growl in annoyance. It started to wander off towards the exit,but a well-placed stone from Ralof had it wheel around to face the source. It started to lumber towards them,and Hadvar started to shout at it,
"Come here,you misbegotten spawn of Malacath and Kynareth!"
The insult was thoroughly unneeded; The bear can't understand English,or,rather,Cyrodiilic. The rock that Hadvar hit it in the face with,however,was precisely what we needed. The lumbering beast began to charge your way,prompting you to draw the string back. Even in the second it took you to do that,the bear was over halfway to your position; Bears are staggeringly fast animals,especially for their size.
By now,Hadvar and Ralof were in their guard stances,but they were still hollering at the bear. You held the arrow back for only a couple more moments,before loosing it.
"ARROW AWAY!"
The arrow slammed home before you could finish the first syllable. By the time you finished your declaration,the bear lay motionless on the cave floor,a pool of blood forming beneath its head.
You explosively exhale the breath you didn't know you were holding.
The three of you approach the corpse,and you examine your handiwork. The arrow was buried to the fletchings in the bear's left nostril; That would explain why it died instantly. The arrow probably impaled the brain. However,the thing's face was... Unpleasant. Scarring was everywhere,and pus was forming in several places,including the left nostril and eye; It was obvious that this bear was suffering from an advanced infection.
Good thing you didn't need the meat,or anything from the face.
In hindsight,you guess that this is also the reason why you're able to sneak by it in the game; The thing was just too ill to care,if it wasn't being directly threatened.
"Alright,boys. Let's get to work."
Ralof was incredulous.
"Your kill,your dress,renegade."
"At any moment,this cave could collapse on top of us. Many hands make light work,a maxim I'm certain you're familiar with,considering how many Stormcloaks are Legion veterans."
"What do I get out of it?"
"The claws make for great stamina potions; You can take those to the nearest apothecary. Worth more than their weight in gold. Take it,or leave it."
Ralof growled,but leaned down to grab one of the bear's limbs. You and Hadvar do the same,and you flip the bear. Between the three of you,you have the bear skinned,a little roughly,and Ralof extracted his claws for his potions,in a matter of minutes. You take the pelt,and fold it up,but don't put it in your bag; The skin's still covered in gore,and like Hell you're going to let that get all over the shit you plan on actually keeping as is for the foreseeable future.
Ralof looked at you in confusion.
"You're not going to put that in your bag?"
"And get blood all over my stuff? You think I'm an idiot,idiot?"
Ralof pocketed his bear claws,and growled at you,menacingly,
"I've had about enough of your lip,renegade. Show me some respect,or I'll end you."
"I'll show you some respect when you do something to actually fucking earn it. You're a great fighter,but you're obviously a fucking moron,because you ask the most fucking asinine questions imaginable! It's almost as if you want me to be snide with you!"
Ralof growled,and took a step forward,but Hadvar spoke up before anything came of it,
"Enough! Both of you! We went this far without killing eachother,so we can last a few more minutes! The exit's not far from here. Come on,I'll take point."
Nice save,Hadvar.
You all march in silence down the cave; 'Round the bend,downhill a ways,and after one final corner,you could see light up ahead.
The three of you step out into the outside world,though your relief was short lived,as Alduin soared overhead,roaring in... It sounded like disappointment.
"Wait!"
Hadvar took cover behind a nearby boulder,while you and Ralof pressed yourselves against the mouth of the cave. After a few moments,Alduin was nowhere to be seen... Or heard. Knowing him,he's either up atop the Throat of the World,or making his way to Sovngarde. You and Ralof separate yourselves from the rock,and approach Hadvar.
"Looks like he's gone for good,this time. But I don't feel like waiting around to see if he comes back..."
You nod,and Ralof chimes in,
"Neither would I,and one person can cover ground faster than two. We can't be allowed to be seen together,Imperial. Here,we part ways."
You add,
"One of you has to stay behind,then,at least for a few hours. I'll stay behind,to keep them company,then set out with them. You two figure it out; I need to go change."
The two Nords nod in agreement,and begin discussing,while you slip back into the cave for some privacy.
Right now? You look like an escaped con. And,by all rights,you are an escaped con. But,the people of Skyrim don't need to hear that,so you set down your bear ass,then take off you bag.
The gambeson's covered in Imperial Legion iconography; I'll just make you a target,if you keep it. You strip it off,and toss it deeper into the cave. Your tunic lacks sleeves,and full of holes,so it's absolutely worthless,in Skyrim. Off it comes,and into the cave's depths it goes. Openning the bag,you extract the armoured Dunmer robes,and take a moment to admire the craftsmanship,damaged as it is. You don them,quickly identifying all the straps and fasteners to make it work,and attach the separate hood to the mantle,and pull it over your head. As the robes lack pants,you elect to keep your roughspun trousers; Nobody'll see them,and they'll do their job at keeping your legs protected from some of the elements. Your footwraps,though? They can go. You peel them off,and chuck them into the cave,then put on the robe's matching boots.
Finishing with the buckles,you note that the robes feel loose in the shoulders and chest,and the boots are too big. You'll need to get them all fitted properly,if you plan on keeping them for any length of time.
Properly clothed,you put your backpack back on,hitch your bow back to your shoulder,and pick up your bearskin,before heading back outside.
Pick One.
Whoever goes on ahead will need several hours. Whoever we choose is the one we stay with for this period.
[] Hadvar.
[] Ralof.
Pick One.
Of course,how long we,ourselves,stay behind,is another matter,entirely.
[] Stay with him.
[] Strike out on your own.
[] Split up after head start.
Inventory Management.
Our inventory needs to be managed carefully. Your choices are as follows.
[] Inventory's good.
[] Discard items; Write-in what.
[] Unequip items; Write-in what.
[] Equip items; Write in what,and where. THE PLAYER CHARACTER IS LEFT HANDED.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter VI - A Breath of Fresh Air
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter VI - A Breath of Fresh Air
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Township of Helgen,Falkreath Hold,Skyrim,Mede Empire,Tamriel
Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
1000 hours,local time
Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
1000 hours,local time
You nod your head,as you come up with a plan. While your depth perception was shit,you know you're able to at least hit a nearby target. You flex your fingers on the longbow's grip,and said,in hushed tones,
"Alright,I doubt we'd be able to sneak by a wild animal,at this range. If we try that,and get caught,we wouldn't be in a position to kill it; We'd be stuck trying,and failing,to outrun a bear."
Ralof nodded.
"True. You're not exactly the strongest man in our group."
You nod to that.
"I wasn't under any illusions to the contrary. But. I'm also a shit shot; Dunno if you've noticed,but I'm new to this whole archery thing. At this range,even if I hit,it won't be fatal. I don't know where any of a bear's vital organs are,besides the brain."
Hadvar cottoned on in a hurry.
"You want us to draw it to you."
"What!? But that's just as bad as trying to sneak past!"
You cut in.
"Not quite. With my plan,I'll be ready with a shot for its face. At a close enough range,I should be able to get it in the thing's nose,mouth,or eye. And a longbow's got all kinds of power behind it; Broadheads or not,such a shot'll be fatal."
Ralof made a noise of unease,
"Quite the gamble..."
"If I don't kill it with the shot,I'll sure as shit put it on death's door. But,if that's the case,do what you can to preserve the pelt. I have plans."
Ralof snorted.
"What makes you think you'd get the pelt?"
"Who has the bag?"
Ralof looked like he was about to respond,but he caught himself,then scowled at you in silence. Hadvar,however,asked the important question,
"Do you even know how to skin it?"
"A... Bit. I think. Slit the throat,down the belly,around the limb joints. Yeah?"
"Close enough. So. How do you want us to draw it in?"
You start gesturing with an arrow.
"It's in the light,so its nightvision's shot. If you approach,you won't be able to disengage. So,stay close,and throw rocks at it. That should piss it off enough to come charging at us. Once it starts coming this way,make noise,so it'll come in a straight-ish line. Once it gets close enough,I'll fire,with a shout. If it's still charging after that,engage. Obviously,you should have your weapons drawn during this entire time."
You bring the arrow to the bowstring,but don't draw.
"That's what I got. Input?"
Hadvar nodded.
