Chapter 15: A New Objective — Ver. 2.0
After talking with Lydia, I head down to the market, where I see a Redguard man in beige and brown fine padded clothing berating shopkeepers. Any Skyrim player would recognize this man anytime. It's Nazeem. An NPC who's unequivocally hated by all players, not only because of his attitude. Nazeem's the kind of guy to start a fight, then blame the other person despite having dozens of witnesses. Nazeem's very well known for his behavior. If he ever had to go to court for a crime, he would lose because even judge doesn't like him. Doesn't help much when he's got these goofy-ass looks, but there's not really all that much he can do about that. There's only good thing about him, and that's his haircut. Even then, that might be stretching it.
I stop for a second, both mentally and physically.
He walks up to me, and says his infamous line, in a highborn jackass sounding accent, before walking away towards Dragonsreach.
"Do you get to the Cloud District often? Oh, what am I saying, of course you don't."
Hearing that line in real life sparked my rage at his character and made me want to beat his ass. I suppressed the violent urge, and went on my way. My thoughts, however, did not go away as easily as he did.
Yeah, so what, Nazeem? I'm still the Dragonborn. One day, I'll be the Archmage at the College of Winterhold, too. I'll be the Guildmaster of the Thieve's Guild and the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood. I'll be the reason the Dawnguard becomes as powerful as it will in the future. I'll be the key to reviving the Blades, the dragon-killing order of warriors. I'll be the Harbinger of the Companions, the most powerful warrior faction in all of Skyrim. I'll own 15 of the 18 Daedric artifacts. I'll have a house in every Hold, and be the Thane of them all. I'll own the armor of the Crusader, Pelinal Whitestrake. I'll establish the Explorer's Guild.¹ This is real life. I could even become the Emperor.
What've you got, Nazeem? A farm? The ear of the Jarl? You don't even have that. Nobody in Dragonsreach talks about you, let alone even cares about you. No, I can't say that. People care about you, but they hate you. Lemme rephrase, everyone hates you. People both inside and outside of this dimension hate you. That's how shit of a person you are. Even your wife doesn't like you. How'd you even get her to begin with? That's crazy. Must've been a political marriage or some shit.
You're not around the Jarl at his every step. Compared to me, I became a Thane in four and half days, while you've spent 30 years building up a farm. Sure, your farm might be successful, but how long did it take for that to happen? You have no right to look down on me. Even now, as no-name warrior with nothing but a title to my name, I can eliminate your entire lifestyle, bring you down to the level of a beggar, and despite that, you still would have that attitude. You are not a good person. You are not remotely a good person. The only thing that might redeem you even a little bit is the fact that you hire people on your farm. But even then, that's not redeeming you in my book.
I ignore what Nazeem said and grit my teeth. I keep my mouth shut, and move on. I walk to Belethor's and wait outside for a minute while I think of what I need. I need saddlebags for my horse... I'll need two large waterskins, more food. Some horse feed. When I bought Myrmidon, did the horse come with horseshoes already attached to his hooves? I don't remember. Oh, and I should probably learn how to care for my horse, too...
I'll have to go down to the stables for most of those things, as they're are specialty goods and services, and I don't want to have to carry them through the streets of Whiterun. I should probably just go down to the stables at this point.
So I head down there and upon finding the Stablemaster, a Nord named Skulvar Sable-Hilt, I ask him if he has any large waterskins and saddlebags I can carry on the horse. He has happens to have recently acquired some, so I buy a couple from him at 45 gold pieces per. A total of 180 gold.
"How much would it cost if I were to ask you to train me to take care of my horse?" I ask him.
"If you're willing to ask, I know you'll take good care of Myrmidon. I won't deny knowledge to those who ask. For you, it's free. Rather have a warhorse in the hands of someone who knows how to use 'em, anyways."
I thank him, and he demonstrates the proper care of a horse. He shows me how to clean it's fur, brush out it's mane, clean and cut his hooves when I have to. He gives me a set of special files and cutting tools to specifically do it, too. He even gives me a little training in riding Myrmidon. He says that while the horse is in the stables, feeding it costs 7 gold a day, (I need to pay for today and tomorrow), therefore the feed for an eight-day trip around and up the mountain would cost somewhere around 60 gold. That's with extra feed, though, in case there are... complications while traveling, those being bandits and the like.
I ask him if he could prepare a horse, because I might have to buy another in a couple days. He says he will, and that it would be at a lower price, next time. Warhorses like the ones he trains are incredible in the right hands, and he felt that the more that were in the right hands, the better.
I don't know if my hands are the best to keep them in, but the more horses my companions had, the better. I imagine I could get up to a small cavalry's worth of warhorses and companions.
