shongo3258
Vampire of Skyrim
When you beheaded the guy do you have that perk by now or was that just storytelling.
Nogar's Tales- The Dragon-Wolf's Diary
- Thread starter TamrielsSavior
- Start date
TamrielsSavior
The Dark Nord of Helgen
I was storytelling splitting his head in half from top to bottom down to his neck.
Still have about 10-11 skill levels to get that perk, unfortunately. I'm saving a point just for that, though!
shongo3258
Vampire of Skyrim
yeah its not exactly useful but its so badass I don"t even care.I was storytelling splitTing his head in half from top to bottom down to his neck.
Still have about 10-11 skill levels to get that perk, unfortunately. I'm saving a point just for that, though!
TamrielsSavior
The Dark Nord of Helgen
Seriously, you don't need it and can still get higher level perks without it, but it's nearly impossible to pass up. That and I've never gotten a character advanced enough to get it, one OR two handed, so I can't wait!
TamrielsSavior
The Dark Nord of Helgen
17th of Frostfall, 4E 201
By Talos, I can’t stand going to Falkreath. All anyone ever wants to talk about over there is death. Everything is named after death. With any luck, it will be some time before I ever have to go back there again. I can’t stand talking to that lazy Jarl, Siddgeir, but only he gives out the rewards for bounty contracts. Seems the only thing he wants to have any control over is mead and money.
I gladly took the 400 septims from him though, and quickly left his long-house to see if anyone else had anything useful for me to do or purchase. I went to see Zaria, the alchemist, and bought a couple of recipes from her, but she was unable to help show me how mix them properly. I guess the fear poison and new invisibility potion will have to wait until I get back to Arcadia in Whiterun.
As I went around the next corner, there was an older nord chopping some wood, and big surprise, he wanted to talk about death. His name is Thadgeir, and at least his tale was somewhat compelling, as he told me about his friend’s passing. Berit was his name, and he was a great warrior who had lived to a ripe old age, rare for most warriors! Thadgeir asked me to bring his ashes to the graveyard caretaker, Runil, promising me a small sum of coin should I do it. Appreciating his friend’s honor, I agreed, and took the small urn with me.
The problem was, this Runil was nowhere to be found! I walked all over town, ended up talking to almost every person I saw, but couldn’t find him. He wasn’t at the hall of the dead, the Jarl’s long-house, any of the shops or wandering any of the streets. I asked the blacksmith, Lod, if he had seen Runil anywhere, and he mentioned that sometimes he has lunch at the inn, Dead Man’s Drink. I told him I would go and check, but that I would be back. I was curious to see if he had any kind of gear or weapons that would be an upgrade over my current things.
So after wasting much of the morning searching, I finally found Runil at the inn, but was dismayed to see that he is an altmer. I felt like I was betraying Berit’s memory by giving the ashes of such a fine nord to someone who is in all likelihood a thalmor agent! He is the keeper of the cemetery, though, and it was Thadgeir’s wishes, so I conceded. He did give me another 400 septims, at least, far more than I was expecting for such a menial task. He also asked me if I could go retrieve his journal for him in some cavern at the far end of Lake Ilinalta. Now, I appreciate a person’s journal as much, or more, than anyone, but I can’t bring myself to help out this high elf. Something about him just doesn’t sit right, and if he lost his journal over there, why doesn’t he go and get it himself? I told him if my path ever took me there, I would take a look for it, but made him no promises nor gave him any expectations.
As I walked out of the inn, with my satchel a little heavier from the extra coin, I went back to Lod’s to see if he had anything worthy of lightening my load. I wasn’t disappointed, as he had something I had never seen before, a dwarven battleaxe! It was only a little bit heavier than my steel one, but does considerably more damage, and once I had Lod improve it with one of the Dwemer metal ingots he had on hand it became even more powerful than that old orcish war-hammer I used to use, without all the extra weight!
I thanked Lod for his help and bid him farewell, anxious to take my leave of Falkreath. I looked around a bit to say goodbye to Thadgeir, but couldn’t find him. I don’t have much use for anyone else in the city, so I just left, hoping to get back to my towers by nightfall.
By Talos, I can’t stand going to Falkreath. All anyone ever wants to talk about over there is death. Everything is named after death. With any luck, it will be some time before I ever have to go back there again. I can’t stand talking to that lazy Jarl, Siddgeir, but only he gives out the rewards for bounty contracts. Seems the only thing he wants to have any control over is mead and money.
I gladly took the 400 septims from him though, and quickly left his long-house to see if anyone else had anything useful for me to do or purchase. I went to see Zaria, the alchemist, and bought a couple of recipes from her, but she was unable to help show me how mix them properly. I guess the fear poison and new invisibility potion will have to wait until I get back to Arcadia in Whiterun.
As I went around the next corner, there was an older nord chopping some wood, and big surprise, he wanted to talk about death. His name is Thadgeir, and at least his tale was somewhat compelling, as he told me about his friend’s passing. Berit was his name, and he was a great warrior who had lived to a ripe old age, rare for most warriors! Thadgeir asked me to bring his ashes to the graveyard caretaker, Runil, promising me a small sum of coin should I do it. Appreciating his friend’s honor, I agreed, and took the small urn with me.
The problem was, this Runil was nowhere to be found! I walked all over town, ended up talking to almost every person I saw, but couldn’t find him. He wasn’t at the hall of the dead, the Jarl’s long-house, any of the shops or wandering any of the streets. I asked the blacksmith, Lod, if he had seen Runil anywhere, and he mentioned that sometimes he has lunch at the inn, Dead Man’s Drink. I told him I would go and check, but that I would be back. I was curious to see if he had any kind of gear or weapons that would be an upgrade over my current things.
So after wasting much of the morning searching, I finally found Runil at the inn, but was dismayed to see that he is an altmer. I felt like I was betraying Berit’s memory by giving the ashes of such a fine nord to someone who is in all likelihood a thalmor agent! He is the keeper of the cemetery, though, and it was Thadgeir’s wishes, so I conceded. He did give me another 400 septims, at least, far more than I was expecting for such a menial task. He also asked me if I could go retrieve his journal for him in some cavern at the far end of Lake Ilinalta. Now, I appreciate a person’s journal as much, or more, than anyone, but I can’t bring myself to help out this high elf. Something about him just doesn’t sit right, and if he lost his journal over there, why doesn’t he go and get it himself? I told him if my path ever took me there, I would take a look for it, but made him no promises nor gave him any expectations.
As I walked out of the inn, with my satchel a little heavier from the extra coin, I went back to Lod’s to see if he had anything worthy of lightening my load. I wasn’t disappointed, as he had something I had never seen before, a dwarven battleaxe! It was only a little bit heavier than my steel one, but does considerably more damage, and once I had Lod improve it with one of the Dwemer metal ingots he had on hand it became even more powerful than that old orcish war-hammer I used to use, without all the extra weight!
I thanked Lod for his help and bid him farewell, anxious to take my leave of Falkreath. I looked around a bit to say goodbye to Thadgeir, but couldn’t find him. I don’t have much use for anyone else in the city, so I just left, hoping to get back to my towers by nightfall.
shongo3258
Vampire of Skyrim
Nogar seemed very mad and annoyed with Falkreath in this entry. The emotion is seeping through my monitor.
TamrielsSavior
The Dark Nord of Helgen
I had never really cared about Falkreath one way or another, but seeing it through Nogar's eyes was amazing and frustrating at the same time. And stupid Runil, couldn't find that bastard anywhere!
TamrielsSavior
The Dark Nord of Helgen
19th of Frostfall, 4E 201
I’m sitting here atop the Valtheim Towers debating a rather difficult decision. The events of the past day have only served to further cloud my path. I am weighing four different options, unsure of which way to go. Perhaps I will find the answer at the bottom of this bottle of ale…. I guess not, better try a bottle of mead instead.
First off, I am anxious to reach Windhelm, to try and speak with Ulfric Stormcloak and join his rebellion, to bring justice to General Tullius and the whole of the empire for their desecration of my family and their unwillingness to stand against the Thalmor. Unfortunately, several other things happened today which have distracted me from this goal.
When I arrived back at Whiterun this morning, I immediately checked in with Farkas at Jorrvaskr, anxious to join the ranks of the Companions. He told me that while I have shown improvement, especially with my battleaxe, I would be throwing my life away by trying to retrieve Wuuthrad without further improving my armor and blocking skill first. He suggested continuing to pursue bandits and outlaws in the surrounding areas, improving my skills to the point that I am worthy to join their ranks.