"Considering what we have? It's the best we've got."
"What about your staff,and spellbook?"
You shake your head.
"The staff's got a Restoration spell in it,and the book's for Conjuration,and we don't have enough time to read that thing through,right now."
"But we have enough time to skin a bear?"
"Reading this book'll take hours. Skinning that bear'll take minutes. I don't know if this book'll let me conjure an Atronach,or a sword. I know that bear's ass will make an excellent cloak. See where I'm coming from,here?"
"Fine. We'll do this your way,renegade."
"Good. Hop to."
Ralof rolled his eyes,and took a few steps forward with Hadvar. After a few moments,the two of them started chucking rocks at the bear. It didn't take long for the thing to get up,and growl in annoyance. It started to wander off towards the exit,but a well-placed stone from Ralof had it wheel around to face the source. It started to lumber towards them,and Hadvar started to shout at it,
"Come here,you misbegotten spawn of Malacath and Kynareth!"
The insult was thoroughly unneeded; The bear can't understand English,or,rather,Cyrodiilic. The rock that Hadvar hit it in the face with,however,was precisely what we needed. The lumbering beast began to charge your way,prompting you to draw the string back. Even in the second it took you to do that,the bear was over halfway to your position; Bears are staggeringly fast animals,especially for their size.
By now,Hadvar and Ralof were in their guard stances,but they were still hollering at the bear. You held the arrow back for only a couple more moments,before loosing it.
"ARROW AWAY!"
The arrow slammed home before you could finish the first syllable. By the time you finished your declaration,the bear lay motionless on the cave floor,a pool of blood forming beneath its head.
You explosively exhale the breath you didn't know you were holding.
The three of you approach the corpse,and you examine your handiwork. The arrow was buried to the fletchings in the bear's left nostril; That would explain why it died instantly. The arrow probably impaled the brain. However,the thing's face was... Unpleasant. Scarring was everywhere,and pus was forming in several places,including the left nostril and eye; It was obvious that this bear was suffering from an advanced infection.
Good thing you didn't need the meat,or anything from the face.
In hindsight,you guess that this is also the reason why you're able to sneak by it in the game; The thing was just too ill to care,if it wasn't being directly threatened.
"Alright,boys. Let's get to work."
Ralof was incredulous.
"Your kill,your dress,renegade."
"At any moment,this cave could collapse on top of us. Many hands make light work,a maxim I'm certain you're familiar with,considering how many Stormcloaks are Legion veterans."
"What do I get out of it?"
"The claws make for great stamina potions; You can take those to the nearest apothecary. Worth more than their weight in gold. Take it,or leave it."
Ralof growled,but leaned down to grab one of the bear's limbs. You and Hadvar do the same,and you flip the bear. Between the three of you,you have the bear skinned,a little roughly,and Ralof extracted his claws for his potions,in a matter of minutes. You take the pelt,and fold it up,but don't put it in your bag; The skin's still covered in gore,and like Hell you're going to let that get all over the shit you plan on actually keeping as is for the foreseeable future.
Ralof looked at you in confusion.
"You're not going to put that in your bag?"
"And get blood all over my stuff? You think I'm an idiot,idiot?"
Ralof pocketed his bear claws,and growled at you,menacingly,
"I've had about enough of your lip,renegade. Show me some respect,or I'll end you."
"I'll show you some respect when you do something to actually fucking earn it. You're a great fighter,but you're obviously a fucking moron,because you ask the most fucking asinine questions imaginable! It's almost as if you want me to be snide with you!"
Ralof growled,and took a step forward,but Hadvar spoke up before anything came of it,
"Enough! Both of you! We went this far without killing eachother,so we can last a few more minutes! The exit's not far from here. Come on,I'll take point."
Nice save,Hadvar.
You all march in silence down the cave; 'Round the bend,downhill a ways,and after one final corner,you could see light up ahead.
The three of you step out into the outside world,though your relief was short lived,as Alduin soared overhead,roaring in... It sounded like disappointment.
"Wait!"
Hadvar took cover behind a nearby boulder,while you and Ralof pressed yourselves against the mouth of the cave. After a few moments,Alduin was nowhere to be seen... Or heard. Knowing him,he's either up atop the Throat of the World,or making his way to Sovngarde. You and Ralof separate yourselves from the rock,and approach Hadvar.
"Looks like he's gone for good,this time. But I don't feel like waiting around to see if he comes back..."
You nod,and Ralof chimes in,
"Neither would I,and one person can cover ground faster than two. We can't be allowed to be seen together,Imperial. Here,we part ways."
You add,
"One of you has to stay behind,then,at least for a few hours. I'll stay behind,to keep them company,then set out with them. You two figure it out; I need to go change."
The two Nords nod in agreement,and begin discussing,while you slip back into the cave for some privacy.
Right now? You look like an escaped con. And,by all rights,you are an escaped con. But,the people of Skyrim don't need to hear that,so you set down your bear ass,then take off you bag.
The gambeson's covered in Imperial Legion iconography; I'll just make you a target,if you keep it. You strip it off,and toss it deeper into the cave. Your tunic lacks sleeves,and full of holes,so it's absolutely worthless,in Skyrim. Off it comes,and into the cave's depths it goes. Openning the bag,you extract the armoured Dunmer robes,and take a moment to admire the craftsmanship,damaged as it is. You don them,quickly identifying all the straps and fasteners to make it work,and attach the separate hood to the mantle,and pull it over your head. As the robes lack pants,you elect to keep your roughspun trousers; Nobody'll see them,and they'll do their job at keeping your legs protected from some of the elements. Your footwraps,though? They can go. You peel them off,and chuck them into the cave,then put on the robe's matching boots.
Finishing with the buckles,you note that the robes feel loose in the shoulders and chest,and the boots are too big. You'll need to get them all fitted properly,if you plan on keeping them for any length of time.
Properly clothed,you put your backpack back on,hitch your bow back to your shoulder,and pick up your bearskin,before heading back outside.
While I don't have Frostfall installed,this Quest will make use of many of its systems. Skyrim is a harsh place. Thankfully,I'm native to a very similar place on Earth; Canada. Exposure boils down to two things; Temperature,and moisture.
Temperature is what makes sure you're alive or dead. Too hot,you die. Too cold,you also die. Skyrm being what it is,however,death by hypothermia is far more likely,compared to hyperthermia. Some armours and clothes will be better than others at keeping the cold out,and your warmth in. Fur is among the best at this,while most metal armours,and leather,will be far,far worse. In general,just use your head,and you'll understand what'll keep you warm.
Moisture is what will make the temperature matter. How does your body keep itself cool? Vapour cooling. Your body produces sweat,which evaporates,which provides a net negative to your body temperature. If you're wet while out in the cold,then that means the water on your body will get cold,independently of your body,which will then attempt to draw heat from your body to maintain a temperature as close to 21 degrees Celsius as possible. This is,of course,a very bad thing to have happening to you out in the wilds of Skyrim. Typically,metal and leather is fairly waterproof,but furs and fabrics will retain moisture,potentially spelling doom for you. Keep some common sense about you,and you'll understand what's hydrophobic,and what's not.
Of course,it's possible to dry off in the usual ways; Keeping by a fire,hanging stuff up,and the like. There will also exist spells for this,but good luck finding the tomes for them in general stores; Shit like that'll only be in the hands of a specialist. And,of course,the best way to keep dry is to not get wet to begin with...
Every post after this one will have an "Exposure Tracker" at the end of it,to help you keep a handle on this.
Temperature is what makes sure you're alive or dead. Too hot,you die. Too cold,you also die. Skyrm being what it is,however,death by hypothermia is far more likely,compared to hyperthermia. Some armours and clothes will be better than others at keeping the cold out,and your warmth in. Fur is among the best at this,while most metal armours,and leather,will be far,far worse. In general,just use your head,and you'll understand what'll keep you warm.
Moisture is what will make the temperature matter. How does your body keep itself cool? Vapour cooling. Your body produces sweat,which evaporates,which provides a net negative to your body temperature. If you're wet while out in the cold,then that means the water on your body will get cold,independently of your body,which will then attempt to draw heat from your body to maintain a temperature as close to 21 degrees Celsius as possible. This is,of course,a very bad thing to have happening to you out in the wilds of Skyrim. Typically,metal and leather is fairly waterproof,but furs and fabrics will retain moisture,potentially spelling doom for you. Keep some common sense about you,and you'll understand what's hydrophobic,and what's not.
