Deflorator's game, 29 Sun's Dusk – 2 Evening Star (Falkert – Helgen – Ivarsted)

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SPOILER INFO
This unfinished story follows closely my actions in an actual game, so it's inevitably a spoiler.
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previous chapter






The author has chosen to remove the text of this unfinished game report, because he is no longer happy with it.

Wow. It really pays off to be on good terms with Siddgeir.

The imp camp south of Ivarsted where we were earlier today.

next chapter

Always Lost, Always Hopeful (249) Soaked before Freezing

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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






4-202-04-25 07:26
Keepers' Inn, Northkeep, Falkreath, Skyrim


It's a fine sunny morning. We walk around a little, but the shops evidently don't open until 9 and I won't wait that long. We run to the Half-Moon Mill (see next picture), say hello to Hert and have a wash in the river.

Halfway to Falkert, a pouring rain begins. We put on speed and are delighted to finally reach the inn. Shasien, my boyfriend of sorts, is there.

I'm not interested in sex right now, but he is very insistent, so I think what the heck. I don't fancy traveling with such horrible weather anyway.

My friend Valga the proprietress signals me from the other end of the taproom that we can use one of the rooms. Yeah, I'd rather go someplace more private, but considering the weather... At least there are almost no customers.

We do it in doggy style and it's very good, actually. I'm glad I let myself be persuaded. And Valga doesn't even charge Shasien for the room.  ;-)

The weather hasn't gotten better. Well, maybe the rain has eased a little, but a thunderstorm has started. We leave for Helgen all the same, the girls and I. Can't hang around here forever.

We run quickly past that bandit place between Falkert and Helgen – so quickly in fact that not only do the bandits miss us, even their horrible trap about which I had completely forgotten reacts too slowly and the avalanche of big stones reaches the road when we are already safely away. But then I remember I'm under the orders to kill all bandits encountered, so we turn back and shoot the ambushing criminals dead. Only two, as it turns out.

On our way to Helgen, we end up fighting another bandit gang:

I wish we could avoid Helgen, but unfortunately the mountains to our south are unpassable, so we have to run right through the destroyed village. This means another round of bandit-slaying. Then we climb into a citadel and I show the girls the place where the dragon broke down a part of the wall and I jumped, with my hands tied, onto the second floor of a house with a partially destroyed roof:

As you can see, it's still raining.

Outside the eastern gate of Helgen are three roads that go towards Riverwood, Ivarsted and Fort Neugrad, respectively. We proceed along the last one. It goes uphill and the rain is soon replaced by a heavy snowfall. Just short of Fort Neugrad (on the left in the next picture), we turn right towards the border crossing.

The snowfall lessens by the time we reach the abandoned Thalmor Checkpoint. At the Pale Pass border post, however, there's a skirmish between the Imperial soldiers and the thalmors. It's quite chaotic and hectic. We have to do a lot of running around, but finally all the thalmors are killed.

What's going on here, I ask one of the soldiers. Is it always like this? He informs me that they are attacked by groups of thalmors occasionally. But what have they lost here, I wonder. I understand they are being expelled from Skyrim and not too gently, but why are they trying to break through to Cyrodiil instead of going to Hammerfell to join the main Aldmeri forces? The soldier shrugs and suggests maybe there are different warring factions within the Dominion. Yeah, that would be good news. Well, whatever. Is it at least peaceful in Bruma County? Yes, he says, as far as he knows. Fine, we shall proceed then.

We go through the gate, run past the Fort Pale Pass and step briefly into the Snowstone Rest inn to say hello to Erlus, Arnoth and Scruffy. There's heavy snowfall outside again and just about enough light to see the road.

We're attacked twice by bandits and see a nice fox. A brief stop at the Eastern Watchtower, and a couple of minutes past 9 in the evening we walk in through the southeastern gate of Bruma.

Just like the first time we came here, we take the first street left, only this time we walk past The Restful Watchman without entering. We pass through the empty marketplace, past the big temple and up the stairs to the Jerall View Inn. (Could have gone straight ahead from the gate, I know. Just being nostalgic.)

