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

[Grits]

Renee, Become a Bandit sounds like it will be a lot of fun with Bjorn. A daredevil Nord is never boring. Congrats on your intro mod! I liked the TG questline the best when I played a thug type of character. Bjorn sounds like a natural.

Lopov, it was fun to catch up on the Rat’s origins after seeing screenshots of him. Yikes, he really is a bad guy! Poor Salma.

[Lopov]

@Acadian - chances are the Rat would leave the Orc alone if Hadring wouldn't mention that he must be rich. He mostly preys on women.

@Grits - yup, he's a bad guy indeed. I wonder how long will he least.

__

Aeri, the owner of Anga's mill, could swear that she locked the door of her house when she left for work in the morning. But now they were unlocked. She carefully stepped inside but at a first glance everything seemed to be in order. As she tried to close the door behind her, someone quickly stepped inside.

"Ah, it's you."

She recognized the stranger which came to the mill earlier this day - judging by his robes he was probably a wizard but Aeri nonetheless offered him a job at the mill as long as he had an axe. Not the Falmeri one at his belt but a true wood-chopping axe. He wasn't interested then but perhaps now he changed his mind and came to tell her that.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

She never asked another question.

[Acadian]

Urg. Something tells me Ratty is not going into the lumber business. . . .

[Renee]

Holy [censored] Lopov! That was quick!



Sundas, Frostfall 26, 4th Era 201: Today in Skyrim Isaac the White emerges from the Arch Mage's towers, greets the people who dwell within his new home, and then realizes he actually has a new home. And what a splendid new home it is. He certainly could never have imagined.

He teleports himself into town*, into the Frozen Hearth, for some bread and chicken soup. Then he walks to Birna's Oddments to do some buying and selling, and then heads back to Sarthaal, to finish up some business he never got around to finishing: what is Gauldur's Amulet? Why is it on his person? He cannot remember, but is sure to find out.



* because of a glitch with the end of Mage's Guild main quest, Isaac can't just leave the college. It's surrounded by a huge, magical barrier still. XD I have to moveto him into town.

This post has been edited by Renee: Mar 19 2016, 08:40 PM

[Tellie]

Morndas, 6th of Second Seed, 4th Era 201

Call me cruel, many have done so after all. Once I may have cared, but no more. Now I'm just tired, for an hour I fought that blasted dragon that had been burning merrily away at the plains near Whiterun, so ancient Nord Hero of Legend that I am (and yes, it does have it's...perks) I naturally went after the blasted beast with Lydia at my side.

Lydia...beautiful woman, strong, feisty...and sadly more dim than the depths of Blackreach if all of the glowy...thingy's were to vanish. Truthfully, the College of Winterhold should have proclaimed me the greatest Master of Restoration by now, as keeping Lydia alive turned out to be a full time job, constantly getting in the way of my arrows, spells...I think I even hit her over the head with my axe once (thank the Nine for helmets and Restoration).

Naturally I quickly realized that this situation would not do, so exhausting my hard earned fortune (I and more importanly Lydia have the scars to prove it) I went to great lengts of trouble to procure two sets of the best armour one can buy.

Eorlund Grey-Mane was more than pleased to fashion us two suits of Daedric armor and as if by a stroke of luck (or more realistically as if to mock us) said dragon appeared. So how does the death of a mighty dragon lead to my current depression you might ask.

Well, let me tell you that spending a fortune on armour for your follower/best-friend/almost wife but not really, taking said magnet for all things dangerous up high into the mountains to kill a dragon, and then triumphantly slay said dragon with the very first shout you've ever learnt...I promise you, doing so is a very VERY bad idea.

Lydia would agree with you...had she not wandered into the blastwave of my shout and been blown clear of the mountain along with the dragon...I wonder. WIll it be easer to just drag the armour to the river and let whatever is left of her just 'flush out', or would burning the remains be best?. One thing's for sure, I did not sell two of my houses for that armour just to leave it in the woods.

[mALX]

...keeping Lydia alive turned out to be a full time job, constantly getting in the way of my arrows, spells...I think I even hit her over the head with my axe once (thank the Nine for helmets and Restoration).

...Lydia would agree with you...had she not wandered into the blastwave of my shout and been blown clear of the mountain along with the dragon...I wonder. WIll it be easer to just drag the armour to the river and let whatever is left of her just 'flush out', or would burning the remains be best?. One thing's for sure, I did not sell two of my houses for that armour just to leave it in the woods.

