Today in Skyrim..., Epic battles, mudcrab sightings, anything but spoilers. What did your Options

[Acadian]

Illusion mind control stuff does pair nicely with a stealthy mage like Buffy. Dual casting the mind control spells dramatically improves their potency (as far as level of foes affected). But the mind control side of illusion is definitely an 'all or none' proposition - fully perk it, dual cast it and work on leveling the skill. Oh, and the stealthy mind control user tactics don't play well with companions; it just asks too much of them when you cause a big fight but expect them to silently sit back and watch with you.

[McBadgere]

It was using Muffle on dungeon diving stuff that sent my Illusion up fairly quick...

J'Zirlo is now Level 67!...Aweome tank-cat!!!... ...

Currently just walking from Whiterun to Riften...'Cause that's just what you do, i'n't it?...

I've already been attacked by a random Imperial with a swag goatee, so hey, today's going well... ...

[Destri Melarg]

I intended her to use Illusion more, but find the spells available make it hard to level up the skill.

Spoiler Alert!

This post has been edited by Destri Melarg: Feb 5 2015, 09:40 AM

[Grits]

McB, yay for J’Zirlo and welcome back! I know exactly which cart you mean -- awesome find!

Renee, good luck to Stormcloak Claire. The only mod I found for that looked iffy, so I didn’t risk it. It’s “You Are Not the Dragonborn” or something like that on the Nexus.

ghastley, I’m glad I’m not the only one with unruly test characters. I think the Nord who became Arch-Mage while only meeting one orc must be some kind of record. I love it when characters say nope and just take off on their own.

Lopov, I especially enjoyed the closeup of doomed Ihjizz’s face. What a great update! I loved it!

[Lopov]

Lopov, this was dark, mysterious and actually hilarious all at the same time! Despite the dark theme, I imagine you had great fun writing this!

Thanks! Indeed, I had fun writing it, sometimes writing is even more fun than gaming.

Lopov, I especially enjoyed the closeup of doomed Ihjizz’s face. What a great update! I loved it!

Thanks! Ihjizz should know better and watch both sides of the road.

In the following story there are some pics of people with underwear - nothing too revealing, mostly vanilla stuff. But if it offends someone, then don't click on the pics. Also, the dark one might be difficult to spot in two or three pics.
--
Gord… was bored.

But being on guard at night had its advantages – the pay was better and he didn’t need to sleep next to his nagging wife who snored worse than an Orc Matriarch. Fortunately, not many visitors came to Falkreath during days and even less during nights, and lately there weren’t many battles between the Legion and Stormcloaks going on in the hold, so Gord’s job was quite simple. Besides, there were other guards doing rounds in Falkreath, so in case something bad happened, he’d get help immediately.

But how can defend himself not against the bad but against the worst?

It jumped from a hill east of the gates, almost invisible in the dark night. Gord didn’t notice it at all. Not long after, while he was still thinking about how calm that night is, someone was sneaking up to him…

Vigg was another guard on duty that night and his assignment was to patrol the main road leading through Falkreath. Not long after the black shadow rose over Falkreath, he came to the east gate but his friend Gord wasn’t at his usual post.

“Hmm…where did Gord go? Maybe behind a tree to answer the call of Kynareth he he he. He should be back soon.”

And Vigg was right. When he came to the east gate twenty minutes later, Gord was indeed there, guarding the gate, standing at his post as he was supposed to.

“Everything all right, Gord?” asked Vigg.

“Mhmm,” he heard from under Gord’s helmet.

“Good. Same here. It’s a quiet night, isn’t it? If only my knee wouldn’t hurt so much because of that arrow I took the other day. I already told you that I used to be an adventurer, right?”

Gord said nothing. Vigg waited for a few seconds, hoping for another chance to tell Gord about his adventuring days but it seemed that he wasn’t in a right mood.

“Khajiit got your tongue?” asked Vigg, still not losing hope that Gord might take pity on him and allow him to brag about his past deeds.

Just one “Mhmm,” came from under Gord’s helmet.

“Fine, fine. I’ll tell you about it some other day. I’m sure you still don’t know that I single-handedly killed almost two giants once?”

Silence.

Vigg rolled his eyes and decided to do another round, maybe guard at the west gates will be more interested in his tales. But as Vigg was walking down the road, passing the carriage driver, the silent guard slowly turned around and left his usual post. He was walking behind his “friend” Vigg, continuing down the main road, passing the carriage driver, heading straight to inner Falkreath.