As I left Jorrvaskr, disappointed, I saw a woman sitting underneath the dying tree near the statue of Talos. It turns out she is a priestess of Kynareth, named Danica, and she is the caretaker of the temple in Whiterun. She also claims to be responsible for the dying tree above her. She told me that the tree is supposed to be a token of the strength and solidarity of Skyrim, and it is as broken as the whole of the land right now. In order to fix it, she would need a special sword that can procure sap from the only flourishing gildergreen tree left in Skyrim, which would restore the strength and vitality of the dying tree in Whiterun. I would have to travel far to the south, into the mountains southeast of Riverwood, and wrestle it from the grasp of a hagraven. I know not what a hagraven is, nor do I really want to know, for they sound disgusting. Some combination of a witch and a bird is surely an abomination, an affront to all that is good in Skyrim. I could not give her an answer, but told her that by the next morning I would let her know if I am able to retrieve this sword for her.
Just moments after this conversation, I came across an older woman named Fralia in the marketplace’s courtyard. It turns out she is the wife of the great Skyforge blacksmith, Eorland Grey-Mane, and she is very distraught about her son, Thorald. She is convinced that he was kidnapped by the imperials, and that their rival family in Whiterun, the Battle-Borns, is involved. She would speak no more of it in the public marketplace, and begged me to meet her in her house to discuss matters further.
I’ll admit, I was intrigued, and a little partial to fighting against the travesties committed by the imperials, so I followed her to find out more. It turns out her other son, Avulstein, has been hiding out in their house, refusing to be seen outside for fear of persecution by the Battle-Borns. His brother had left for Windhelm to join the Stormcloaks, just as I hope to do, but was supposedly captured and imprisoned by imperial soldiers. Avulstein asked if I could poke around the Battle-Borns’ to see if I could find any proof of their involvement.
I was uneasy with this request, as I am not very good at snooping around, a nord my size has trouble hiding in the shadows! Yet I was compelled to try and help, my anger at the imperials burning inside of me as I remembered what they had done to my family! I tracked down several Battle-Born family members, but they offered me little to no information other than to say that I should just accept Thorald’s death at the hands of the imperials and move on with life.
That simply wouldn’t do, so I observed as many of them as I could for the better part of the day, and was richly rewarded when one of them, Jon, went and met up with Fralia’s daughter, Olfina, in the shadows behind the Bannered Mare! It seems there is a secret relationship between them, a love affair between these battling houses, right under all of their noses! Seeing my opportunity, I confronted Jon about what I had seen, and threatened to expose his affair to both families. He quickly caved, as I knew he would, and told me there was a letter he could show me that would shed some light on the fate of Thorald.
About an hour later, I met him by the statue of Talos where he gave me a missive from the imperials which stated that Thorald is being held captive by the Thalmor!! My blood boiled a little more at the thought of those nasty high elves, and I rushed back to House Gray-Mane to inform them of what I had found.
Avulstein was outraged by the news, and vowed to head to this altmer camp to free his imprisoned brother, asking me if I would join him. I told him I would have to think about it, since the camp would take several days to travel to from Whiterun, as it is in the farthest northwestern reaches of Skyrim. It could be weeks before I returned, if not more, and I really don’t know how to get there once I reach Solitude. IF I reach Solitude.
So here I sit. 4 noble causes, 4 different directions, and 4 more bottle of mead. Talos, I beg for your guidance once again. Lead me on to your path!
I’m sitting here atop the Valtheim Towers debating a rather difficult decision. The events of the past day have only served to further cloud my path. I am weighing four different options, unsure of which way to go. Perhaps I will find the answer at the bottom of this bottle of ale…. I guess not, better try a bottle of mead instead.
First off, I am anxious to reach Windhelm, to try and speak with Ulfric Stormcloak and join his rebellion, to bring justice to General Tullius and the whole of the empire for their desecration of my family and their unwillingness to stand against the Thalmor. Unfortunately, several other things happened today which have distracted me from this goal.
When I arrived back at Whiterun this morning, I immediately checked in with Farkas at Jorrvaskr, anxious to join the ranks of the Companions. He told me that while I have shown improvement, especially with my battleaxe, I would be throwing my life away by trying to retrieve Wuuthrad without further improving my armor and blocking skill first. He suggested continuing to pursue bandits and outlaws in the surrounding areas, improving my skills to the point that I am worthy to join their ranks.
As I left Jorrvaskr, disappointed, I saw a woman sitting underneath the dying tree near the statue of Talos. It turns out she is a priestess of Kynareth, named Danica, and she is the caretaker of the temple in Whiterun. She also claims to be responsible for the dying tree above her. She told me that the tree is supposed to be a token of the strength and solidarity of Skyrim, and it is as broken as the whole of the land right now. In order to fix it, she would need a special sword that can procure sap from the only flourishing gildergreen tree left in Skyrim, which would restore the strength and vitality of the dying tree in Whiterun. I would have to travel far to the south, into the mountains southeast of Riverwood, and wrestle it from the grasp of a hagraven. I know not what a hagraven is, nor do I really want to know, for they sound disgusting. Some combination of a witch and a bird is surely an abomination, an affront to all that is good in Skyrim. I could not give her an answer, but told her that by the next morning I would let her know if I am able to retrieve this sword for her.
Just moments after this conversation, I came across an older woman named Fralia in the marketplace’s courtyard. It turns out she is the wife of the great Skyforge blacksmith, Eorland Grey-Mane, and she is very distraught about her son, Thorald. She is convinced that he was kidnapped by the imperials, and that their rival family in Whiterun, the Battle-Borns, is involved. She would speak no more of it in the public marketplace, and begged me to meet her in her house to discuss matters further.
I’ll admit, I was intrigued, and a little partial to fighting against the travesties committed by the imperials, so I followed her to find out more. It turns out her other son, Avulstein, has been hiding out in their house, refusing to be seen outside for fear of persecution by the Battle-Borns. His brother had left for Windhelm to join the Stormcloaks, just as I hope to do, but was supposedly captured and imprisoned by imperial soldiers. Avulstein asked if I could poke around the Battle-Borns’ to see if I could find any proof of their involvement.
I was uneasy with this request, as I am not very good at snooping around, a nord my size has trouble hiding in the shadows! Yet I was compelled to try and help, my anger at the imperials burning inside of me as I remembered what they had done to my family! I tracked down several Battle-Born family members, but they offered me little to no information other than to say that I should just accept Thorald’s death at the hands of the imperials and move on with life.
That simply wouldn’t do, so I observed as many of them as I could for the better part of the day, and was richly rewarded when one of them, Jon, went and met up with Fralia’s daughter, Olfina, in the shadows behind the Bannered Mare! It seems there is a secret relationship between them, a love affair between these battling houses, right under all of their noses! Seeing my opportunity, I confronted Jon about what I had seen, and threatened to expose his affair to both families. He quickly caved, as I knew he would, and told me there was a letter he could show me that would shed some light on the fate of Thorald.
About an hour later, I met him by the statue of Talos where he gave me a missive from the imperials which stated that Thorald is being held captive by the Thalmor!! My blood boiled a little more at the thought of those nasty high elves, and I rushed back to House Gray-Mane to inform them of what I had found.
Avulstein was outraged by the news, and vowed to head to this altmer camp to free his imprisoned brother, asking me if I would join him. I told him I would have to think about it, since the camp would take several days to travel to from Whiterun, as it is in the farthest northwestern reaches of Skyrim. It could be weeks before I returned, if not more, and I really don’t know how to get there once I reach Solitude. IF I reach Solitude.
So here I sit. 4 noble causes, 4 different directions, and 4 more bottle of mead. Talos, I beg for your guidance once again. Lead me on to your path!
TamrielsSavior
The Dark Nord of Helgen
20th of Frostfall, 4E 201
I awoke this morning knowing what I must do. It is not something I look forward to, but it is the only path I can follow without my conscious gnawing at me forever. I’m going to Solitude, and then beyond Solitude, to help Avulstein rescue Thorald.
I fell asleep last night with the vision of my parents in my mind. I would have done anything to have had a chance to save them back in Helgen, and my guilt at not being with them when the attack happened eats away at my soul a little bit more every day. If there is any chance at all, however small it may be, that Thorald is still alive, then I have to help. That tree won’t die in a few weeks, and while I want to help the Stormcloaks push the empire out of Skyrim, saving Thorald may serve to prove to them that I am worthy of joining their cause! And since I need to improve my fighting skills further in order to be fully initiated into the Companions, why not tear apart some Thalmor in the process?
I am heading to Whiterun once I finish my stew and bread for breakfast. I’ll stop by Arcadia’s to see if there are any good potions or poisons I can make before heading out, and then I’ll stop by the stables to rent a carriage to bring me to Solitude. I dare not travel that far alone, who knows where I would end up or if I would even survive!
