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 has been stuck in Tamriel without a female Dremora for two centuries. Of course he's smitten!

Renee: They're after him because that's their business.

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Previously: Having quests to two Dwarven ruins, the pair selected Avanchnzel first, and now they're moving on to the second.

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16 - Mzinchaleft

More wolves before we passed the Nightgate Inn, and several other roads we did not travel. As we passed an entrance to a Nordic ruin a short way further up the road, a bandit warned us to stay away. At any time in the past, I'd probably have attacked him for his insolence, but this time I just laughed, and carried on walking up the road. It wasn't worth my time.

Fort Dunstad couldn't be overlooked, as it blocked the road, and almost filled the valley. We headed around it, but the bandits weren't in the mood to be ignored, and came out to greet us. The gap between the wall and the rocks, however, was narrow, and prevented too many of them from attacking us together. With her behind me, sending firebolts over my shoulder, I was as much of a block to them, as the fort was to us.

I was glad that she was using the lesser spell. I wasn't blinded by the explosions that fireballs produce, and she'd be able to keep up that barrage as long as she needed to. It was sufficient to keep the archers and mages suppressed, and I could deal well enough with the others. The battle was long and tedious, though, and I'd used up most of my stamina potions by the time it was done. We back-tracked a little and went through the fort, looking for more.

I didn't find many, but at least they had an alchemy lab, and I could make some. I don't have the skill to make strong ones, but it's improving slowly.

---

We continued into Dawnstar, before turning back to take the other road. I didn't want to get involved with any other quests until I'd completed Mjoll's, but knowing what was here would be useful. I'd heard about the Quicksilver mine from Belethor, when he told me about the vein near the Battle-Born farm. Now I knew where it was. I also knew that there was a smithy here, and an alchemist's. And that reminds me, stamina potions!

The trail off towards Mzinchaleft was marked by a cairn of stones, and a couple of wolves. It was likely that they waited there in ambush, as deer used the trails at least as much as people did. A grateful rabbit fled the other way after we killed them.

The dwarven ruin was down in a hollow, and I suspected that this was just the entrance to something larger, and mostly underground. Avanchnzel had had almost no visible structure near the entrance, and had been almost entirely beneath the hills. Nchuand-Zel was an exception of a sort, as either it was entirely underground, or the whole city of Markarth was its entrance.

There was enough above ground here to make a decent home for bandits, and that was who greeted us as we arrived. They'd left an archer on guard outside, but most of them were camped in the buildings behind him. We met about half-a-dozen of them, one at a time. Fortunately, they didn't have the coordination to attack as a group.

That probably meant that their leader, if they had one, was inside the ruin proper. I opened the door cautiously, not knowing if the fighting outside had alerted anyone within. Apparently not; these thick doors must shut out all the noise.

The bandits inside were just as disorganised, and we dealt with them in ones and twos. No sign of any leadership yet. The last one had a key labelled "Maluril's room" which opened the door he'd been guarding. There was no sign of Maluril, just a diary, left on the table. He'd been their leader, of sorts. A "scholar" looting the Dwemer artifacts from the ruins for sale, who'd hired the bandits to protect him. Maybe we'd find him deeper into the ruin.

I say the last, but in fact he was just the last we had to deal with. There were a few more not much further down, but they were battling the dwarven spheres behind the next gate, and we let it all work out before we opened that.

The spheres had won, but didn't have a lot left. I soon dispatched each of them with a swing of my war-hammer. One of them yielded a large plate I could melt down. I looked around the room for more scrap, but found none.

Mzinchaleft had less traps than Avanchnzel, but just as many automata guarding it, and like we did there, I handled the spheres while she took care of the spiders. There was one unique feature here, an elaborate puzzle gate with multiple levers to pull in sequence, before I reached a valve that turned it all off. That gave us access to an elevator that took us down into Mzinchaleft Depths.

This would be different. Just outside the elevator at the bottom, was a dead body. It was a Falmer, like we'd met in Nchuand-Zel. There was also a broken dwarven spider, so most likely they'd be fighting each other down here. That's if we were lucky. If not, one side would have won, and we'd be the only adversaries.

We had to fight our way past several Falmer to reach the next building, and there were more inside. Mjoll had told us about the centurion that had nearly killed her, so had these blind elves dealt with that? If so, they would be tough to beat.

We emerged into a courtyard, where more of the Falmer tents had been erected. It looked like they were in control in this part, too. There was a barred gateway to the left, with no visible way to open them, and a ramp to the right. Maybe the control to open the gate was up there? We'd have to pass the ones in the tents to find out.

A fireball into each tent had the weakened occupants coming out to meet us. They all wielded bows, and so I rushed the nearest, trying to put him between myself and the other two. If I could just keep them lined up, I could handle them one at a time. The two at the back knew that, and spread apart. A well-timed fireball spread them even further. By the time they recovered their balance enough to raise their bows again, I was on the next one, and the last was getting her full fire.

I found another Falmer up in the tower, guarding the switch. He couldn't fire down where we'd been, directly below him, or we'd have been in trouble. I knocked him over the balcony to join his late fellows.

The gate bars rattled down when I used the switch. If we'd been trying to sneak into the next area, we wouldn't have got far. However, we weren't trying to sneak, and the nearest Falmer had come over to investigate, leaving the other behind. Separately, they were less trouble than they would have been together, not that the boss was easy. He threw frost at us before he drew his sword, and took several good blows from my hammer before he fell.

Beyond him, a ramp led up to a large door, and I could see both Falmer corpses, and broken dwarven automata lying around, as if there had just been a major battle here.

---

Through the door, there was no sign of Falmer, but I could see an active centurion standing in his charging frame at the far end of the hall. Since we'd dealt with the one in Avanchnzel, I believed we could handle another, as long as we used the right tactics. I needed to get in close, below the steam blast he could use, and she needed somewhere to get out of its way.

We had one more thing going for us here. It hadn't seen us yet. That meant we could each get a long-range shot in before he came for us. Then we could retreat back around this corner, and wait until he got closer.

Yes, my plans included retreating. The Kyn do not retreat, ever. Except when we do, and then we don't talk about it after.

Strategic withdrawal. That sounded much better than retreat, and it fit the situation better. Anyway, it was what we needed to do, and so we did it. Both of us, although I'd worried that she'd charge in like she had against the Draugr in Soljund's Sinkhole.

It turned out that we'd also left a dwarven sphere out of the fight by luring the centurion to us. That popped out of its hole in the wall as we got closer. On its own, it wasn't a major threat, but in the middle of fighting the big guy, it would NOT have been welcome.

Mjoll's sword, Grimsever, was just lying on a bench near the centurion's charging frame. That may have been exactly where she dropped it, or it might have been put there by a spider worker clearing up. But it was in one piece, and we'd found it!

I'll be honest, I was almost as excited by the amount of usable scrap metal I'd been able to collect as we went along. I had some malachite, and I intended to give Grimsever a tune-up before I handed it back, but dwarven work was taking me closer to my goal of proper daedric equipment.