Of course,it's possible to dry off in the usual ways; Keeping by a fire,hanging stuff up,and the like. There will also exist spells for this,but good luck finding the tomes for them in general stores; Shit like that'll only be in the hands of a specialist. And,of course,the best way to keep dry is to not get wet to begin with...
Every post after this one will have an "Exposure Tracker" at the end of it,to help you keep a handle on this.
Pick One.
Whoever goes on ahead will need several hours. Whoever we choose is the one we stay with for this period.
[] Hadvar.
[] Ralof.
Pick One.
Of course,how long we,ourselves,stay behind,is another matter,entirely.
[] Stay with him.
[] Strike out on your own.
[] Split up after head start.
Inventory Management.
Our inventory needs to be managed carefully. Your choices are as follows.
[] Inventory's good.
[] Discard items; Write-in what.
[] Unequip items; Write-in what.
[] Equip items; Write in what,and where. THE PLAYER CHARACTER IS LEFT HANDED.
- Inventory
- Magicka
- Journal
- Skills & Perks
- Party
Last edited:
07 - The Three Guardians
Riddle78
Reality nibbler.
- Location
- CFB Middle of Nowhere on the Trans-Can
(Sorry about the wait; I recently got a job,and work just piled on,for a bit.)
When you finished dicking around with your gauntlets,you noticed Hadvar was standing alone,leaning against the boulder he hid behind while Alduin threw his little tantrum on the way out.
"Ralof went ahead,eh? I guess that's for the best."
Hadvar nodded.
"Yeah. He seemed ready to kill you,back there. You need to learn how to temper your opinions,Ridley."
You shrug,and gesture back into the cave.
"Since Alduin's not threatening to bring the keep down,I think it's safe to wait in the cave,away from the wind,snow,and wildlife. Besides,the brazier in the bear cave keeps us from having to build our own fire."
Hadvar,once again,nodded,and the two of you stepped into the cave.
"You know,you look like a malnourished Altmer,in those robes."
"Eeh. Better than looking like a deserter,or escaped con."
You stepped into the main chamber of the bear's den.
"That is true. Still,my uncle's the blacksmith in Riverwood; I'm sure he'd be able to help set your robes right."
You nod appreciatively.
"The mail,at least. Who in town do you think would be able to do the fabric?"
"I'm sure that Sigrid would be able to do that,provided you don't mind it looking patched up and stitched together from rags."
You raise your eyebrow at Hadvar,and ask,
"What,like it isn't,already?"
Hadvar had a good chuckle at that.
"I guess you're right."
The two of you step past the bear's skinned corpse,and draw up on the abandoned wine wagon.
"I wonder if this fort had issues with alcohol..."
You approach the wagon,and sift through its contents; Bottles of wine,most of which were smashed,a horned iron helmet (Which you immediately ignored; Horns were very bad to have on helmets),and,most importantly,a coinpurse.
"Yoink!"
You pluck up the leather sack,and casually toss it into your bag.
"I don't know if it did,to be honest. Though,judging by this wagon,I guess it might have. Then again,it doesn't exactly matter,anymore."
You nod grimly at that.
"True."
You reach the brazier with Hadvar,and unhitch your bow; Keeping a bow strung up is a bad idea. The constant tension would permanently bend the weapon,taking away the springing flex that allowed the weapon to function,to begin with. So,you pressed the end of the lower limb against the cave floor,and pull the string off of the upper limb,before leaning the now-disassembled weapon against the cave wall,with your backpack swiftly joining it. In a moment,you pull out the purple tome you fished out from the Dunmer's cell,and pulled the staff out from its loop on the bag. Before you leave for Riverwood,you will know what this staff does,and you will know the spell contained within this book.
With the book being the major time sink,you decide to test the staff,first.
"Hey,Hadvar? How clean's your knife?"
"I wiped it off and gave it a dunk in the stream after we skinned the bear. Why do you ask?"
You spun the staff around your left hand,and pointed it at him.
"I wanna see if this thing's got a healing spell on it,rather than a ward."
"So,you want me to cut you open?"
"Just my palm. Lightly,if you would."
Hadvar nodded,and drew his knife,as you set the Conjuration tome down,before offering your right hand,palm up,to Hadvar.
"And if it doesn't have a healing spell?"
"Then you know first aid."
"Right,then."
Hadvar grabbed your hand,and drew the blade across your palm; It stung,but wasn't overly painful. The sensation,however,was tremendously disquieting; It felt,simultaneously,that the cut was dunked in ice,and pressed against a hot lightbulb. When Hadvar released your hand,you noted that the wound was freely bleeding,so,you choke up on the staff in your left hand,and point it at your cut hand.
Nothing happened.
Which,to be honest,you suspected would happen. If all it took to use a staff was a gesture,then they'd be firing off in all directions at all times while in someone's hand. So,you focused on the staff,and thought to yourself an order,directed at the staff,
"Release your magic."
The results were immediate. Resplendent golden light surged from the opalescent knob at the end of the staff,and enveloped your injured hand. The light spilled out to your elbow before stopping,and after a moment,you told the staff to stop. Your hand was still bloodied,but the cut was,quite plainly,gone. Nodding with satisfaction,you run your hand through the fur on your bear pelt to wipe away most of the blood,before sitting down,cross-legged,on the cave floor,your back to the brazier. Tucking the staff into the crook of your armpit,you pick up the Conjuration tome,and open it up.
"Hmm... I wonder if we can tan that hide,while we're here."
You look up at Hadvar,wearing an expression of obvious confusion.
"We have a heat source."
"But,we lack a rack,tools,and materials. Last I checked,you need piss,shit,and brains to properly tan a hide."
Hadvar screwed up his face at that; It's obvious that he was familiar with the stench. And hated it.
"Don't remind me. So,what spell's the book for?"
You shrug.
"Dunno. Didn't get that far,yet. I only just cracked it open,after all. This book'll keep me occupied for a couple of hours; Got anything to occupy your own time?"
Hadvar looked about,eventually resting his gaze on the overturned wagon.
"I think I do."
You nod,and say,
"Sounds good. We'll leave when we both finish up,alright?"
"Assuming it's light out."
You nod,and return to your book; Hadvar walks off towards the wagon.
As you finish the last page of the book,you smile; Normally,you're not one for simple studying. To make something stick,you need to do it,and that's only after setting an objective for yourself; You're something of an autodidact,in that regard. Set a goal,and learn what you need to learn in pursuit of that goal,preferably by actually doing it. So,confident that some form of magic was at work,you smiled to yourself as the pages of the book began to smoulder; In Skyrim,spell tomes destroyed themselves,after teaching their spell. As a small blue flame started to rise from the pages,you cast the tome into the brazier behind you; The book was no longer of any use,and it'd dispose of itself,anyways.
You stand up from your spot on the cave floor,and take a moment to beat the dirt and other debris that's attached itself to your ass and legs. Looking over to where the wagon used to be,you note that it's absent,as well as the intact bottles of wine.
"Hmm. Must've taken it outside to work on it."
You stick your disassembled bow on top of your bag,then close the flap over it,before throwing the bag on,and picking up your bearskin. With your staff held in your left hand,you walk towards the cave exit,and,eventually,out of the cave. Once you step out of the cave,you see Hadvar tying something to the wagon's axle,the cart itself kept in place with large stones placed around the wheels. You walk up to the scene,and wait for Hadvar to come out from under the wagon.
"Fixing it up,eh? What'd you need to do to it?"
Hadvar gave the wheel a firm kick,and said,
"The axle has a big crack running through it. It needs to be replaced. But,I figured that we could at least use it to get some of our things to Riverwood... Provided I can do something to keep the axle held together for the trip."
"Without tools?"
"There's quite a few silver birch trees around here; I tore off strips of bark,and wove me some rope from that. Not exactly a permanent solution,but it'll do until we get to Riverwood."
You nod appreciatively; Pretty clever.