I awoke this morning knowing what I must do. It is not something I look forward to, but it is the only path I can follow without my conscious gnawing at me forever. I’m going to Solitude, and then beyond Solitude, to help Avulstein rescue Thorald.
I fell asleep last night with the vision of my parents in my mind. I would have done anything to have had a chance to save them back in Helgen, and my guilt at not being with them when the attack happened eats away at my soul a little bit more every day. If there is any chance at all, however small it may be, that Thorald is still alive, then I have to help. That tree won’t die in a few weeks, and while I want to help the Stormcloaks push the empire out of Skyrim, saving Thorald may serve to prove to them that I am worthy of joining their cause! And since I need to improve my fighting skills further in order to be fully initiated into the Companions, why not tear apart some Thalmor in the process?
I am heading to Whiterun once I finish my stew and bread for breakfast. I’ll stop by Arcadia’s to see if there are any good potions or poisons I can make before heading out, and then I’ll stop by the stables to rent a carriage to bring me to Solitude. I dare not travel that far alone, who knows where I would end up or if I would even survive!
TamrielsSavior
The Dark Nord of Helgen
20th of Frostfall, 4E 201
I’m writing this in Solitude, at an inn called, let me get this right, the Winking Skeever. Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. I didn’t have time to ask the innkeeper why he called it that, as I couldn’t think straight after what I just witnessed and can barely keep my eyes open after a long day. I’m not sure where to start, so much has happened in such a short time!
As I was heading to Whiterun this morning I could see fireballs flying off in the distance. They were coming from some flaming being, which was attacking another person on the main road just over the bridge from the farms outside of town. After catching him on fire and killing him, it turned its attention to the Whiterun guards that had started firing arrows at it. Seeing my opportunity, I pulled out my golden Dwemer battleaxe and drove it straight through this monster’s head. It collapsed into a flaming pile as one of the guards told me it is a flame atronach. Nasty things. I hope I don’t run into anymore any time soon!
I went back to check on the person this atronach had just killed and found that it was a Vigilant of Stendarr. The guard mumbled something about them trying to keep Skyrim pure, whatever that means, and then walked back to the city. I was about to follow him when something caught my eye. It was a book that was sticking out of one of the vigilant’s pocket, and I could just barely make out the title: Physicalities of Werewolves. I knew I had a long ride ahead of me, so I grabbed it to read on the way to Solitude.
My mother had always told me stories about werewolves, but I had just assumed they were just that, stories, meant to scare little children into behaving. This book’s author claims them to be real! He was documenting experiments he performed on a couple of them, telling how quickly they can change and how their bones and bodies are altered during their transformations. I’ll be honest, I was fascinated by his study of these beasts. I must have read the book 3 or 4 times on the way to Solitude!
Oh, Solitude….what a place! The city is huge, the buildings are old, and the people are…..a bit odd. I was apprehensive about staying here, knowing that this is the site of the Imperial army’s base of operations, but I arrived late in the evening, tired and wet after sitting in the carriage in the rain for almost 11 hours! Having never been here before, I wasn’t about to go wandering around the mountains in the middle of the night with no rest. So I decided to go in and stay the night at the inn, trying to ignore as much as possible along the way.
Unfortunately, the Jarl and guards of Solitude had decided that tonight was a fine time to perform a public execution. I had just set foot inside the city and I saw a crowd of people standing right in front of me, all of them with their attention on the little stage in the courtyard. They were reading the man’s crimes, which was basically one: he had opened the gate and let Ulfric Stormcloak leave the city after he had killed the high king! This man was being killed, in public, for opening a gate! I was appalled, and he screamed in his defense that it had been a fair fight, man against man, both willing participants. Ulfric had won, fair and square, like a true nord, and should have been allowed to leave.
I agreed with this poor man, down to my very soul, but could do nothing for him. I watched as they pressed him down to the block, as the axe-man heaved his blade upon the prisoner, separating his head from his body in one clean slice. I was mortified, but refused to let myself look away. I watched as his head bounced off of the stone and rolled against the wall. It landed with his eyes still open, staring at me, searching straight into my heart for salvation, and finding none. Yet…
In the morning I’m leaving this beautiful yet retched city. I know the general direction of where I must go to meet up with Avulstein, but I can only hope that that is enough. I am unfamiliar with everything around me, and am surrounded by frozen mountains and imperial soldiers. The stink of them seems to have already infested my clothes, too, but with any luck that will soon be drowned out with the stains of their blood!
I’m writing this in Solitude, at an inn called, let me get this right, the Winking Skeever. Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. I didn’t have time to ask the innkeeper why he called it that, as I couldn’t think straight after what I just witnessed and can barely keep my eyes open after a long day. I’m not sure where to start, so much has happened in such a short time!
As I was heading to Whiterun this morning I could see fireballs flying off in the distance. They were coming from some flaming being, which was attacking another person on the main road just over the bridge from the farms outside of town. After catching him on fire and killing him, it turned its attention to the Whiterun guards that had started firing arrows at it. Seeing my opportunity, I pulled out my golden Dwemer battleaxe and drove it straight through this monster’s head. It collapsed into a flaming pile as one of the guards told me it is a flame atronach. Nasty things. I hope I don’t run into anymore any time soon!
I went back to check on the person this atronach had just killed and found that it was a Vigilant of Stendarr. The guard mumbled something about them trying to keep Skyrim pure, whatever that means, and then walked back to the city. I was about to follow him when something caught my eye. It was a book that was sticking out of one of the vigilant’s pocket, and I could just barely make out the title: Physicalities of Werewolves. I knew I had a long ride ahead of me, so I grabbed it to read on the way to Solitude.
My mother had always told me stories about werewolves, but I had just assumed they were just that, stories, meant to scare little children into behaving. This book’s author claims them to be real! He was documenting experiments he performed on a couple of them, telling how quickly they can change and how their bones and bodies are altered during their transformations. I’ll be honest, I was fascinated by his study of these beasts. I must have read the book 3 or 4 times on the way to Solitude!
Oh, Solitude….what a place! The city is huge, the buildings are old, and the people are…..a bit odd. I was apprehensive about staying here, knowing that this is the site of the Imperial army’s base of operations, but I arrived late in the evening, tired and wet after sitting in the carriage in the rain for almost 11 hours! Having never been here before, I wasn’t about to go wandering around the mountains in the middle of the night with no rest. So I decided to go in and stay the night at the inn, trying to ignore as much as possible along the way.
Unfortunately, the Jarl and guards of Solitude had decided that tonight was a fine time to perform a public execution. I had just set foot inside the city and I saw a crowd of people standing right in front of me, all of them with their attention on the little stage in the courtyard. They were reading the man’s crimes, which was basically one: he had opened the gate and let Ulfric Stormcloak leave the city after he had killed the high king! This man was being killed, in public, for opening a gate! I was appalled, and he screamed in his defense that it had been a fair fight, man against man, both willing participants. Ulfric had won, fair and square, like a true nord, and should have been allowed to leave.
I agreed with this poor man, down to my very soul, but could do nothing for him. I watched as they pressed him down to the block, as the axe-man heaved his blade upon the prisoner, separating his head from his body in one clean slice. I was mortified, but refused to let myself look away. I watched as his head bounced off of the stone and rolled against the wall. It landed with his eyes still open, staring at me, searching straight into my heart for salvation, and finding none. Yet…
In the morning I’m leaving this beautiful yet retched city. I know the general direction of where I must go to meet up with Avulstein, but I can only hope that that is enough. I am unfamiliar with everything around me, and am surrounded by frozen mountains and imperial soldiers. The stink of them seems to have already infested my clothes, too, but with any luck that will soon be drowned out with the stains of their blood!
TamrielsSavior
The Dark Nord of Helgen
28th of Frostfall, 4E 201
I was hoping to have made it to Northwatch Keep before running into any serious trouble, but the northern mountains of Skyrim are a dangerous place. I set out from Solitude early in the morning, still with a sour taste in my mouth from the events of the previous evening. As I headed west along the road, I heard some voices coming from below me. I crept to the edge of the rocks and looked down and couldn’t believe what I saw.
Stormcloaks! A whole camp full of Stormcloak soldiers! I wanted to run down there and recruit them to go kill some Thalmor, but there was no easy way to get down there from where I was, and then no good way to get back up, either. I will have to be sure to stop by at some point after I’m done helping Avulstein.