At that time Kust, a monk working at the Temple of Arkay, was returning from the Dead Man’s Drink when he met two guards, the first one was Vigg who greeted Kust in his usual manner and the second one was another male who didn’t pay any attention to Kust. As he passed both of them, he stopped and turned around, looking at the second guard. “Hmm...this guard…he sure is a slim one.” Kust knew all guards from Falkreath and although he couldn’t know who was behind a helmet, because all of them had to wear fully closed helmets when on duty, he knew that most of them were muscular.

“Maybe we have a new guard in town. But why do I get a feeling that this guard wanted to avoid me when he saw me passing in his direction. Odd.” He looked at the guard one more time but he was already too far, close to Grave Concoctions. “Yeah, he’s a man, that’s for sure. But there’s something else about him that doesn’t feel right…what is it, damn it? Ah, well, I better go to sleep, I’m just paranoid. I see intruders everywhere because of this bloody war!”

Dorman, a guard in charge of guarding exterior of bootlicker Jarl Siddgeir’s longhouse, saw the silent guard, and just like Kust he noticed that he is very slim and that his fur boots were obviously too big for him because he had some trouble walking in them. For the same reasons as Kust, Dorman couldn’t know who was behind the helmet, but he didn’t seem familiar. As the guard went behind the corner of Jarl’s longhouse, Dorman suddenly remembered something that he saw when the guard passed under a lantern. “Hold on,” he thought, “just hold on for a second, Dorman. This guard had…!”

Not even a scream of pain was heard in the dark night when the bound dagger played its deadly song again, so sweet and pleasant to his wielder.

When Vigg later returned down the main road, disappointed because even the guard at west gate wasn’t interested in a tale of how he once decapitated an undead chicken that threatened Riverwood, he noticed that Dorman was gone from outside the longhouse but didn’t pay much attention to it. “He’s probably inside to see if Jarl Siddgeir is still breathing, long live the Empire!” In his worst dreams Vigg couldn’t imagine that Dorman was no longer alive, his throat cut, his corpse hidden behind an alchemy shop.

As he continued his route to the east gates, the slim guard came from behind the shop, Dorman’s blood still dripping from his hands. He crouched in front of the alchemy shop and unleashed fire from his hands, burning the lock of Grave Concoctions. The doorknob was still hot when he touched it and silently sneaked inside…

He quickly found what was he looking for – a common potion of cure disease. Although he was used to sleep during days and roam during nights, he didn’t want to become a bloodsucker after being bitten by a master vampire at the Shriekwind Bastion. He knew very well that potions were his only means of healing because Divines cursed him long ago, just as they did anyone else that lived a life like his.

But does one need Gods if it walks side by side with evil?

Beside the potion there was something else that got his attention. Zaria, the proprietor, was sleeping quietly; not having the faintest idea about the man in guard’s armor watching her so close that she could almost feel his breath on her body.

After watching her for some time, playing with ideas what he could do to her to make her surprised in the morning, the man in guard’s armor silently unbuttoned the Falkreath cape on his back and slowly placed it over Zaria’s body, buttoning it up in front of her neck. Zaria flinched, feeling something but the man in guard’s armor was a skilled one and with his skills it wasn’t difficult to gently place the cape over her body without waking her up.

But he didn’t do it to make her comfortable or warm. No, no, he did it to prove to himself that he could do it. A twisted smile was playing on his lips behind the closed helmet helmet as he was slowly stepping backwards out of the shop, admiring Zaria’s body in the cape with an emblem of the deer’s head.

Twenty minutes later armor of Falkreath was tossed on a ground next to dead Gord and his assassin already changed back to his black outfit. Leaving Falkreath, he walked up the main road, satisfied with him. It was all about to get the potion but why not make it a little more interesting than merely stealing it?

Because life without walking on the edge is not worth living.

[Acadian]

Lopov, certainly a. . . different approach to potion shopping. I chuckled over the guard’s tale of battling an undead chicken. The Dark One does indeed seem to be motivated by something evil, yet here we did learn that he is not a bloodsucker. The mystery continues.

[Renee]

As soon as 'Gord' came back 20 minutes later I was thinking it's gotta be the dark one, imitating the former Gord! Hehe heaha. I like the guard who wants to brag with someone, problem is nobody wants to hear his stupid tales.

