Day 16: A brand new day
Well, the world is basically safe now so I guess I can basically take a vacation or something? That'd be swell. I haven't slept or eaten for like 3 months now so this'll be pretty good for me. Let's just go home and...
Oh, hey guys. How's it going? You're looking for a Dragonborn? Well yes, that's me, what can I do for you?
Oh. Oh, so it's going to be like that. Fine.
If you buy the DLC to this, be warned that if you buy all the DLC at once, these guys will come up to you and summon some monsters. At the same time, a nice man will come up to you and insist you join the Dongguard. Which yes, thanks, that's great but I'm currently ON FIRE and these guys are trying to wreck my shit right in the middle of town, so if you could just give me a sec?
Well, I suppose your problem is important too... Just a sec, then.
The cultists were dealt with. I left their bodies in town as a reminder to the populace of what happens when you get in my way. It's been weeks now and people haven't moved them, they just cry a bit when they see a dead person on the floor. It upsets the children especially. They cry a lot.
Huh, so you guys are black allll the way down. How 'bout that...
I'm not sure what I was expecting, really. It's not like they're wearing the elven equivalent of Blackface.
I went inside a soul gem. Having been in one, I don't feel so bad about trapping the souls of all those people because this is SERIOUSLY the most awesome place in the game. Look at it! It's a tiny world made of crystal hexagons! And that guy doesn't seem to be hungry or lonely or anything, so I guess he has everything he needs.
Really, it's kind of a kindness. At least if their soul is here it can't go to Oblivion.
Ah, blue gas. Guess it's time to go to sleep.
I love sneak. It makes people die in such profound ways. I don't know if these two were lovers when they were alive (undead, whatevs) but I've decided that they are now.
Man, you bloodsuckers are such a pain in the neck.
Then I became a werewolf. True story. I tried drinking some cure disease potions but that didn't have much of an effect. I guess the disease of lycanthropy isn't a disease... 'kay.
They were all urging me to embrace the beast inside and all the rest of it. I don't know, I think they just knocked me out and put me in a fursuit. Although I suppose they aren't furries 'cause you'd expect one of them to be a dragon, because there's always a dragon at furry conventions. I think. I decided not to eat anybody (which seemed to be the goal) and ran away to hide until I felt a bit better because werewolves scare people and I've already dammed the river Whiterun and left bodies for the children to play with. There's only so much I can get away with as a thane.
This would be more of a touching scene illustrating the horrors of war and all that, except that A) I killed him so it's hard to feel bad about this and B) they're actually both dead. And that's hilarious.
Dragonbjorn, you pick up the weirdest stuff. You're keeping that in the same bag as your alchemy ingredients and your potions. Those are going to be going in your mouth. Think this one through, seriously. Potions of cure disease and cure poison probably aren't going to help if they have rotten witch blood in them.
The king of the companions died. Meh. Then I got yelled at because "WAAAH, you weren't here to defend us in our hour of need even though there was no indication that our enemies would come to town, we have an entire city militia to defend us and we're a warrior guild! Why were you going on a mission assigned by our leader instead of sitting here and waiting for us to be attacked?!".
Jesus. The companions are a bunch of dicks!
I took their leader's body and put it on the big fire in the middle. It seemed respectful.
Apparently the companions aren't programmed to recognise when you've moved their leader's body because they sat and mourned the carpet instead. O... kay then.
They put a funeral pyre on the forge. Well, it's a good size I guess? I think you're supposed to, like, set that on fire though. Hang on, I've got something for that...
'kay, a little firebolt has fixed that problem. No, don't thank me.
I fixed that Stormcloak problem next. That really upset everything in Windhelm but that's okay because they're racists and it's okay to be unpleasant to racists. It's the only way they'll learn. After all, you know what they say? An eye for an eye gives the world a massive sense of clarity.
Ulfric fell over into a fire. That's going to smell. Better move him...
MUCH better. And this throne really suits me! You can see here that I also became the king of all blacksmiths and made some things out of dragon bones. I'm now basically unstoppable.
This man will be named Hector Stacheman. He has the most amazing facial hair that the world has ever known.
