21st Of Last Seed, 4E 201
It's Appreciation Day. A holy day for contemplation dedicated to Mara.
Secrets don't stay secret long in small towns. This is especially true of Riverwood. I had been staying with Ralof and his sister Gerdur since the incident in Helgen and, when I woke up this morning, Ralof and I talked about the dragon and the Stormcloak rebellion and he urged me to head to Whiterun to speak with the Jarl. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I was trying to put the incident behind me. I was going to head towards the mine to see if I could pull any more iron from it and, just before I left the hose, Hod, Gerdur's husband, approached me. He wanted to know what it was like to see a dragon up close. I didn't want to talk about it.
On my way out of town, I bumped into a Wood Elf named Faendal who talked to me about Camilla. Apparently, Hod and I weren't the only ones who were struck by her beauty. Faendal told me that Camilla was being wooed by Sven the bard. Yet another indication that I should have been a bard. Anyway, Faendal had a plan to break them up. He had written a letter in Sven's handwriting that was sure to anger Camilla. Assuming she wouldn't bother to investigate any further, that is. Faendal asked me to give her the letter. I found her at a table at the Sleeping Giant Inn. I approached her and she smiled at me. That smile melted my heart. For a moment, I considered telling her the truth, that Faendal was trying to frame Sven. But.....I couldn't. Part of me wanted Camilla for myself knowing that, despite anything Sven would do, she'd never give her heart to Faendal. A Nord and a Wood Elf? I don't see it ever happening. So, I have her the letter and Camilla assured me that she'd never speak to Sven again.
Faendal was beyond pleased, but I felt sick at what I had done. On a day devoted to the goddess of Love, I diverted love's course. I saw it as yet another indication that I should move on. To my surprise, Faendal offered to join me. Maybe he was hoping to get out of town before Camilla figured everything out and the jig was up. Maybe he just wanted to go on an adventure. And as for Sven......I wonder if he knows any old songs about dragons.
Showing posts with label Riverwood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Riverwood. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Monday, March 18, 2013
The Golden Claw
20th Of Last Seed, 4E 201
I visited The Riverwood Trader again today, and, as usual, I heard Lucan Valerius arguing with his sister, Camilla over something. I normally don't pay attention when they argue, because it's really none of my business. It's clear to me, though, that if I want to make enough money to finance my own blacksmithing shop, I'm going to have to do it through adventuring. Adventuring basically involves going to places you wouldn't normally go and doing things you wouldn't normally do. The hazards are high, the hours are terrible, the work is unreliable, but they pay is great and the fringe benefits can't be beat. Plus, armor and weapons become a tax write-off.
I asked Lucan if I could help somehow, and he sent me off to Bleak Falls Barrow to retrieve some golden dragon claw artifact that had been stolen by some thief. Sounds easy enough. Go to Bleak Falls Barrow, find the thief, get the claw, collect the reward. Sounds easier than dealing with a mine full of bandits, anyway. I put on my Imperial armor just in case that thief got in a lucky shot before I turned his face into bone meal.
Camilla insisted on showing me the way and, as we walked to the edge of Riverwood, I was struck by her beauty and inner strength. I hadn't noticed it while she was arguing with her brother, but, as she walked me through town, it was unmistakable. As if I didn't have incentive enough already to get that gold dragon claw back.
Bleak Falls Barrow is....well....bleak. I could see why a thief would choose to hide out in there. As I climbed up to the barrow, I could feel the air growing steadily colder. My Imperial armor was no match for the stinging cold as the wind whipped around me, chilling me to the bone. Bleak Falls Barrow came into sight and as I began the slow climb up the stairs to the entrance, I encountered a group of bandits. Again with the bandits! I should have known that the thief would be part of a larger group. The had caught me by surprise, so, as the first bandit charged down the stone steps, I was still drawing my sword. The sweat of battle that flowed from beneath my skin nearly froze the instant it contacted the cold air. The bandits must have been feeling the cold as much as I had, for the first one rushed at me clumsily. I swiped my sword across his chest and drove it deep into his belly. I pivoted around in time to block a mace blow from a second bandit. I made short work of her by slicing her open with a devastating backhand cut. I felt an arrow sail by my head and looked towards the bandit archer as he loosed another one. I charged at him with my shield and slashed at him as my blood began to boil over from the rage of having nearly taken an arrow to the knee. Two shield bashes and a sword slash later, the bandit fell to his knees with a pitiful gurgle.