I pressed on, though, alone, and before long had made my way to a small town called Dragon Bridge. I chatted with some of the locals, trying to find out if any of them could guide me Northwatch Keep. No one was willing to take me there, they said they didn’t want to pick sides in this war. They also told me tales I didn’t want to believe, of both Imperials and Stormcloaks abusing the townsfolk, stealing food and lumber, not paying for their stays at the inn and even one man who claims that a Stormcloak soldier tried to have his way, forcefully, with this man’s daughter!
I was horrified, how could a noble Stormcloak sink to such depravity? It’s not like this is the spoils of war, this is an innocent girl, younger than I am, who is trying to help her family survive in this small town as best she can! No I have another reason to stop by that Stormcloak camp later. I WILL get to the bottom of this, even if I need to drag that soldier to Ulfric himself!
I stopped at the inn, too, to grab some extra food for my trek, and headed out. The innkeeper, Faida, told me that the Keep is still farther north and west, right along the coast on the other side of the mountains. She said there are 3 different ways to get there: going up the mountain pass to a road that runs through the mountain, heading farther west to skirt around the mountains before heading to the coast, or cutting through the valley between a couple of peaks to a path that leads almost directly to it.
I chose the northern road, figuring it would be a little safer even if it meant meeting up with Avulstein a bit later in the day, and I’m still paying for my decision. I took a couple of steps off of the path as it split off of the main road I was on and immediately hear the growling and roaring of a bear. I couldn’t tell where it came from, so I whirled around just in time for the bear to swipe through my shoulder armor with his claws! I was in serious trouble, and I knew it, so I unleashed my battle cry hoping to just survive!
It worked, as I was able to get back on the road and up the mountain a little ways with no trouble. Then I turned left onto the mountain pass, and trouble found me yet again. Without warning a wolf leapt from the bushes and sank its teeth into my arm. I bumped it off of me with my bow and switched to my battleaxe just in time to block its next strike. I then brought my axe down with all my strength, catching the wolf flush in the shoulder, but to my surprise it shook off my blow and began attacking again!
This was no ordinary wolf, I found out later. It is a breed referred to by the locals as an ice wolf, much heartier and stronger than its warmer-climate brothers. Instead of the usual 1 strike to fell a wolf, this version lasted until my fourth blow, getting in a couple more bites on me along the way! I don’t know why, since I had very little choice in the matter, but I felt a strange sadness killing such a great predator, and had a strange chill go down my spine as the life left his body.
I was still nursing my wounds when that…..thing attacked me. I’m still not sure what it was. I felt it before I saw it, although I can’t be sure about what I even saw. It was blue and floating, but it seemed like it wasn’t even there at times. I’ll tell you this much, when it bit and slashed me it was definitely there! I was flailing wildly with my axe, missing it entirely. I tried unleashing by battle cry, forgetting that I had just used it against that bear, and so nothing came out. I turned to flee and felt it sink its teeth into my back. Everything went fuzzy at that point, well, fuzzier than it already was, I guess.
I woke up a few days later at the Four Shields Tavern in Dragon Bridge, being taken care of by my newest innkeeper friend, Faida. She says she didn’t think I was going to make it through those first few days, but was delighted when I started stirring finally. I can’t thank her enough for her caring, and though she warns me not to go back, I must. I leave in the morning, but this time I may try to cut through the mountains to avoid that monster on the high road.
I was hoping to have made it to Northwatch Keep before running into any serious trouble, but the northern mountains of Skyrim are a dangerous place. I set out from Solitude early in the morning, still with a sour taste in my mouth from the events of the previous evening. As I headed west along the road, I heard some voices coming from below me. I crept to the edge of the rocks and looked down and couldn’t believe what I saw.
Stormcloaks! A whole camp full of Stormcloak soldiers! I wanted to run down there and recruit them to go kill some Thalmor, but there was no easy way to get down there from where I was, and then no good way to get back up, either. I will have to be sure to stop by at some point after I’m done helping Avulstein.
I pressed on, though, alone, and before long had made my way to a small town called Dragon Bridge. I chatted with some of the locals, trying to find out if any of them could guide me Northwatch Keep. No one was willing to take me there, they said they didn’t want to pick sides in this war. They also told me tales I didn’t want to believe, of both Imperials and Stormcloaks abusing the townsfolk, stealing food and lumber, not paying for their stays at the inn and even one man who claims that a Stormcloak soldier tried to have his way, forcefully, with this man’s daughter!
I was horrified, how could a noble Stormcloak sink to such depravity? It’s not like this is the spoils of war, this is an innocent girl, younger than I am, who is trying to help her family survive in this small town as best she can! No I have another reason to stop by that Stormcloak camp later. I WILL get to the bottom of this, even if I need to drag that soldier to Ulfric himself!
I stopped at the inn, too, to grab some extra food for my trek, and headed out. The innkeeper, Faida, told me that the Keep is still farther north and west, right along the coast on the other side of the mountains. She said there are 3 different ways to get there: going up the mountain pass to a road that runs through the mountain, heading farther west to skirt around the mountains before heading to the coast, or cutting through the valley between a couple of peaks to a path that leads almost directly to it.
I chose the northern road, figuring it would be a little safer even if it meant meeting up with Avulstein a bit later in the day, and I’m still paying for my decision. I took a couple of steps off of the path as it split off of the main road I was on and immediately hear the growling and roaring of a bear. I couldn’t tell where it came from, so I whirled around just in time for the bear to swipe through my shoulder armor with his claws! I was in serious trouble, and I knew it, so I unleashed my battle cry hoping to just survive!
It worked, as I was able to get back on the road and up the mountain a little ways with no trouble. Then I turned left onto the mountain pass, and trouble found me yet again. Without warning a wolf leapt from the bushes and sank its teeth into my arm. I bumped it off of me with my bow and switched to my battleaxe just in time to block its next strike. I then brought my axe down with all my strength, catching the wolf flush in the shoulder, but to my surprise it shook off my blow and began attacking again!
This was no ordinary wolf, I found out later. It is a breed referred to by the locals as an ice wolf, much heartier and stronger than its warmer-climate brothers. Instead of the usual 1 strike to fell a wolf, this version lasted until my fourth blow, getting in a couple more bites on me along the way! I don’t know why, since I had very little choice in the matter, but I felt a strange sadness killing such a great predator, and had a strange chill go down my spine as the life left his body.
I was still nursing my wounds when that…..thing attacked me. I’m still not sure what it was. I felt it before I saw it, although I can’t be sure about what I even saw. It was blue and floating, but it seemed like it wasn’t even there at times. I’ll tell you this much, when it bit and slashed me it was definitely there! I was flailing wildly with my axe, missing it entirely. I tried unleashing by battle cry, forgetting that I had just used it against that bear, and so nothing came out. I turned to flee and felt it sink its teeth into my back. Everything went fuzzy at that point, well, fuzzier than it already was, I guess.
I woke up a few days later at the Four Shields Tavern in Dragon Bridge, being taken care of by my newest innkeeper friend, Faida. She says she didn’t think I was going to make it through those first few days, but was delighted when I started stirring finally. I can’t thank her enough for her caring, and though she warns me not to go back, I must. I leave in the morning, but this time I may try to cut through the mountains to avoid that monster on the high road.
TamrielsSavior
The Dark Nord of Helgen
4th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 201
My second attempt at getting to Northwatch Keep was considerably more successful than the first. This time, when the side road branched off to the north, where the bear had attacked me before, I was ready. I carefully crept past the bear, staying up on the rocks out of its reach as much as I could, and I saw another path a little farther ahead. I sprinted over to it, and by the nine the bear decided NOT to give chase!
Just after this encounter, I came upon a small lake with an island in the middle of it. I knew from the directions Faida had given me that I had to continue west a little farther, until the mountain peak came back down to the valley’s level, then head north through the pass. Thankfully, this was much easier than I anticipated as I wasn’t attacked by anything the whole way! I stuck to the path until reaching the northernmost portion of it, where a wolf blocked my path. I feared it to be another ice wolf, and readied myself for a tough battle, but this wolf dropped after a single strike and I continued on my way.
It started to cloud over and the snow began to fall as I reached the higher elevations of the mountains, but again my path was clear. Talos must have been looking out for me, knowing that I was to do battle with the hated Thalmor, for after my last experience in this area I was lucky to escape with my life!
As I followed the path down the other side of the mountain, I began to see the edge of the land, where the freezing northern sea started. Off to my left, huddled behind some large boulders, were 3 men. I assumed, correctly as it turned out, that this must be Avulstein with the men he had put together for the raid. They had made camp in the small nook behind the rocks and I can only imagine how long they had been waiting for me, considering my extended stay at the Four Shields Inn at Dragon Bridge.
