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.

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


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's map doesn't name it, so he didn't. I felt that Redoubt means Forsworn (or at least fortification) too clearly, and he would be expecting the opposition, instead of finding it as he went along.

Renee: It's Dremora territory now!

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

5 -Dremora Tower

I began to wonder, when I found a brazier and an anvil on a landing at the top of the stairs inside. But nobody, and nothing, was defending this one, so I climbed further. The ramp outside led up to a doorway into an empty room. No sign of habitation here, but there were more stairs, wooden ones this time, not like the stone ones below.

At the top of those I found a workbench, and a chest. On the workbench was a book, that confirmed I'd found the right place. It gave me some instructions on how to start rebuilding the tower, suggesting I might fix the floor first. That would take timber, and I didn't see any lying around up here. There were a few items in the chest, blocks of stone, leather strips, some clay, and a few iron ingots, but no planks or boards.

I went down again, carrying what I'd taken from the chest. It looked like I had enough material here to make a smelter, and a tanning rack, and I knew I'd need those to make more materials. Once I'd constructed those I looked around to see if there were any trees I could cut.

But it appeared I'd not need to. There was a pile of logs just beyond the smelter I'd just put up. Either I'd not noticed it on the way in, behind that rock, or they'd appeared there by magic. Stranger things do happen, so I asked no questions. Nobody here to ask, anyway.

I only had enough iron to make nails for the floor. I needed more, if I wanted to put a roof at the top, and close off a bedroom. There was a vein of ore not too far away, and one of corundum near the entrance to the other tower. So once I had a pickaxe, I could make a lock, if I needed one. I didn't see much point in making a door yet, as there was nothing of great value to lock inside. I'd be very annoyed if someone stole the anvil, but if they wanted one, they'd take it from the camp lower down, and not bother coming all the way up here. And I needed a pickaxe before I could mine the iron or corundum.

I decided to go and look for more iron, down at the forge. I hadn't noticed any ore veins as I climbed up here, but I hadn't searched all the chests, and they might have some stored away to make their weapons.

They might even have a pickaxe.

As I crossed the bridge over the river, I got the urge to try the quick way down. The waterfall was almost vertical down to the pool below, and that lookout point at the end hung out over the falls. What was the worst that could happen? If the fall killed me, it wouldn't be long before I found myself back in Skyrim, and now I knew the way here.

Perhaps it was the confident way I leaped off the planks at the end that made me land safely in the deepest part of the pool. I climbed the steps out to see a ghost in front of me, with a lute in his hands. He told me that I'd just jumped off Bard's Leap, and that he'd done so too, if not so successfully, after reciting the entire Poetic Edda at the top.

The ghost disappeared and I noticed a chest behind him. It had a lock that was hard to pick, and didn't contain any iron. I did find a minor gem, and some gold, and a potion that might be handy later.

No pickaxe, no iron, or even ore. I did discover some silver veins, not that I need silver for anything, but it's more valuable than iron, and I could trade.

It looked like I needed to go back to Whiterun, or Riverwood, and buy some iron ingots. I took anything that looked valuable from the corpses and their camp, and headed back down the path. That dead archer looked even better without her armour. Why couldn't she have yielded?

I took a wrong turning on the road back to Whiterun and ended up in somewhere called Falkreath instead. There was a merchant there, and a smith, so it turned out just as well. The merchant had the goat horns I was going to need to make lights, and glass, and straw to stuff the mattress. He told me that there was an iron mine between there and Riverwood where I'd find a pickaxe, if I didn't mind clearing out the bandits first. "Check with Valga at Dead Man's Drink first, there might be a bounty for them, too. She mentioned that the Jarl's men had brought in a flyer last time I went in for a drink. Doesn't interest me, but you might like the job."

I thanked him and did just that. There was indeed a bounty on the bandits. And Valga was good to look at, and so was the woman she had selling drinks, so it was well worth the visit. I almost wished I'd arrived later in the day, and could stay overnight to see what else they had to offer. But it was early morning, and I had some bandit-clearing and mining to do.