After looting the bodies, I quietly slipped inside the barrow, desperately hoping that the battle hadn't attracted any attention. The sound of the shrieking wind ensured that not a single battle cry had been heard. I found two bandits by a campfire. The smell of goat leg roasting on the fire along with rotting skeever made me miss my mother's cooking. I crept closer to the fire, thankful that its warmth was quickly soothing my frost-ravaged skin. One of the bandits was sleeping while the other one was stirring the cooking pot. I drew back my bow and loosed an arrow, catching the bandit in the back of the throat. She turned around in time to see me loose the arrow that finished her. I then crept up to the sleeping bandit and ran him through.
I crept further down into the ruins, coming to another set of stairs. I spied another bandit at the bottom of them. I drew my bow again and took aim. The bandit was walking towards a lever in the center of the chamber. He was trying to operate the gate at the far end. He pulled the lever and was attacked by dozens of tiny steel barbs shooting out from the walls. Moments later, the bandit dropped to his knees and died. Posion! This stint in adventuring was looking a lot less attractive. Maybe I should have become a bard instead. It's much safer to sing about adventuring than it is to actually go adventuring.
It was obvious that the darts would only be triggered by the lever, so, perhaps I could get through the gate without using it. Maybe the lever was just for "show". The gate was bolted into the floor, so there was no way I could simply lift it. As I looked around the chamber, I noticed three pillars with carvings on them set into one of the walls. I got a closer look at them and realized that I could rotate them. Each side had one of three different animals carved into it. This had to mean something. I look around for some sort of sign and noticed three other pillars with similar carvings above the gate. The middle one, however, had fallen off, and I saw it resting by the lever. I turned back to the three pillars, and I rotated them so that they matched the images above the gate. I grabbed the lever, prayed to The Divines and pulled. The mechanism unlocked the gate from the floor and it slid upwards revealing a tunnel that was carved into the rock of the mountain. I heard a voice calling from somewhere further into the tunnel.
"Is that you, Griswald? Help me!" I cautiously followed the voice down the tunnel.
As I turned the corner, I encountered a massive spider web stretched across an entry-way. I cleared the way with a few swipes from my sword. This allowed me to see the man who had been calling out for help. He was caught in another large web.
"Help me!" He cried, "Cut me down before that thing gets us." I'm no fool. I asked him to hand over the golden claw first. He claimed that he couldn't reach it while he was stuck to the web. Okay. We were going to have to do this the hard way. I had planned to free him halfway, get the claw and then decide how to proceed afterwards. Yet, as I began to cut him down, a shadow fell over me. I turned around to find a gigantic spider descending towards me menacingly.
I charged towards it and slashed my sword, cutting open a river of green blood. The monstrous spider shrieked in pain. It tried to attack me again. I drove in closer, slicing at its legs as it attempted to shoot me with impact webbing. I thrust my sword forward, into the beast's head, making it shriek in its death throws. A few moments later, it was still.
"You did it! You killed it!", the thief exclaimed, "Now cut me down from here!" He sounded an awful lot like Lucan. Maybe he was a brother or a cousin or something. Then again, a lot of Imperials seem to sound alike for some reason. Whatever their affiliation, this smug little thief was standing between me and my reward. I demanded the claw from him. "Yes! Yes! The claw! I know how it works! The claw, the markings, the doorway in the Hall of Stories, I know how it all fits together! Cut me down, and I'll show you. You won't believe the power the Nords have hidden here!".
Power? Something in the back of my mind told me not to trust him. Then again, maybe there was more to the golden claw than Lucan was letting on. There had to be a reason why someone would steal it and take it deep into a Nordic ruin rather than simply fencing it. The thief was clearly no match for me, so I cut him down. The moment his feet hit the ground he took off running, saying "You fool. Why should I share the claw with anyone?" and took off down the passage behind him. I charged after him. I drew my bow and went after him, shooting arrows as he led me through the twisting passages.
We came upon a passage that had corpses lining the walls. As the thief ran past one of them corpses, its eyes opened. I stopped cold for just a moment, trying to make sure that I saw exactly what I thought I was seeing. I watched as more corpses began to rise and unsheathe their weapons. Their eyes glowed with an eerie, super-natural blue haze, and they groaned soulless groans as the surrounded the thief. "Gods, no!" he shouted as he turned to run. He stepped on a pressure plate which launched a large spiked gate at him. Before he could react, he was impaled by the spikes jutting out of the gate, and was flung halfway across the chamber. His body came to rest at my feet. I knelt down and looted the claw from his corpse. As I searched his corpse, I noticed that he had a journal, and as I opened it, I noticed that those undead abominations were bearing down upon me. I closed the journal and drew my sword. Was it possible to kill something that was already dead? A quick swipe from my sword indicated that it was indeed possible. I had wounded the thing, and, if it could be hurt, then it could be killed. A smile crept across my face as I ran towards the creatures.
