Kothet's Story, A dremora in Skyrim, and his housecarl. Options

[ghastley]

Kothet was a (dead) character in the Gweden Brothel mod. He was the Dremora Valkynaz who owned Prizna, before she killed him and escaped. I resurrected him to be the test character for the Dremora Hearthfires mod for Skyrim, and he hung around a bit longer than expected.

Since a Dremora in Skyrim normally only wears a special version of Daedric armour (with reduced stats) he can't use most regular armour, so his story reflects that limitation, and the gear he does use is the same as the houscarl can use in my mod, which was of course added to the game as wearable by a Dremora.

The housecarl's combat style and equipment are set by the mod to complement the abilities of the player character, so a mage, defined as a player who has higher magicka than health or stamina, wil get an archer housecarl. An archer ( a non-mage with Marksman skill above one- or two-handed) gets a melee housecarl, and others get a mage. Kothet's preference is two-handed, although he starts off using a one-handed weapon with a spell in the other. The spell-book offers three choices of housecarl - male, regular female, and sexy female. The last of those wears skimpier outfits, and has the sultry voice rather than the commander voice.

Kothet's story is already well under way, and I'll start to post more episodes here once I finish posting Clark's. There's a link at the top for those who've forgotten about Prizna's interview with Clark. I linked to the copy here, not the one on my site with the nude picture of her.

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1 - Helgen

I can understand the Stormcloaks deciding to hide in my cave. The entrance is well-concealed, which is why I chose it. And it stays that way, if I'm careful how I enter, and don't leave obvious footprints outside.

I can understand how the pursuing Imperials found them, too. What I can't understand is why the Imperials think I'm one of them. Seriously, how many Stormcloaks have horns?

I'm not talking about helmets here. My horns are on my head, just like any of the Kyn. But we are few in Tamriel, so maybe they've never seen a Dremora before.

Whatever they were thinking, we all ended up on the same cart headed for Helgen. I presume I was vocal about the Imperials' incompetence in including me, because I don't remember much about the journey, just waking with a sore head as we approached the town. By that time, I'd given up trying to make our captors actually think. They were military, which would generally mean that thinking was for officers only.

---

I know this because once, I was an officer. In Mehrunes Dagon's forces, I led the attack that took Ganonah, the city the locals call Kvatch. Which is why I got the blame when it was taken back, even though I wasn't there at the time. I was the officer, so I should have forseen the possibility, and not left the place under the command of a subordinate . Even though Dagon himself had sent me elsewhere, on an assignment beneath my station.

To make matters worse, the woman I'd been given as a reward for my success at Ganonah had turned on me. Admittedly, I'd probably been unfair in the way I treated her. Anger at Dagon can't be directed towards him, and she probably got the worst of my frustration. I was on guard duty - me, a Valkynaz, on guard duty! - inside the gate we'd opened near Bravil. That's where she killed me. A mere woman struck me down, with shock spells to weaken me, and a final blow from a mace! I was so proud of the way she did it, but of course, unable to tell her until I was restored.

And then, equally, I was in no position to do so, because I was somewhere else in Tamriel. I have no idea how long I was in the heatless flames of Oblivion waiting for restoration, but I expected to be restored in the Deadlands, in familiar territory. Clearly I'd lost even more of Dagon's regard by being slain by my own woman, and he'd sent me to guard another gate, this time from the outside.

I'd only been there a few hours, when the fire in the gate suddenly ceased, meaning the gate was closed, and I was stuck in the mortal world until Dagon decided to recall me. Given his recent actions, I did not imagine that happening soon.

---

Two centuries later, I'm still here. Each time I die, I'm restored to Tamriel, not the Deadlands. So stripping off my armour and wrestling a bear wasn't as much use as I thought it would be. It just lost me some useful equipment, and I had to replace it with lesser things that mortals had made. Since then, I've learned to make my own.