"So... What was your job in the Legion,again? You don't strike me as your typical soldier."
Hadvar flashed you a smile; It was somewhere between pride,and predatory.
"Special tactics and recon."
"Special forces,eh? So,you've got the training to operate on your own for a while. Good to know."
You gesture to the cart with your staff,and ask,
"Good to roll?"
Hadvar nodded.
"Yup. Should last until Riverwood. We can let Ralof's folks fix it up from there. Throw in your pelt,but mind the wine,eh? That'll probably fetch a good price at the Sleeping Giant."
You nod,and deposit your bear pelt in the wagon.
"I'll pull the wagon,then. I'm less useful in a fight,so if we get waylaid,we at least have our best fighter ready to go."
Hadvar nodded,and kicked the rocks out from behind the wheels.
"Sounds good to me. Let's go."
Taking a moment to place your backpack in the wagon,as well,you pick up the bars,push the wagon back a touch,step to the side,and set off down the dirt path behind Hadvar.
"I can't help but wonder why that dragon showed up when it did..."
You look at the back of Hadvar's head.
You know what? You think he can handle the truth.
"I'll tell you this much,Hadvar; Despite appearances,it wasn't for Ulfric."
"I want to agree with you; It was killing Stormcloaks,too. But,the timing was just too perfect."
"As much as your training says otherwise,Hadvar,that's just coincidence. Alduin was there for me."
"You? What makes you think that?"
You stare him in the eye; Hadvar was now looking back at you,over his shoulder.
"Because I'm the Last Dragonborn."
"And what makes you say that?"
"Because I was the only person in that caravan that wasn't on any side in the war,Alduin was addressing me,directly,to the point that he was even staring me down while he was perched on the central tower,and he was doing his best to cut me off while I was trying to not die. Further,when I introduced myself as Numinex? That just fell out of my mouth. It was instinct. Numinex is a dragon's name. The same dragon that got Dragonsreach its name. And considering the fact that dragons are lesser Aedra? Their souls tend to be rather permanent."
Hadvar came to a stop. You come to a stop beside him,and stare eachother down.
"How do you know all of this?"
"I tend to study things that grab my attention. The Dragonborn,dragons,and the like,all hold my interest. From there,I just connected the dots."
Hadvar just glared at you,before saying,
"I don't think you're telling the truth."
"You've got good instincts; You recognize that my logic is sound,for claiming I'm the Last Dragonborn,but you also recognize that I just fed you a steaming plate of bullshit for why I know. I'll tell you this much; If I told you the truth,you'd never believe me. You'd think I'm batshit insane. That,or it'll throw your entire worldview into doubt."
"Try me."
You raise your eyebrow.
"Fine. I'm not from this universe."
"What?"
"You heard me. I'm from beyond Nirn,Oblivion,Aetherius,Mundus... Everything. Where I come from? This? All of this?"
You gesture around yourself with one hand.
"Fiction. A story. Produced by the millions,to entertain the world. A story I very much enjoy,to be honest. And the protagonist of the story is the Last Dragonborn... And I took his place."
Hadvar glared at you,and asked,
"Who runs the Sleeping Giant?"
"Delphine,a middle-aged Redguard woman. Hard as nails,and rides Orgnar hard."
"Riverwood Trader?"
"The Valerius siblings own it,though Lucan does all the work. A solid gold dragon claw ornament was stolen from the store last night,by a group of bandits based out of Bleak Falls Barrow."
"The Greenest Bloom?"
"Doesn't exist."
Hadvar frowned at you.
"I'm inclined to believe your story,now. But,I don't think it'd be a good idea to share it."
"You don't say? Come on; Let's get going. Last I checked,there's a bandit camp nearby."
Hadvar nodded,and took the lead once again. You followed him down the path,which quickly gave way to a cobbled road. You went down the hill in silence,until the two of you came upon the Guardian Stones. You can't tell why,but you feel like you could return here at any time,from anywhere,now that you've been here,which is a bit of an odd feeling; Your sense of direction,while not shit,isn't that good. You chalk it up to your dragon soul,and translation of game mechanics.
"So... You probably know what these are,Numinex."
You nod.
"The Guardian Stones. There's one such Stone for each constellation. Each and every Stone confers a blessing. Permanent,unless you accept one from a different Stone."
Hadvar nodded.
"They might not work for you,considering the fact that you're not from here,but... It's worth a try."
"What Stone are you blessed by?"
"The Steed."
Makes sense,you suppose. Setting down the wagon's bars,you approach the Guardian Stones,and wonder which Stone,if any,to touch.
Pick One
Which Standing Stone should you accept the blessing of?
[] The Warrior.
[] The Mage.
[] The Thief.
[] None.
Inventory Management.
Our inventory needs to be managed carefully. Your choices are as follows.
[] Inventory's good.
[] Discard items; Write-in what.
[] Unequip items; Write-in what.
[] Equip items; Write in what,and where. THE PLAYER CHARACTER IS LEFT HANDED.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter VII - The Three Guardians
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter VII - The Three Guardians
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wilds of Skyrim,Falkreath Hold,Skyrim,Mede Empire,Tamriel
Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
1002 hours,local time
You step out of the cave,busy with trying to get your gauntlets fasteners just right; Much like everything else in your possession,they were too big,and thus,threatening to slide off whenever your hands are at rest. Eventually,you punched a new hole in the leather straps at the wrists and elbows,and close the fasteners there. This meant,however,that you had long leather straps dangling about,and you were,effectively,wearing mittens,for all the dexterity that overlarge gloves offer. You think it's safe to say that using a bow is entirely out of the question while you're wearing these things; They'd just get caught on the string,or,heaven forfend,the arrows.Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
1002 hours,local time
When you finished dicking around with your gauntlets,you noticed Hadvar was standing alone,leaning against the boulder he hid behind while Alduin threw his little tantrum on the way out.
"Ralof went ahead,eh? I guess that's for the best."
Hadvar nodded.
"Yeah. He seemed ready to kill you,back there. You need to learn how to temper your opinions,Ridley."
You shrug,and gesture back into the cave.
"Since Alduin's not threatening to bring the keep down,I think it's safe to wait in the cave,away from the wind,snow,and wildlife. Besides,the brazier in the bear cave keeps us from having to build our own fire."
Hadvar,once again,nodded,and the two of you stepped into the cave.
"You know,you look like a malnourished Altmer,in those robes."
"Eeh. Better than looking like a deserter,or escaped con."
You stepped into the main chamber of the bear's den.
"That is true. Still,my uncle's the blacksmith in Riverwood; I'm sure he'd be able to help set your robes right."
You nod appreciatively.
"The mail,at least. Who in town do you think would be able to do the fabric?"
"I'm sure that Sigrid would be able to do that,provided you don't mind it looking patched up and stitched together from rags."
You raise your eyebrow at Hadvar,and ask,
"What,like it isn't,already?"
Hadvar had a good chuckle at that.
"I guess you're right."
The two of you step past the bear's skinned corpse,and draw up on the abandoned wine wagon.
"I wonder if this fort had issues with alcohol..."
You approach the wagon,and sift through its contents; Bottles of wine,most of which were smashed,a horned iron helmet (Which you immediately ignored; Horns were very bad to have on helmets),and,most importantly,a coinpurse.
"Yoink!"
You pluck up the leather sack,and casually toss it into your bag.
"I don't know if it did,to be honest. Though,judging by this wagon,I guess it might have. Then again,it doesn't exactly matter,anymore."
You nod grimly at that.
"True."
You reach the brazier with Hadvar,and unhitch your bow; Keeping a bow strung up is a bad idea. The constant tension would permanently bend the weapon,taking away the springing flex that allowed the weapon to function,to begin with. So,you pressed the end of the lower limb against the cave floor,and pull the string off of the upper limb,before leaning the now-disassembled weapon against the cave wall,with your backpack swiftly joining it. In a moment,you pull out the purple tome you fished out from the Dunmer's cell,and pulled the staff out from its loop on the bag. Before you leave for Riverwood,you will know what this staff does,and you will know the spell contained within this book.
With the book being the major time sink,you decide to test the staff,first.
"Hey,Hadvar? How clean's your knife?"