What a creepy story, Scoundrel. I mean that as a compliment. That's more creepy than the time Mycharonna murdered most of the residents of Karthwasten long ago.

In that second pic, is the dark one way in the background? I think I see a shadow of a figure way back near that big rock. Aw, he gives her his cape at the end. That must be nice.

This post has been edited by Renee Gade IV: Feb 8 2015, 01:10 PM

[Lopov]

Thank you both.

Acadian, true, he's not a vampire and if he wasn't infected at the Shriekwind Bastion, the whole adventure in Falkreath probably wouldn't occur at all, it wasn't in plan, so to speak.

You're probably right, Renee, but I brightened up the second pic so you can see him easier behind Gord, having just jumped from the rock.

This post has been edited by Lopov: Feb 8 2015, 06:15 PM

[Lopov]

It was a fine sunny day in Falkreath Hold, a day for joy and song, a day for adventure and fortune, and Talsgar the Wanderer was walking down the road by Lake Ilinalta, composing a new song in his mind, one that should be about love instead of war. There've been too many battle songs sung all over Skyrim already and Talsgar wanted to offer his audience something different, something bright, trying to tell the world that while wars pass with time, love lasts forever.

But it was difficult to concentrate and think about beauty when on almost every step he found proofs of battling. This time he was distracted by an ash pile in the grass on his left. Talsgar stepped closer and noticed a lot of jewelry lying in the ash pile. The bard knew that once the body turns to ash, it is only the body that is destroyed while anything else remains untouched. He couldn't help but feel sad for whoever this person was before becoming...ash.

"Rest in peace, unknown traveler," said Talsgar and stood up. He may snatch a thing or two in his young days but now that he was older and wiser, he never stole anything and he never took anything from the dead. He found it odd that whoever turned this person to ash, didn't take its shining trinkets as it was customary for Skyrim's bandits and necromancers. He felt sadness in his heart as he moved further on, to Falkreath.

A few hours earlier...

"Come along, no more stops, we need to find our way to Solitude!" said Plautius Carvain, scolding his wife because she wanted to stop again to "catch some breath", as she used to say.

"Why are we even going to a wedding at this far flung end of the Empire anyway?" asked Salonia Carvain, regretting the decision that she decided to accompany her husband on some Nord's wedding all the way to the north of Tamriel.

"I told you, it's the wedding of Vittoria Vicci, an extremely well connected merchant with the East Empire Company. The Emperor's cousin? Remember? Hopefully these gifts will put us in her good graces, secure that import deal, and lead the way to an audience with the Emperor," answered Plautius, annoyed that he had to tell his wife at least one hundred times that it is very important for his, actually for their future, to attend the wedding.

The Carvains were nobles of Bruma and they made their living as merchants. Plautius hailed from the well-known Carvain family that used to rule over Bruma in the past, and he was a very successful merchant. But that was before the Great War. Many things changed for him afterwards and he made some unwise deals that cost him a fortune, so it was crucial for him to get in touch with people of importance because he knew that only a partnership with a good standing company can save his financial troubles. To make sure that Vittoria Vicci would remember him and perhaps introduce him to the Emperor, he took the finest jewelry from his family's treasury, hoping to make the good impression which shall mark the beginning of a fruitful partnership.

They were traveling with a bodyguard from Bruma but his grumpy wife Salonia was convinced that the guard fancied her and she convinced Plautius to dismiss him so they've been traveling alone since ruins of Helgen. It shouldn't last long, though, because Plautius hired a carriage in advance that was waiting for them in Falkreath. Not only because they got lost way too often but also because he was tired of his wife's complaining. It was the cheapest possible carriage so it probably won't be too comfortable but anything was better than more walking and listening to Salonia.

They passed the dark one without noticing him. Even during daytime, his black robes blended with dark rocks of Skyrim. As soon as he laid his eyes on them, their fate was sealed.

...

"Let's rest for a while!" said Salonia and stopped walking. "I need to catch some breath!"

"Alright, alright, but only for a few minutes, understand? I hired a carriage for us in Falkreath and I don't want that it departs without us because you're catching for breath ever since we left Bruma?"

"Then why haven't you hired the carriage from Bruma?"

"Because...well, you know, that we couldn't afford it! The ones in Skyrim are much cheaper."

"But certainly not as luxurious. I have a feeling that they're covered in mud and dirt."

"We will get through it, okay? Once we're in Falkreath, we won't need to walk anymore and within a few days..."