SPEW!!! I nearly choked to death on this!!!! Now I have to go watch "To Lydia With Love" on YouTube again, lol.

[Renee]

Man, poor Lydia. But maybe she survived. Sometimes they survive the stuff we don't think they will.

[Acadian]

Poor Lydia. She died with a sword in her hand, forever free now of her oath to carry someone else's burdens. May her tankard in Sovngarde never run dry!

[Lopov]

I got a sudden inspiration for a new character today and decided to realize it. Gaming with the Rat is getting a bit tedious because his personality isn't really that complex, so I figure I need someone for more immersive roleplay. As you'll see, some things about my new character will be revealed with time.

1

Officially, borders of Skyrim were closed, but half an hour past midnight on the 18th of Last Seed 4€201, the heavy doors between the provinces of Nords and Imperials opened with a creaking sound. A muscular figure in exquisite clothes, covered with a fine bear’s cloak, wearing an Orcish greatsword on his back came through, and two soldiers immediately shut closed the doors behind him.

He piqued interest of every soldier in the outpost, even more so when he approached the Imperial Commander and openly handed him a full purse of clinking coins.

“As we agreed.”

“Mhm,” muttered the Commander, obviously feeling uneasy by talking to the man in noble clothes.

“Won’t you count the septims?” asked the stranger.

“No…no, there’s no need for that,” said the Commander, avoiding direct eye contact with the man.

“It’s good to trust, soldier, but not to do is SO much better,” remarked the stranger in a scornful tone.

“I assume you’ll be on your way now,” loudly said the Commander, still avoiding the man’s eyes.

“Of course, soldier. A bit edgy tonight, are we?”

Without further words, the nobleman turned around and slowly descended down the snowy path.

For a few seconds utter silence prevailed at the border outpost, soldiers were looking at their Commander, expecting some explanation but he obviously didn’t intend to give one. It seemed like the arrival of the stranger unnerved their superior.

“Excuse me, Commander,” asked one of the young recruits, ”but aren’t borders closed for everyone except for the Imperial Legion?”

“They are, soldier, they are,” answered the Commander, looking in the direction of the stranger. “Let’s just say that this man belonged to the Legion…once. And let’s leave it at that. Back to your posts, everyone!”

Soldiers assumed that their Commander wasn’t telling them the full story – neither he obviously expected to get paid in front of their eyes but it seemed that the nobleman intentionally did so.

“But who was this man?” asked a middle-aged soldier.

“Someone that you should hope never to see again. Now get back to your posts, all of you!”

Silently, soldiers obeyed their superior as he was still watching the stranger walking away in the distance. “I need this gold, I need it badly,” thought the Commander. “Damn bastard, paying me in front of my entire garrison instead in my tent as we agreed. But if I didn’t let him through, he’d bribe someone else. Might even kill someone. Gold and killings have never been a problem for the Bloody Noble.”

[Acadian]

Plenty of mystery here! Sounds like another bad boy has been loosed into Skyrim. One with noble blood this time.

[Lopov]

@Acadian - for some reason I have easier time playing shady or evil characters in Skyrim than I do good-aligned ones. In Oblivion and Morrowind I'm the opposite. Anyway, thanks for reading his story, all mysteries will be revealed with time.

2

“Your guest of honor will obviously be late,” Raerek said to his nephew Igmund, the Jarl of Markarth, knowing that he will recognize disapproval in his voice.

Igmund said nothing at first – sitting on his large stone throne, looking bored, he was pondering whether to even get into another discussion with his wise yet sometimes nagging uncle.

“In the letter he wrote that we can expect him in the second half of Last Seed,” said Igmund, “and today it’s only the 19th. There’s still plenty of time.”

Raerek frowned. “Like it matters. Even if he arrives tomorrow or the next month, why did you have to hire that brute from Cyrodiil for the job which our Thanes…”

“Please, uncle Raerek, not again and most of all - not today,” sighed Igmund, closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the cold throne. “I believe we said everything…that needed to be said regarding him.”

“Hmpf! Regarding the Bloody Noble, you can say it freely,” said Raerek, shaking his head. ”Fine, let’s not talk about him anymore. But once he arrives and you’ll see him at work, you’ll remember your uncle’s words. He didn’t acquire his nickname by killing mudcrabs.”