"I wiped it off and gave it a dunk in the stream after we skinned the bear. Why do you ask?"
You spun the staff around your left hand,and pointed it at him.
"I wanna see if this thing's got a healing spell on it,rather than a ward."
"So,you want me to cut you open?"
"Just my palm. Lightly,if you would."
Hadvar nodded,and drew his knife,as you set the Conjuration tome down,before offering your right hand,palm up,to Hadvar.
"And if it doesn't have a healing spell?"
"Then you know first aid."
"Right,then."
Hadvar grabbed your hand,and drew the blade across your palm; It stung,but wasn't overly painful. The sensation,however,was tremendously disquieting; It felt,simultaneously,that the cut was dunked in ice,and pressed against a hot lightbulb. When Hadvar released your hand,you noted that the wound was freely bleeding,so,you choke up on the staff in your left hand,and point it at your cut hand.
Nothing happened.
Which,to be honest,you suspected would happen. If all it took to use a staff was a gesture,then they'd be firing off in all directions at all times while in someone's hand. So,you focused on the staff,and thought to yourself an order,directed at the staff,
"Release your magic."
The results were immediate. Resplendent golden light surged from the opalescent knob at the end of the staff,and enveloped your injured hand. The light spilled out to your elbow before stopping,and after a moment,you told the staff to stop. Your hand was still bloodied,but the cut was,quite plainly,gone. Nodding with satisfaction,you run your hand through the fur on your bear pelt to wipe away most of the blood,before sitting down,cross-legged,on the cave floor,your back to the brazier. Tucking the staff into the crook of your armpit,you pick up the Conjuration tome,and open it up.
"Hmm... I wonder if we can tan that hide,while we're here."
You look up at Hadvar,wearing an expression of obvious confusion.
"We have a heat source."
"But,we lack a rack,tools,and materials. Last I checked,you need piss,shit,and brains to properly tan a hide."
Hadvar screwed up his face at that; It's obvious that he was familiar with the stench. And hated it.
"Don't remind me. So,what spell's the book for?"
You shrug.
"Dunno. Didn't get that far,yet. I only just cracked it open,after all. This book'll keep me occupied for a couple of hours; Got anything to occupy your own time?"
Hadvar looked about,eventually resting his gaze on the overturned wagon.
"I think I do."
You nod,and say,
"Sounds good. We'll leave when we both finish up,alright?"
"Assuming it's light out."
You nod,and return to your book; Hadvar walks off towards the wagon.
Temperature - Comfortably warm.
Moisture - Dry.
Moisture - Dry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
About two hours later...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
About two hours later...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wilds of Skyrim,Falkreath Hold,Skyrim,Mede Empire,Tamriel
Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
1200 hours,local time
Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
1200 hours,local time
As you finish the last page of the book,you smile; Normally,you're not one for simple studying. To make something stick,you need to do it,and that's only after setting an objective for yourself; You're something of an autodidact,in that regard. Set a goal,and learn what you need to learn in pursuit of that goal,preferably by actually doing it. So,confident that some form of magic was at work,you smiled to yourself as the pages of the book began to smoulder; In Skyrim,spell tomes destroyed themselves,after teaching their spell. As a small blue flame started to rise from the pages,you cast the tome into the brazier behind you; The book was no longer of any use,and it'd dispose of itself,anyways.
Spell tomes will behave very similar to how they do in vanilla Skyrim; They will be destroyed upon use. I've decided that they burn themselves up,because that just fits,in my head. However,it's impossible to tell precisely what spell a tome contains without reading it,and reading a tome will burn it. Conversely,if you already know the spell contained within the tome,you will intrinsically know this fact. That said,you can still read the tome again - While it won't benefit your spells in any way,it is a way to both kill time,and dispose of the book,should you ever need to.
You stand up from your spot on the cave floor,and take a moment to beat the dirt and other debris that's attached itself to your ass and legs. Looking over to where the wagon used to be,you note that it's absent,as well as the intact bottles of wine.
"Hmm. Must've taken it outside to work on it."
You stick your disassembled bow on top of your bag,then close the flap over it,before throwing the bag on,and picking up your bearskin. With your staff held in your left hand,you walk towards the cave exit,and,eventually,out of the cave. Once you step out of the cave,you see Hadvar tying something to the wagon's axle,the cart itself kept in place with large stones placed around the wheels. You walk up to the scene,and wait for Hadvar to come out from under the wagon.
"Fixing it up,eh? What'd you need to do to it?"
Hadvar gave the wheel a firm kick,and said,
"The axle has a big crack running through it. It needs to be replaced. But,I figured that we could at least use it to get some of our things to Riverwood... Provided I can do something to keep the axle held together for the trip."
"Without tools?"
"There's quite a few silver birch trees around here; I tore off strips of bark,and wove me some rope from that. Not exactly a permanent solution,but it'll do until we get to Riverwood."
You nod appreciatively; Pretty clever.
"So... What was your job in the Legion,again? You don't strike me as your typical soldier."
Hadvar flashed you a smile; It was somewhere between pride,and predatory.
"Special tactics and recon."
"Special forces,eh? So,you've got the training to operate on your own for a while. Good to know."
You gesture to the cart with your staff,and ask,
"Good to roll?"
Hadvar nodded.
"Yup. Should last until Riverwood. We can let Ralof's folks fix it up from there. Throw in your pelt,but mind the wine,eh? That'll probably fetch a good price at the Sleeping Giant."
You nod,and deposit your bear pelt in the wagon.
"I'll pull the wagon,then. I'm less useful in a fight,so if we get waylaid,we at least have our best fighter ready to go."
Hadvar nodded,and kicked the rocks out from behind the wheels.
"Sounds good to me. Let's go."
Taking a moment to place your backpack in the wagon,as well,you pick up the bars,push the wagon back a touch,step to the side,and set off down the dirt path behind Hadvar.
"I can't help but wonder why that dragon showed up when it did..."
You look at the back of Hadvar's head.
You know what? You think he can handle the truth.
"I'll tell you this much,Hadvar; Despite appearances,it wasn't for Ulfric."
"I want to agree with you; It was killing Stormcloaks,too. But,the timing was just too perfect."
"As much as your training says otherwise,Hadvar,that's just coincidence. Alduin was there for me."
"You? What makes you think that?"
You stare him in the eye; Hadvar was now looking back at you,over his shoulder.
"Because I'm the Last Dragonborn."
"And what makes you say that?"
"Because I was the only person in that caravan that wasn't on any side in the war,Alduin was addressing me,directly,to the point that he was even staring me down while he was perched on the central tower,and he was doing his best to cut me off while I was trying to not die. Further,when I introduced myself as Numinex? That just fell out of my mouth. It was instinct. Numinex is a dragon's name. The same dragon that got Dragonsreach its name. And considering the fact that dragons are lesser Aedra? Their souls tend to be rather permanent."
Hadvar came to a stop. You come to a stop beside him,and stare eachother down.
"How do you know all of this?"
"I tend to study things that grab my attention. The Dragonborn,dragons,and the like,all hold my interest. From there,I just connected the dots."
Hadvar just glared at you,before saying,
"I don't think you're telling the truth."
"You've got good instincts; You recognize that my logic is sound,for claiming I'm the Last Dragonborn,but you also recognize that I just fed you a steaming plate of bullshit for why I know. I'll tell you this much; If I told you the truth,you'd never believe me. You'd think I'm batshit insane. That,or it'll throw your entire worldview into doubt."
"Try me."
You raise your eyebrow.
"Fine. I'm not from this universe."
"What?"
"You heard me. I'm from beyond Nirn,Oblivion,Aetherius,Mundus... Everything. Where I come from? This? All of this?"
You gesture around yourself with one hand.
"Fiction. A story. Produced by the millions,to entertain the world. A story I very much enjoy,to be honest. And the protagonist of the story is the Last Dragonborn... And I took his place."
Hadvar glared at you,and asked,
"Who runs the Sleeping Giant?"
"Delphine,a middle-aged Redguard woman. Hard as nails,and rides Orgnar hard."
"Riverwood Trader?"
"The Valerius siblings own it,though Lucan does all the work. A solid gold dragon claw ornament was stolen from the store last night,by a group of bandits based out of Bleak Falls Barrow."