Avulstein made little mention of my lateness, save for a “glad you could finally join us” comment, to which I replied that he could have at least shown me how to get here and cleared out the wildlife for me! It made no matter, though, and did little to lighten the grave mood, for we all knew why we were here. Thorald. The poor man had been gone for Talos knows how long, suffering at the hands of those evil altmer for who knows what reason.
Avulstein had recruited 2 other men, making 4 of us total, and we laid out a plan to lay siege to this Keep. It was simple, really, charge in and hack everything we would come across into tiny chunks of Thalmor. That sounded good to all of us, so with our adrenaline flowing we ran towards the gate.
They met us head on, with 4 of them running out to engage us, while 3 archers peppered us with arrows from the small towers and bridges above the walls. We fought possessed, each of us with a massive 2-handed weapon, splitting apart their elven armor in a blur of steel, iron and my dwarven metal axe, slashing them into a pile of bleeding corpses right there in the snow. The stench of their blood almost made me gag, yet when I mentioned it to the others they said it smelled like regular blood to them. Avulstein and I then approached the main gate, while the other 2 men ran around the back entrance. One of the archers came down to meet us, but she didn’t last very long as we both landed at the same time with our mighty weapons.
Hurrying inside the gate, we saw one of our nord brothers finish off the last of the archers, but one of us had fallen. The fourth member of our group had fallen at the hands of one of these bastard high elves, and we mourned for him for a few moments. None of us held any illusions as to the stakes of our siege, and to lose only one man against 7 of them was pretty good, but it was still quite sobering to see our fallen brother painting the snow dark crimson with his nord blood. But with our blood still flowing strongly in our veins, and our hearts pounding heavy in our chests, we went inside to finish the job.
Somewhere around the fourth or fifth Thalmor warrior and second mage I started to lose count of just how many we encountered, and the foul stench of elf blood began to engulf the entire Keep. My dwarven battle-axe was making golden blurs through the air and spraying bloody red streaks of rancid elf blood on the walls. Avulstein started making up names for my blade, calling it BloodyMer, Golden Death, Elf-Rage and my personal favorite, Hackamer. We got a good chuckle out of this as we fought our way through the keep, but it was the mayhem of another battle, with the 3 of us against 4 Thalmor warriors at the bottom of a set of stairs, that led to my battleaxe’s name.
Blades and blood were flying everywhere. I had lifted my axe ready to finish off one of the elves when it happened. Our nord companion stepped in too close, and before I could even slow down my swing, it killed him, puncturing his jugular vein and snapping his neck. I gasped in horror and rage, and with 2 wild, powerful blows ended the life of the 2 remaining Thalmor. I was inconsolable, but Avulstein did his best, telling me that our friend had already been badly injured and wouldn’t have lasted much longer anyway. As we took off his helmet to lay him to rest off to the side, I realized Avulstein was right. He had several large gashes in his head already, with so much blood in his eyes and face he must not even had known I was swinging my axe down right next to him. I’m amazed he had fought for as long as he had; that brave nord, and I'm amazed at how perceptive Avulstein is, recognizing the poor condition of our friend much sooner than I would have.
As we left him, Avulstein and I vowed to visit a shrine of Talos and make an offering to him in the names of our felled comrades. It isn’t much, but perhaps it will help these fine warriors’ souls find some peace. I couldn’t stand to leave him in that place, with its foul smells only made worse by the pools of altmer blood being created, but there was little choice. It was at this point, as we started to move on, that Avulstein said to me “I’ll be sure to keep my eyes on you when you’re wreaking havoc with that thing!” So that is what I shall call my dwarven battleaxe from now on, Havoc, a fitting name for a blade that shall always remind me of my friend and his life ended too soon by my own hands.
We had to continue on, though, and made our way through a narrow hallway and into a larger room with a door over to the left and stairs to the right leading to an elevated room above us. That’s when things got really messy, as we were immediately attacked. Arrows started flying at us, launched by an archer from the higher room, flames were being shot at us by a mage to our left, and then a giant flame atronach appeared right in from of me! It had been summoned, you see, by another Thalmor mage who had come out from the closed door on the left.
No sooner had it appeared, and it was throwing fireballs at us. That wasn’t even the worst of it, as the mage who summoned it started launching fireballs and lightning bolts at Avulstein and me, too. The brunt of the attacks fell on me since I was the first one through the narrow opening, and that may be what saved my life. I charged in, unleashing Havoc on them, dropping the atronach and getting a good strike on the first mage, but then was hit with another fireball. I could smell my skin burning, and the metal of my steel armor felt like it was roasting me alive from head to toe!
I started to black out and Avulstein must have seen it, somehow. I remember him pulling me back into the hallway, but the rest of it is a blur. A couple of time I remember hitting the floor, he must have let me go to chase away the mages once in a while and I was unable to support myself. He literally dragged me back to Dragon Bridge, since I kept going into and out of consciousness, mostly out of it. I awoke late the next day in the Four Shields Tavern, in agonizing pain from my burns, which will most certainly scar my body and hands for the rest of my life. I thank Talos for having Faida here to help care for me, again. Without her care, along with some of my healing potions, I probably wouldn’t have survived.
I’m starting to feel much better now, and I’ve promised Avulstein that we shall return to that Thalmor hive in the morning. We must flush out that scum and rescue Thorald, if he is still alive. But now I must rest a little more. I’ve written more than I should have given my condition, but sometimes the words just jump out of my quill!
My second attempt at getting to Northwatch Keep was considerably more successful than the first. This time, when the side road branched off to the north, where the bear had attacked me before, I was ready. I carefully crept past the bear, staying up on the rocks out of its reach as much as I could, and I saw another path a little farther ahead. I sprinted over to it, and by the nine the bear decided NOT to give chase!
Just after this encounter, I came upon a small lake with an island in the middle of it. I knew from the directions Faida had given me that I had to continue west a little farther, until the mountain peak came back down to the valley’s level, then head north through the pass. Thankfully, this was much easier than I anticipated as I wasn’t attacked by anything the whole way! I stuck to the path until reaching the northernmost portion of it, where a wolf blocked my path. I feared it to be another ice wolf, and readied myself for a tough battle, but this wolf dropped after a single strike and I continued on my way.
It started to cloud over and the snow began to fall as I reached the higher elevations of the mountains, but again my path was clear. Talos must have been looking out for me, knowing that I was to do battle with the hated Thalmor, for after my last experience in this area I was lucky to escape with my life!
As I followed the path down the other side of the mountain, I began to see the edge of the land, where the freezing northern sea started. Off to my left, huddled behind some large boulders, were 3 men. I assumed, correctly as it turned out, that this must be Avulstein with the men he had put together for the raid. They had made camp in the small nook behind the rocks and I can only imagine how long they had been waiting for me, considering my extended stay at the Four Shields Inn at Dragon Bridge.
Avulstein made little mention of my lateness, save for a “glad you could finally join us” comment, to which I replied that he could have at least shown me how to get here and cleared out the wildlife for me! It made no matter, though, and did little to lighten the grave mood, for we all knew why we were here. Thorald. The poor man had been gone for Talos knows how long, suffering at the hands of those evil altmer for who knows what reason.
Avulstein had recruited 2 other men, making 4 of us total, and we laid out a plan to lay siege to this Keep. It was simple, really, charge in and hack everything we would come across into tiny chunks of Thalmor. That sounded good to all of us, so with our adrenaline flowing we ran towards the gate.
They met us head on, with 4 of them running out to engage us, while 3 archers peppered us with arrows from the small towers and bridges above the walls. We fought possessed, each of us with a massive 2-handed weapon, splitting apart their elven armor in a blur of steel, iron and my dwarven metal axe, slashing them into a pile of bleeding corpses right there in the snow. The stench of their blood almost made me gag, yet when I mentioned it to the others they said it smelled like regular blood to them. Avulstein and I then approached the main gate, while the other 2 men ran around the back entrance. One of the archers came down to meet us, but she didn’t last very long as we both landed at the same time with our mighty weapons.
Hurrying inside the gate, we saw one of our nord brothers finish off the last of the archers, but one of us had fallen. The fourth member of our group had fallen at the hands of one of these bastard high elves, and we mourned for him for a few moments. None of us held any illusions as to the stakes of our siege, and to lose only one man against 7 of them was pretty good, but it was still quite sobering to see our fallen brother painting the snow dark crimson with his nord blood. But with our blood still flowing strongly in our veins, and our hearts pounding heavy in our chests, we went inside to finish the job.
