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: It has been pointed out that the draugr have had their brains removed, and place in jars. That probably accounts for a lot.

Renee: There's the extra limitation of my using a non-standard race here.

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Previously: Kothet hitched a ride to Skuldhavn and then summoned Zahra to join him.

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30 - Sovngarde

Eventually we emerged on the other side of the Temple, or rather, the same side but higher up. We'd opened the door using one of those dragon claw keys, which we'd had to take from the draugr guarding the door. More of the high-level draugr were waiting outside, and a couple of dragons with them, but the final guard was a dragon priest.

As he saw us approach, he turned to retrieve his staff, which apparently was holding the portal open, as it closed as soon as he picked the staff out of its socket. However, that was just as I reached him, and he didn't have time to use it. I have no doubt that it would have cast some nasty spell, so I'm glad my timing was right for once.

I put the staff back, and the portal re-opened. There was an obvious discharge of energy around it, much like the flames in one of the gates we opened between the Deadlands and Tamriel. But this wasn't flame, which meant we probably weren't going into somewhere hot, like Dagon's Realm.

I picked up the priest's mask, unsure why I wanted it. Perhaps I wasn't sure I'd ever be back here, and wanted a souvenir, or proof to show to others. It was enchanted with a considerable Fortify Magicka, so I offered it to Zahra to use. She looked rather offended that I'd want her to cover her face, and suggested that I needed it more than she did. I'm not sure what she meant by that.

I stowed it in my backpack and headed down the steps into the portal to Sovngarde. Or somewhere. I hoped it would be where I could find Alduin, or all this fighting would have been for nothing.

---

I wasn't sure where we arrived, as a thick mist obscured everything from view. I could just about make out a paved path, so we set out to follow it. And when the path forked, I picked a direction at random.

We came across a Nord legionary, sitting on a rock next to the path. He told us that the mist was Alduin's doing, intended to prevent the dead from finding Shor's Hall and safety, while he flew above it and swooped down to prey on them. We let him follow us for a while, but when I turned back to ask him a question, a large black shape swooped out of nowhere and carried him off.

We were in the right place, then, and Alduin was definitely here, but we still had to find a way to bring him to battle. Perhaps locating Shor's Hall was the first step.

We blundered into the right location a short time later. Across a small stream, the mist was thinner, and we saw a very large man guarding the entrance to a bridge, which appeared to be have made from the skeleton of a whale. He hailed us as we approached, and told us his name was Tsun, tasked by Shor to decide who could enter.

Naturally he was surprised to find a Dremora asking for admission. "By what right do you claim that privilege?"
"As the Dragonborn. I come pursuing Alduin."

"Since you are not dead, you must face me in a warrior's challenge to gain admission," he told me, and unslung a huge axe from his back.

I nodded and did the same with my war-hammer.

He swung at me, faster than I though someone of his size could manage, but I managed to deflect the blow, and countered with a whack on his leading knee. It would have been enough to cripple any mortal warrior, but he just laughed and told me I'd proved myself.

He stood aside and let us pass. I glimpsed back from the bridge and was amused to see him rub that knee.

---

On the other side was a VERY large building with doors that reached up into the mist. I was surprised that the door I tried opened without much effort, although something that massive necessarily moved slowly.

Inside, we were greeted by a Nord in ancient armor, who introduced himself as Ysgramor, a name I'd heard somewhere, although I couldn't place exactly where. He told me that three of his fellow Nords had been waiting patiently for a chance to deal with Alduin, but Shor had given orders that they should wait for me.

They turned out to be Gormlaith Golden-Hilt, Hakon One-Eye, and Felldir the Old, the same three that had sent Alduin forward in time to become my problem. But also the same ones who had unknowingly shown me the shout I needed to finally defeat him. I would be glad of their help in dealing with the dragon. Their unfinished business was mine too, now.

---

We re-crossed the bridge, and together shouted "Clear Skies" to blow away the mists, hoping to reveal Alduin. They did clear, but a shout from the distance restored them again.

"Again!" Gormlaith called out, and we did so. Once more the mists were gone, only to re-appear as the dragon responded with his own shout.

Hakon was a bit discouraged by this apparent impasse, but I'd noticed that the mist wasn't as thick as before, and apparently Gormlaith had seen that too. "He's weakening! Once more, and he'll have to face us!"

We all shouted a third time, and now he saw the futility of trying to sustain the mist and flew down to engage us. Naturally he ran into four shouts of Dragonrend, but we got a rain of his fiery meteors in response. Felldir used Clear Skies to stop those, and we closed on the dragon.

It wasn't much of a fight after that. I'd bested him alone, and these three had equaled him when we separately encountered him before. Together, we were much more than he could handle. Much as with any other dragon I'd defeated, his flesh dissolved into leaves of flame, and dissipated, but now his skeleton did something similar, and the usual swirl of light that meant I was capturing his knowledge was absent.

Well, this wasn't Tamriel, so perhaps things happened differently here. I still had that vague feeling that I'd changed, even if I didn't know what it was. I didn't get to "unlock" a new Word of Power and learn a new Shout, but something was altered. Perhaps Paarthurnax would have some idea, when I went back.

---

Now that the mists were gone, those who'd been lost in it could find their way, and a straggling group was approaching from the valleys. At their head was a tall man dressed in regal clothes, that everyone else seemed happy to follow.

This turned out to be Torygg, the late High King of Skyrim. He'd not long passed from Tamriel, and was eager to tell someone about it. I'd heard the Nords' stories, which seemed to depend on which side of the Civil War the teller was on. They both agreed that Ulfric had challenged Torygg for his throne, and gone on to use a Shout to defeat him. Whether that was lawful or not, was a matter of debate.

Torygg told me that he'd been happy to accept the challenge, and would have been equally happy to lose, if it had been the duel that the tradition required. It was supposed to be a formal contest with blunted weapons, held at a mutually agreed neutral location, with the Jarls as judges and referees of fair play.

Ulfric had attacked him as soon as he'd accepted the challenge, right there in the palace. Torygg had been wearing no armor, and had only the ceremonial sword he used for official business. "If that was sharp, I'd have to be careful not to nick anyone's ears when I laid it on their shoulder," he pointed out.

He'd also lead with the only Shout he knew, Unrelenting Force, knocking the king down, even if it didn't actually injure him. A legal duel wouldn't have permitted Shouts, or any kind of magic. "But I didn't get the chance to stand back up. He was on me immediately, and thrust his sword through me before anyone could move. The duel, if it ever was one, would have been over as soon as I fell."

I'm sure that Ulfric would tell me a completely different tale, but there was a lot in this one that rang true. I'd read about the formal duels in a book about Orsinium, and what he'd described matched well. It was also very reminiscent of the way disputes were settled among the Kyn, although we didn't have to concern ourselves so much about letting the loser live, as he'd be restored anyway. The whole point was to allow rightness to determine the victor, and to eliminate all other inequalities from the process.

We chatted for a while about what he thought Ulfric had been trying to achieve. Did he really think he could take over the throne that way, or was he just trying to eliminate Torygg completely?

"I don't know," he told me. "I never quite understood his motives. We both wanted Skyrim to be free of the Thalmor edict against Talos-worship, but differed completely on how to achieve it. I preferred to wait, and let the Empire regain its strength, especially as the elves were quite ineffective, and Talos was perhaps even more popular now. But Ulfric had something else against them that he wasn't sharing with the rest of us, and now I'll never know what it was."