…


Far to the west of Understone Keep, in Fort Neugrad, the man whose arrival angered old Raerek, was sitting at the small wooden table. Slowly and precise, he was cutting a fine piece of horse haunch which he bought in Bruma before leaving his homeland. Next to his plate was a bottle of alto wine, waiting to be emptied. At first glance everything seemed to be in order, just some man in noble clothes eating fine dinner, but at second glance, many things were out of order.

The nobleman’s legs wearing fine boots weren’t placed on the floor but instead on a corpse of some bandit that was alive just a few minutes ago. All around the table lied more lifeless bandits - most of them stabbed through, but some had their throats cut or were without their heads, while walls around them were decorated with fresh, still warm blood. None of this seemed to lose the nobleman’s appetite, quite the contrary, there wasn’t much of the horse haunch left after a few bites and the bottle of alto wine was already half-empty.

Raerek from Markarth was certainly right about one thing – you don’t get a nickname such as the Bloody Noble by killing mudcrabs.

[Acadian]

Ahah. Some hints about why the big fellow has come to Skyrim. His dining scene was quite disturbing - poor horsie.

[Kazaera]

I've had a strangely hard time getting into Skyrim, but am giving it another shot. Two shots, in fact, because I currently have a Complicated Living Situation where I am only at home with my desktop every other weekend and have my laptop the rest of the time and have two save games on the go as a result. Both featuring characters who I really can't justify plonking in Skyrim in that time period but I'm doing it anyway.

On the laptop we have Indari, who got shipwrecked north of Dawnstar (with the help of an alternate start mod). She appears to have hit her head pretty badly in the process, because she ended up a level one character with 100 magicka and all of three known spells.......

So Indari was my main save for playing Tamriel Rebuilt, and various hilarious mod+artifact interactions means that the last time I saw her there she had 75% spell absorption and >1000 magicka, had inexplicably begun to regenerate magicka despite an Atronach birthsign (I still have no idea how that happened) and liked to start fights by dropping six summoned creatures at once and turning invisible to watch the fun. Needless to say, she's not happy about the change. In fact, after looting the corpse of a Thalmor who was apparently killed in her shipwreck (good start, Indari, I approve) she decided to walk/swim straight to Winterhold instead of to the closer Dawnstar. Who cares that she basically only owns the clothes on her back, she wants to get her spells back so she can properly strike fear in the hearts of the populace!!

...a plan which went awry the moment the gate guardian demanded to see Indari summon a flame atronach. Her paltry 100 magicka were sadly not sufficient. She was tempted to prove she knew enough magic to be allowed entrance by setting that $%^£ woman on fire, but I managed to talk her out of it just in time. Instead, she set off towards Windhelm in hopes of flambeeing some wolves, gaining some levels, and coming back later to take her revenge on that stuck-up Faralda who wouldn't let her into the college, most likely in a way that involves fire. You know, the usual.

Travelling to Windhelm may have involved clearing the outside of Fort Kastav of necromancers despite being all of level one, assisted by two random travellers who were apparently trying to get to a wedding in Solitude. (One of them didn't survive the battle - eh, she was just complaining about how far away Solitude was anyway. Now she doesn't have to go!) Indari's now wearing a looted necromancer robe, which may not sound like the best idea if you don't want the guards to attack you on sight but - considering she's heading to Windhelm - is probably an improvement over the looted Thalmor robe she was wearing before...

[SubRosa]

The Atronach birthsign in Skyrim does not prevent your magicka from regenerating. Instead it just reduces it by 50%. With a few items that boost magicka regen, you won't even notice it at all.

[Renee]

Lopov: Goodness, that noble guy's sitting there eating over some dead bandit? :cold: Mercy! ... Love all the mystery going on. You always surprise when it comes to mystery.

Kazaera: Yes, that wouldn't be a good idea if Indari burned up that gatekeeper lady! Indari sounds fun. And I like that name "Indari".

This post has been edited by Renee: Mar 24 2016, 02:49 PM

[Lopov]

@Acadian - the mystery won't be a mystery for long. Today's one won't shed much on light on the man but the following update will reveal a lot.

@Renee - well at least he didn't eat the bandit.

3

“For the darkness has passed and the legend yet grows…you’ll know, you’ll know, the Dragonborn’s come…”

Talsgar the Wanderer finished his performance by Lake Ilinalta and humbly bowed. The nobleman in fifties wearing a fine hat loudly applauded him.

“I salute you, most impressive. Now let me count the coins…” the nobleman circled his right wrist two times, then fully extended it, and a small blue orb appeared in the middle of the palm.

Though his left hand was much bigger than the magical orb, it disappeared as he put it inside, and much to Talsgar’s amazement, when he pulled it out again a few seconds later, he was holding a full purse of coins in his left hand.

“There you go…twenty five septims for the song. Fifty more for food and bed at the inn of your choosing. And another twenty five because I’m in a good mood.”

Talsgar was amazed again – it rarely happened that travelers gave him more gold than he requested and it never happened that they’d have their gold stored in some magical blue orb.

“Thank you, generous wanderer,” he said and bowed again. “When we meet the next time, I shall sing you for free. Now if you don’t mind me asking…”

“The magic in my hands?” the nobleman interrupted him. “I expected such a question. After all, it’s not something you see every day, right? Well, this…,” he said and repeated moves from before, and the blue orb appeared again, “…this is a gift from some Altmer sorcerer I met in Valenwood years ago. It’s a magical bag of holding. As you see, I travel without a horse, even without a backpack. I don’t need either because in this magical bag I have everything I need, and even more.” The nobleman slowly clenched his right fist and the orb disappeared.

“Amazing,” said Talsgar,” I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“It's not easy to carry such a bag. One has to train hard, it's a mental training, even more strenuous than a physical one. But it pays off, my bard, it certainly pays off. As for now…I enjoyed our little meeting.”

“So have I,” agreed Talsgar. “I do hope we meet again.”

“I do think we will,” said the nobleman,” I intend to stay up north for a while.”

Talsgar and the nobleman nodded in goodbye and continued down the road passing Lake Ilinalta, the nobleman heading west towards the Reach and Talsgar heading east in the direction of Riverwood.

…


“What a generous man,” thought Talsgar, slowly counting coins again,” that’s what Skyrim needs - more people him.”

If the bard saw the nobleman sitting by the campfire atop Falkreath Watchtower a few hours later, humming the song of the Dragonborn, as he was skinning a severed head of some necromancer that used to live in the tower, he’d probably change his mind about Skyrim needing more people like him. The procedure was long and complicated if one wanted to skin a skull and remove organs, and the Bloody Noble certainly strived for perfection. As he was finished, he checked the skull from all angles again, then placed it inside the gem holder, standing in the middle of the campfire.

“There, there,” he muttered to himself as he once again inspected the skull from the distance, “a true piece of art. Unfortunately, very underappreciated.” Still humming the song of the Dragonborn, the Bloody Noble descended down the stairs of the watchtower, heading for Lake Ilinalta to wash his bloody hands.

[Acadian]

A fun display of magic as Talsgar is generously rewarded by one who appreciates fine song. Magic bags of holding are wonderful for adventurers with big wardrobes and lots of shoes. . . .

Hmm, the Bloody Noble's taste in art seems a bit different than his taste in music. Well, at least the necromancer no longer needed his skull.

[Renee]

I totally thought the bard was going to roast...you know, I thought he was a goner. :cold: So that was a surprise. Bloody Noble is pretty sick!

This post has been edited by Renee: Mar 26 2016, 12:07 AM

[Lopov]

@Acadian - magical bags of holding are useful indeed. I still remember the blue one from Baldur's Gate II which I filled with so many items that when I went to check them, I forgot that I even put some of them inside in first place.

@Renee - curiosity didn't kill the bard. However, he wasn't so kind to revelers when one insulted him because he was drinking Black-Briar mead.

The following update is the longest by now, and has elements of fan-fic at times because it revolves around conversations and thoughts so maybe it's not the most appropriate for this thread but I'm putting it here nonetheless because such updates won't be too common. There will be more on occasion but most of them will be like previous ones. However, to clarify some things and reveal some past of the Bloody Noble and the name behind the nickname, I feel that such update is necessary.

4

News about the stranger in noble clothes preventing murder in the marketplace of Markarth, quickly made it to Understone Keep. Half an hour later, Jarl Igmund, his steward Raerek and his housecarl Faleen, saw the muscular figure with a greatsword on his back imposingly approaching them. They were awaiting him in silence as he made it atop the stairs and put down his fine hat, revealing the bald head beneath and dark red war-paint on his forehead and cheeks.

“Jarl Igmund, at last we meet,” loudly said the nobleman and bowed. “I’d arrive sooner but I was caught in a blizzard a day ago and had to spend night at the Old Hroldan Inn. But I believe you’ve been expecting me. Gentian Ubarda, at your service.”

“I am Igmund, the Jarl of Markarth and in the name of The Court of Markarth I welcome you to my town and my hold, Ubarda.”

