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]

haute: He's different, but not too different, I hope. That is, he thinks the same way, but starts from a different place than any mortal.

Acadian: I'm sure the pair would rather have taken a Bosmer with them, but he was all that was on offer.

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Previously: Kothet and co. have gone to Eldergleam Sanctuary to collect sap from the great tree, but they've picked up a sapling instead.

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15 - Riften

We left him at the Sanctuary, and headed back to Whiterun. I presented the sapling to Danica, who wasn't too happy. She'd been expecting the sap, and to get the old Gildergreen back. I told her what Maurice had told me, and she began to see the point. When I added my own insights, especially the comparison between Dagon's methods and Kynareth's, she came around. It wouldn't be the same tree, but it would be young and fresh, and could grow into a new Gildergreen, given time.

---

That was the last of my obligations fulfilled, except for the trip to visit the Greybeards. I wasn't going there until I had my Daedric armour, and I still couldn't make ebony. What had Ghorza told me? Balimund in Riften could train me further, so that is where I should go next.

We took the carriage. I'd already walked half-way there before, twice, and it was the destination, not the journey, that mattered. I expected we'd find reason to explore the area nearer Riften after we got there. It would not have surprised me to find that this Balimund would need me to do something before he'd give me training.

Well, he did have a request, but it wasn't a pre-requisite for anything. His forge needed fire salts, and he'd like me to bring him ten units of the stuff. If I had the coin, he'd train me, but higher-level training costs more, and I couldn't afford as much as I'd have liked. Still, the ability to forge ebony was getting closer. He warned me that he couldn't train me that far. I'd still have to do more work on my own.

Two of the townsfolk had requests to make that fit in with my plans. I needed to collect dwarven metal, so that I could make more bows, and practice my smithing. Mjoll gave me directions to a dwarven ruin in the north where she'd lost her sword, Grimsever. An Argonian woman, down at the docks, had the opposite to ask me. She wanted an item taken back to a dwarven ruin. Avanchnzel was closer, so we went there first.

I must admit that I quite like dwarven ruins. Perhaps it's just the way that the metal rings when I crush one of the automata with my war-hammer, or that it's particularly effective against them.

My companion doesn't appear to share my opinion. They resist her spells, and the spiders remind her too much of the live ones. At least I assume that's why she glares at them with obvious hatred. And although they resist the fire, when a fireball hits them, they fall apart quite nicely. So she hits the spiders, and I take the spheres.

We found ghosts in the ruin, but they weren't hostile, Maybe apparitions would be a better description, too, as one of them appeared to be From-Deepest-Fathoms, the woman who'd sent us her. She didn't appear to be dead, when we'd talked to her in Riften. Or did Argonians get restored, like the Kyn? I didn't think so. The Nords don't, and two of the ghosts were Nords.

We saw them several times as we worked our way through the maze of hallways and chambers. They'd clearly encountered the automata, too, as we overheard comments about the dormant creatures as we progressed. Apparently, they'd been woken up by this party, and we were having to deal with more than they did. There were four of them, and only two of us, but we were Dremora, so that counted for more. I hoped it was enough, as the ghosts seemed to be having an increasingly hard time of it.

We did have the advantage that they'd marked a few of the traps with their dead bodies. We found Drennen first, but it wasn't clear what had killed him. Perhaps the automata had caught him, when he left the group to turn back.

Watches-the-Roots, the Argonian who was apparently leading the expedition, had fallen to a blade trap on one of the ramps. Seeing his body lying at the end of a long slot on the floor made me suspicious, and I'd gone down to investigate along the wall, staying as far from that slot as I could. A lever at the end turned the whirling blade on and off. A couple more steps, and he'd have reached it. Perhaps one of his companions had, as the other two must have passed here.

The final "trap" was a huge dwarven centurion, guarding the lexicon stand we'd come to find. The body of Breya lay at his feet, where she'd fallen, as From-Deepest-Fathoms had escaped up the stairs beyond.

Another centurion lay broken next to her. I wondered if she'd managed to defeat that one, or if it had been like that when the first party arrived.

We had only one to deal with, but those things are big! It appeared to shrug off the fireballs that struck it, and stomped in our direction. I pointed to an alcove for her to duck into if the thing fired anything back at us, and I charged. Its blast of steam went over my head as I connected with my first swing. A fireball exploded above me, too, helping to put the machine off-balance. I kept swinging, as hard as I could. I aimed at the joints, hoping at least to cripple it in case I needed to withdraw.

Fortunately, I didn't. Our combined attack had been enough, or perhaps just well-enough timed, and it fell. I placed the lexicon on its stand, and looked back to see if I was alone. That blast of steam hadn't been aimed at me. Her head appeared around the corner she'd ducked behind, and she ran to catch up again.

The cube of the Lexicon had opened, and the inner sphere was spinning and glowing. It felt like I was learning something, but I wasn't sure what it was. The feeling was not unlike what I'd experienced at the word walls, where I'd learned words of the Dragon language. I wasn't hearing anything in my head, this time, just getting the same sensation of extra knowledge.

And it had something to do with smithing, I was sure. This had been the right place to come first.

---

We didn't need to go back to Riften before continuing to Mzinchaleft. It would have been quicker, perhaps, to go back and take the carriage, but we had some exploring to do on the way to Dawnstar. I hadn't been to Ivarstead, the village at the foot of the seven thousand steps that led to High Hrothgar. Although I wasn't planning to make the climb for some time, I'd like to see what it looked like from the bottom. From there, we could travel north and cross the road that we'd taken from Whiterun to Darkwater Crossing. If I recalled the signs, we'd be headed for Windhelm, but I suspected we'd meet the road to Dawnstar before we got there.

A little before we could see Windhelm, the weather started to get cold, and the first flakes of snow began to drift down. My armour kept me fairly well insulated from both heat and cold, but a certain lady had been wearing progressively less, and I was wondering if she'd return to something warmer.

Apparently mages can keep themselves warm by magic, as she didn't cover up, and she wasn't shivering. Perhaps it's an enchantment on the robe? I hoped there wasn't any illusion involved. I wanted what I was seeing to be real!

We'd passed a mill, and several side-roads that may have led off to other adventures, but we hadn't taken them. Now we were approaching another mill, and we hadn't met anything more challenging than a couple of wolves all the way here. That made me uncomfortable, as it usually meant that life was saving up trouble to throw at us all at once.

As if to confound me, an Argonian in tight leather approached, with two swords drawn, and murder on his mind. He didn't even get close enough to swing, as a fireball knocked him backwards before I could get the war-hammer off my back. I found a note on his body that said that the Dark Brotherhood had a contract to kill me. They didn't know who wanted me dead, just that the ritual had been performed. That made no sense. Killing me wouldn't achieve very much. Did they think they were dealing with a mortal?

It did make me ponder for a while, though. I knew that I could re-summon my companion if she was taken from me. I would do all I could to prevent that, however, as I was sure she'd prefer not to have that experience too often. But if I had to be restored, would I still have that ability? Did I need to preserve myself for her? From what I'd seen fighting conjurers, their summons were dispelled when they died, so the same would probably happen for us.

This post has been edited by ghastley: Nov 7 2016, 10:10 PM