The taproom is full of merry people. I can't find Dar'taqto, though. I walk up to the proprietor Stantus. Before I can open my mouth, he says: "No, I don't know where he is. Welcome back all the same."

I laugh in spite of myself. Lydia and Ambric are already hugging and kissing. Jordis and Jenassa have sat down next to a couple of men. "Can I do anything for you?" asks my friend the adventurer Stenar. "No, thank you," I reply, smiling coyly.

I go out to take a walk. Along the near-empty streets, I stroll past the Synod building and decide to step in. I ask Cadius how's it going and such, and he ends up telling me that they're having a bit of a problem with necromancers in the Underpall Cave southwest from here. You may remember, it's the one that had a graveyard in a cavern. We explored a part of it, but of course Cadius doesn't need to know that. I promise him I'll go and have a look one of these days. Then I take another street back to my inn, chatting a little with a female guard along the way and asking among other things if she has seen my friend Janieta (the Imperial soldier we rescued from the mage bandits). The guard says she has seen her occasionally and she can tell her I'm back in the city if she sees her. I reply that I'd appreciate it. Then I walk slowly back towards the inn. Somehow the air feels especially fresh on the street and I'm reluctant to go indoors. I walk to the Jucani house and back, and then I enter the inn after all. There is no sign of Dar'taqto and the girls seem to... how should I put it... have a good enough time without missing my company, so I just go to sleep.



next awakening






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Always Lost, Always Hopeful (236) Just Leave

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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






4-202-04-12 09:51
Silverlode, Mines of Moria, The Rift, Skyrim


Somehow Silverlode looks especially beautiful in the morning. I can't tell if it's because the outside light is entering this place somehow, or I am simply in a better mood after a good night's sleep.

There doesn't seem to be anything to find here, so we return to the Mine Shaft where the scenery is far from heartwarming:

Beautiful as some parts of Mines of Moria may be, I still generally hate it. We've been all over it and there's no one to talk to and nothing valuable to find and not even a way out. More precisely, there is an exit where we came in from, but it's inaccessible. The only place left for us to go is that Southern Abyss. But maybe there's no exit there either and we'll just end up massacring an enormous amount of Falmers and end up none the wiser? I don't want to do that and potentially risk my followers' lives for nothing. So I beg Bardslayer to get us out of here. He lets us access that inaccessible exit which brings us back to the lakeshore near Heartwood Mill.

The sky and the trees and the birdsong and the splashing of the water work wonders on my despondent mood. Even before we've reached Sunguard City, I feel exultant. Suddenly the whole world seems joyful.

During our round of shopping, I notice I've picked up this charming pitcher somewhere:

I won't sell it. I'll take it home to Hviterun.

We now head for Ivarsted and even reach it before dark.

We visit the shop first and then the inn. That jerk Bassianus... I really can't tell you in his own words what he says to me, but it amounts to a promise to sexually satisfy all four of us.

"Okay," I reply and point towards the nearest room with my jaw. Together with my bewildered followers, we walk into the room where I turn to Bassianus and say:
"I have an offer you won't be able to refuse."
It must be something in the tone of my voice (or maybe it's my facial expression) that makes his hands stop in the air halfway to my breasts. His vulgar grin remains on his face somewhat uneasily. "What?"
"You leave Ivarsted right now and never come anywhere near here. As a return favor, I won't kill you."
He's no longer grinning. He knows any words would be useless. He's stepped over the line one too many times. Jumped far over the line, in fact. "Okay," he says meekly.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Are we supposed to open the door for you?"
He comes out of his trance, mumbles "No," and leaves hurriedly.

