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: I'm not sure I'd actually call the map of Blackreach a map. You can't find anything on it.

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Previously: Kothet and Zahra had gone down to Blackreach, looking for the Tower of Mzark.

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27 - Learning

Nothing else happened. We'd have to push the buttons, and find out what they did. I pushed the first(?) one. The one nearest to the lexicon pedestal, anyway. I had no idea what order the buttons needed pushing, or even if I had to push more than once. The large spherical part in the middle rotated when I did that, but nothing gave me any clue what to do next. Was this a better position for the sphere, or worse?

The second button did much the same as the first, except that the sphere rotated in a different direction. I decided at this point to look around the rest of the room, in case there was a book or note with instructions. I found instead the skeleton of someone who'd died trying to work the device. His notes just left me thinking it might be impossible.

He did write that more of the buttons became usable if the sphere was in the right position, whatever that was. I pushed the first two a couple more times, at random, to see what happened, and the third button did uncover, and light up. The lexicon cube also opened up and glowed.

"Ok, leave the first two alone now," I thought, maybe out loud in case Zahra decided to help. I pressed the third one, and the sphere didn't move, but the apparatus above it re-arranged itself a bit. I pressed it again, and got a new arrangement, this time more symmetrical. The light from above now flowed through the lenses, and it appeared that the lexicon was doing ... something.

The final button was also now opened, so I pressed that, and a container moved down into the centre of the apparatus, and then opened, revealing the scroll we had come for!

I went down to take the scroll, and indicated to Zahra that she should pick up the cube, as we needed to take both back to Septimus. When I had the scroll, I looked back to see that Zahra was frozen with her hand on the cube, and light was swirling around her and the pedestal. And then it stopped, and the cube closed and she took it.

I asked what she'd experienced, and she was unaware of anything. "I just picked up the cube, like you asked," she told me. "But I do have this feeling that I learned something. I'm just not sure what it was."

That was exactly what had happened to me in Avanchnzel, when I put back the lexicon there. In my case, it had been a lesson on smithing (dwarven, of course). Just what I needed at the time, as it happened. I hoped that Zahra had just learned something useful.

---

We left Blackreach through another lift in this tower, and found ourselves at a campsite somewhere in the mountains. It wasn't clear where we were, but following the path down the hillside eventually took us into familar territory, near Fort Dunstad. Now we had to trek back to the north, and Septimus' hideout again.

On the way, Zahra and I discussed the lexicon, and the way it absorbed and dispensed knowledge. Septimus had given us a cube he described as empty, and asked us to fill it with the knowledge from Mzark,. That meant that whatever it had taught her came from the contraption at the tower, and was presumably part of what Septimus wanted to know. However, she couldn't tell me anything new about opening boxes, and thought it was probably something related to spellcasting. "I think I'm using my spells more efficiently now, so perhaps it will just let Septimus do whatever he's doing better."

---

Septimus told us he didn't need the scroll itself. "The knowledge is inscribed in the cube now. Give me that, and I can read it."

I didn't see how he could do that, without one of the Dwemer pedestals, but Septimus revealed that he had help. Hermaeus Mora was guiding him, and was helping him with this task. The Daedric Prince also wanted the contents of the Dwemer lock-box, or at least the facts about what was in there. And the cube had revealed that it will take the mixed blood of each of the elven races to open the cube. Well, Dwemer blood alone would have worked, but you can't get that any more. The mixture would have all the parts that had been lost with the Dwemer, and would be an adequate facsimile.

He gave me an "extractor" to collect the blood. It appeared to have separate containers for each race, connected together by an apparatus that presumably sorted what it received. Having quickly instructed me on how to use it, he urged me back out to continue the work.

We were stopped by something that materialised in the passage. A blob of writhing tentacles, and eyeballs and a voice from elsewhere. Hermaeus Mora was speaking to me, telling me that he'd chosen me to replace Septimus as his agent in this realm. As soon as the box was open, he'd no longer be of use.

I heard him out, and agreed to what he demanded. After all, I couldn't get out of the cave until I did so, and from what I knew of Mora, he'd just take the facts he gathered back to Apocrypha, and file them away. He rarely did anything disruptive, but just poked his nose (tentacles, eyeballs?) into everything, and generally got in the way. Mortals, however, would have a harder time, as he considered them expendable, and if they got in the way of his quest for ever more facts, they'd probably get killed.

I decided that I should forget Septimus' request for now. Filling his extractor would only hasten his demise, if Mora had already decided he didn't need him any more. And using the scroll was much more important to me.

---

"Are we headed back to Paarthurnax now?" Zahra asked.

"Not immediately. I want to go back to Riften, first. There's a loose end there to clear up."

When From-Deepest-Fathoms had given me the lexicon to return to Avanchnzel, she'd implied that returning it would fix her problems, but I was beginning to doubt that. I now had a better idea of what the cubes and their pedestals did, and a little more would be needed.

"Have you been to Avanchnzel yet?" she asked me as soon as she saw me. "You must take the lexicon back, so these voices in my head will stop."

"I did take it back, but you need to return there yourself, if you want the memories to go away."

"No! I can't! That thing will kill me, like it killed Breya."

"I destroyed it. It won't kill anyone. And we can go in the back way, so you don't have to pass all the traps that killed Searches-the Roots."

"But why do I have to go back?"

"Because you didn't finish what you started. The lexicon was trying to teach you something, but you didn't give it enough time. The voices or memories are an incomplete lesson that doesn't make any sense. That's going to leave your mind confused, trying to sort out what you learned with half of it missing."

She didn't seem convinced, but was desperate enough to try anything. We led her out of town and back to the ruin.

"I thought you said we were going in the back way. This is the entrance we used the first time."

"It is, but we'll take a different turn at the first hallway."

Soon she brightened up. "This is the way I came out, but I went out that door over there."

"So you know that the other door takes us to the lift. We'll be right back at the pedestal with the lexicon when we get off at the bottom."

She hung behind us as we entered the room and walked down the steps. "Is it dead?" she asked, pointing at the centurion.

"Broken, incapacitated, destroyed, but it was never alive, so ..."

"Breya's dead, though. I thought I would be, too. I should have helped her fight that thing. Maybe together, we'd have been able to kill it."

"I doubt it. I barely managed myself, with much better armour and weapons. But don't concern yourself with what might have been, we're here for the lesson." I took her hand and placed it on the cube.

She froze, just like Zahra had done, while the knowledge flowed from the cube or the pedestal to her. And maybe something flowed the other way, too.

"Strange," she said when the light stopped swirling. "I learned how to use my bow better, but also how to safely harvest Harrada in Dagon's Deadlands. What use is that to me?"

"You might also find it in Cyrodiil. There were a few growing around the old gates there, and I've collected some myself." I realised that the information had come from me, the last time I was here. The cube had collected the new information, and wanted to pass it on.

"And the voices in your head?" I continued.

"Gone! And I understand what they were trying to tell me, now. The little pieces that wouldn't fit, now they do. But I have nothing to give you for what you've done for me."

"Perhaps you do," Zahra told her. "Kothet, you and I should see what the lexicon learned from her."

We took turns using the cube. If I had a tail like an Argonian, I'd now be able to swim much faster. And maybe my alchemy would be better, too. I hadn't known how many useful potions you could make from fish.