"The Greenest Bloom?"
"Doesn't exist."
Hadvar frowned at you.
"I'm inclined to believe your story,now. But,I don't think it'd be a good idea to share it."
"You don't say? Come on; Let's get going. Last I checked,there's a bandit camp nearby."
Hadvar nodded,and took the lead once again. You followed him down the path,which quickly gave way to a cobbled road. You went down the hill in silence,until the two of you came upon the Guardian Stones. You can't tell why,but you feel like you could return here at any time,from anywhere,now that you've been here,which is a bit of an odd feeling; Your sense of direction,while not shit,isn't that good. You chalk it up to your dragon soul,and translation of game mechanics.
Out of doors,exploration is possible,provided we're not already doing something else. Exploration can yield any number of things,from items,to discovering new locations,to random encounters... Which tend to be hostile. When a location is discovered,you can choose to return to it at any time,in lieu of exploration. That said,this isn't instantaneous,or even safe; You'll still have to physically travel to the location,with all of the things that entails. This will be the Quest's primary means of getting from place to place,once we start filling out the map.
"So... You probably know what these are,Numinex."
You nod.
"The Guardian Stones. There's one such Stone for each constellation. Each and every Stone confers a blessing. Permanent,unless you accept one from a different Stone."
Hadvar nodded.
"They might not work for you,considering the fact that you're not from here,but... It's worth a try."
"What Stone are you blessed by?"
"The Steed."
Makes sense,you suppose. Setting down the wagon's bars,you approach the Guardian Stones,and wonder which Stone,if any,to touch.
There will be three sources of Perks in this Quest; Spending dragon souls,receiving training,and the Standing Stones. Each Standing Stone represents one of the celestial constellations in the sky above Nirn,and each constellation is a Charge to one of the Three Guardians. The Three Guardians are The Thief,The Warrior,and The Mage. Each Standing Stone will grant a certain number of perk points,but these perk points may only be spent on perks for skills governed by the appropriate Guardian. For example,accepting the Atronach's blessing will mean that any perk points it grants may only be spent on Mage skills.
The Guardians are a touch different; They will grant the Root Perk for every skill they govern,plus two perk points to spend wherever you please,provided you meet the perk's prerequisites. Further,you may only collect perk points from a single Guardian Stone.
The Guardians are a touch different; They will grant the Root Perk for every skill they govern,plus two perk points to spend wherever you please,provided you meet the perk's prerequisites. Further,you may only collect perk points from a single Guardian Stone.
Perkus Maximus adds three kinds of extremely powerful perks. These perks are so powerful,in fact,that they have special requirements attached.
-Mastery Perks are unique to The Warrior's skills. One lies at the end of each perk tree,demanding that you master the skill in question,before you can take them. This means that you need skill level 90 in the skill in the game. In the Quest,it demands that you pass a trial of my creation. Further,like in the game,you may only have a single Mastery Perk. Mastery Perks are expressions of perfection,allowing you to perform legendary martial feats.
-Focus Perks are unique to The Mage's skills. Two await at the end of each perk tree,which means mastering the skill in question. The sole exception to this is Enchanting,which only has the one Focus. Taking a Focus requires completing the related Ritual Spell quest,plus passing a trial of my creation. Enchanting,instead,will demand the completion of The Black Star,in place of a Ritual Spell quest. You may only have a single Focus Perk. However,there might be a way to cheat a second... Focus Perks are expressions of enlightenment,allowing you to wield magic like no other.
-Prodigy Perks are unique to The Thief's skills. One will welcome you at the beginning of each perk tree,requiring that you only learn the most absolute basics of the skill in question before taking them. Though,such deals might come with unforeseen consequences... You may only have a single Prodigy Perk. Prodigy Perks are expressions of pure talent,enabling even a novice to execute their audacious schemes.
A particularly omnidisciplinary Dovahkiin can have one Mastery Perk,one Focus Perk (Maybe two),and one Prodigy Perk.
-Mastery Perks are unique to The Warrior's skills. One lies at the end of each perk tree,demanding that you master the skill in question,before you can take them. This means that you need skill level 90 in the skill in the game. In the Quest,it demands that you pass a trial of my creation. Further,like in the game,you may only have a single Mastery Perk. Mastery Perks are expressions of perfection,allowing you to perform legendary martial feats.
-Focus Perks are unique to The Mage's skills. Two await at the end of each perk tree,which means mastering the skill in question. The sole exception to this is Enchanting,which only has the one Focus. Taking a Focus requires completing the related Ritual Spell quest,plus passing a trial of my creation. Enchanting,instead,will demand the completion of The Black Star,in place of a Ritual Spell quest. You may only have a single Focus Perk. However,there might be a way to cheat a second... Focus Perks are expressions of enlightenment,allowing you to wield magic like no other.
-Prodigy Perks are unique to The Thief's skills. One will welcome you at the beginning of each perk tree,requiring that you only learn the most absolute basics of the skill in question before taking them. Though,such deals might come with unforeseen consequences... You may only have a single Prodigy Perk. Prodigy Perks are expressions of pure talent,enabling even a novice to execute their audacious schemes.
A particularly omnidisciplinary Dovahkiin can have one Mastery Perk,one Focus Perk (Maybe two),and one Prodigy Perk.
Temperature: Neutral.
Moisture: Dry.
Moisture: Dry.
Pick One
Which Standing Stone should you accept the blessing of?
[] The Warrior.
[] The Mage.
[] The Thief.
[] None.
Inventory Management.
Our inventory needs to be managed carefully. Your choices are as follows.
[] Inventory's good.
[] Discard items; Write-in what.
[] Unequip items; Write-in what.
[] Equip items; Write in what,and where. THE PLAYER CHARACTER IS LEFT HANDED.
- Inventory
- Magicka
- Journal
- Skills & Perks
- Party
Last edited:
08 - Feels Like Home
Riddle78
Reality nibbler.
- Location
- CFB Middle of Nowhere on the Trans-Can
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter VIII - Feels Like Home
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter VIII - Feels Like Home
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Guardian Stones,Whiterun Hold,Skyrim,Mede Empire,Tamriel
Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
1230 hours,local time
You approach the three Guardian Stones. These three obelisks hold incredible power,and are akin to the birthsigns of previous titles. And,if this Skyrim is the same as the Skyrim on your computer,then these three stones are significantly more powerful than they are in vanilla. The three stones called out to your subconscious in different ways. The Warrior,direct and bold,advocated the "simple" solution; Kicking down the door,and ending fights swiftly with martial dominance. The Thief spoke to your soul of the "subtle" victory,the little victory; Ending fights before they begin,with the expert application of tools and guile... And a blade in the liver. The Mage expounded upon the "intelligent" choice; To solve all of your problems and tasks without lifting a finger of your own,casting all who stand before you,screaming,into Oblivion.Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
1230 hours,local time
Of the three voices,The Warrior was almost imperceptible,so greatly was it drowned out by The Thief and The Mage. However,a single voice wormed its way into your conscious.
"Look to the sky,and behold the majesty of Magnus."
You heed the voice,and crane your head upwards. Hanging practically perfectly overhead was the blazing globe of plasma that Terrans would call a sun. Here on Nirn,however,that wasn't a ball of burning gasses. That was a hole,punched in the veil between Nirn and Aetherius before time itself. You're fuzzy on the details,but something happened immediately after the genesis of Nirn that prompted Magnus to abandon the world; Gathering his incalculable power,he launched himself skyward,and rent a titanic hole in Oblivion on his way out. Eventually,he inspired imitators,who created similar,yet infinitely smaller,holes in Oblivion,which would become the stars and constellations.
That is what it means to be a mage; Power. The ability to look upon Nirn,Oblivion,and even Aetherius,and proclaim it as yours. The ability to,with a subtle gesture and a clever word,rewrite the laws of Mundus to your liking. To glare imperiously upon the infinite Daedra and dead,and know that they collectively bend their knee to you. The power to command the very fabric of magic to dispose of what annoys you. The authority to command life and death itself,to give life with one hand,and damn it with the other. The wit to twist the perceptions of the masses to suit your design. The ingenuity to take the mundane and ordinary,and to make it spectacular and sublime.