The girls just stare at me.
"Wow," Lydia finally manages to say.
Jenassa is the next to regain some of her composure. "I didn't know you could be so..." She seems to swallow the word that was on her tongue and continues: "...persuasive."
I'm at loss for words. "I was actually going to threaten him with something else, but then I found I couldn't say it," I explain.
This seems to have relaxed the mood. I can see the hint of a smile on Jordis and Jenassa's faces. Lydia asks: "Shall I follow him and make sure he doesn't go to see Fastred?"
"Yes, please." I walk to the bed while she leaves. "Let's sit down for a while."
I'm exhausted. Mentally, that is. I've been wanting to kill Bassianus for a long time. I'm sure if he had gone away with Fastred, he would have dumped her in two months, if not sold her to someone like Dar'Jidarr. I mean, Sibbi Black-Briar was at least charming, but Bassianus is just... Poor Fastred! Whom can she find in a backwater like this? She ought to be living in a place like Hviterun.
"Can you imagine Bassianus wooing Carlotta?" asks Jordis after I've told them all this.
"He'd drive her right into the arms of Mikael," I reply, after which we howl with laughter for some time. But I actually wanted to discuss our plans. We'll be traveling west through the mountain pass, that's certain. I think I want to go to Falkert first, to bring all those Ayleid artifacts to the collector Nuri. Then we might take a trip to Dreamborne Isle. However, as I've told you in the past (even several times, I think), going to such a stunningly scenic place, we really ought to take a man with us. Apart from which, I want to do a round of crafting, and we can't do it in Ivarsted because it doesn't have an Arcane Enchanter.
"There is one in Falkert," says Lydia who has returned in the meantime.
"Yes, but there are no good men in Falkert... I think."
"I suppose Lorm is absolutely out of the question?"
This enquiry from Jordis that strictly speaking should be qualified as a very bad joke does in fact leave me silent for ten or twenty seconds. (Lorm, in case you have forgotten, lives in Aurora which is halfway between Falkert and Aulbryn's House.)
"I guess so," I finally reply. "Come to think of it, fetching Valdimar from Hviterun isn't actually too much effort."
Lydia agrees. "Doesn't compare to finding one's way out of Moria."
I find this  a very bad joke, but with the girls laughing, I can't help doing the same.

Before we leave, I hug the girls and say I'm sorry I brought them to those Dungholes of Moria. They know it's not my fault (and so, for that matter, do I), but they know me long enough by now to just keep their mouths shut.

Back in the taproom, I exchange a bright smile with our friend, the bard Lynly-Svidi. The next moment I realize I really ought to go and talk to Fastred, but I can't. I have no idea what to say to her.

But Lynly owes me a favor, doesn't she? And she knows just as well as I do what kind of a scumbag Bassianus is. So she agrees to explain Fastred that Bassianus was no good. Maybe it's even better that I won't tell Fastred myself. I hate Bassianus too much.

Lynly is disappointed I want to proceed towards Falkert today, but she makes me promise to make time for chatting with her (and maybe Fastred, too) the next time I'm here.

We visit briefly the two military camps between here and Helgen. It's snowing west of the mountain pass, but we're lucky to still have decent visibility.

We pass by Helgen without entering (even though we can hear there are bandits inside, but I'm just not in the mood for fighting right now) and reach Falkert when it's not even completely dark yet. The innkeeper Valga is most eager to hear where we have been and what we have done.

My boyfriend, the traveler Shasien is also at the inn, and I wonder if he would agree to come to Dreamborne Isle with us, but I am too preoccupied with the question if this town really has an Arcane Enchanter in the jarl's house like Lydia said. Yes, it has. This means I can do my crafting here and sell our loot tomorrow. I leave the girls to fill Valga in on the news while I set to work, which lasts until half past 4 in the morning.



next awakening






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Always Lost, Always Hopeful (10) Emotions over Sense

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






4-201-08-26 06:03
Dead Man's Drink, Falkert, Falkreath, Skyrim


The inn is less crowded in this ealy hour. At the breakfast table, Valga tells me that a party of hunters led by a man named Valdr has gone missing somewhere in this region. Then I have a chat with another guest, Wilaar Wood-Strider. He calls himself a "praefect" and boasts how important he used to be and how he has been all over the world and done important things he can't tell to just anyone about. Yawn. It's big deeds that impress me, not big words. Anyway, he wonders if the four of us mercenary girls  would help him destroy some kind of a bandit gang, lead by a "Dark Elf bastard". Their base is behind mountains and very hard to reach, though.
I remain noncommittal. There's no reason for me to be rude to Wilaar, but I've much more interesting things to do than going on a wild elf chase with someone whose abilities don't quite seem to match his high opinion of himself. Neither, must I say, do I appreciate him calling us mercenaries.
(Not "wild elf chase", Jenassa educates me later. Wild Elves were an ancient people, extinct by now.)