Went back a little while later. They had a new jarl who actually seems like a good guy! I can't help but notice that he's left Ulfric there, though... well... maybe it's an intimidation thing? There seems to be a lot of unrest and "Hrumph, it was better the old way and why are you even talking to me?" around the dinner table. And the smith is getting really pissy, too.
This bloody thing!
Don't let anybody tell you that it's not worth it because it really is! I mean sure, it took about 5 hours to find it but I now have an infinite supply of flawless diamonds. Sort of a shame I've already maxed my smithing. And bought all the houses. And have that achievement for 100k gold.
I'm genuinely surprised that there isn't a Steam achievement for getting this sucker. Or for the dragon priest masks.
Oh look everyone, it's Molag Bal and he's here to tell you how he's sooo much better than you!
Because that's all he does!
"You dared to defy me? I'm just going to torture you until you say uncle and kiss my scaly feet because I'm Molag Bal and I'm bigger than you. Then I'll kill you and send you to hell where I'll bugger you for all eternity because I'm Molag Bal."
The daedra are, with few very exceptions, a bunch of self-important prats but this guy really takes the cake. I think he might actually be an elf.
And here's Hircine, the daedric prince of Those Horse Masks That Are Sort Of Popular Online.
And the prince of... projectile vomiting, from what I could tell. This guy... girl... thing... had the most disgusting worshippers. And they talk to you through the medium of green smoking soup. Certainly one of the weirder ones. Even weirder than the lord of madness, and he's the friggin' lord of madness.
People were having bad dreams so they asked the mercenary to kill people until the dreams stopped. Not practical, sure, but these people are proactive at least. They find a problem, they try to solve it. I wish more people in this world would resolve their problems with stabbing rather than telling me to gather 50 crimson bloodworts then talk to Brulf Oarmaker. Quick and clean, y'know? It's satisfying!
And if I get to break a few things along the way, all the better.
I apparently killed a bear so hard that he plunged his head into the ground. DOVAHKIN.
A few minutes later, a completely unrelated bear got stuck in the ceiling, forced its way out of the floor and tried to attack me. This should have been a sign that things were going to get a bit weird.
'kay, I hated this place for so many reasons. Let's work through my issues together one by one, shall we? It's good for the healing process!
- It's far, far too long. There were seriously like 4 distinct sections to this place and I had to go back to one of them 3 times. I was just mopping up quests to try to get all the daedric artifacts, I didn't sign up for a marathon dungeon.
- It's full of people who vomit green stuff at you from a great distance. I've seen a lot of things in my life. I've watched Braindead for God's sake. You still can't tell me that this kind of thing is right.
- All those pots of green stuff lying around kept confusing me and making me think I was playing Doom. Which is kind of like playing Skyrim except your bow is better and you don't have to diplomacise with anything.
This place made me angry. And the people in here were all hostile! That's normally all I'm looking for! It should have been great!
'kay, hold up now. What are these plants for? I can't see any way in which a plant would ever grow nodules of pus unless, say, they were planted in that same goop that made the Toxic Avenger into a household name. What does the plant get out of this? Do the seeds flourish in yellow goo?
I killed a giant. He remained completely upright. I tried to push him over but he couldn't. Many years from now, his body will calcify and create a beautiful monument to my achievement.
I think that's how giants work. They don't rot, you see.
Accidentally forced this guy out of his torture cage. Take that, Molag Bal! Who's the big man now?!
It's still you, isn't it Molag Bal? That's fine. I know my place.
Well, had to kill that guy too. Now that the world has been saved, morality has become more of an opt-in philosophy rather than a requirement for participating in polite society. It's kind of liberating! This guy died in front of a sacrificial altar so I thought he should be on top of it or something. Molag Bal didn't comment. He's shut up a lot since he gave me his painstick.
So I gave things a little thought after I'd been travelling to find these cursed items. I mean sure, adventuring is fun and profitable, but it's not very fulfilling. I need something more in my life.
Dragonbjorn, let's find you a mate.
Appearance is everything in these matters. As a renowned breaker of hearts myself, I should know. Can't do anything about my smell, I've still got that lycanthropy thing so there's that... I'd better just get my finest finery and see what we can salvage. I've got a decent speech score, so at least we can charm a lady.
