Cream of Wheat is actually delicious if you add some Nestles Quick chocolate powder, sugar, and a little milk in with it. (Redguard Cream of Wheat? )

On the other hand, Grits are made from ground up corn parts that people normally don't eat. You can salt and pepper/butter/cheese them - but they still taste like ground up sand, urk.

The difference? One of them I will eat a lot of, the other I won't touch with a ten foot pole,

I know, I love Cream of Wheat. I still cook it the old-fashioned way too: milk, mix, and salt. Yummm. I like just putting sugar & butter in once it's ready to eat. None of that fancy fruit or berries or whatever, I just like it a bit sweeter.

I actually have always wondered what the difference is between grits and Cream of Wheat. I see now! All you Europeans & Aussies, you folks don't have these breakfast foods, right? Grits are another breakfast food, although mostly from the south parts of USA. I myself have never eaten grits.

Dang, now I'm hungry again.

This post has been edited by Renee: Nov 22 2015, 06:34 AM

I only eat Cream of Wheat with chocolate powder in it and some sugar. I just put enough milk in to cool it off just a bit, not enough to cut the chocolate taste, lol.

You guys do know we have a food thread in the General section...?



So now Kahreem is in Bruma? Blimey, he beat Lothran by a week. He won´t be there until next weekend! But unlike the K-man, I don´t think he´ll "visit" the prisons immediately upon arrival!

Ha ha beat you there! Granted, Lothran will get a much warmer reception than Kahreem did.

Trespassing, horse-theft, a stolen bunch of grapes?



I imagine he went on Jorundr's nervers with his constant blabbing.

It's a nice touch when Kahreem tells us about which skills he's less proficient in after being in jail.

Turdas, 6:43 pm. Sun's Dawn 28, 3rd Era 434



"This? Naww. Yeah, this. No. Yes." .... *clink!... bonk..*

Kahreem of Weet rummages some tables inside Castle Bruma's dining hall. Selecting this, tossing that upon the floor. Silver knife? Yes. ... Loaf of bread? Yes. ... Rotted apple? Um, no. ... Silver plate? Oh yes. Here he is in Bruma, the taste of wealth starting to grow again. He'd spent way too much gold on his trip: from Bravil to the Imperial City he'd spent hundreds. Had it been worth it? ... Well, who fokkinge could say? But one thing for sure: time to reline that manpurse with some extra gold, after a rummage through the castle, and a visit to Ongar.

"Well hello there!" says a lady in blue in a booming voice. Booming? ... No, echoing. Her voice echoes, loud and clear. Unsuspecting.

Kahreem freezes anyways, hoping his nightsack (which is slung over his shoulder) doesn't move. Just one *clink* would be all it takes, and he'd be back in jail again. Back in that chilly jail, the chilliest of all. Back with that weird Nord guy, most likely. No way no WAY is Kahreem going back in there.

"Well hello m'lovely. Me's the new pooortah. Just gatherin' up ... tidying up, I means to say."

Phew. The lady in blue walks off. Sits down. Starts to eat. She must be the Countess. She has that sort of look. She has that sort of perfumey odor, too.

"Good afternoon."

A guard walks in; crappe. Rummaging time is over. Not bad though. Kahreem thinks he's just gained at least a hundred gold. Time to visit Ongar. The guard becomes preoccupied with watching the lady in blue have her supper. And the Redguard is grateful (for once) for the castle's soothing background music. It's not too loud, but it'll help to hide the little clink noises coming from his nightsack. He walks slowly off ... clink, clink, clink. And oddly, neither the guard nor the lady seem to notice that the room's silverware and half its food is missing.


10:15 pm
The night's air is deliciously chilly. Kahreem feels this biting cold, and suddenly misses the fur armor set he'd bought a few days earlier. But it's just a quick walk, through the town of Bruma.

"Why do you bother me? GO AWAY!"

He bursts into Olav's, in which Ongar and Olav are in the middle of some heated discussion about the Emperor and his three sons. Kahreem has a seat across from Ongar. An elf and another Nord man sit at an adjacent table, discussing the fallacy known as the Dark Brotherhood. A tall woman, probably another elf, stands and listens. Food and drink, everywhere. Nobody will notice the transaction about to commence.

"Ongar, it me!"

"I'm really tired. Can we get on with this?"

"I've got some .... property you might be interested in. My great aunt, from Hammerfell, she just passed away," he says with a wink. "And left me these things."

"You got some hot property?"

The Redguard makes a shushing motion. "Hot? Ahem. My great-aunt would describe these pieces as 'elegant', perhaps. Just look at this finery. Look at this craftsmanship."