The only good thing about Wilaar is that when we talk about geography, he corrects my mistake of assuming that Tamriel is the name of this world. The planet is actually called Nirn and Tamriel is one of its continents. Not that it has much importance, of course, but I like to be as precise in my terminology as I can. Things are confusing enough with a location sometimes having different names (such as Solitud which some people spell as Solitude) and occasionally one word meaning different things. Most absurdly, Imperial  is one of the races (the innkeeper Valga is an Imperial), but it can also refer to things that have something to do with the Empire. Thus an Imperial Soldier  is not necessarily of Imperial race. Such ambiguity is appalling. It's another matter when I myself invent funny names for things, such as calling "The Drunken Huntsman" inn in Hviterun "The Drunken Husband ". That's just being witty, but when talking seriously, one ought to express oneself clearly.

My, how quickly the time passes when you're working with your mouth! The shops will be open in a few minutes. Time to go out.

I notice the jarl's house and decide to take a look inside. Before approaching the jarl, I have a chat with the steward, a nice elven woman Nenya. Jarl Siddgeir is a young man with a face that is decidedly not intelligent. When I enquire if I can do anything useful, he haughtily tells me to bring him a drink, and not just any drink but Black-Briar Mead. What? Doesn't he have a waitress of his own? I don't know if he's trying to put me in my place or put me to the test. I'm trying to keep a straight face when I walk out. All right, you big baby boy, I'll get you your bottle.

By the way, why do I always have the feeling that "Jarl" should come after the name? Like "Balgruuf Jarl", "Siddgeir Jarl" etc? I've no idea where I got this from.

Well, never mind. There's a general store near the inn, kept by a man named Solaf. I don't know why he is so strangely defensive. He warns me sternly that if I steal anything from his shop, I'll regret it. Makes me tempted to steal from his shop just for the heck of it. Or perhaps I ought to make him my boyfriend? Maybe that will loosen him up? And he's not at all bad-looking either.

It's still raining, so I go to the smithy which has a roof over the smithing facilities outside the actual house. I sit there for some time watching the blacksmith Lod at work. He mentions a dog he saw near the town recently. He wonders if I could grab it and bring it to him, as it looked like a good dog and it would be better off watching his house instead of roaming about in the woods.

That must be the dog the guard asked me about yesterday. Some people are preoccupied with a dragon, some with a dog. I tell Lod that I would need some persuasion. I only want to tease him, but he actually gives me 25 septims as advance payment. I'm a little ashamed of myself, because I don't know how I could find the dog.

After paying a visit to the alchemy shop nearby and exchanging a few words with a man selling exotic alcohol, I go to the inn. I believe to remember that my loot from yesterday contained Black-Briar Mead which I sold to Valga. Yes, it did and she's still got it. I buy one bottle back and bring it to the jarl. I find it all rather amusing. Now he tells me to eliminate a group of bandits at Knifepoint Ridge located west-northwest of the town.

I must say that Falkert looks really nice. I can remember now that I've had dreams of a different world where Falkert was called Falkreath, the same as the hold it's the capital of, and it was a puny miserable ramshackle village, possibly the most depressing place in the world to be. But the real Falkert is a beautiful town, even in the rain.

I think we'll spend the day here – have a little rest, look around, talk to people. Tomorrow we'll be off to another adventure. And it's not going to be with that poser Wilaar – that I can assure you.

First, I go to Solaf and lure him into bed upstairs. Afterwards, he's just as irate and insulting as before. What is wrong with him? Why does he have to act like he hates the whole world?

I'm profoundly disappointed by my failure to make Solaf lighten up. I feel soiled. Used. And I don't care how illogical you may say it is. I'll kill him someday, when my status here is high enough. I've been told you can get away with a lot in Falkert when you're friends with Jarl Siddgeir.

I take a walk around town. After a few casual conversations, I step into a house near the watermill. It's filled with mysterious brown light and looks abandoned. I find some journal pages written by someone saying he has turned into a monster and adores some woman. There's a door in the cellar that needs to be opened in some clever way. Frankly, I'm not interested. I go out again and exit through the southern town gate, strolling southwest to clear my head and, who knows, maybe find that dog Lod is looking for.