That is power. That is your blessing. That is the truth of your being!
You step up to the middle Stone,The Mage,and press your right hand to its surface. Instantly,it began to rumble with magickal power. After a moment,it began to light up,the hole at the top filling with magickal light,and the constellation upon its face followed suit. A moment later,a beam of light surged upwards from its apex,piercing the sky,but only for a few seconds. Almost as swiftly as it began,The Mage's Stone fell silent and dark. You turn around,return to the cart,and pick it up.
"The Mage,eh? Well,to each his own; It's not my place to judge. Come on,we're almost halfway to Riverwood."
A few minutes later,Hadvar spoke again,
"Listen,as far as I'm concerned,you've already earned your pardon. But,until we can get that confirmed by General Tullius,just stay clear of any other Imperial soldiers,and avoid any complications,alright?"
You nod; It makes sense.
For the next half hour,the two of you jog down the cobbled road in silence; You note the path up the side of a hill,which you recall leads to Embershard Mine,though that path is bizarrely very difficult to spot,coming from Riverwood. However,when Riverwood's... Gate,you guess it could be called,came into view,Hadvar spoke up,
"I'm glad you decided to come with me. We're almost to Riverwood."
Minutes later,we enter the hamlet proper,which was abuzz with chatter. A Nord and his mother were discussing Alduin; She saw him,but he thought she was crazy. Children were gathered at the Sleeping Giant down the way with a dog,discussing a prank. Hod and Gerdur were chatting about Ralof,but a nod from Gerdur quickly silenced their conversation; They saw Hadvar.
The two of you approached the smithy,where Alvor was hammering.
"Uncle Alvor,hello!"
Alvor looked up from his anvil,and saw Hadvar,a smile exploding across his face. Placing his hammer and tongs aside,he stepped away from his forge to properly greet his nephew.
"Hadvar,what are you doing here? Are you on leave from--"
As Alvor stepped onto the street,he got a clearer look at Hadvar,and his smile transformed into a rictus of worry.
"Shor's bones,what happened to you,boy? Are you in some kind of trouble?"
Hadvar raised his hands,and hushed his uncle.
"Shush,Uncle,please. Keep your voice down; I'm fine. But,we should go inside to talk."
Alvor nodded,then turned to regard you.
"What's going on? And who's this?"
You nod to Alvor with a smile as he gestured to you; Your hood flopped comically,even with the slight gesture,punctuated with the rasping of mail. Then,Hadvar came to the rescue,
"He's a friend; Saved my life,in fact! Come on; I'll explain everything,but we need to go inside."
Alvor sighed,and nodded.
"Come on inside,then. Sigrid will get you something to eat,and you can tell us what happened."
Alvor pointed at you,and said,
"You can leave the wagon by the forge. Should be safe,there."
You nod,and haul the wagon up onto the deck that the forge is built on,before following Alvor and Hadvar into the house.
"Sigrid! We have company!"
After a moment,Sigrid came up the stairs from the basement.
"Hadvar! We've been so worried about you! Come,you two must be hungry. Sit down,and I'll get you something to eat."
You nod,and bend at the waist,in a sort of half-bow,
"Thank you,ma'am."
"Oh,such manners! You could learn a thing or two from your friend,Hadvar."
The house burst into light laughter as you all took our seats; Alvor sat at the head of the table,Hadvar with his back to the fireplace,and you sat opposite Hadvar. Hadvar's... Little cousin,you guess? You were never good with the names of extended family. Regardless,Dorthe was her name,and she sat on the edge of a nearby bed,listening intently. Sigrid went down into the basement,then came back up with a bowl,filled with chopped potatoes,before dumping them into the bubbling stewpot.
"Now,then,boy. What's the big mystery? What are you doing here,looking like you've lost an argument with a cave bear?"
Hadvar leaned back in his chair,closed his eyes,and sucked in a breath through his nose.
"I don't know where to start. You know I was assigned to General Tullius' guard. We were stopped in Helgen when we were attacked... By a dragon."
"A dragon? That's... Ridiculous! You aren't drunk,are you boy?"
At that moment,Sigrid smacked her husband over the head with a... Switch,you think?
"Husband. Let him tell his story."
Hadvar shrugged,
"Not much more to tell. The dragon flew over and just wrecked the whole place. Mass confusion. I don't know if anyone else got out alive. I doubt I'd have made it out myself,if not for my friend,here."
You nod,and add,
"It was a collaborative effort. All I was good for was talking."
Hadvar waved his hand dismissively.
"Bah,don't be like that. If not for you,I'd be dead. Anyways,I need to get back to Solitude,and let them know what's happened. I thought you could help us out; Food,supplies,a place to stay."
Alvor nodded immediately.
"Of course! A friend of yours is a friend of mine!"
He turned to you,and said,
"That said,I need to ask a favour of you. You need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf,in Whiterun,that there's a dragon on the loose! Riverwood's defenceless. If you can do that,then I'll forever be in your debt."
You nod without hesitation.
"I will. That dragon's everybody's problem. And I have a bad feeling that this is just the beginning."
"It's not just me feeling that,then?"
Alvor chuckled mirthlessly.
"Still,take whatever supplies you need... Within reason,of course. And you're welcome to stay here for as long as you need."
You nod,and say,
"Thank you for your hospitality."
You sniff the air,for a moment,and note,
"Smells like that stew's a few hours from done. Is there anything I can do,to earn my keep?"
"Depends. Are you any good at the forge?"
You slump your shoulders.
"I don't know the first thing."
Alvor shakes his head sadly.
"Then I'm afraid you can't be of much help in this house. But,there's plenty to do in town; Check at the mill. They're always looking for help,there."
You nod,and stand up,
"Thanks. I'll check in every few hours,assuming I don't lose track of time. But,before I go,Alvor,sir?"
Alvor had a good chuckle,
"Please,it's just Alvor; I work for a living,after all."
"Right,Alvor. Do you have any pressing commissions?"
Alvot shook his head.
"No,just making a replacement blade for the mill,ahead of time. Why?"
Good.
"Well,I have a bear pelt in the cart. Do you think you'd be able to work it into a cloak,to keep the cold out?"
Alvor tilted his head to the side.
"I can prepare it,but I'm not a tailor. I work metal,you understand. But,if Sigrid wants to,I'm sure she can make you an excellent cloak."
"Certainly! I could also take in your robes,too; They look much too large for you."
Well,that was unexpected.
"The robes have mail in 'em. Alvor will need to work his magic with that,first,I'd wager."
"You're right,about that. I can work on your bearskin and robes while you work at the mill."
Hoo,boy.
"Yeah,about that. I don't have a shirt. Do you have one I can borrow,while you're doing that?"
"What,you're offended by the sight of a bare chest?"
You shake your head.
"No,Alvor. I'm unused to Skyrim's chill. If I'm going to be working up a sweat,I'd rather be insulated."
"Fair enough. Hadvar,you remember where we keep your old clothes,right?"
"Not a problem."
Hadvar ducked down the stairs,and came back up a minute or so later with a shirt.
"You keep them clean,I see."
"Might as well keep them fit to wear,right?"
You nod.
"Makes sense,to me."
Hadvar tossed the shirt to you,which you caught easily.
"I should get back to work. Give me your robed when you're changed...?"
Right,your name.
"Steven. Hadvar calls me Numinex as a sort of in-joke."
"Right,Steven."
You nod,and step down into the basement for some privacy. As you do so,you can hear Dorothe speak up,
"Hadvar! Did you really see a dragon? Did it have big teeth?"
"Hush,child. Don't pester your cousin."
"Aww..."
You chuckle to yourself as you take off your backpack,and strip your robes,before tossing on the shirt that Hadvar gave you; Amazingly,it was a good fit. However,an issue made itself apparent; You didn't have any footwear,and you were about to work at a medieval sawmill. That... Sounds like a one-way ticked to Tetanus Town. Casting your gaze around the basement,you find a pair of boots next to an ajar wardrobe. A quick peek into the wardrobe reveals it to be filled with clothes similar in style and size to the shirt that Hadvar supplied to you.
You slip on the boots,and find that they're a good fit. By Gwyn,it's almost as if Hadvar's your Tamriellic self.