After finishing my business with Skulvar, I went back up to where Belethor's shop was at, and went inside. Nobody was inside, besides Belethor himself.
"Oh! You're back." Belethor called out, when he saw me.
"Yes. I've been called to High Hrothgar by the Greybeards. Is there anything you would recommend for a mountain trip?" I ask him.
Belethor takes a moment to think.
"Well, I suppose I've got a mountain-trekking catalogue somewhere in here..." He slowly starts.
"Sigurd!" He calls out. "Sigu- Oh, you're here."
Sigurd appears from the doorway he did the first time I was here, and asks, "Yea, what'd you need?"
"Remember where I put that high altitude mountain-trekking catalogue? Our customer here is preparing for a journey up the Throat of the World." Belethor nods over to me.
"Well, I don't remember, but I'm sure you left in with your other catalogues. I'll go and grab it."
"Thanks." Belethor's relationship with Sigurd seems to lean more towards friendship rather than employer/employee, unlike the game. Sigurd leaves and we stand around awkwardly.
After a few seconds of silence, Belethor speaks up.
"So um... High Hrothgar, huh? Summoned by the Greybeards... Hey, doesn't that make you the Dragonborn? I remember hearing some guards talking about a new Dragonborn being in town. If that book was right, you should be."
"'That book'?" I question, inquisitively.
"Oh! The Book of the Dragonborn," he answers. "I've got a copy around here somewhere."
"The Book of the Dragonborn?" I ask. What's this got to do with anything?
Belethor looks around, before rushing out for a second, and coming back in holding a book. It was a black book, with the sigil of the Empire on it, a dragon.
I flip through the pages, reading about the history of the term 'Dragonborn' and what it applied to, but on the last page there's a prophecy. I read out loud what I see.
"I leave you with what is known as 'The Prophecy of the Dragonborn'. It's often said to originate in an Elder Scroll, although it is sometimes also attributed to the ancient Akaviri. Many have attempted to decipher it, and many have also believed that its omens had been fulfilled and that the advent of the 'Last Dragonborn' was at hand. I make no claims as an interpreter of prophecy, but it does suggest that the true significance of Akatosh's gift to mortalkind has yet to be fully understood.
'When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world
When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped
When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles
When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls
When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding
The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.'"
As I finish reading the prophecy, Belethor's face turns pale. He stutters out, "W-when the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped..."
"What are you talking about?" I ask.
"I just received some new books a few days ago. I read through a few to ensure that they were actually worth the money. The thing is, they were history books that detailed the last several hundred years or so, and it turns out I found some relating information. The 'Brass Tower' refers to Numidium, a Dwemer colossus that was used by the First Emperor, Tiber Septim, to subjugate Elsweyr in the Second Era."
He takes a deep breath, then continues. "'When Time is reshaped', references the Warp of the West in the Third Era. The 'Dragonborn Ruler' refers to the High King, obviously, and given the war with the Aldmeri Dominion, I'd say his throne has been lost. The White Tower could only be the White-Gold Tower, the capitol of Cyrodiil, in the Imperial City. Again, in consideration of the war, t-the White Tower would surely seem to have fallen." His face shook, but he tried to maintain a confident figure.
His very human and real responses catch me off guard. From seeing a character in a game become definitively *alive* makes me wonder at the power of the Benefactor. Were they the creator of this world as well, given their power? Or were they something beyond even that?
Belethor continues, interrupting my stream of thoughts. "So... That's three lines of the prophecy, since that last one is obvious, with Alduin being the... the, uh, World-Eater. Thrice-blessed, though? The only thing that failed in recent years that relate to the number three, I suppose would be... the Tribunal of the Third Era, and the Red Tower... Trembling? As in, an earthquake? Oh! The earthquakes, before the eruption! That references the Red Year, when the Red Mountain erupted!"
"Wait," I ask. "How do you know all this? What kind of history books did you buy?"
Belethor looks confused for a second before answering. "Well... I'm a merchant, I need to know both the news of the present and the events of the past. Only then can I sell things where they need to be sold, and make the highest profit doing so. People might tell you that I'm greedy. They're right."
He looks back towards the book, and his face turns to a look of worry.
"Well... by the looks of this prophecy, it seems that you are the Last Dragonborn, Drake." He laughs softly out of fear and anxiety, and continues. "I guess that means Alduin has risen again. Have fun learning with the Greybeards. It looks like you'll have to, because the world is at stake."
Sigurd walks back in. "Okay, I couldn't find the original catalogue, but I was able to find one of the copies for some of the medium altitude mountain-trekking ones. That should be fine, I think, right?"