Somewhere around the fourth or fifth Thalmor warrior and second mage I started to lose count of just how many we encountered, and the foul stench of elf blood began to engulf the entire Keep. My dwarven battle-axe was making golden blurs through the air and spraying bloody red streaks of rancid elf blood on the walls. Avulstein started making up names for my blade, calling it BloodyMer, Golden Death, Elf-Rage and my personal favorite, Hackamer. We got a good chuckle out of this as we fought our way through the keep, but it was the mayhem of another battle, with the 3 of us against 4 Thalmor warriors at the bottom of a set of stairs, that led to my battleaxe’s name.
Blades and blood were flying everywhere. I had lifted my axe ready to finish off one of the elves when it happened. Our nord companion stepped in too close, and before I could even slow down my swing, it killed him, puncturing his jugular vein and snapping his neck. I gasped in horror and rage, and with 2 wild, powerful blows ended the life of the 2 remaining Thalmor. I was inconsolable, but Avulstein did his best, telling me that our friend had already been badly injured and wouldn’t have lasted much longer anyway. As we took off his helmet to lay him to rest off to the side, I realized Avulstein was right. He had several large gashes in his head already, with so much blood in his eyes and face he must not even had known I was swinging my axe down right next to him. I’m amazed he had fought for as long as he had; that brave nord, and I'm amazed at how perceptive Avulstein is, recognizing the poor condition of our friend much sooner than I would have.
As we left him, Avulstein and I vowed to visit a shrine of Talos and make an offering to him in the names of our felled comrades. It isn’t much, but perhaps it will help these fine warriors’ souls find some peace. I couldn’t stand to leave him in that place, with its foul smells only made worse by the pools of altmer blood being created, but there was little choice. It was at this point, as we started to move on, that Avulstein said to me “I’ll be sure to keep my eyes on you when you’re wreaking havoc with that thing!” So that is what I shall call my dwarven battleaxe from now on, Havoc, a fitting name for a blade that shall always remind me of my friend and his life ended too soon by my own hands.
We had to continue on, though, and made our way through a narrow hallway and into a larger room with a door over to the left and stairs to the right leading to an elevated room above us. That’s when things got really messy, as we were immediately attacked. Arrows started flying at us, launched by an archer from the higher room, flames were being shot at us by a mage to our left, and then a giant flame atronach appeared right in from of me! It had been summoned, you see, by another Thalmor mage who had come out from the closed door on the left.
No sooner had it appeared, and it was throwing fireballs at us. That wasn’t even the worst of it, as the mage who summoned it started launching fireballs and lightning bolts at Avulstein and me, too. The brunt of the attacks fell on me since I was the first one through the narrow opening, and that may be what saved my life. I charged in, unleashing Havoc on them, dropping the atronach and getting a good strike on the first mage, but then was hit with another fireball. I could smell my skin burning, and the metal of my steel armor felt like it was roasting me alive from head to toe!
I started to black out and Avulstein must have seen it, somehow. I remember him pulling me back into the hallway, but the rest of it is a blur. A couple of time I remember hitting the floor, he must have let me go to chase away the mages once in a while and I was unable to support myself. He literally dragged me back to Dragon Bridge, since I kept going into and out of consciousness, mostly out of it. I awoke late the next day in the Four Shields Tavern, in agonizing pain from my burns, which will most certainly scar my body and hands for the rest of my life. I thank Talos for having Faida here to help care for me, again. Without her care, along with some of my healing potions, I probably wouldn’t have survived.
I’m starting to feel much better now, and I’ve promised Avulstein that we shall return to that Thalmor hive in the morning. We must flush out that scum and rescue Thorald, if he is still alive. But now I must rest a little more. I’ve written more than I should have given my condition, but sometimes the words just jump out of my quill!
makoman8
Member
Just wanted to say that I'm thoroughly enjoying your journal. You write well and have done a very good job of having a larger image of your character that you keep in focus throughout the journal. The small hints foreshadowing what's to come are subtle, but help keep the initial concept of Nogar present.
K3V!N
Member
Just wanted to drop in and say I am really enjoying this! Definitely a well done journal and I am excited to see what happens next. Love the play style and that it is challenging for you to get past all of these quests. I can also definitely feel the character in your writing and I really like the way you aren't over the top with his emotions but more subtle. Well done!
TamrielsSavior
The Dark Nord of Helgen
Thanks, mako! Glad you are enjoying it! When I went into this, it was really important to me to stay within the character. That being said, I wish I had made him be born in 4E 183 instead of 4E 184 so he could turn 18 already!!
The good thing about Skyrim is that it gives you so many other ways to pass the time, at least, and I have been able to find ways that fit his character and ideals. And I have a feeling the hints are going to be getting bigger and less subtle pretty soon, and I have some really great ideas for his days, weeks and months to come!
TamrielsSavior
The Dark Nord of Helgen
Challenging probably doesn't do this style justice! There have been soooo many
and moments where I'm still trying to figure out how to play a 2-handed weapon guy. Oops, I missed my block, aaaaaand now I'm dead. Again. Dammit!I love it, though, and being poor all the time really makes it challenging and a bit too realistic at times!
As far as Nogar goes, he has no idea what is going on with his wolf-blood, but it is going to be bubbling up a bit more and more! Just wish Bethesda would get around to releasing Dawnguard on PS3 already! That werewolf perk tree is going to be a LOT of fun to develop with Nogar!
K3V!N
Member
Challenging probably doesn't do this style justice! There have been soooo many
I love it, though, and being poor all the time really makes it challenging and a bit too realistic at times!
As far as Nogar goes, he has no idea what is going on with his wolf-blood, but it is going to be bubbling up a bit more and more! Just wish Bethesda would get around to releasing Dawnguard on PS3 already! That werewolf perk tree is going to be a LOT of fun to develop with Nogar!
Man do I ever agree! I am one of the unfortunate ones on PS3 as well, so you're not alone! How are you getting your screen grabs being on console?
Two hand is definitely tough, haven't tried it myself but I can only imagine it takes some getting used to. I have been thoroughly enjoying the hardcore play-style myself, having to eat, being poor, and having the diminished carrying capacity really makes it feel more realistic. I have spent days foraging and catching salmon just to be able to eat and have a warm bed at night!
TamrielsSavior
The Dark Nord of Helgen
12th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 201
I have failed Avulstein, again. And for the second time in less than a week, he has saved my life. I’m back at the Four Shields Tavern in Dragon Bridge, nursing more burns from fireballs and lightning. It didn’t go much better this time than it did last time.
When we got back to the Keep and went inside it wasn’t just my nose that was offended by the smell. It was all both of us could do not to retch as we moved deeper into Northwatch Keep, again. Eight days of maggot-ridden, rotting high elves and fly-infested pools of their malodorous blood make for a horrid sight and a nauseating smell that I swear is still inside my nose. When we got to the opening to the two-level room again, I didn’t just charge in with my axe, Havoc, swinging wildly like last week. Instead, I crept close to the entrance and tried to get a sneak attack in on the archer on the elevated portion of the room with my flame-enchanted bow. I missed, and things got bad. Very bad. Very quickly.
The archer yelled to his mage companions that we were there and began charging over to the top of the stairs to rain arrows upon us. The flame atronach appeared out of thin air again just like before, and flames, fireballs and lightning bolts were streaming at us immediately. It was chaos, and we were on the wrong side of it! The lesser mage charged us with her flame spells, and Avulstein and I chopped her to bits in the narrow hallway. It was little solace though, as the atronach was roasting us alive while we did it.
Avulstein had the good sense, at least, to start backing up. I tried, but got caught in the corner of the small room, having missed the doorway while backing up. I contemplated using my battle cry, but knew that the archer and mage in the other room would be unaffected by it. The last thing I remember before feeling Avulstein’s strong hands ripping me through the doorway was the wretched smell of my own skin being charred. I’ve always been darker skinned than most nords, but will be even darker for a spell while all of my charred skin is still healing.
That Thalmor mage is so powerful. I don’t think we stand a chance against him in a fair fight. He can blast us with bolts and fireballs several times before we even get close enough to strike him with our axes. At least we took care of the lesser mage he had with him, which just leaves him and his archer friend, plus his pet atronach. It’s daunting, but I think I have an idea that just might work…
I have failed Avulstein, again. And for the second time in less than a week, he has saved my life. I’m back at the Four Shields Tavern in Dragon Bridge, nursing more burns from fireballs and lightning. It didn’t go much better this time than it did last time.
When we got back to the Keep and went inside it wasn’t just my nose that was offended by the smell. It was all both of us could do not to retch as we moved deeper into Northwatch Keep, again. Eight days of maggot-ridden, rotting high elves and fly-infested pools of their malodorous blood make for a horrid sight and a nauseating smell that I swear is still inside my nose. When we got to the opening to the two-level room again, I didn’t just charge in with my axe, Havoc, swinging wildly like last week. Instead, I crept close to the entrance and tried to get a sneak attack in on the archer on the elevated portion of the room with my flame-enchanted bow. I missed, and things got bad. Very bad. Very quickly.