"Plautius! Behind you! He has a knife!"

Plautius turned around and in that time the bound dagger struck but by sheer luck Plautius began running and thus avoided the killing blow.

"Run, Salonia, run! To the forest! I will deal with him. I hope!"

Neither Plautius nor Salonia were fighters and he immediately regretted listening to his wife for dismissing the loyal bodyguard. He heard footsteps behind him and he knew that the dark figure was catching up. Suddenly he felt strong pull as the dark attacker grabbed him for his long, well-groomed hair, and forcefully turned him around. Plautius was blinded by blue magic directed at him. He closed his eyes and put hands in front of his face, hoping for his attacker's mercy. The last thing he felt was a sharp, sharp pain.

...
....
.....

"Plautius?" quietly asked Salonia, hiding behind a tree. "Is this you?" She heard someone walking in her directions but she saw no one. Whoever it was, it was walking very slowly.

"Plautius, is it you? Say something."

Salonia carefully peeked from behind the tree and sighed with relief. "It's you! I was so afraid! Where did..."

She stopped in the middle of the sentence.

A huge cut over Plautius' throat told her that something wasn't right. Plautius was standing there, watching her like entranced, his fine clothes covered in blood.

"Uhhh..." He might have feared battles when alive but in death Plautius was much more courageous and he pulled out his Imperial sword, his mind focused on one thing only - to kill the being in front of him.

"Plautius, no! What are you doing? Somebody help!"

Salonia felt like in a nightmare as she was trying to escape from Plautius' deadly swings. But it was in vain. With a large knapsack on her back and not enough air to breathe, her dead husband was behind her in seconds...

...
....
....

"Most obedient corpse you have been," said the dark one to Plautius as he was waiting for new orders, like a well-trained soldier. But a few seconds later, he crumbled to ashes and as his body dissipated, it was only his fur-trimmed clothes and shining gifts from his family's treasure that remained in the ash pile that was once Plautius Carvain, a successful merchant from Bruma.

The dark one was holding another black gem in his hand, another soul stolen, another essence gained.

"Fair lady, what about you?" the dark assassin asked Salonia's corpse. "For a walk, let's go, shall we?"

[Acadian]

Pure evil (but clever ) using the the guy's corpse to kill the wife. I guess there'll be a couple empty chairs at that big royal wedding in Solitude. Neat how you opened with Talsgar finding the dead guy's ash pile.

[Renee]

Christ that is creepy. Favorite part this time is actually in the beginning, when the bard is trying to think of love songs, but only sees ash piles and remains all around.

Hmm. You mention the dark one has something 'military' about him. Hmm. Like a soldier. Hmm.

EDIT: So I'm gaming now with Claire. She is headed towards Solitude. She's been traveling with Hadvar lately; Farkas and Aela the Huntress both ditched Claire during the first Civil War skirmish at Whiterun. I just figured 'that is that', and Claire is probably done with the Companions.

But then we hear a voice come up from behind us in Dragon Bridge. "We Nords were proud warriors once, and we still could be". I was like HOLY [censored], Aela had somehow decided to begin following Claire again, out of the blue. Since it is the 9th f Frostfall, and the Civil War skirmish took place several days ago, that's pretty neat. It's like she tracked Claire's whereabouts over time, or something.

This post has been edited by Renee Gade IV: Feb 13 2015, 01:08 AM

[Acadian]

Renee, I missed your edit till now. Wow, that is really neat about Aela finding Claire!

[Lopov]

Thank you, Renee and Acadian.

Renee, I find it really funny how Claire's followers disappear from time to time but then somehow find their way back to her.

--

He was only interested in the Orc.

Not because He'd have anything against him but because the Orc was of the appropriate race and appeared at the right time. Or from the Orc's viewpoint, he appeared at the wrong time. But the Orc wasn't traveling alone, there was an elderly man and a pretty woman with him. Most unfortunate for them. But He really had no choice - when He was doing something, He was doing it good.

Not proofs nor witnesses were left behind.

Only ash piles and occasional corpses.

People die all the time in Tamriel, who would even get suspicious of just another dead body along a road.

Was He evil? Most likely people would call Him that but He never really thought much about it. Some enjoyed hunting, some singing, some baking and some enjoyed killing.

He wasn't doing it just for the sake of killing and enjoyment. Whoever thought this, was very, very wrong. He was a professional, a person for hire, an individual specializing in performing malicious and wicked deeds for those who payed well.