The dog turns out not difficult to find at all. Far from roaming about in the woods, it sits in the middle of the road just out of the guards' sight as if waiting for me. When I approach, it says: "You are exactly what I was looking for."

Very well. What might he be looking for, then?
The dog says he has fallen off with his master, and asks me to help him make up with him.
I sense very strongly that there's something evil connected with that animal. It must be something Bardslayer knows from his experience beyond my cognition.
So I tell the dog I won't do it. He responds haughtily to come and find him when I'm "ready to do something useful". I shrug and walk back to town, my head filled with gloomy thoughts.

Passing by the stables outside the town gate, I strike up a conversation with Miles, the man who sells horses. I can't help myself. I have to flush that scumbag Solaf out of me, so to speak. Miles and I go a little further from the house and make love in the midst of stunning scenery and lovely birdsong.

As Miles goes back to his business, I stroll back towards the town gate. Passing by Miles's house, I decide to take a quick peek inside – you know, just to get a general impression of his living conditions. There's a double bed and a woman, apparently his wife. This is not my lucky day. I hope at least she won't find out what her husband and I just did.

In a downcast mood, I walk through the gates back into the town:

Lod accepts my explanation that it might be better to stay away from that dog. I'm disappointed that he refuses to take his 25 septims back, but I'm obviously not going to start a fight over this.

After that, I just idle away a couple of hours. My followers are sitting at the inn and having a good time. I don't want to ruin their evening with my current mood, so I just walk in random directions and end up stepping in to the guard barracks:

Then I stroll around in the darkness, talking a few words with the few passersby.

I stand a while next to a beautiful statue and absent-mindedly watch the guards patrolling the streets. It gives me the feeling of safety. A man named Thadgeir asks me to bring a package to Runil, the priest. I do that, and it improves my mood somewhat. Then I return to the inn after all and basically just listen quietly to my girls' chatter. At quarter past 11, I decide to turn in. Tomorrow will be a better day. It's bound to.



next awakening






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Always Lost, Always Hopeful (9) Mustn't Get Too Cocky

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SPOILER INFO
This fanfic novel is based on the events that occurred in an actual game of Skyrim I played. Therefore, it inevitably reveals a lot about the game.
———————————————




previous day






4-201-08-25 04:00
Orphan Rock, Falkreath, Skyrim


Like I have planned earlier, we head west. I intend to check out Little Vivec in pursuit of Mr. Hlaalu's quest and then travel around the western end of Lake Ilinalta (yesterday we circumvented it from the east) returning to Hviterun.

It's still dark when I arrive in Helgen. I realize I have left my followers behind. They may be much better fighters than I am, but they can't keep up with me running. I see a couple of bandits ahead. Normally I would wait for the girls to catch up, but after our astonishing success with the Orphan Rock witches yesterday, I don't even bother to sneak. I draw Nettlebane, run straight into them and kill them without any difficulty. This weapon is really great. Then my girls finally deign to turn up and we kill another couple of bandits somewhat farther away. It was a piece of cake. The only tricky part is locating the exit at the other end of the village.

At this point, I change our plans slightly. The girls have mentioned that there is a town west of us. It's Falkert, the capital of Falkreath Hold. I figure that since we're so close to it, we'd better check it out. I'd really like to see what another hold capital looks like, and it seems to be only a slight detour on our way to Little Vivec.

Hi, foxie! You can run with us. I won't let anyone hurt you.

We encounter a rather arrogant Orc on the road. Normally I would let it slide and walk the other way, but in my current mood I decide to tell him where to get off. I just feel like putting my fighting skills to the test.

He's extremely tough. Even with Nettlebane, I wouldn't stand a chance. Fortunately, my followers kindly shoot arrows into him, so with the help of the Healing  spell and health potions, I finally succeed in surviving until he's dead. We feel a bit like a group of prehistoric hunters having brought down a mammoth. But it was also a reminder that it's not a good idea to invite trouble.

Under the rays of the rising sun, we arrive at a lonely house called Pinewatch.