If death has a smell, then I would guess that it smells much like those abominations did when I cut into what was left of their desiccated flesh. Obviously hampered by their decaying forms, I was able to take all three of them out with a few bashes from my shield and a few good stabs from my sword. At this point, I could have turned around and brought the claw back to Lucan. But, I had come this far and the thief's talk of "power" had me intrigued. I decided to try and find this "Hall Of Stories" that he had been talking about. More undead attacked me as I moved through the tunnel but, as I had before, I easily took care of them. I soon exited into a large chamber. It was clear of corpses, so my worries about being attacked by yet another mob of undead warriors were put aside. At the far end of the chamber was a magnificently carved door. It had markings on it with a key stone in the center, which, upon closer inspection, was a perfect fit for the golden claw. But, what did the circles above the key stone mean? I looked at the claw more closely, noting a sequence of markings running along its palm. Three markings on the claw and three markings on the door. I soon realized that I could rotate the markings on the door around, so I arranged them to match the markings on the claw. I then inserted the and turned the mechanism. I steadied myself in preparation for being hit my poison darts. Instead, the door shook as the machinery beneath it ground to life and sunk the door into the ground, revealing a flight of stairs. I drew my bow and proceeded up the steps.
A glorious sight met me at the top of the steps: an enormous cavern with an underground stream running through it surrounding a raised burial platform. Behind the platform sat a curved wall covered in markings that appeared to be from some sort of ancient language. There was a glow about the wall that seemed to call out to me. Clearly, I could not hope to read what was written on the wall, yet, somehow, I was still compelled to approach it and try to read it. As I walked closer, one word began to glow brighter as the rest grew dark. Somehow, standing nearly against the word, I could actually read it. “FUS,” it said. And although I did not know what it meant, I had the urge to shout it out loud. Yet I couldn't. It was as if the word was now locked inside my mind.
How was I able to read the word anyway? Was it the Mer side of my Breton heritage; some aspect of my mage abilities at work? The answer would have to wait, as my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a loud crack. I turned away from the wall to see another undead creature emerging from the tomb on top of the platform. I drew my sword the creature stalked towards me. It stopped for a moment. Our eyes locked. I moved in to strike, and it shouted at me and suddenly my sword and shield were ripped from my hands and sent sliding across the floor. No matter. I had collected plenty of weapons and armor from various corpses in the barrow. I drew a mace and attacked. I slammed my weapon against the thing, knocking it backwards. I pressed my advantage and kept up the attack. The creature slashed me with its sword and I felt a deathly chill run through my body. I stepped back, desperate to avoid another cut from that icy blade. The thing pressed forward, forcing me into a defensive posture. I managed to parry one of its swings which left the creature open for a good hit from my mace. Undaunted, it shouted at me again and sent my mace flying from my hand. I could tell by the look on its cold, dead face that it thought it had me beat. I drew a dagger and with two quick slashes, the creature was on its knees. I stabbed it in the back of the neck and watched its eyes go dark.
Its corpse was holding a strange burial stone along with the enchanted sword. I retrieved my other weapons and left the chamber via a door at the back which led outside. As I made my way back to Riverwood, When I arrived at The Riverwood Trader, I returned the golden claw to Lucan. He simply put it back on his counter rather than locking it up in a strong box. No wonder why it got stolen. Lucan and Camilla were both very grateful and I was happy to both get the reward and sell my looted items to Lucan. Even though he low-balled me on the prices once again, I didn't care. I was too busy thinking about what had happened. I thought of that word again. What did it mean? And why couldn't I speak it? Was the stone the key to unlocking its power? Did I even want to unlock the power?
I visited The Riverwood Trader again today, and, as usual, I heard Lucan Valerius arguing with his sister, Camilla over something. I normally don't pay attention when they argue, because it's really none of my business. It's clear to me, though, that if I want to make enough money to finance my own blacksmithing shop, I'm going to have to do it through adventuring. Adventuring basically involves going to places you wouldn't normally go and doing things you wouldn't normally do. The hazards are high, the hours are terrible, the work is unreliable, but they pay is great and the fringe benefits can't be beat. Plus, armor and weapons become a tax write-off.