"Heh hee hee... I think I can move this item at a fair price. Got anything else?"

Kahreem is disappointed. Although he 'moves these items at a fair price', Kahreem is dismayed to find Ongar offers nowhere near 100 gold. All told, Kahreem makes just over forty, not a hundred. The silverware he sells to Ongar may have come from the castle, but it is cheap, mass-produced stuff. Not worth much at all, apparently. Kahreem wants to explode, but can't argue with the guy on price. Not here. ... Not where attention can be drawn.

"Hey Ongar, you sell toothpicks, do you not?"

"A fine bargain for you."

Kahreem buys some much-needed 'toothpicks', 10 of them ... no, make that 20. Toothpicks could be hard to come across out in the world.

"I'm glad that's done. I need a nap," Ongar plays his part, the part of a bored townie citizen, to perfection.

"Cheers, my friend."

"Shadow hide you."



11:12 pm
Still in Olav's Tap 'n' Tack, Kahreem pores his mind, wondering who he is supposed to meet here in town. He knows the Grey Fox had ordered him here, but since Methredhel had delivered this message to him back in Bravil when Kahreem was stone-drunk, he cannot remember who he is supposed to meet, and where he is supposed to go.

But then, he realizes he can read, and finds the hastily-scrawled note Methredhel had given him. Helvius Cecia is the name of the house where he is to go. He gets up from his table. Before he leaves though, he decides to see what's in the house tonight.

"Olav, hello. I have something for you."

"Oh really? Food, drink, I have it all."

Another disappointment. No Cheap Wine. Only mead, Surilie's, and an expensive bottle of Tamika's. Fokke. Kahreem buys the Surilie's, a current vintage costing 9 gold, leaving him with 246. He gulps this beverage as he walks out of Olav's. A little liquid courage, if you will. He walks from house to house, the cold air not quite as cold, now that he's got some warmth. He passes a guard, who chides the Redguard, telling him to 'go away'. Too late for that. Nobody else is about, except a single platinum-haired elf, who passes by without a word. Kahreem checks the nameplate of one house. No, not Helvius Celca. Another one, then a third. No, and no. Then he sees a figure in the road. Poorly-dressed, and wearing a headband.



"The Grey Fox is waiting for you," says this man. Snow begins to fall almost immediately at this moment.

"Grey Fox?"

"He's inside, downstairs. Don't keep him waiting."

Guffaw! The thief meeting his master, at this moment? Kahreem decides perhaps he'd better get his fur armor, after all.



This post has been edited by Renee: May 23 2023, 06:26 PM

Toothpicks!

Finally Kahreem is about to meet the Grey Fox in person.

I really like the last pic.

This post has been edited by Lopov: Dec 13 2015, 09:54 AM

So, Kahreem met a "platinum-haired elf" in Bruma? My, my. That does ring a bell, doesn´t it?

Are there some Drows in Bruma?

Yeah, there are some platinum-haired drow elds in Bruma. Why do u need a mod to make this "drow" ?

Cool, I'm glad you caught that, mirocu.

No Kahreem this week, sorry. Yeah I know, just when it was getting good. But please enjoy this bit of "filler" I wrote up ages ago. It portrays what one of mine is dealing with, now that the Oblivion Crisis has long been over.



9:15 am, Fredas, Frostfall 19, 4th Era 20

"Salute! Welcome! Please say your piece."

"Exactly my aim, as a matter of fact. I am wanting to 'say my piece', so here goes."

A small group has shown up for worship and meditation inside of Cheydinhal's Chapel of Arkay. The orc who initially spoke stands closer, a pale-skinned lady stands taller. A monk. An elf wearing shabby clothes. And of course, Renee's two companions: Tasha and Gabrielle. Tasha, a dark elf, had just been added to the group the previous day. Her specialty hinted towards shadows and stealth, but Tasha had also admitted she loved bashing enemies with blunt weapons. And indeed, she had been carrying a mace of silver when Renee Gade the third had met her in the Fighter's Guild.



Renee continues. "Around these walls, and you might never know this, because you townspeople never go outside, but outside there are all still sorts of menaces about. Goblins, outlaws, bandits, trolls ... the list goes on. The Oblivion Crisis may long be over, but another crisis still faces. My name is ... well, my given name is Lucitia, but you may come to know me eventually by another name, one much more familiar, and famous. But to my point."

Silence from the group. Multi-colored light filters in through stained glass.

"My aim is to eradicate those monsters and menaces, before you might even know they are there. And it's not just me, there are several of us out there, doing our duty trekking about, casting adventures, and keeping the lands and towns safe."

"Thank Akatosh the Oblivion Crisis is over!" cries the lady nearest Renee.