Well, He couldn't deny to himself that He wasn't enjoying what He was doing. Because if this weren't true, then He'd kill only the Orc and capture his soul, leaving the other travelers unharmed. But plain killing was boring. Yet if He used some imagination, played with his victims a little before leaving them to their fate, there was a sense of accomplishment. A feeling of satisfaction, known only to Him, when he could almost hear cries and pleas for mercy.

But the word "mercy" had no place in his mind. At least not when on "duty".

"Game over, little one." She was a necessary victim but the real purpose of the attack was in his satchel - the Orc's Soul.

Only Six more.

[Acadian]

Ooooh! I think I know which quest he is doing. Hmm, at this rate though, Skyrim's gonna start to become a rather empty place. . . .

[Lopov]

Do you have HM's quest in mind?

I admit that the quest which the dark one is doing, is partially inspired by this one but it's not the same, I made this quest up.

This post has been edited by Lopov: Feb 16 2015, 09:42 PM

[Acadian]

Oh, that's neat. Made up quests are some of the best. But yes, I was thinking HM's quest - even though I've never done it.

[Renee]

Yeah, sometimes we have to make up our own quests. I can't think of what the dark one is after here yet. But maybe I will. I find it interesting that he "takes pleasure" in what he is doing, though. This leads me to believe he has a wider range of emotions than I previously guessed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sometime in Frostfall, 4th Era 201

"Can't wait to kill another of Oyfric's boys." ...states Hadvar, as he stands outside of Nightcaller Temple with Aela 'the Huntress'. "Been too long since I've been on a Stohmcloak raid."

"Ulfric?" answers Aela, shrugging. "Can't say I am really of a particular notion about who I kill. My bow is ready at her command."

"This Imperial armor's damn heavy. When's she coming out of there?"

"Well, she is very devoted to The Eight, as you may know. And it it Sundas. I cannot reckon her reasonings, Hadvar. If you are so impatient, why not join her inside?"

"I ... No. She has her reasons. Like I said. And my persuasions within the Gods are not so deep, honestly."

The two stand outside, in the early morning snow, thinking it would have been a better idea (perhaps) to stay behind, down in Dawnstar. Then again, Claire would not have been able to handle the spiders which populated the outside of Nightcaller by herself. And at least the sun is out. It takes another few minutes before Claire is done with her prayers and ministrations. She bursts out of Nightcaller with her usual mischievous smirk. "Ready? Let us go. Just a few furlongs south, that is where the Stormcloaks have holed up. I have already seen the place in my visions. We will join the others, they are already there."

"Now you're talking!"

"And we will do so soon. But for now, hold still, while I place a blessing on you, Aela."

"Thanks, I feel .... better," she says as nonchalantly as she can, without rolling her eyes. Claire is her friend, one of the most adventurous souls she had ever met, but this 'blessing' nonsense is getting old.

"And now for you. Divines bless your spirited soul, Hadvar."

"Hey, that feels good! Can't wait to kill another of Oyfric's boys."

"Ulfric", Claire corrects. "And please, a little respect as we stand before the Temple of Mara."

Hadvar smiles. Whatever you say, he thinks, getting mentally ready for the battle ahead.



This post has been edited by Renee Gade IV: Feb 17 2015, 03:31 PM

[Acadian]

What a cool little story, Renee. That mod sounds perfect for Claire!

[ghastley]

Acadian's post in the conversations thread reminded me of an event yesterday. My character is walking into Falkreath when one of the guards says "Favor the bow eh? I'm a sword man myself."

However, she's carrying the most humungous Epic Ebony Battle-axe on her back when he says this. She has about level 20 archery, and she's not even carrying any arrows.

My only guess is that was triggered by her making 30 or more dwarven bows to raise her Smithing skill. She and Erik the Slayer were hauling as many as they could carry into town to sell them.

[mALX]

Acadian's post in the conversations thread reminded me of an event yesterday. My character is walking into Falkreath when one of the guards says "Favor the bow eh? I'm a sword man myself."

However, she's carrying the most humungous Epic Ebony Battle-axe on her back when he says this. She has about level 20 archery, and she's not even carrying any arrows.

My only guess is that was triggered by her making 30 or more dwarven bows to raise her Smithing skill. She and Erik the Slayer were hauling as many as they could carry into town to sell them.

How odd that the game would keep track of crafted items rather than scanning your inventory!