I asked Lucan if I could help somehow, and he sent me off to Bleak Falls Barrow to retrieve some golden dragon claw artifact that had been stolen by some thief. Sounds easy enough. Go to Bleak Falls Barrow, find the thief, get the claw, collect the reward. Sounds easier than dealing with a mine full of bandits, anyway. I put on my Imperial armor just in case that thief got in a lucky shot before I turned his face into bone meal.
Camilla insisted on showing me the way and, as we walked to the edge of Riverwood, I was struck by her beauty and inner strength. I hadn't noticed it while she was arguing with her brother, but, as she walked me through town, it was unmistakable. As if I didn't have incentive enough already to get that gold dragon claw back.
Bleak Falls Barrow is....well....bleak. I could see why a thief would choose to hide out in there. As I climbed up to the barrow, I could feel the air growing steadily colder. My Imperial armor was no match for the stinging cold as the wind whipped around me, chilling me to the bone. Bleak Falls Barrow came into sight and as I began the slow climb up the stairs to the entrance, I encountered a group of bandits. Again with the bandits! I should have known that the thief would be part of a larger group. The had caught me by surprise, so, as the first bandit charged down the stone steps, I was still drawing my sword. The sweat of battle that flowed from beneath my skin nearly froze the instant it contacted the cold air. The bandits must have been feeling the cold as much as I had, for the first one rushed at me clumsily. I swiped my sword across his chest and drove it deep into his belly. I pivoted around in time to block a mace blow from a second bandit. I made short work of her by slicing her open with a devastating backhand cut. I felt an arrow sail by my head and looked towards the bandit archer as he loosed another one. I charged at him with my shield and slashed at him as my blood began to boil over from the rage of having nearly taken an arrow to the knee. Two shield bashes and a sword slash later, the bandit fell to his knees with a pitiful gurgle.
After looting the bodies, I quietly slipped inside the barrow, desperately hoping that the battle hadn't attracted any attention. The sound of the shrieking wind ensured that not a single battle cry had been heard. I found two bandits by a campfire. The smell of goat leg roasting on the fire along with rotting skeever made me miss my mother's cooking. I crept closer to the fire, thankful that its warmth was quickly soothing my frost-ravaged skin. One of the bandits was sleeping while the other one was stirring the cooking pot. I drew back my bow and loosed an arrow, catching the bandit in the back of the throat. She turned around in time to see me loose the arrow that finished her. I then crept up to the sleeping bandit and ran him through.
I crept further down into the ruins, coming to another set of stairs. I spied another bandit at the bottom of them. I drew my bow again and took aim. The bandit was walking towards a lever in the center of the chamber. He was trying to operate the gate at the far end. He pulled the lever and was attacked by dozens of tiny steel barbs shooting out from the walls. Moments later, the bandit dropped to his knees and died. Posion! This stint in adventuring was looking a lot less attractive. Maybe I should have become a bard instead. It's much safer to sing about adventuring than it is to actually go adventuring.
It was obvious that the darts would only be triggered by the lever, so, perhaps I could get through the gate without using it. Maybe the lever was just for "show". The gate was bolted into the floor, so there was no way I could simply lift it. As I looked around the chamber, I noticed three pillars with carvings on them set into one of the walls. I got a closer look at them and realized that I could rotate them. Each side had one of three different animals carved into it. This had to mean something. I look around for some sort of sign and noticed three other pillars with similar carvings above the gate. The middle one, however, had fallen off, and I saw it resting by the lever. I turned back to the three pillars, and I rotated them so that they matched the images above the gate. I grabbed the lever, prayed to The Divines and pulled. The mechanism unlocked the gate from the floor and it slid upwards revealing a tunnel that was carved into the rock of the mountain. I heard a voice calling from somewhere further into the tunnel.
"Is that you, Griswald? Help me!" I cautiously followed the voice down the tunnel.
As I turned the corner, I encountered a massive spider web stretched across an entry-way. I cleared the way with a few swipes from my sword. This allowed me to see the man who had been calling out for help. He was caught in another large web.
"Help me!" He cried, "Cut me down before that thing gets us." I'm no fool. I asked him to hand over the golden claw first. He claimed that he couldn't reach it while he was stuck to the web. Okay. We were going to have to do this the hard way. I had planned to free him halfway, get the claw and then decide how to proceed afterwards. Yet, as I began to cut him down, a shadow fell over me. I turned around to find a gigantic spider descending towards me menacingly.