“I’m pleased that you refer to me by my birth name. Too many people these days call me by some nicknames which I’ve gathered over years and which picture me as some bloodthirsty animal. Imagine being called the Skull Collector or the Head Skinner or the Bloody Noble - which I believe to be most known.”

Raerek frowned, thinking: ”Pompous murderer! You obviously revel in your nicknames, else you wouldn’t stress each one so loud and so proud.”

“As we agreed in the letter, I’m here to help you in your battle against Forsworn and local bandits. If your Thanes and soldiers put tails between their legs at the first sight of cavemen, I can assure you that Ubarda doesn’t,” reassuringly said the Bloody Noble.

“Our men are no weaklings!” angrily said Raerek, earning himself a dirty look from Igmund who immediately prevented his uncle from saying more. “Uncle Raerek, please. Our men are no weaklings but it’s a fact that we’re fighting a never-ending battle against the Forsworn and now it seems that even petty bandits are becoming more organized. I’m certain that sire Ubarda’s help will be most appreciated.”

“It will,” said Ubarda, then looked at Raerek with contempt. “If I may ask you, Jarl Igmund, who is this Draugr sitting by your side?”

Silence fell over the Court of Markarth. Faleen felt sudden heaviness as Ubarda insulted the steward, Igmund obviously didn’t expect such a question while Raerek seemed both scared and insulted at the “remark”.

“I will not allow you to insult my uncle and steward, Ubarda,” finally said Igmund. “He may be old but he’s been my wise advisor for many years. If we are to cooperate, you will have to behave yourself in our Court. I know of your reputation and I can assure you that our side of treaty will be respected as long as you will respect ours. We both agreed to that in our last letter.”

“Of course,” said Ubarda, looked at Raerek once again, this time a smile playing on his face which Raerek immediately recognized to be dishonest. “Arrogant bastard,” he thought but said nothing. As Ubarda and Igmund began discussing the difficult situation with the Forsworn, Raerek reminisced what had he learned about the Bloody Noble from dossiers and first-hand witnesses…



“Uncle! Are you still here?” Igmund’s question brought Raerek back to reality.

“Maybe he dozed off,” said Ubarda in a mocking tone. “It happens often in his age.”

“I haven’t dozed off!” protested Raerek.

“Well then we’d value your opinion,” said Igmund, “do you have anything against giving sire Ubarda ownership of the Vlindrel Hall while he stays with us? He offered 10,000 septims for the place which is more than our current price.” Raerek recognized the look in Igmund’s eyes – he won’t accept No for an answer. While he strongly disagreed with giving Ubarda one of the most luxurious houses in Markarth, he knew that Igmund already set up his mind.

“He can have it as long as he takes care of it,” said Raerek. “I’ll go and fetch the key for our honored guest.”
Raerek stood up from his stone chair and went in his office to find the key for the hall.

“What have I done to your uncle?” asked Ubarda, acting surprised as Raerek left.

Well you called him Draugr for a start, thought Faleen.

“He has his days but I value his opinion highly,” said Igmund. “You should remember that while you’re our guest.”

“I will, Jarl, I will. But you should remember one thing too – we signed a contract, remember? Five hundred gold for heads of the most prominent Forsworn leaders of the region and two hundred and fifty septims for clearing bandit camps - besides I’m allowed to take ALL their treasures which I find. As long as I’ll be bringing you their skinned heads…

“…there’s no need for skinning them. Your word will…” Igmund interrupted him.

“As long as I’ll be bringing you their skinned heads,” Ubarda went on just like Jarl said nothing,” septims better flow in my direction straight from your treasury. If that won’t happen, I will get angry…and you don’t want to know me when I’m angry. When your steward brings me the key, I’m leaving. I have to rest before I head for the hills tomorrow. When we meet again, rest assured, there’ll be less Forsworn and bandits in your hold. Thank you for your hospitality.”

He bowed once again, then put on his fine hat and went down the stairs. Without looking at approaching Raerek, he snatched the key from his hands, so the old man almost fell, and continued down the hall. In that moment Igmund for the first time thought whether his uncle was right that hiring the Bloody Noble was a mistake.

[Acadian]

Lots of good background on who and why the Bloody Noble is.

The Bloody Noble's actions, words and attitude would have resulted in bloodshed in the courts of most Jarl's I should think. Igmund may be weak, but in fairness, he is doubtless quite desperate due to the twin threats his hold faces from Forsworn and bandits.

Heh, this sounds like it's going to get very interesting!