"Yes, thanks to events which happened some 20-odd years ago, we all are safe as long as we stay within these walls, this is true. But the work is never truly done. Trust that."

"A lot of good men died. But it could have been worse. A lot worse," says the elf wearing shabby clothes.

"Yes well, ahem. Just want you all to know that for every successful campaign I hold around your precious Cheydinhal, I will return to this altar," she says, patting her hand upon the main altar of Arkay, "to place an item of value, or interest, as a sort of tithe to the church. It is my way of giving back."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it is. Thank you all for your attention toward these matters. I shall return soon."

"It's so good to meet you!" says the lady with the pale skin.

"Go away fool!" says the orc.

[YAWN] yawns the mage wearing shabby clothes.

This post has been edited by Renee: Dec 21 2015, 01:24 AM

I decided to write about my new character in retrospective. I've never done it before and by doing it I assured that my character's not dead-is-dead. I know that entries may be too long for some, especially the first one is lengthy because it features an intro and the first entry. Thanks to everyone that's going to read it and I hope you enjoy it.

______________________________________________________


Urag gro-Shub, the librarian of the College of Winterhold, was grumbling as he often did - either with a reason either without one. It was Sundas and he had a lot of different books from all parts of Skyrim and beyond to check and sort. Most of material was brought to him by College students but some of them were so incompetent, that they often brought him badly damaged or worm-eaten books so Urag couldn’t make any use of them. “Like this one!” he said and lifted a thick book covered in weathered leather. “I can’t even read the title.” He took another look and managed to discern some words:



“Mem…res…probably memoires…of La…l Obe…n – I can’t get it, must be some name.” Urag almost threw the book on a pile with other damaged books but then he remembered something peculiar about the title.

“Wait!” he said aloud and took another good look at the book. “What if…what if Obe stands for Oberon? Hmmm…could it be? Could this piece be the long lost Oberon’s memoires?”

Urag carefully opened the book and to his pleasure contents of the book weren’t in such a bad condition as its cover. Some pages were missing, some were much damaged but most of it was readable. After he skimmed through first pages, Urag realized that he holds one of the most fabled books in his hands. “This is it! It must be it!” The old Orc took another good look at the cover – he knew a spell, capable of briefly restoring illegible words but Urag rarely used it because it required immense concentration and couldn’t be recast for a long time. But this time it was more than worth it – Urag focused his mind on the book, snapped his fingers two times and bright yellow light appeared right between them. He quickly pointed them at the title and though he anticipated what his eyes will see, he felt even more enthusiastic when the title indeed turned out to be:



Urag sat down, carefully opened the book and began reading…

I

My daughter says I should write a journal. My problem is that I'm not good at writing.

In fact, a journal isn’t a proper word because at the time of Oblivion Crisis I didn't keep any kind of journal. So memoires would be more appropriate. It's another chilly winter in Bruma so I might as well write a thing or two from the 3rd Era.
--
My name is Lariel Oberon but most people call me just Oberon. I don't like Lariel, it makes it sound like I'm a Bosmer but in fact I'm a Breton. In my thirties I was a prosperous agent in service of the High Court of High Rock, and my career was promising indeed. But too much of ale, fighting with guards, sleeping with wrong (and too many) women, a side business here and there, ... don't contribute well to a promising career of an agent.

At my best I had noble assignments such as spying on the Royal Court of Black Marsh but by the time of 3€433, I was nobody. The Nobody. I considered myself lucky if I even got a courier assignment from the Court of High Rock. I had an ale for breakfast, two for dinner and two more in evenings, I often slept on streets or in prison, and sometimes I wondered how by the Nine I am still alive. I didn't believe much in the Nine back then yet today I believe slightly more.

So, in the 3€433, it was Last Seed, I got some delivery job to perform in the Imperial City but I never got around to completing it. By the time our ship docked in the Waterfront, I was so drunk, so damn drunk that I couldn't walk straight but instead of throwing me in the lake to sober me up, kind legionnaires threw me in jail. I managed to hit one or two as they were dragging me there, but in return they hit me harder and I woke up much later in some forgotten cell, I had a hangover and my body was full of bruises, but the most horrible of all was some Dark Elf across the hall who was worse than the most rambling woman, he just wouldn’t shut up.

Then my life took a different course. The Emperor Uriel Septim himself marched into my cell. I've seen the man before, years ago back in High Rock when I was in charge of security measures on his visit and I wondered what he thought of me when he saw a scruffy agent barely standing up in front of him. Turns out there was more to it - the Emperor didn't just remember me from High Rock, he dreamed of me. And that's why, as I said earlier, my life took a different course.