When these Imperial clowns have finished with me, I'll need to make some more, as they took everything when they put us on the carts. Since I'd just crawled out of my bedroll when the Stormcloaks arrived, I wasn't even wearing my armour, and they gave me some crude sack-cloth things to cover myself.

I can see Helgen gates now, so it looks like we'll be there in a few minutes. Hopefully there will be a competent officer in charge, and I'll be released.

---

The horse-thief the soldiers had rounded up with us didn't have any confidence in officers, and tried to run as soon as we got off the carts. He died in a volley of arrows.

There was a legionary calling the roll of prisoners, and lining us up for the General. I'd heard of this Tullius, and he seemed like a man who could think. I was confident that their mistake would soon be rectified.

Obviously, my name wasn't on their list. They didn't even know it yet, because I hadn't told them. The unthinking grunts hadn't asked; it wasn't their job. The legionary asked his commander, a woman, what he should do. This was as it should be, pass the decision-making up the chain, and do not take responsibility on yourself. I expected her in turn to ask Tullius, but she decided that she didn't need to bother him with this level of decision, and arbitrarily condemned me to join the others in line for the block.

Part of me admired her confidence in her own decisions, but most of me just wanted to kill her. I stared at the Captain, learning her features so I would know her if we met again. No, when we met again. Even if I had to return from the dead to kill her, and of course I would do so.

I was the second to the block. It had me thinking that I might even be returned before all the executions were complete, and how beautiful would be the justice if I could place her head on this very block in my next life. But then the dragon came, and everything was confusion.

---

I found myself running into a tower with one of the Stormcloaks. My hands were still bound, and he had nothing to cut the ropes. How he'd got his own free, I wasn't sure. We went looking for weapons, and eventually found some. With my hands loose, and an axe in one of them, I could determine my own fate.

And fate led my nemesis to me. The same Captain led a small group of Imperials into the chamber, and my Stormcloak allies helped me deliver justice. I took her armour, adjusted the straps to suit my very different shape, and put it on. Her ample chest meant that she wore a size large enough to protect a male, but it wasn't quite the right shape. I discarded the top half, even though it was plate that might have melted down. There was no smelter or forge here.

Ralof laughed when I tried it on. "We'll no doubt find you some more as we go further in," he predicted. "Probably not plate, but the regular Imperial armour isn't too bad. Of course, I can understand you not wanting to be mistaken for one of them. Especially not for a woman!"

I felt the thought he hadn't expressed. The hope that I wouldn't get the chance to take any Stormcloak amour. He didn't want to find any fallen comrades on our way out.

---

Some did fall, but they were crushed by the collapse of part of the buildings just after we passed, and out of our reach. I managed to add a basic long bow and some iron arrows, from an Imperial archer, but didn't bother to trade any armour. His covered more, but was thinner. We both picked up some potions, lockpicks and minor items as we passed through the cave beyond the dungeons. Some of those arrows went into fighting spiders and a bear.

Ralof and I parted company at the exit to the cave. He was going to head for another small town called Riverwood, where his sister lived. I was more inclined to try and head back towards my cave. I'd survived well enough in Tamriel by keeping away from the people, so going into town wasn't my first choice.

But I wasn't familiar with this part of Skyrim, so I ended up finding myself in the same town I was trying to avoid. It seemed that all the trails on this side of Helgen lead to the same place.

---

I went into the general store, hoping to trade some of the Imperial military junk I'd picked up for something a bit less tied to one side of the Civil War. I walked into the middle of an argument betwen the shopkeeper and his sister about something that had been stolen. Since he didn't seem to want to discuss trade until that subject was dealt with, I found myself agreeing to look for the missing item. I really had no intention of going to look for it, but his description intrigued me. It seemed to resemble a Clannfear Claw, something I hadn't seen for decades. I wondered if it actually was one that had been gilded as a trophy.

I got a decent trade for my goods, so apparently my agreement had put him in a good mood. His sister pointed out Bleak Falls Barrow on the hills at the other side of the valley as the likely place it had been taken. The map I'd bought put it on one of the trails that crossed the hills towards Whiterun, and I had to pass near that city to get back to the Rift and my cave. It was a bit longer that way, but why not take a look?