Dawnbreaker? Yeah, that's probably the nicest weapon I own. Ladies love swords. It's basically a scientifically proven fact.
Aaand we'll need a ring. No problem, I've got that covered. Diamonds? No, too common. This should do the trick. She doesn't have to know I stole it from a dead lady at her own wedding.
I realise that in the game, there was an awkward but effective courtship for all of 2 minutes. It was... sweet in it's way, I guess. I still prefer to think that Dragonbjorn wandered up to her, breath like the underside of a oil tanker and forced the ring onto her finger while grunting unintelligibly.
When she responded to my advances, she did actually sound like she was crying. And not with joy, either. I know this can be an emotional time, though. She did prattle on about life being short in Skyrim a lot. I'm hoping that wasn't wishful thinking.
So, finery applied, it was time for the big day.
Lots of people came, but they didn't have anything useful to say.
The room was tasteful, elegant and wasn't pretentious while still maintaining a sense of style, uniquely its own. Perfect.
Dragonbjorn was bearing the ceremonial quiver of his forefathers. Handed down from Anvilsmith to Anvilsmith for many a generation, it's steeped in history and the blood of the fallen.
Dragonbjorn has chosen a bold ensemble here. The combination of dead lady's wedding dress, dead lady's wedding ring and dead ancient nord's horned helmet are very striking, but the boots of the dead jester Cicero really set off the outfit. I mean really, she's a very lucky lady.
After I went through with this marriage, she disappeared for a full two days. I eventually found her and told her she could live in proudspire manor. That seemed to calm her down. I would have said that she was marrying me for the money, but I'm stealing her earnings so... yeah, that backfired, huh? And she seems like a super nice lady.
As a werewolf, I gain no benefits from sleeping. I will never share a bed with this woman. It's probably for the best. The world isn't ready for the pitter patter of homicidal little feet yet. Plus, we cant have babies. I didn't install Hearthfire.
This guy right here? This guy beats Cicero. I want this man to follow me and talk to me at all times, because he's what you'd get if you got Sean Connery hopped up on shrooms and gave him MAGIC.
I realised that he'd dressed me in new clothes. I thought that was a nice touch.
Haha! A tiny wee man has to fight a giant man now! Look at them go!
Fight, tiny man! I believe in you! I believe in your cause! You can do this!
Mildly embarrassed draugr. Just picture this with the caption "Aw shucks, it weren't nothin'".
The aurora borealis hung heavy in the sky, layered like one of those vienetta ice cream things. You know the ones, with the crispy chocolate stuff on the top? Like that, yeah.
I forget why this was important.
I collected a bunch of dragon priest masks. My reward was another dragon priest mask. You'll note that they've chosen the popular "pipe organ" display method.
I had a rummage through my ingredients chest. It was a bit cluttered with useless potions (invisibility potion? Please, I have 95 sneak). I tried to take these to some shops but after clearing out the available cash of all of them and having only lost 100 weight of potions, it was time for some philanthropy. I would find the most downtrodden looking person in town, someone who'd never asked for anything in return and I would reward them with tends of thousands of septim's worth of valuable balms and tonics.
She was not amused. Shame. Oh well. We know what happens now, don't we kids?
Well, that takes care of everything. Whiterun is ruined, the daedra are going to stop talking to people because they're out of loot to reward their champions with, the dragons are being culled and every dragon priest in the world is dead. Shall we review our accomplishments, then?
- Prince of thieves
- King of the guild of furries
- Lord of the dance. Or bards.
- Master assassin
- Some kind of superwizard or something
- Speaker to the dead
- Champion of more than 10 distinct devils
- World's greatest armourer and enchanterer
- Impoverisher of orphans
- War hero
- Chicken slasher
So I suppose that's it. Time to go deal with that vampire thing. Are you ready? I know I'm ready. We're going to do this, you and I, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
And by you, I mean you reading this blog. Yes, you. In the literal and figurative sense, we will plunder Tam'riel together, dearest reader!
You'd better bring some thermal undercrackers.
Thought for the day:
I'll stop hating elves when they give me even the slightest reason to stop hating elves. Tra-la-la-lally.