I charged towards it and slashed my sword, cutting open a river of green blood. The monstrous spider shrieked in pain. It tried to attack me again. I drove in closer, slicing at its legs as it attempted to shoot me with impact webbing. I thrust my sword forward, into the beast's head, making it shriek in its death throws. A few moments later, it was still.
"You did it! You killed it!", the thief exclaimed, "Now cut me down from here!" He sounded an awful lot like Lucan. Maybe he was a brother or a cousin or something. Then again, a lot of Imperials seem to sound alike for some reason. Whatever their affiliation, this smug little thief was standing between me and my reward. I demanded the claw from him. "Yes! Yes! The claw! I know how it works! The claw, the markings, the doorway in the Hall of Stories, I know how it all fits together! Cut me down, and I'll show you. You won't believe the power the Nords have hidden here!".
Power? Something in the back of my mind told me not to trust him. Then again, maybe there was more to the golden claw than Lucan was letting on. There had to be a reason why someone would steal it and take it deep into a Nordic ruin rather than simply fencing it. The thief was clearly no match for me, so I cut him down. The moment his feet hit the ground he took off running, saying "You fool. Why should I share the claw with anyone?" and took off down the passage behind him. I charged after him. I drew my bow and went after him, shooting arrows as he led me through the twisting passages.
We came upon a passage that had corpses lining the walls. As the thief ran past one of them corpses, its eyes opened. I stopped cold for just a moment, trying to make sure that I saw exactly what I thought I was seeing. I watched as more corpses began to rise and unsheathe their weapons. Their eyes glowed with an eerie, super-natural blue haze, and they groaned soulless groans as the surrounded the thief. "Gods, no!" he shouted as he turned to run. He stepped on a pressure plate which launched a large spiked gate at him. Before he could react, he was impaled by the spikes jutting out of the gate, and was flung halfway across the chamber. His body came to rest at my feet. I knelt down and looted the claw from his corpse. As I searched his corpse, I noticed that he had a journal, and as I opened it, I noticed that those undead abominations were bearing down upon me. I closed the journal and drew my sword. Was it possible to kill something that was already dead? A quick swipe from my sword indicated that it was indeed possible. I had wounded the thing, and, if it could be hurt, then it could be killed. A smile crept across my face as I ran towards the creatures.
If death has a smell, then I would guess that it smells much like those abominations did when I cut into what was left of their desiccated flesh. Obviously hampered by their decaying forms, I was able to take all three of them out with a few bashes from my shield and a few good stabs from my sword. At this point, I could have turned around and brought the claw back to Lucan. But, I had come this far and the thief's talk of "power" had me intrigued. I decided to try and find this "Hall Of Stories" that he had been talking about. More undead attacked me as I moved through the tunnel but, as I had before, I easily took care of them. I soon exited into a large chamber. It was clear of corpses, so my worries about being attacked by yet another mob of undead warriors were put aside. At the far end of the chamber was a magnificently carved door. It had markings on it with a key stone in the center, which, upon closer inspection, was a perfect fit for the golden claw. But, what did the circles above the key stone mean? I looked at the claw more closely, noting a sequence of markings running along its palm. Three markings on the claw and three markings on the door. I soon realized that I could rotate the markings on the door around, so I arranged them to match the markings on the claw. I then inserted the and turned the mechanism. I steadied myself in preparation for being hit my poison darts. Instead, the door shook as the machinery beneath it ground to life and sunk the door into the ground, revealing a flight of stairs. I drew my bow and proceeded up the steps.
A glorious sight met me at the top of the steps: an enormous cavern with an underground stream running through it surrounding a raised burial platform. Behind the platform sat a curved wall covered in markings that appeared to be from some sort of ancient language. There was a glow about the wall that seemed to call out to me. Clearly, I could not hope to read what was written on the wall, yet, somehow, I was still compelled to approach it and try to read it. As I walked closer, one word began to glow brighter as the rest grew dark. Somehow, standing nearly against the word, I could actually read it. “FUS,” it said. And although I did not know what it meant, I had the urge to shout it out loud. Yet I couldn't. It was as if the word was now locked inside my mind.