Walking up the stairs,you nod to Sigrid and Hadvar,and step out the door. Rounding the corner of the deck,you dump your bag in the cart,and ask,
"So,Alvor; Where do you want my robes?"
Alvor eyeballed you for a good minute or so,before pointing over his shoulder,
"Throw them onto the table. I got a good handle on your measurements; You're like Hadvar five years ago."
You nod,and place your robes onto the table,after moving the other things on the table aside.
"Alright,I'll be at the mill. Gimme a holler if you need me for anything,alright?"
"Alright,then. Work hard,Steven."
Temperature: Neutral.
Moisture: Dry.
Moisture: Dry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Four Hours Later
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Four Hours Later
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hamlet of Riverwood,Whiterun Hold,Skyrim,Mede Empire,Tamriel
Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
1700 hours,local time
You groan as you hoist the end of the log over your shoulder,with Faendal on the other end. It's been like this all day,really; Hod puts the trunks through the saw,Gerdur gave everybody their marching orders,leaving Sven,Faendal,and yourself to actually drag and cut them up. And,right now,the Nord was busy splitting small logs into firewood,leaving you and the Bosmer to deal with the big shit.Morndas,Last Seed 17th,4E201
1700 hours,local time
"Urgh,that Sven..."
"Yes,I get it. You don't like him. Does he know you don't like him?"
"Of course he does!"
"Did you tell him to his face? Sven seems like the guy who'd forget his own head,if it weren't attached."
"You're right about that."
"I can hear you,you know!"
"That's the point,you icebrained oaf! And I really don't like you."
"What else is news?"
You cut in.
"Grass grows,birds fly,the sun shines,and we chop wood. You two don't like eachother."
You and Fanedal set the log down,and get your axes ready to chop it up into more manageable lengths.
"Got any reason why?"
"Not sure why it matters to you,Imperial."
I wheel around,and just look at Sven.
"Well,we're working together here,at least for now. You two live here. I think it's best to address this childishness now,at the source. That way,you two can move on with your lives,without having to feed the other to the saw."
A chilly silence hung in the air.
"Hmm. It wouldn't happen to be a woman,would it?"
"This doesn't involve you,Imperial."
You glare daggers at Sven.
"It does,now. Because I don't want you two doing something stupid just because you're both going for the same woman. Now,the only single women in this town,that I know of,are Delphine,and Camilla. Considering the fact that Delphine's a hardass pushing her sixties... It's about Camilla,yeah?"
"What,precisely,are you getting at,Steven?"
You cast a glance at Faendal,and note him looking rather annoyed. Big shock.
"She probably knows you two are competing for her... But did you bother to ask her how she feels about you?"
Stunned silence.
You crack a smirk.
"You didn't. Bra-fucking-vo. In your haste to prove yourselves superior to the other,you've forgotten to consider the feelings of the woman you love. I suggest you fix that once we're off shift."
You start to chop up the log,as Sven and Faendal stare at you,dumbstruck. Eventually,Sven spoke,
"If you're so confident,why not ask her yourself?"
You laugh. Once.
"Oh,no. This is about you. Grow a pair,and ask her yourself."
"...Fine."
The rest of the shift was spent in silence,as you hacked up the log. Eventually,you returned to Alvor's place,covered in wood chips; You had the presence of mind to beat them off yourself before knocking on the door,which is answered by Dorthe.
"Oh! Steven,come in!"
You smile at her,and nod,before stepping into the house; Sigrid was filling bowls with the stew.
"Aah,you're just in time,Steven."
You nod,and say,
"So it would seem. Oh,and before I forget..."
You pull a coinpurse from under your shirt,and press it against Alvor's chest.
"Today's pay. Consider it my first instalment on the payment due for my cloak and robes."
"You don't need to pay me,Steven. It's my pleasure,really."
You shake your head.
"I won't argue. I sleep in your bed,I eat your food,I wear your clothes,I take your services as a smith? I refuse to simply take that."
"And what about you? You'll need money for your trip to Whiterun."
"I'll manage."
Alvor glanced between you,Hadvar,and Sigrid,before finally sighing,and taking the coinpurse.
"Alright,if you insist. Now,then; Let's eat!"
You plant yourself in a seat at the table,and enjoy the hearty stew that Sigrid had bubbling all day. It reminded you very much of your mother's homemade turkey soup,to be honest. Dorthe was the first to notice my suddenly dampened mood.
"What's wrong? Don't you like the stew?"
"I like it,a lot,actually... But,that's the problem."
You lean back in your seat.
"It tastes like home."
"Oh..."
You return to your stew,just as Dorthe spoke again,
"Well,what if this were your home,now?"
You give a wry smile around your spoon. Swallowing your food,you chuckle.
"I thank you for your hospitality,but... I think it's too early to make that call,right now. My life's been pulled inside-out this morning,after all."
Sigrid spoke next,
"Are you uncomfortable here?"
You shake your head.
"No,that's not it. It's just that... I don't know where I belong. My home's worlds away,and I just barely survived a dragon attack."
Hadvar nodded,and said,
"I know what you mean. Plenty of people like you in the world,right now. Maybe you should consider the Legion? We take all sorts,you know,and it'd give you a purpose in life."
You shrug.
"I don't know what to think,right now."
"Take your time. The world's not going anywhere."
You and Hadvar knew the truth was the opposite,but there wasn't any reason to worry his folks.
Dinner was finished in silence,and cleaning was left to Sigrid and Dorthe,at their insistence. That left Alvor,Hadvar,and yourself to go to the Sleeping Giant to socialize. Upon arrival,the three of you dispersed,with you planting yourself at a table to count the money you've collected in Helgen; Who knows,maybe you have enough for a drink.
After a couple of minutes,you learn that,yes,you do indeed have enough gold for a drink. In fact,you have enough for a great many drinks. That said,you were never much of a booze hound. Hmm... Maybe it's enough to get the essentials; A map,a tent,a wood chopping axe... Maybe a blank book,a quill,and an inkwell; Having a notebook would be killer.
As you swept your coins back into your purse,Delphine walked upto your table.
"Finished counting your coin? What'll you have?"
Delphine. The Blade. Probably the single deadliest person in the entire town; She'd have no problems with slitting your throat in your sleep,if she felt you were onto her identity.
"A bottle of mead,please. Honningbrew,if you have it."
"Not a problem. That'll be ten drakes."
You fish out the coins,and drop them into her waiting hand,before she left to grab your drink. A minute later,the undercover Blade returned with your drink.
"Hold up."
You fish out two Septims,and hand them to her.
"I believe in tipping good service."
Delphine accepted the coins with a word of thanks,and set out to serving the rest of the customers.
You were about halfway through your bottle when a conversation caught your attention.
"I said no! No adventures! No theatrics! No thief-chasing!"
"What're you going to do about this,huh? Let's hear it!"
"We are done talking about this!"
You glance over your shoulder,spotting Lucan and Camilla as they walked into the inn.
Right... The Golden Claw. I'll need to do it,either way...
Temperature: Cozy.
Moisture: Drying.
Inebriation: Fit to drive.
Select One.Moisture: Drying.
Inebriation: Fit to drive.
Either way,you need the Golden Claw to progress the "plot"; The question is,do you want to save yourself the trip?
[] Approach the Valerius Siblings.
[] Ignore the Valerius Siblings.
Perks
You have the capacity to grow; What skills should you learn?
[] Write-in what perks to learn.
[] Save the perk points.
Inventory Management
Bag space is precious,and managing it should always be on your mind.
[] Inventory's good.
[] Discard items; Write-in what.
[] Unequip items; Write-in what.
[] Equip items; Write-in what,and where. Numinex is left-handed.
Thanks to perks provided by The Mage,you've gained one spell per School of Magic. Give 'em a read; These are what the game gave me,and it could hardly get any more ideal. Before voting,please wait until I post a complete rundown of the perks,after this; It'll likely take a few hours,at minimum,as I'll need to fix the rampant formatting errors from the text document,and note the prerequisites... Which involves excessive alt-tabbing from the game,which invites crashes.
- Inventory
- Magicka
- Journal
- Skills & Perks
Last edited: