Always Lost, Always Hopeful (248) Get Naughty

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SPOILER INFO
This fanfic novel is largely based on the events that occurred in an actual game of Skyrim I played. Therefore, it's inevitably a spoiler.
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previous day






4-202-04-24 05:52
Vlindrel Hall, Markarth, The Reach, Skyrim


Big and luxurious as our house may be, we still have to use the bath at the inn. I don't mind. It's so beautiful.

The weather is not. It's about as depressing as it can get outside of Skyrim's northern regions. The sky looks like it's going to fall down and suffocate us any moment.

Northeastern High Rock is behind us, beyond the city and the mountains.
Somehow I'm having a vague feeling that this is what the typical weather is like there.
Nevertheless, I would go there right now if I could.

The Naked Dragon Markarth is exactly at the crossing where we would have to turn right towards Dushikh Yal. It suddenly occurs to me that we have a legitimate excuse for actually entering the brothel – to search for possible traces of the Silver-Blood criminals.

My followers agree eagerly. (Well, Lydia and Jordis do.)

We are met by a doorman with a strange air of authority. His status is clearly higher than that of a mere servant. Maybe he sleeps with the proprietress? But that is hardly important, is it? He assures me they are not harboring any Silver-Blood fugitives.

I tell him we are going to take a look ourselves, and does he think he can stop us?

"Far be it from me," he replies. "As a matter of fact, I won't mind if you decide to stick around a little longer."

I can't help casting my eyes down and smiling with embarrassment. "Come on, girls." We enter.

This place is very beautiful, and not too dim. And the girls' outfits are incredible. They make Sylwia's slutty dress seem like a nun's robe. I can't imagine wearing anything like that even alone at home. You may ask how it can possibly feel worse than wearing nothing. I can't really explain it, and I admit the men may see it differently, but to me those so-called clothes look more exposing and inviting than outright nudity.

This is the most expensive brothel in the Naked Dragon franchise, but its base fee (150 septims) is still lower than in the Solitud Public Bathhouse (200 S). For comparison: the elven streetwalker Llaala in Windhelm charges 50 S, Lavinia in Riften is 100 S, Ma' Rasa of Lillandril is 150 S (those as base fees, meaning one vaginal intercourse) and Aija in the Morthal Bathhouse is 300 S regardless of hole.

I have told my followers we're going to keep our helmets on to avoid possible misunderstandings. The working girls are mostly indifferent to our presence, some are friendly (as is the male personnel) and one of the prostitutes looks at us with hostility.

We also get to see a few of the private rooms upstairs. They are roomy and true to the architectural style of this building.

There are magnificent tapestries both in the rooms and in the corridors.

I'd love to spend some time here just for the ambience's sake, but of course they don't serve women. Not in Skyrim. Without getting a prostitute's license, looking is all we can do here.

Soon we are running uphill towards the nice Orc village.

You'll be glad to hear that everything is peaceful as usual in Dushnikh Yal. We get the training we came here for. I notice (or rather am reminded) that a few women are really good-looking here, almost as pretty as Atul.

After some walking around, we leave the village and head northeast. A few minutes after noon, we reach the shrine of Dibella halfway to Granite Hall.

The girls ask if we can sit here together. Yeah, why not. We find places where we don't see each other and let our thoughts wander.

The weather is still gloomy, but this place is wonderfully soothing. I think about Yrsarald and beg Dibella to protect him. I don't know if it's in her field of competence, but this is her shrine.

A couple of hours later, we run past Granite Hall and turn right at the Little Northkeep Intersection. At the point where the road bends left towards the town, I feel adventurous and decide to turn right instead, to the west.

We haven't really been in this area between Northkeep and the high mountains beyond which is that extensive forn place. Wandering around between the hills, we encounter a mage who attacks us with fire magic. Turns out she was trying to guard the entrance to a cave called Glenmoril Coven.

Now, this is a strange place. It's inhabited by female mages called Hags, but that label is grossly inappropriate considering how good-looking they are. That is not the most peculiar thing here. You know I've told you of several places where mages torture people and even display their dead bodies on spikes. Here, they have been doing all those things to goats. There are goat heads on spikes here and there, and a couple of elks for good measure.

Strictly speaking, we didn't have to kill all those mages, but then again their sentry attacked us unprovoked. Lacking a better excuse, this'll have to do.

Now, it's going to be dark in a couple of hours. Should we go to Northkeep or Falkert?

I've also marked the roads on this map, so you can get an idea how convenient or not it is to get from one place to another.
FYI, the forests south of Northkeep and west of Falkert are easily passable. The area in the center of the map is anything but.

We're headed for Bruma, so Falkert would be ideal, but Northkeep is kind of nice place with nice people. Not that Falkert isn't. For a moment, I'm thinking of Aurora, but I'm sure the girls would insist it's not a good idea and I could hardly deny it isn't.

We'll go to Falkert for the night then.

On our way down the mountains, we discover a tower ruin. There's nothing worth discovering, really, but the view from the top is nice.

Wait, what are those tents a little way to the north? Looks like a military camp.

We run there and indeed, it's Falkreath Imperial Camp. Wow.

Now we're so close to Northkeep already that it would make little sense to travel to Falkert in darkness. We'd better idle away the rest of the evening in Northkeep.

After a few hours of sitting at the inn and gossiping with the locals, we go upstairs to sleep.



next awakening






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Always Lost, Always Hopeful (225) Firmish in My Decisions

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SPOILER INFO
This fanfic novel is largely based on the events that occurred in an actual game of Skyrim I played. Therefore, it's inevitably a spoiler.
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previous day






4-202-04-01 06:09
The Mer Inn, Granite Hall, Whiterun, Skyrim


I can't avoid Mojarik satisfying himself with me one more time, and then I'm finally able to get into my clothes and hurry to have a bath with my followers. I don't think I'll want to be with him again.

I tell the girls to give me a couple of hours alone at the shrine of Dibella west of here. They can kill time in the town or something.

The I run westwards. At the shrine, I sit down and look at the glowing coals in the firebowl.

I feel very calm for the first time after several hasty and confusing weeks. I'm not sure I did the right thing by not going to Windhelm right away, but I'm not turning back now.
I ponder the question if I should have refused to have sex with Mojarik last night, but then, all things considered, I still think I made the right decision not to ruin our relationship over one little conflict like that. Um... yes, I intend to break up with him anyway, but now at least it doesn't have to happen with a fight. And I retain the option of changing my mind.
I'm also wondering if I've been acting too slutty, but I'm forbidden to worry about it, so I dismiss that thought decisively, as I've been doing every now and then during the last months.

With that weird state of non-action in Cyrodiil, does Skyrim have a realistic chance against the Aldmeri Dominion at all?
The question is too difficult. I can't be bothered to rack my brain with something like this right now. I listen to the birds and the gentle wind and eye the objects on the altar that have been brought by unknown people as offerings (I presume). At least the Empire's secret service is still working towards thwarting the Dominion, as I had the fortune of finding out. Which reminds me – I have important information to deliver to Yrsarald, so I should have gone to Windhelm first after all. Oops! Well, I'm still not going to turn back now. I. Am. Not. Going. To. Turn. Back. Now.

I'd better get going before I fall asleep in this peaceful place. I send a telepathic signal to the girls and start walking westwards to give them time to catch up with me.

At the place where one road goes to the right across the bridge towards Markarth, we turn left, uphill to the south. I ask the girls what it was like to walk around in Hviterun in those fine Cyrodiilian clothes. They all agree it was awesome and we should do it more often. As for what to do about the shoes, they don't have an answer either. There simply aren't any available. Neither seem the people in Skyrim hold it for very important, so maybe we'd just better not sweat it either.

It's nice to be in Dushnikh Yal. I feel tempted to sit down next to the chief and idle the delightful sunny day away, but I kind of feel it wouldn't be appropriate.

So we do our shopping and get some Heavy Armor training and proceed unhurriedly to Markarth which we reach a little past 11 o'clock.

We talk to some people to make sure no Silver-Bloods have been sighted since the last time we were here. Then we go to the Fortune's Tradehouse. The delivery with Dalmyn's remains has arrived all right, but Fortune refuses to tell me what the Dwemer artifact is for. So I won't give it to him. He acts indignantly, but realizes he has no way of overpowering the four of us.

Now I suppose there's nothing more for us to do in this city. It's still early enough to explore a Nord ruin Ragnvald north of here at the request of Tolfdir and comfortably reach Karthwasten for the night, to proceed to Mor Khazgur tomorrow.

Yeah, before we leave, we'd better drop by the palace so the jarl can see we're alive and free.

My friend Faleen, the jarl's housecarl, is very happy to see me. The wizard Calcelmo, however, barely takes notice. How different can people be!

Having exited the city by the main gate, we basically need to travel north. That'll be up the mountains on our left. (This picture faces east, more or less.)

They seem utterly unclimbable here, but we're still going to try. It's good exercise.

We go up the stairs onto the city fortifications first and banter some with the soldiers. There's no way getting to the mountains from here, though (or vice versa; the fortifications are very well designed). A little way further east, however, we succeed in climbing over. On the other side, we're already seeing Ragnvald. Tolfdir has asked me to retrieve a special magical tool called Kahvozein's Fang that should be there.

We sneak closer carefully, but there doesn't seem to be anybody outside this time.

It's an ancient Nordic ruin with not too many draugrs. Much of the roof is missing:

One of those birdhead statues has fallen down:

A part of the sinister walls is covered with mysterious carvings:

It's a good thing that most of Ragnvald consists of large halls. Thanks to having plenty of space, we kill the draugrs easily.

The only difficult part is locating a switch to open an important grating blocking our way. Then we find Kahvozein's Fang and I also get a dragon shout.
[series of 3 pictures you can click through; click on the first picture to make it big, then press the right arrow to see the next picture etc.; press  Esc to return to the text]

Then we return, leaving a larger part of the ruin complex unexplored.

My time planning has been right. Karthwasten where I intended to spend the night is to our east-northeast and we'll probably reach it before it's completely dark. Directly in our path is the Shrine of Peryite. We watch a nice flock of birds fly past while a Khajiit alchemist Kesh insists on telling us about repulsive diseases and such. We find a book that suggests that some magical item may be found at a shrine of Mehrunes Dagon, another daedra, up the mountains southeast of Stonehills. I couldn't care less.

We arrive in the nice peaceful village of Karthwasten at half past 7. The miners are just going inn from work. (All right, that's not entirely true. Some of them are actually going home.) I see my boyfriend Vegard, but pretend not to notice him. I'm kind of not in the mood. I check out the mines and then join my followers at the inn. Vegard is there and looks at me expectantly. I sigh with resignation. There's clearly no way for me to get out of this civilly.

I tell Vegard I don't want to go to the mine this time. Let's walk a little way uphill behind the inn. No one is walking around at this hour and it's dark anyway. I don't mention the risk of being interrupted by wild animals and the fact that I don't really mind if it should happen.

Well, what can I say? Our lovemaking is spectacular.

The sight of the wooden houses with lit windows below us (and the inhabitants whom we can't see resting peacefully behind them) and the night sounds are so calming and soothing, and Vegard takes his time making sure I'm fucked through and through. The whole world is wonderful all of a sudden. I'm so happy I didn't give in to my hesitations! (Or, actually I was reluctant, but Vegard, being a real man, didn't care. Well, you get the idea.)

We sit a little in the somewhat cramped taproom afterwards and I go to sleep at about midnight thoroughly pleased with myself.



next awakening






return to the table of contents

Always Lost, Always Hopeful (67) Better Luck with the Forsworn

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SPOILER INFO
This fanfic novel is largely based on the events that occurred in an actual game of Skyrim I played. Therefore, it's inevitably a spoiler.
———————————————




previous day






4-201-10-23 09:28
Silver-Blood Inn, Morpork, The Reach, Skyrim


Jordis enters the taproom while the rest of us are eating breakfast. She doesn't look at all like in the mood for answering questions, but of course we won't let her off the hook. We learn that she and Hreinn made love just once last night, and she didn't have an orgasm, but she had one this morning when she coaxed him into 69.
"Isn't he a little childish?" I ask.
"Shut up! He's cute."
"Yeah, he is," I admit. And tall. Quite good-looking, in fact, as long as you don't talk to him. I mean, he's still good-looking, but the fascination is kind of ruined once you get to know his personality a little bit. But I'm not going to say that to Jordis. No point ruining her joy.
Jordis pretends to be eager to go to the palace and things. Clearly she just wants this girl talk to end. I hug her and tell her I'm happy for her, never mind our little teasing. And then we go indeed to the palace.

At half past ten, neither the jarl nor the steward has turned up in the throne room. Neither have the shops opened. Don't tell me they're on strike against the Silver-Blood mafia.

With no one answering our questions, and in fact the people's looks leaving no doubt that we'd better stop asking, we don't seem to have any other option but to leave this crazy city for good (for now).

Outside the city gate.
From left: Lydia, Laura, Jordis, Jenassa.

My plan for today is to explore the southern part of The Reach up to that mountain range which is the natural border of Skyrim, and eventually find out if there's a way to cross into another province somewhere.

We go to Dushnikh Yal and find out that I'm indeed considered an Orc-friend now, so I'm not required to part with those enchanted gloves called The Forgemaster's Fingers. (Naturally I'm not telling them I've got them, because they still want them.)

The social order in Orc villages is very different from the rest of Skyrim. They have an unwritten rule that only the village chief can have wives. This means all the people born in one village during the reign of one chief are brothers and sisters. The girls are married off to other villages once they've grown up (I have the impression that Orc women tend to get married in a somewhat older age than Nord women, so maybe they mature slower), whereas the men have to just go without a partner and work for the community in the hope of becoming the new chief someday and have a harem of their own. This can't work well if you ask me, but I prefer to keep my opinion to myself.

We walk around and talk to various people. I hit it off particularly well with a woman named Bugdurash:

I ask her if the Orc men can really have sex so often as to keep all their wives satisfied. I mean, I understand she herself is a virgin waiting for a suitable husband to be found for her, but surely women talk about such things. She says there are some tensions between the wives, but overall they're content. I ask her how the other men can stand life without sex, and isn't she being harassed or something. She says Orcs just don't do that, and they suppress their urges. It's the age-old Orc way of life. Clearly she sees nothing unnatural about it.

I realize Bugdurash has very little idea of the world outside the village, and it's better kept that way. So I bring the conversation to more material topics. It would appear that Orcs are especially skilled in mining and smithing. In fact, more than half of the villagers seem to work in the mine nearby.

Later, I strike up a conversation with one of the blackmiths, Gharol. She asks me to bring a sword from her to someone I've already met briefly – the miner Lash in Karthwasten who happens to be Gharol's daughter and has evidently abandoned the age-old Orc way of life.

In nice weather, we go past Arkngthamz and admire beautiful sights without discovering anything of special interest.

As far as I'm concerned, this beats Doltania, hands down.

Eventually we end up in a big elaborate complex of bridges and aqueducts with staircases and open spaces with tents between them. And forns, as well as a couple of hagravens.

No, I can't see anyone up there either. I'm just sensing there has to be someone.

Navigation in this place called Lost Vally Redoubt is hopeless, especially in darkness. After we've killed a great number of forns, we spend considerable effort finding a way out. We're actually headed southeast, but there are only high mountains absolutely impossible to ascend from this side. To our north is the Morpork–Windhelm highway. With great care, in order to not fall to death, we succeed in descending onto the riverbank opposite Granite Hall.

We swim across. It's 10 in the evening already, but since we're on a main road, reaching Northkeep will be no problem at all. Along the way, we meet a group of Companions fighting a bear, admire the most awesome night sky on the road leading south, and arrive in Northkeep shortly before 11 o'clock.
[series of 3 pictures you can click through; click on the first picture to make it big, then click again to see the next picture etc.; press  Esc to return to the text]

I find myself utterly fascinated by the barmaid Nania, but I'm unsure if she would be receptive to my advances. I ask her about her life situation, trying to sound casual. Turns out she's married. Since she has gorgeous breasts which certainly don't need any magical enhancing, I can see no way of ingratiating myself with her. So I just go to sleep. At least the lodging here is cheap, only 25 septims per person. Located on a lively road, they are surely doing good business in spite of the modest price.



next awakening