How was I able to read the word anyway? Was it the Mer side of my Breton heritage; some aspect of my mage abilities at work? The answer would have to wait, as my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a loud crack. I turned away from the wall to see another undead creature emerging from the tomb on top of the platform. I drew my sword the creature stalked towards me. It stopped for a moment. Our eyes locked. I moved in to strike, and it shouted at me and suddenly my sword and shield were ripped from my hands and sent sliding across the floor. No matter. I had collected plenty of weapons and armor from various corpses in the barrow. I drew a mace and attacked. I slammed my weapon against the thing, knocking it backwards. I pressed my advantage and kept up the attack. The creature slashed me with its sword and I felt a deathly chill run through my body. I stepped back, desperate to avoid another cut from that icy blade. The thing pressed forward, forcing me into a defensive posture. I managed to parry one of its swings which left the creature open for a good hit from my mace. Undaunted, it shouted at me again and sent my mace flying from my hand. I could tell by the look on its cold, dead face that it thought it had me beat. I drew a dagger and with two quick slashes, the creature was on its knees. I stabbed it in the back of the neck and watched its eyes go dark.
Its corpse was holding a strange burial stone along with the enchanted sword. I retrieved my other weapons and left the chamber via a door at the back which led outside. As I made my way back to Riverwood, When I arrived at The Riverwood Trader, I returned the golden claw to Lucan. He simply put it back on his counter rather than locking it up in a strong box. No wonder why it got stolen. Lucan and Camilla were both very grateful and I was happy to both get the reward and sell my looted items to Lucan. Even though he low-balled me on the prices once again, I didn't care. I was too busy thinking about what had happened. I thought of that word again. What did it mean? And why couldn't I speak it? Was the stone the key to unlocking its power? Did I even want to unlock the power?
Saturday, March 16, 2013
A Career Opportunity
18th Of Last Seed, 4E 201
Alvor, the blacksmith of Riverwood, had been training me in smithing. He even said that he should hire me as his assistant, which I took to mean that, if I proved myself, he'd give me a job helping him. I figured that I could impress him by mining some ore, making some ingots and crafting some armor and weapons. First, I would need to mine some ore, though. I knew there was a mine near Riverwood, so I headed to Embershard Mine, which I had passed on my way to Riverwood from Helgen.
I approached the mine and encountered a Nord just outside of it. I was going to ask him if I could make some sort of arrangement to mine some ore from the mine. Before I could even ask, he told me to turn around. I know that some Nords in Skyrim can be a little gruff with other races, but, all I wanted to do was mine some ore. Surely we could come to an agreement. I approached slowly, without any weapons drawn, but he attacked me without provocation. Divines, I swear to you that I went in with the purest of intentions. My life was in danger, so I had to kill him. His face collapsed against my mace as I struck the final blow, sending him to face Shor's justice.
I went in to search his body, hoping that I might be able to identify him and send word to his kin. That's when I discovered that he was a bandit. No doubt, he was guarding Embershard Mine for his bandit friends inside. I could have just walked away, but I started to worry that the bandit had friends who would come to Riverwood asking questions. As a Breton, I have no doubt that some of the Nords there would not hesitate to give me up. No, the only solution was to go in there and kill them before they could kill me. There weren't many of them, and they were dumb enough to attack in pairs rather than all at once. I sent them all to their deaths.
I guess the Whiterun Hold guards hadn't bothered to investigate Embershard Mine due to being occupied with the Stormcloak Rebellion. As distressing as that is, it ended up working out for me because it resulted in a half-dozen dead bandits who wouldn't be needing their gear anymore. After looting all of the bandit corpses, I set about mining as much iron ore as I could carry. When I got back to Riverwood, though, I discovered that Alvor didn't have a smelter. How could I make iron ingots without a smelter? And how could I smith without material? Alvor was willing to sell me iron ingots, though. What a scam. I had no choice, so I took the gear I had looted to Lucan Valerius, owner of The Riverwood Trader so that I could get some money to buy some iron ingots from Alvor. It turns out that I made more money from the gold I had looted from the bandits than I did from selling the gear to Lucan.
I ran out of The Riverwood Trader to find Alvor speaking with his young daughter, Dorthe. She was talking Alvor about smithing. I was just about to buy some ingots from Alvor when Dorthe interrupted me.
"My father is Alvor, the blacksmith. I'm his assistant. I mean, apprentice", she said.
That little snot. She KNEW that I was hoping to get hired on as Alvor's assistant and she was mocking me. I'd have slipped her a dose of weak fear poison if Alvor hadn't been right there.