I suppose I was also looking forward to the prospect of some combat. There would be bandits this way, the ones that had stolen the claw at least, and the other route was a well-used road that would be relatively boring. I headed for the hills.

This post has been edited by ghastley: Jul 18 2016, 06:07 PM

[ghastley]

Acadian: Kothet thinks in military terms. If he's attacking my enemies, he's an ally, ... for now.

hazmick: Kothet's been waiting a long time himself. And he wasn't the one who attacked a watchtower the moment he was awakened.

Renee: Don't mention seams to someone who makes outfits for Skyrim characters.

mALX: I'm sure Kothet can't keep a straight face for too long. And the people of Whiterun only get freaked out by curved swords.

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Previously: Kothet discovered that he was "dragonborn" - a term that made little sense to him. He declined Lydia's offer to accompany him, and set off for his cave in the Rift.

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4 - Lost Valley

I hadn't gone much further up the road, when a courier came running up to me, and handed me a sealed letter. He left immediately, headed back towards Whiterun.

I broke open the seal and read the letter.

I knew that there were other Dremora in Tamriel, but we were few and widely scattered. We'd not made any attempt to gather, as we were held in great suspicion individually, and a group of us would immediately have been considered a threat. So it was a great surprise to discover that the letter was from the Kyn.

I read that part again. It didn't actually say that these Kyn were in Tamriel. I'd just assumed that, because I'd been given the letter by a courier here. Perhaps there was a way they could have sent it from Dagon's Deadlands. It wasn't clear.

The letter told me of a Nordic Tower, in the hills of the Reach, bordering High Rock and Hammerfell. If I'd go and fix the place up, and furnish it as a home, then I'd get a Dremora for a housecarl. Someone who'd fight alongside me for the right reasons, to command respect. And not a pale Nord woman who didn't even have her horns yet.

Wait, they don't grow horns, do they? It's not a sign of immaturity to be without any, it's just normal for them. Still, a companion of my own kind would definitely be preferable.

The Tower was back in the direction I was coming from, so did I really want to turn around and retrace my steps? My cave, and High Hrothgar, were both in the direction I was already going.

"My cave" was the home I'd known for years, but it wasn't exactly a palace. And it didn't come with a housecarl, not even a mortal one. High Hrothgar could wait, too. I turned around.

---

A dirt path led off the road toward a small stream flowing from a pond. The pond, in turn, was fed by a waterfall from a long way above. I could see stonework up at the top, but it was too far to make out any buildings. Some mudcrabs were lurking near the ford, as if they were guarding the Nirnroot that grew there. Their shells are useful for alchemy, so I harvested them, and their Nirnroot.

The path continued up some stone steps and crossed the falls between one cascade and the next. I could now see another cascade ahead, not part of this one, and it came from an artificial structure that channelled the water away from the path. Perhaps this path was the original route of the water before someone diverted it? Or maybe it just flooded too often.

I mounted another flight of steps, and still didn't see any signs that this place was inhabited. But it was bare, and rocky, with steep cliffs, so maybe everyone was up at the top. There had to be some level ground somewhere, or why build here at all?

Further up, I found evidence that someone had been here reasonably recently. There was a tripwire strung across the path, and I'm sure that would have been broken by a deer or a goat before long. Someone has to restring those, and reset the traps.

I broke it deliberately, and watched the boulders roll across the path. The noise of that should have brought the inhabitants to investigate, if they were close enough. And if not, at least it wouldn't be a danger when I came back down.

I was beginning to get impatient for combat. It would be easier to defeat whoever lived here if they came at me one or two at a time. I knew they'd be hostile, even before I encountered them, as friendly people don't set traps for their visitors. I didn't have to wait long. A man dressed in furs, and wearing the horns of a deer, came rushing at me with a couple of stone-toothed swords. He proved remarkably resilient to my mace, and took a couple of blows to subdue.