The archer yelled to his mage companions that we were there and began charging over to the top of the stairs to rain arrows upon us. The flame atronach appeared out of thin air again just like before, and flames, fireballs and lightning bolts were streaming at us immediately. It was chaos, and we were on the wrong side of it! The lesser mage charged us with her flame spells, and Avulstein and I chopped her to bits in the narrow hallway. It was little solace though, as the atronach was roasting us alive while we did it.
Avulstein had the good sense, at least, to start backing up. I tried, but got caught in the corner of the small room, having missed the doorway while backing up. I contemplated using my battle cry, but knew that the archer and mage in the other room would be unaffected by it. The last thing I remember before feeling Avulstein’s strong hands ripping me through the doorway was the wretched smell of my own skin being charred. I’ve always been darker skinned than most nords, but will be even darker for a spell while all of my charred skin is still healing.
That Thalmor mage is so powerful. I don’t think we stand a chance against him in a fair fight. He can blast us with bolts and fireballs several times before we even get close enough to strike him with our axes. At least we took care of the lesser mage he had with him, which just leaves him and his archer friend, plus his pet atronach. It’s daunting, but I think I have an idea that just might work…
TamrielsSavior
The Dark Nord of Helgen
14th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 201
I’m exhausted, but happy. We found him! We found Thorald and he was still alive and still in remarkably good spirits considering what he had been through. I’m writing from the Four Shields Tavern in Dragon Bridge again, with a couple bottles of mead and a warm meal in front of me.
I knew that after what it smelled like last week, it would be so much worse this time after another week of maggots and flies feasting on rotting altmer. It would be a smell unbearable beyond belief, making it impossible to focus on the task at hand. I mentioned it to Avulstein, and he agreed. He also mentioned a tip his father had given him years ago, which involved making a paste of snowberries, wheat and a chicken egg, then adding a pinch of frost mirriam. He said that putting this paste across your nose does a pretty good job keeping the smell out, so I figured we could give it a try since I had all four ingredients and nothing to lose with the attempt.
When Avulstein and I returned to Northwatch Keep, I told him my new plan. I had found a potion the last time we had been there that allowed me to resist lightning spells to some degree, but had forgotten to use it when we had faced the powerful Thalmor mage. I was going to use that for protection, and one of the poisons I had made back in Whiterun on one of my arrows to try and take out the archer, first. I told Avulstein to focus on the atronach while I took on the mage, hoping with more even numbers we stood a better chance.
It almost worked to perfection. Unfortunately, my poisoned, fire-inducing arrow, while undetected from the shadows, was not enough to take down the archer. It was an amazing shot, though, from the deep recesses of the hallway, up over the first room into the higher second room, striking him flush in the chest. As soon as it hit, I heard the Thalmor mage conjure his atronach and knew we had to make our move, and quickly. I sprinted to the other side of the room as I felt, and heard, a fireball go flying past my head! Avulstein charged and engaged the atronach with his steel battleaxe and I ran towards the mage, dodging a lightning bolt as I went.
I got the first strike in with Havoc, but it wasn’t a full hit and the Thalmor mage acted as if he hadn’t even been touched. He shot lightning out of both of his hands, sending electric shocks coursing through my body. Even with the resistance potion, it stung and was doing significant damage to me. I tried maneuvering away from him, but the lightning followed no matter where I went. I tried fighting through it, hitting him with everything I had and again seemingly doing no damage to him whatsoever!
Then I heard an arrow go flying past my head, clanging off of the wall, missing me by an inch or two. I turned a little to try and locate the archer and saw him having just reached the bottom of the stairs, while at the same time hearing Avulstein deliver a finishing blow to the atronach. Perfect, I thought. I yelled to him “NOW” and he ran over to my side, clearing the way for me to unleash my battle cry, catching both of them! This time I ran after the archer, with Avulstein chasing down the mage.
That archer could run! He made it all the way down the hall we had come from earlier and around the corner. In his fear-induced panic I found him cowering in the corner, and brought Havoc down upon him with a mighty swing, ending his life with one blow. I turned around and sprinted back to the main room, anxious to help my nord brother bring down that ferocious altmer mage. The problem was, I couldn’t find them anywhere!
No sign of them in the hallway, or in the main room, which left me with 2 choices, up the stairs to the higher room, or down the other hallway in the mage’s sleeping quarters. I chose the latter, making down the hall and into his room, but still not finding either of them. My heart rate picked up and I began to fear the worst, when all of a sudden I heard the forceful grunt of Avulstein bringing down his axe along with the thunk-sound it made as it found its mark in the high elf's chest.
I ran back the way I had come to find both of them just inside the door to the hallway I was in, the Thalmor cornered and still suffering from the effects of my shout. Seizing the opportunity, I joined Avulstein in the slaughter, as we both leveled blow after blow upon him. I couldn’t believe his strength! He must have used some powerful magical protection spell since he had already withstood at least 4 of my strikes and 3 that I witnessed from Avulstein! He was about to stand back up and unleash some fireballs or lightning bolts upon us when Havoc finally brought an end to his filthy, racist life. My axe pierced through his back, through his heart and poked out of his chest on the other side, dripping that obnoxious high elf blood from its tip.
Having already used my battle cry, I was a little hesitant to continue through the keep, but Avulstein is an amazing compatriot and filled me with confidence and venom and the desire to press on. We approached the door at the far end of the top room, only to find it locked! I went back, searched the mage, and thankfully found a key on him that opened the door.
When we went through, there was a Thalmor guard right in front of us, who immediately called for help. Avulstein and I rushed him and began the process of splitting him open with our axes just as another mage arrived. It turns out this new adversary he was the Thalmor “interrogator” in charge of torturing Thorald for information, and he was rather powerful. In close quarters like this, though, with both of us unloading on him with our battleaxes, he didn’t stand a chance. He hit both of us with several bolts of lightning and some flames, but after what we had been through with that other mage, this was nothing.
A minute or two after it had begun the fight was over, with pools of rancid altmer blood covering the floor. We headed off to the far room where the interrogator had come from to see if Thorald was still alive. When we saw the instruments of torture that were being used, and the revolting mess that was in the room, our hopes sank. Yet there he was, chained by his wrists to the wall, but alive! He couldn’t remember how long he had been there, or what exactly he had told them, but it didn’t matter. He was still alive and was now reunited with his brother!
I stayed back a little to let them embrace and Avulstein called me forward to introduce me to his brother. I felt like I already knew him, and told him how amazing his brother is. How hard he had fought to rescue him, and how he had saved my life on more than one occasion. As is his style, Avulstein deflected all of my praise, throwing most of it back onto me, but none of that mattered. After helping Thorald up and letting him stretch out a little, he picked up a mace and proclaimed himself ready to take on anything we hadn’t left in a bloody pool on the floor!
We made our way past the entryway and down another hallway. Thorald had mentioned hearing other screams and voices from that direction. It wasn’t long before we came across 3 other holding cells, only 2 of which had someone still alive inside. I found the levers to open their gates and freed them. I guess they knew each other, for they stayed behind for a few moments to embrace and collect themselves.
We decided to press on, since there were no more weapons for them anyway, and came to another long hallway. I could see a guard sitting at a table at the end of the hall and quickly mentioned to the brothers to stay low and in the shadows. I took out my bow and poisoned another of my orcish arrows, took careful aim, and let fly an arrow from nearly 50 paces away. Like the archer before him, it hit home in his chest, lit him on fire, but didn’t kill him. We were still in the shadows, though, and he hadn’t seen us yet. I quickly notched another arrow to my bowstring and sent that one right into his neck, setting him on fire and dropping him to the ground, dead.
There was only one other Thalmor left after that, and with the three of us bludgeoning him to death, he didn’t last very long. Finally we saw the door, and heard the cold wind blowing against it outside, and knew that we were at the end of this horrible place. We went outside, glad to have some fresh air after the horrible stench that had consumed us while inside the keep, and said our goodbyes.
They didn’t dare go back to Whiterun, no matter how much Thorald wanted to see his mother. The guards, Battle-Borns and Imperials would all recognize him on sight, so they have decided to meet up with the Stormcloaks in Windhelm. I told them about the report I heard over in Dragon Bridge, and they promised to look into it on their way. With that they headed east along the coast, and I headed back up the mountains towards Dragon Bridge. I brought all the salvageable gear I could carry-it may be hideous to look at, but the Khajits pay quite well for the elven gear.