Maybe this is a sign from The Divines that I need to strike out on my own, build my own smith, create my own gear and sell it to the citizens of Skyrim.
Alvor, the blacksmith of Riverwood, had been training me in smithing. He even said that he should hire me as his assistant, which I took to mean that, if I proved myself, he'd give me a job helping him. I figured that I could impress him by mining some ore, making some ingots and crafting some armor and weapons. First, I would need to mine some ore, though. I knew there was a mine near Riverwood, so I headed to Embershard Mine, which I had passed on my way to Riverwood from Helgen.
I approached the mine and encountered a Nord just outside of it. I was going to ask him if I could make some sort of arrangement to mine some ore from the mine. Before I could even ask, he told me to turn around. I know that some Nords in Skyrim can be a little gruff with other races, but, all I wanted to do was mine some ore. Surely we could come to an agreement. I approached slowly, without any weapons drawn, but he attacked me without provocation. Divines, I swear to you that I went in with the purest of intentions. My life was in danger, so I had to kill him. His face collapsed against my mace as I struck the final blow, sending him to face Shor's justice.
I went in to search his body, hoping that I might be able to identify him and send word to his kin. That's when I discovered that he was a bandit. No doubt, he was guarding Embershard Mine for his bandit friends inside. I could have just walked away, but I started to worry that the bandit had friends who would come to Riverwood asking questions. As a Breton, I have no doubt that some of the Nords there would not hesitate to give me up. No, the only solution was to go in there and kill them before they could kill me. There weren't many of them, and they were dumb enough to attack in pairs rather than all at once. I sent them all to their deaths.
I guess the Whiterun Hold guards hadn't bothered to investigate Embershard Mine due to being occupied with the Stormcloak Rebellion. As distressing as that is, it ended up working out for me because it resulted in a half-dozen dead bandits who wouldn't be needing their gear anymore. After looting all of the bandit corpses, I set about mining as much iron ore as I could carry. When I got back to Riverwood, though, I discovered that Alvor didn't have a smelter. How could I make iron ingots without a smelter? And how could I smith without material? Alvor was willing to sell me iron ingots, though. What a scam. I had no choice, so I took the gear I had looted to Lucan Valerius, owner of The Riverwood Trader so that I could get some money to buy some iron ingots from Alvor. It turns out that I made more money from the gold I had looted from the bandits than I did from selling the gear to Lucan.
I ran out of The Riverwood Trader to find Alvor speaking with his young daughter, Dorthe. She was talking Alvor about smithing. I was just about to buy some ingots from Alvor when Dorthe interrupted me.
"My father is Alvor, the blacksmith. I'm his assistant. I mean, apprentice", she said.
That little snot. She KNEW that I was hoping to get hired on as Alvor's assistant and she was mocking me. I'd have slipped her a dose of weak fear poison if Alvor hadn't been right there.
Maybe this is a sign from The Divines that I need to strike out on my own, build my own smith, create my own gear and sell it to the citizens of Skyrim.
Friday, March 15, 2013
Guillaume Unbound
17th Of Last Seed, 4E 201
I crossed the border from High Rock into Skyrim in the hopes of finding some work and maybe a little bit of adventure. Being a merchant back home wasn't working out, so I thought perhaps a change of scenery would help. And what better place to find my fortune than Skyrim? My parents often told me tales of my ancestors who lived among the Nords of Skyrim and fought with them to liberate Markath. And I heard of how my people were driven from their homes in The Reach by Ulfric Stormcloak.
Not long after I crossed the border, I happened upon a skirmish between two a group of armed Nords and some Imperial soldiers. Before I could decide where to run, I was knocked out. I awoke in a carriage among some of those very same Nord soldiers and Ulfric Stormcloak himself. We were being brought to Helgen. We were going to meet the executioner's blade. As a Nord named Ralof droned on to me and, to be honest, I can't remember what he said because of the horse thief in our carriage that had abandoned all dignity and started freaking out.
The Imperials couldn't find me on their list, and, as much as I would have liked to have told them that they had made a mistake in associating me with the Stormcloak rebels, I knew that it wouldn't do me any good. And escape was not an option, as evidenced by how quickly they dispatched the horse thief when he tried to run. No, I was going to die due to an administrative mistake and there was nothing I could do about it. So much for fortune and adventure. I just hoped that my remains would make it back to Mom and Dad so that they wouldn't have to wonder what happened to me.