Embershard mine was almost all the way to Riverwood, and of course I passed a couple of iron veins on the way, without a pickaxe. It put me in a foul mood, which was much the best mood to be in before a good fight.

The bandits weren't much of a problem, and I found a pickaxe next to the first vein of ore. I didn't need to retrace my steps at all, mining as I went, and killing bandits when they heard me and came looking. They'd made a couple of ingots already, although I didn't see a smelter anywhere, and they had a forge where they could use them. Someone had left a book on making light armour on the workbench, and I learned something new from reading that.

Apart from that, there was a fair bit of their loot scattered around the place, on tables, shelves, and in chests. Nothing major, but all worth collecting. I took their better weapons and armour with me, too, and went back to Falkreath to sell it and collect the bounty, mining as I went.

There was no smelter in the town, either, but since iron ore and ingots are equally heavy, I could wait until I got home. To the tower, I meant. It wasn't a home yet, but I had all the material to make it one, so it wouldn't be long.

I still needed moonstone, and quicksilver, and gold for the crafting table, but that was going to take a grand soul gem, too, and I couldn't even afford an empty one. That would be the last thing I made.

---

It was starting to get dark when I returned, so I made the important things first. The roof, the partition to enclose the bedroom, then the bed itself. A wardrobe to stow some of the miscellaneous items in until I made a chest. I only had one corundum ingot, and the lock I made from that would be used on the main door. I made that next.

By now, it was really getting dark, so the next items to make should be lights. Half of my goat horns made a small chandelier for the entrance, and most of the rest a lamp stand on the middle floor. The last one would light my bedroom, but first I needed something to stand it on.

When I made the side tables, and put the lamp on one of them, I noticed that a book had appeared on the other. I hadn't put it there, so how did get there?

It had an Oblivion gate symbol on the cover. That usually indicated that it was a book about conjuration, and some of them taught you spells, or increased your skill. That seemed useful, so I took a look inside.

This would teach me a spell, and unusually, I had a choice. There were three spells available, each to summon a housecarl. A Dremora housecarl, who could be male or female, and there were two choices of females.

Lydia had explained what a housecarl was, someone to guard me and my property. I didn't need guarding, but this tower might. And a male would obviously do that better than a woman. Women weren't fighters, although the Nords seemed to think they were, or they wouldn't have offered Lydia. And come to think of it, my woman had proved no slouch. She hadn't even been wearing armour when she defeated me.

I shouldn't have thought about her. It probably swayed my thoughts from the rational decision I should have made, to the impulsive one I did make.

The book disappeared, and left me wondering what had just happened.

I didn't try the spell immediately. I had still had materials to make more furniture, and I wanted to complete as much as I could before I summoned her. I expected respect, but I also wanted it to be justified. Her first view of this tower would be as impressive as I could make it.

So the dining table and bookshelf were made, and weapon racks, an armour mannequin and I still had enough iron for a good quantity of nails. The platform that I constructed at the top of the tower had a commanding view over the entire valley. The strategic advantages of such a lookout position couldn't be lost on anyone, and that was where I finally summoned her.

She was almost as tall as me, and wore a simple robe wrapped around her, and tied at the waist. When she turned to face me, I wasn't disappointed with what I saw. She said nothing, unlike her Nord counterpart, who'd accosted me with a little speech about how she was sworn to serve. This woman just looked into my eyes as if I'd be able to read everything in hers.

"It's late, time for me to go to bed," I announced, not really knowing what I expected of her. When I went down the stairs towards the bedroom, she followed, but stopped outside the curtain, and didn't follow me in, as I'd hoped. She was still saying nothing.

I got into bed and waited. I'd learned the spell that promised me hope of a companion, rather than just an ally, and she certainly looked like the woman I wanted, especially the breasts that threatened to fall out of her robe. I'd managed not to stare at them too much. Just to let her know I'd noticed, and no more.

She didn't move from her position. Perhaps she was on guard there, perhaps I just didn't deserve her yet. All I'd proved so far was that I was a competent laborer, after all.

This post has been edited by ghastley: Aug 29 2016, 06:51 PM