Luckily, the Khajits had their camp set up outside of Solitude, and were able to purchase all of the gear I was carrying. There was even a member there who offered to train me how to pick some elementary locks, teaching me about tumblers, pick placement and the importance of listening and breathing! It took a little longer than I would have like, but by not going into Solitude to sell my goods I still had time to make it back to Dragon Bridge before nightfall, allowing me to stay at the inn here rather than spend another night in that imperial-infested city. I will head back to Northwatch Keep in the morning to collect a few more things, and then I’m off to Whiterun to meet with Fralia. Perhaps I will break my morning fast at the ancient bridge to draw the waterfalls next to town, it is a breathtaking view!
I’m exhausted, but happy. We found him! We found Thorald and he was still alive and still in remarkably good spirits considering what he had been through. I’m writing from the Four Shields Tavern in Dragon Bridge again, with a couple bottles of mead and a warm meal in front of me.
I knew that after what it smelled like last week, it would be so much worse this time after another week of maggots and flies feasting on rotting altmer. It would be a smell unbearable beyond belief, making it impossible to focus on the task at hand. I mentioned it to Avulstein, and he agreed. He also mentioned a tip his father had given him years ago, which involved making a paste of snowberries, wheat and a chicken egg, then adding a pinch of frost mirriam. He said that putting this paste across your nose does a pretty good job keeping the smell out, so I figured we could give it a try since I had all four ingredients and nothing to lose with the attempt.
When Avulstein and I returned to Northwatch Keep, I told him my new plan. I had found a potion the last time we had been there that allowed me to resist lightning spells to some degree, but had forgotten to use it when we had faced the powerful Thalmor mage. I was going to use that for protection, and one of the poisons I had made back in Whiterun on one of my arrows to try and take out the archer, first. I told Avulstein to focus on the atronach while I took on the mage, hoping with more even numbers we stood a better chance.
It almost worked to perfection. Unfortunately, my poisoned, fire-inducing arrow, while undetected from the shadows, was not enough to take down the archer. It was an amazing shot, though, from the deep recesses of the hallway, up over the first room into the higher second room, striking him flush in the chest. As soon as it hit, I heard the Thalmor mage conjure his atronach and knew we had to make our move, and quickly. I sprinted to the other side of the room as I felt, and heard, a fireball go flying past my head! Avulstein charged and engaged the atronach with his steel battleaxe and I ran towards the mage, dodging a lightning bolt as I went.
I got the first strike in with Havoc, but it wasn’t a full hit and the Thalmor mage acted as if he hadn’t even been touched. He shot lightning out of both of his hands, sending electric shocks coursing through my body. Even with the resistance potion, it stung and was doing significant damage to me. I tried maneuvering away from him, but the lightning followed no matter where I went. I tried fighting through it, hitting him with everything I had and again seemingly doing no damage to him whatsoever!
Then I heard an arrow go flying past my head, clanging off of the wall, missing me by an inch or two. I turned a little to try and locate the archer and saw him having just reached the bottom of the stairs, while at the same time hearing Avulstein deliver a finishing blow to the atronach. Perfect, I thought. I yelled to him “NOW” and he ran over to my side, clearing the way for me to unleash my battle cry, catching both of them! This time I ran after the archer, with Avulstein chasing down the mage.
That archer could run! He made it all the way down the hall we had come from earlier and around the corner. In his fear-induced panic I found him cowering in the corner, and brought Havoc down upon him with a mighty swing, ending his life with one blow. I turned around and sprinted back to the main room, anxious to help my nord brother bring down that ferocious altmer mage. The problem was, I couldn’t find them anywhere!
No sign of them in the hallway, or in the main room, which left me with 2 choices, up the stairs to the higher room, or down the other hallway in the mage’s sleeping quarters. I chose the latter, making down the hall and into his room, but still not finding either of them. My heart rate picked up and I began to fear the worst, when all of a sudden I heard the forceful grunt of Avulstein bringing down his axe along with the thunk-sound it made as it found its mark in the high elf's chest.
I ran back the way I had come to find both of them just inside the door to the hallway I was in, the Thalmor cornered and still suffering from the effects of my shout. Seizing the opportunity, I joined Avulstein in the slaughter, as we both leveled blow after blow upon him. I couldn’t believe his strength! He must have used some powerful magical protection spell since he had already withstood at least 4 of my strikes and 3 that I witnessed from Avulstein! He was about to stand back up and unleash some fireballs or lightning bolts upon us when Havoc finally brought an end to his filthy, racist life. My axe pierced through his back, through his heart and poked out of his chest on the other side, dripping that obnoxious high elf blood from its tip.
Having already used my battle cry, I was a little hesitant to continue through the keep, but Avulstein is an amazing compatriot and filled me with confidence and venom and the desire to press on. We approached the door at the far end of the top room, only to find it locked! I went back, searched the mage, and thankfully found a key on him that opened the door.
When we went through, there was a Thalmor guard right in front of us, who immediately called for help. Avulstein and I rushed him and began the process of splitting him open with our axes just as another mage arrived. It turns out this new adversary he was the Thalmor “interrogator” in charge of torturing Thorald for information, and he was rather powerful. In close quarters like this, though, with both of us unloading on him with our battleaxes, he didn’t stand a chance. He hit both of us with several bolts of lightning and some flames, but after what we had been through with that other mage, this was nothing.
A minute or two after it had begun the fight was over, with pools of rancid altmer blood covering the floor. We headed off to the far room where the interrogator had come from to see if Thorald was still alive. When we saw the instruments of torture that were being used, and the revolting mess that was in the room, our hopes sank. Yet there he was, chained by his wrists to the wall, but alive! He couldn’t remember how long he had been there, or what exactly he had told them, but it didn’t matter. He was still alive and was now reunited with his brother!
I stayed back a little to let them embrace and Avulstein called me forward to introduce me to his brother. I felt like I already knew him, and told him how amazing his brother is. How hard he had fought to rescue him, and how he had saved my life on more than one occasion. As is his style, Avulstein deflected all of my praise, throwing most of it back onto me, but none of that mattered. After helping Thorald up and letting him stretch out a little, he picked up a mace and proclaimed himself ready to take on anything we hadn’t left in a bloody pool on the floor!
We made our way past the entryway and down another hallway. Thorald had mentioned hearing other screams and voices from that direction. It wasn’t long before we came across 3 other holding cells, only 2 of which had someone still alive inside. I found the levers to open their gates and freed them. I guess they knew each other, for they stayed behind for a few moments to embrace and collect themselves.
We decided to press on, since there were no more weapons for them anyway, and came to another long hallway. I could see a guard sitting at a table at the end of the hall and quickly mentioned to the brothers to stay low and in the shadows. I took out my bow and poisoned another of my orcish arrows, took careful aim, and let fly an arrow from nearly 50 paces away. Like the archer before him, it hit home in his chest, lit him on fire, but didn’t kill him. We were still in the shadows, though, and he hadn’t seen us yet. I quickly notched another arrow to my bowstring and sent that one right into his neck, setting him on fire and dropping him to the ground, dead.
There was only one other Thalmor left after that, and with the three of us bludgeoning him to death, he didn’t last very long. Finally we saw the door, and heard the cold wind blowing against it outside, and knew that we were at the end of this horrible place. We went outside, glad to have some fresh air after the horrible stench that had consumed us while inside the keep, and said our goodbyes.
They didn’t dare go back to Whiterun, no matter how much Thorald wanted to see his mother. The guards, Battle-Borns and Imperials would all recognize him on sight, so they have decided to meet up with the Stormcloaks in Windhelm. I told them about the report I heard over in Dragon Bridge, and they promised to look into it on their way. With that they headed east along the coast, and I headed back up the mountains towards Dragon Bridge. I brought all the salvageable gear I could carry-it may be hideous to look at, but the Khajits pay quite well for the elven gear.
Luckily, the Khajits had their camp set up outside of Solitude, and were able to purchase all of the gear I was carrying. There was even a member there who offered to train me how to pick some elementary locks, teaching me about tumblers, pick placement and the importance of listening and breathing! It took a little longer than I would have like, but by not going into Solitude to sell my goods I still had time to make it back to Dragon Bridge before nightfall, allowing me to stay at the inn here rather than spend another night in that imperial-infested city. I will head back to Northwatch Keep in the morning to collect a few more things, and then I’m off to Whiterun to meet with Fralia. Perhaps I will break my morning fast at the ancient bridge to draw the waterfalls next to town, it is a breathtaking view!
TamrielsSavior
The Dark Nord of Helgen
What does everyone think, was that entry too long? I have been finding myself getting wordier and wordier as this goes on, so please let me know if it is too much!