It looks abandoned. Or maybe it's been chosen as a hideout by a couple of bandits engaged in some shady "business"? Let's find out.

There is one man downstairs who attacks us in a blind rage as soon as he sees us. So we have to kill him. Why can't people realize that not every stranger is an enemy? We could have just sat and had a civilized conversation.

Now, since we're here and have been met with hostility, we steal everything from this house. While doing that, I notice a button on the wall. Pressing it opens an entrance behind a cupboard. It leads into a dungeon.

We pass through very big caves. They're full of crumbled stone blocks and a large number of barrels. And bandits every once in a while, just as hostile as the man in the house was.

In one fight I get knocked down. I'm scared out of my wits, but my followers succeed in defeating the bandits after a hard fight. I dread to think what those truculent unwashed barbarians might have done to us. They would have had the party of their lives – at our expense. Then again, it would have served us right. We were the ones who invaded their home just out of idle curiosity.

Did I say "unwashed"? Gods, I'm sorry. Those men are in fact remarkably clean. And there's something very ironical I have to tell you about. I've been desperately short of cash and therefore reluctant to buy soap. I've been hoping to find some in places that I loot, or at least come across ingredients from which I could brew some soap myself. Strangely enough, I've found neither. Hopelessly frustrated, I recently bought a bar of the cheapest soap. And now I've struck a real soapmine. I have found something like 30 bars of different kinds of soap here in this dungeon. And, as I said, the bandits are far from unwashed. In fact, they seem to be real cleanliness freaks. I wonder how does a rough brute living underground end up owning – and using! – such incredible quantities of soap.

We move on. Through a gantlope of terrible traps, we arrive in yet another big cave. There's a little platform with a screen. I sneak around the screen and there is a bed with a bandit, sleeping peacefully like a baby. I kill him. Then I discover it's a she. Rigel Strong-Arm she calls herself, as I gather from the letters lying about. Well, strong-arm maybe, but certainly not strong-brain, resting here in blissful tranquility while her men were fighting for their lives. Some leader!

And I'm not the only one with that opinion:

I find a few bars of soap. I look with surprise at Vera who has burst out laughing. A couple of seconds later I join her as it dawns to me. It was that Rigel woman who forced those bandits to pay so much attention to their personal hygiene. We howl with laughter, the four of us, tears running down our cheeks.

It'll get dark outside soon, but the town of Falkert can't be very far, so I decide against spending the night here. What I didn't expect is that we need more than two hours to get back to the house and onto the road. No sooner are we out that we hear loud roaring. Don't tell me it's a dragon. Yes, it is. He's attacking someone nearby. I can't understand what's going on. There can't be a settlement here. Whatever. We try to look unimportant and walk away, but the dragon won't let us. He attacks us from the air and eventually lands behind the house. I shoot arrows into him. My followers are fighting him and there are also some male voices. It's too dark to see who they are.

The hardest part in fighting a dragon is his unpredictable movement. It's practically impossible to shoot at someone who is flying directly above your head. Fortunately, this dragon is decent enough to sit on the ground much of the time, so we are finally able to kill him. I sigh with relief when I see my girls are alive and well. Those men, though, whoever they may have been, are nowhere to be found.

We return to the road to finally get going towards that damned town. And now we see what the dragon was attacking when we were coming out of the house. There's a bandit encampment nearby. They have a wooden bridge that goes across the road high above. Apparently they are sitting there, ambushing passersby. They were, I mean. They're all dead now.

Soon we arrive at the gate of the Falkert town. The guard asks me if we saw a dog on the road. What? I can tell you where you can find a dragon corpse, but I honestly can't be bothered with anyone smaller than a sabercat right now. I get rid of the guard as politely as I can and we hurry to find an inn. We all badly need a bath.

It's past 10 in the evening and the inn is full of noisy and jovial people. I approach the proprietress Valga who informs me that the jarl wants a dragon killed in a place called Ancient's Ascent and offers a reward. She doesn't quite understand why my incessant yawning is suddenly interrupted by a chuckle. I'm too tired to explain anything. Can we have a room for the night, please? Only 30 septims per person? I love this town. I love that bathroom. I love that bed. No, thank you, I don't need anything else. Good night.



next awakening






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