I'm already getting slightly bored of this writing and I feel ready for another ale so I'll avoid mentioning events I find unimportant, like fighting goblins, rats and Mythic Dawn assassins - most of what transpired beneath the prison, is known by now, besides I already forgot some things. What matters is that the Emperor trusted me the most precious amulet there is, namely the Amulet of Kings and personally asked me to find his last son. What kind of man was I, if I wouldn’t fulfill the dying man's last wish? Another thing worth mentioning at this point is Baurus - the Emperor's bodyguard. Baurus who found it strange that the Emperor trusted some prisoner with the Amulet of Kings. Baurus who made sure to tell me that going to Chorrol is of the utmost importance. Baurus who should arrive in half an hour or so to visit us, he lives close, and we'll have ale or two together.

Back to the Third Era... I made it out of the sewers without troubles and of course I couldn't resist trying the Amulet on - it fell off in a second but one could never be too sure, perhaps the Emperor had another son.
That should count as my first writing - I know it's confusing just like my mind. I already decided to dedicate my next entry to wrist irons, or as I preferred to call them back then - "decorations". But now it's time for ale!

What a wonderfully clever and creative introduction of Oberon! Nice job and fun to read the reluctant writings of the ale-adled Breton.

Yeah, Acadian is right, this story is a goldmine, and a treasure trove of detail. The backwards-perspective especially grabs my attention immediately.

Merry Xmas, and happy Festivus for the rest of us.

Fredas, 2:35 am, First Seed 1, 3rd Era 434

Play Time: 200:57:48
Location: Jerall View Inn

Quest: Turning a Blind Eye




"I see you. Hello."

There's something about a good set of armor, even if it's just fur, the preference of outlaws. Kahreem of Weet knows for sure that he'll make a better impression if he's wearing his best. So the Grey Fox wants to meet him now? ... Not a problem. But he wants to look his best. Looking one's best increases one's confidence. And with increased confidence will come increased Septims. And that's what it's all about, right? Increasing one's confidence so one can increase his Septims.

Still, the Weet Bandit wishes he had his wine to glug down before this important moment. But he'd wasted it all a couple hours before, and Olav didn't have any more for sale. How can this be? How can a tavern run out of libations? The answer bursts a moment later. Well it's because the town's all full of drunks! The alcohol ships in on Morndas, but by Fredas it's all been all been guzzled, quaffed, and partaken of. ... and Skingrad, where all the wines (even the cheapest of wine) comes from, is a long way.

"The Grey Fox is waiting for you," says Helvius Cecia.

"Yes, and we can't keep him waiting now, can we?" Kahreem says, before ploughing into the man's cabin.


4:35 am
The smell of smoked ham near a roasting fire. Quaint surroundings, several pieces of dining ware and planters. Nothing to suggest one of the most notorious criminals in all Tamriel is right here in Bruma. How had the man made it here? Had he traveled in disguise the way Kahreem often does? Or is he always here? Living unobtrusively, right under the noses of the Imperial guards. Right under the nose of Countess Narina Carvain. Maybe the Grey Fox never leaves Bruma, just like Ongar the World-Weary never does. Maybe the Grey Fox is Ongar the World-Weary.

Time to find out.

Kahreem marches down those stairs. No, he traipses. No, he accelerates to day's end, hoping he doesn't stumble or falter. That would not make a good impression. Fokke. And not a drop of wine for this moment.

"Come. We must talk."



An Imperial male, wearing what looks to be cheap leather armor, but a magical headpiece with blue, runic lettering.




"So you're the Grey Fox?"

"I have need of your special gifts," the man starts. "There is an item, hidden away in a remote monastery. I need you to go get for me."

"Oh yes, gifts I do have," Kahreem boasts. Good. As long as Sir Fox has heard of Kahreem's accomplishments, not all of his (many) blunders, this is good. "And what would you like me to get?"

"The monastery is extensive, and well-guarded, so you should make sure to be well prepared. Should you succeed, I will pay you well for your--"

-- but for a moment, the Redguard's mind is blank. Pay me. The Grey Fox is going to pay ME.

"--Temple of Ancestor Moths. It is where retired, blind Moth priests go to wait out the rest of their days."

"Days. Moths. Sure." Gold

"I will mark the location on your map. Look for it in the far northeast of Cyrodiil, beyond Cheydinhal."

"Cheydinhal. Mark. Map." GOLD

"I need you to acquire Savilla's Stone. It is a large crystal with special properties that I need to gain ... advantage."

"Advantage. Savilla's Stone. Crystal." GOLD

"Remember, do not shed innocent blood. However, there is no bloodprice for slaying the stone's guardians, human or inhuman."