It was when my head was on the block that The Divines stepped in and changed my fate. Their intervention came in the form of a dragon, of all things! If I hadn't seen it myself, I would not have believed it, but as my head was on the block, a dragon swooped down and attacked Helgen. His powerful shout tossed everyone there around like papers in the wind, giving the prisoners a chance to escape. I followed Ralof into a tower and then into Helgen Keep. Casualties from the dragon attack were heavy for both the Imperials and the Stormcloaks. This afforded me the opportunity to pick up a good amount of gear . After all, they wouldn't be needing it any longer. I donned some Imperial Armor and took an iron sword into my hands. Despite my Breton heritage, I had always been more comfortable fighting with a blade than I had been casting flames.
Ralof and I fought our way through a number of Imperial soldiers as we ran through Helgen Keep. I more than paid them back for trying to execute me. With the help of Ralof, we escaped Helgen and I made my way to Riverwood. As I arrived, an old woman was shouting about having seen a dragon and was immediately called crazy for doing so. Ralof had asked me to talk to his sister, Gerdur, in Riverwood. She was very helpful, but she wanted me to go to Whiterun to tell the Jarl about the dragon. No way. I don't want to risk getting called crazy and spending the rest of my life locked up in a tower because of it.
Instead, I sold the gear I had looted to the local trader, bought some respectable clothing and even learned a little bit about crafting weapons and armor from the local smithy. I think I might just have a good thing going here in Riverwood, so I think I'm going to stick around for a while, maybe mine some ore and work on my smithing while I decide what my next move will be.
I crossed the border from High Rock into Skyrim in the hopes of finding some work and maybe a little bit of adventure. Being a merchant back home wasn't working out, so I thought perhaps a change of scenery would help. And what better place to find my fortune than Skyrim? My parents often told me tales of my ancestors who lived among the Nords of Skyrim and fought with them to liberate Markath. And I heard of how my people were driven from their homes in The Reach by Ulfric Stormcloak.
Not long after I crossed the border, I happened upon a skirmish between two a group of armed Nords and some Imperial soldiers. Before I could decide where to run, I was knocked out. I awoke in a carriage among some of those very same Nord soldiers and Ulfric Stormcloak himself. We were being brought to Helgen. We were going to meet the executioner's blade. As a Nord named Ralof droned on to me and, to be honest, I can't remember what he said because of the horse thief in our carriage that had abandoned all dignity and started freaking out.
The Imperials couldn't find me on their list, and, as much as I would have liked to have told them that they had made a mistake in associating me with the Stormcloak rebels, I knew that it wouldn't do me any good. And escape was not an option, as evidenced by how quickly they dispatched the horse thief when he tried to run. No, I was going to die due to an administrative mistake and there was nothing I could do about it. So much for fortune and adventure. I just hoped that my remains would make it back to Mom and Dad so that they wouldn't have to wonder what happened to me.
It was when my head was on the block that The Divines stepped in and changed my fate. Their intervention came in the form of a dragon, of all things! If I hadn't seen it myself, I would not have believed it, but as my head was on the block, a dragon swooped down and attacked Helgen. His powerful shout tossed everyone there around like papers in the wind, giving the prisoners a chance to escape. I followed Ralof into a tower and then into Helgen Keep. Casualties from the dragon attack were heavy for both the Imperials and the Stormcloaks. This afforded me the opportunity to pick up a good amount of gear . After all, they wouldn't be needing it any longer. I donned some Imperial Armor and took an iron sword into my hands. Despite my Breton heritage, I had always been more comfortable fighting with a blade than I had been casting flames.
Ralof and I fought our way through a number of Imperial soldiers as we ran through Helgen Keep. I more than paid them back for trying to execute me. With the help of Ralof, we escaped Helgen and I made my way to Riverwood. As I arrived, an old woman was shouting about having seen a dragon and was immediately called crazy for doing so. Ralof had asked me to talk to his sister, Gerdur, in Riverwood. She was very helpful, but she wanted me to go to Whiterun to tell the Jarl about the dragon. No way. I don't want to risk getting called crazy and spending the rest of my life locked up in a tower because of it.
Instead, I sold the gear I had looted to the local trader, bought some respectable clothing and even learned a little bit about crafting weapons and armor from the local smithy. I think I might just have a good thing going here in Riverwood, so I think I'm going to stick around for a while, maybe mine some ore and work on my smithing while I decide what my next move will be.
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| Here I Am In Riverwood |
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