It was almost a pity to kill the woman archer who opposed me next. Her furs covered even less than the man's and she appeared to be quite shapely and fit. She'd have made an excellent slave, if only she'd yielded when I told her to do so.

Now I was climbing between walls, rather than bare rock, and there were more signs of habitation. A grindstone was next to the path, presumably down here so they could sharpen their weapons after battle without going all the way back up. On it was a man's body, dressed like one of the local Nords, rather than wearing the fur garb I'd seen on those attacking me. Perhaps he'd climbed up here before me and found himself equally unwelcome.

And I was now having to dodge arrows, fired from the walls above me. More of the sword-wielders ran down to greet me, also. No, that one had an axe in one hand, but still it's two weapons at once. I knew how to deal with that style already, and sword or axe makes little difference.

The archers again were female, one quite remarkably so. Those breasts were worthy of a Dremora, and almost burst out of her inadequate furs. She didn't wish to yield, either.

The area I'd reached, which I estimated was about half-way up, was flat and partially paved. Most of it, however, was taken up by a large rectangular pool. There were steps leading down into the water, and I could see fish swimming in it. Clearly they caught and ate the fish, as several were hanging up to dry out on a nearby rack. And there were hide tents around, so at least the fishermen must have slept down here.

Some of the walls turned out to be channels for the water from the pool, which fed the waterfalls below. Most of the others were apparently fortifications, and provided vantage points for the archers. None of them seemed to form part of any inhabited buildings, and certainly nothing that resembled the tower I was supposed to find.

The waterfall that fell into the pool appeared to come from between two stone pillars, and there was another stone structure in the middle, which was hard to make out in all the spray. It didn't look like anything anyone could live in, and from down here, I could not see how you could reach it.

Steps to the left of the pool led further up, so that's the way I went. As expected, there were more tripwires, and more opposition. And these people lived in hide tents, too. There was a forge, and other crafting equipment up here, so I'd have expected buildings, not just defensive walls.

The man that came at me next looked a little different from the ones before, and it took a moment before I saw why that was. He only had a sword in one hand, and the other was gathering flames to hurl at me. The Kyn live among flames, so that was little threat, but presumably it was the only destruction spell he knew. Or else, he'd never seen one of us before, and knew no better. Probably that, as he started to gather a frost spell when the first proved ineffective.

I didn't let him finish. Not that I fear frost, but there was no point in prolonging his life. I didn't care if he wanted to yield, after all. I noticed as I checked his corpse for loot, that he had no heart. It had been removed, and a piece of plant material put in its place. I took this briarheart, as I assumed it had magical power.

As I climbed what looked to be the last set of steps, I could see the top of the waterfall. There was a small ridge of islands dividing the river in two, connected by bridges to each other and the banks. The central bridges ended at a platform overlooking the pool below. That was the structure I'd seen from below, and I still had no idea of its purpose.

In the other direction I could hear chanting, and it didn't seem to be human voices. Or elven, for that matter, or Khajiit or Argonian. Whatever the creatures were, they had nothing to do with my reason for being here, so I crossed the bridge to continue looking for the tower.

And there was one right ahead of me, with a brazier burning at the bottom of a ramp that led up the outside. It looked like someone was already living here.

Something, I should have said. Although it might have been a human once, this looked more like a bird. One that threw fireballs, too. I ducked back out of the door and avoided the blast. It didn't get another chance, as I ran in and struck with my mace before another fireball could be readied. The claws she - yes I think that's the right word - used were nearly as bad, and I needed to heal myself after I'd finished her. I climbed up the stairs inside, and after nearly being hit by a gem trap throwing shock, reached a tiny platform at the top, where I found nothing but a bird's nest with an egg in it.

And a view of another tower, just a bit further up the mountain. This was not the tower I'd been looking for. That was. Hopefully emptier than this one.

This post has been edited by ghastley: Aug 22 2016, 01:46 PM