"Uh... Inhuman?"

"When I receive word that Savilla's Stone is missing, I will be here waiting for you."

"Sure. Waiting. For me. Well, I guess that about wraps it all up, doesn't it, huh huh huh" he says, feeling like the biggest dunce on Nirn. "Say, um. You sound Imperial. You sound familiar. You sound like a guard, matter of fact. Are you a guard? Have we met, peraaps?"

"I don't answer questions about myself," the Grey Fox explodes. "Particularly when they come from a Shadowfoot!"

"Hey hey, calm down. Your secret's safe with me, Lex. Hieronymus Lex, I presume? ... Come on, take off that mask. Take it off!"

But the Imperial does not divulge. And maybe it's a good thing, too. Maybe the man before him isn't Lex at all, or maybe he is. Only one way to find out.

"Shadow hide you."

Kahreem of Weet agrees.

This post has been edited by Renee: Dec 26 2015, 04:33 PM

@Acadian & Renee - thanks for your kind and encouraging words!

I've been waiting anxiously for the moment when Kahreem meets the Grey Fox. You wrote it very well, inserting funny words and lines on occasion, I especially liked the part when the Grey Fox is giving instructions but all Kahreem hears, is gold and more gold. If you liked the TG questline up to this point, then get ready, because the best is yet to come. Nice pic of the Grey Fox's mask, I already forgot that it has a runed inscription.

--

II

Known to break promises, I broke one as soon as I came out of the sewers. But at least I had a good reason. So instead of heading straight for Chorrol, I was busy with stealing diaries about carnivorous plants. The ghost of Uriel Septim was rolling his eyes as he saw me doing that but the reason behind it all were decorations on my hands, namely the wrist irons, a must-to-wear for every prisoner. Poetic. When they throw you in jail, you get irons on and you only get them off when you’re released. Officially. Since I walked out of the prison unofficially, nobody could take my irons off and I had to take care around guards, since they’d immediately know that I’m an escapee, gladly accuse me of breaking the law on their watch, wishing me best wishes of rotting in jail as they’d drag me there again. So irons had to be removed before I could begin my enlightened mission.

I was mostly a stranger in the Imperial City back then, I’ve only been there once when I was a boy, but some things don’t change with time and the Waterfront is one of such things. There nobody cared about my decorations but going to other districts would be calling for unwanted attention. The innkeeper of the Black Rook told me that I can get my irons removed by a certain individual, for a price of course, yet since I couldn’t afford paying it, I had to perform a service for this individual who turned out to be Armand Christophe. Armand temporarily casted illusive magic on my irons to make them disappear but in return I had to steal the diary of Amantius Allectus till sunrise. At that point I met Amusei and Methredhel, but unlike me, they had no wrist irons on, but were competing to join the T.G.

Methredhel was quicker than me – she knew where Allectus lived while I had to ask beggars to find his place. Ragbag Buntara was the one that pointed me in the right direction and with all the gold I gave to her, she hopefully git hasself a pay of shuzz by now! So - by the time I made my way inside Allectus’ house, I witnessed pretty Methredhel taking the diary out of the lectern. But agent Oberon doesn’t give up just like that – many hours later, while she was triumphantly sleeping in her shack on the Waterfront, I sneaked in, picked a lock on her chest (a chest as a box, not a chest as her bosom – an explanation for the slow ones out there) and took the diary. Once again Ragbag Buntara was the one who told me where Methredhel lives and she even had a knack of her sleeping habits. This also means I was poorer for five more septims.

The following night not only I had my wrist irons removed officially but I joined the T.G. as well. Armand didn’t really give me a choice, I was announced as a follower of the Grey Fox. While back then I didn’t intend to do any more business with them, Armand nonetheless gave me Ongar’s address in Bruma in case I ever felt in a mood to snatch some stuff.

Renee – Who knew? After all, could there possibly a better secret identity for the Fox than Hieronymus Lex? Simply brilliant!

Lopov - Clever ideas about the prison wrist irons. Glad to see Oberon free of his now.

R - So, Kahreem likes gold, eh? Surely, this is news to me



L - I´m glad I got the explanation there. Couldn´t really fathom the idea that 'chest' could mean 'container'...

I love this thread so much.

Renee, I didn’t know that Renee’s given name is Lucitia. That is awesome. What a meeting between Kahreem and the Grey Fox! His thoughts are so fun to read. This may be my favorite Weet Bandit update yet!

Lopov, I love what you’re doing with the book of Oberon’s memories. Having it turn up in Skyrim delivered to Urag by a student is pure genius. Great solution to the problem of his “decorations.”