I nod. Sigurd sighs with relief on his face, and says,"That's great because I already grabbed the stuff." He walks back to the door, and pulls a much larger and heavier bedroll out, along with a set of ten metal spikes, a hammer, a harness, and a long coil of rope. He sets them on the counter, goes back, and returns carrying a bundle of hiking sticks, and two axe-like tools that had a narrow head. He leaves again, and comes back carrying a huge cloak made of snow bear fur.
He sets them down, and names them off. His arm gestures to each item as he speaks.
"Mountain bedroll, pitons, climbing harness, rope (200 feet), hiking staves, ice picks, and a snow bear greatcloak."
He pulls out a sheet of parchment. He writes down a few things and hands it over to Belethor.
Belethor takes it with slightly shaking hands, and checks the list, before saying, "For all this, it'll be 260 septims."
I pull out the necessary gold and pass it to Belethor. He gained some composure and took it from me. His blue eyes shine brightly against the firelight of the hearth, looking past me, and he hands the goods over to me. I strap them on the outside of my pack before heading to the door.
Belethor's eyes refocus and look at me.
"Good luck, and please come again." He says. I smile despondently and thank him before heading out.
My new objective is to obtain lodging. The inn here, The Bannered Mare, is the answer to that problem of mine. I make my way over to it.
On my way there, a little Nord girl around the age of 10 comes up to me. She has yellow hair encrusted with dirt, eyes shadowed by exhaustion, and a slightly sunken face. She's clearly starting to starve, and is probably sleeping outside.
"Could you spare a coin?" She asks, holding her hands out to me. I study her face. Her cheeks are red, indicating her embarrassment at her ruined and pathetic state.
"I can do more than that," I say before handing her a small sack of 50 Septims. I remember seeing this girl in the game before, but I don't actually remember her character. I never adopted any of the orphaned children when I played. It seemed like I might get stuck with some kind of gold-drain if I did, besides the fact that I didn't feel like I could handle the responsibility of a child (even in a game). I know how much my parents spent on me as a kid from my old life, and didn't want to suffer the same fate, regardless of whether it was in a game or not. That probably makes me seem kind of heartless, but I always gave beggars and homeless people some money. Not to the druggies, though. I don't support ruining lives, even if they're your own. Nor do I support the black market. I know what they're doing, and they're a lot worse than people make it sound.
Her eyes widen at the amount and she gasped slightly. Her small hands shook.
"Oh, thank you! Divines bless your kind heart." She breathes out, after the gold had entered her hands.
"Why are you begging out here, kid?" I ask her. I didn't really talk to her character when I gave her gold, as I'd simply just back out of the conversation. But since I'm here now, literally, I may as well ask.
Her eyes start to tear up as she answers, "It... It's what Brenuin said I should do. He's the only one that's been nice to me since... since mama..." She takes a deep breath, then continues, "...Since she died. My aunt and uncle took over our farm and threw me out. Said I wasn't good for anything. I wound up here, but... I... I don't know what to do. I miss her so much..."
How sad. I feel pretty guilty I never adopted any of the children in the game now... It seems that even in games people were assholes. Or maybe it'd be their creators? In either case, this kid's in a bad situation.
Anyways, I wave to the Bannered Mare, and say:
"Come with me. I'll vouch for you at the Bannered Mare, and see if you can get some food, and a room for the night, or maybe sleep by the hearth."
"Really?" She asks me, hope in her eyes.
I suppress the urge to say 'No' and then leave. I put up a kind smile, and say, "Yeah, follow me."
I lead her over to the Bannered Mare, and we go to the woman at the counter.
The bustling inn was full of people, conversing at the counter or a table, or dancing near the hearth, or drinking solitarily in a corner. Various people were being kicked out, as we entered.
The woman at the counter is a Nord woman in her mid-forties, with lightly tanned skin, high cheekbones, and hazel eyes. This woman was the innkeep, Hulda.
She smiles at me, before asking in a strong Nordic accent, "Ah, I've seen you before. What can I get you?"
"A room for me, and one for the girl." I nod at the girl beside me, and pass 20 gold over. She wasn't where I was expecting her, however. She somehow ended up over by the bard, who was playing a lively tune on his lute, namely the song 'Ragnar the Red.' She danced in a circle next to other customers, who were all dancing in a group.
"Mm, did you adopt Lucia?" The woman asks, smiling. So the girl's name was Lucia. "She's been here every night for the last few months. Is it that she's finally found a new family?"
"No. Unfortunately, I travel too much to take a child along with me. I don't think I could care for a child very well." I respond quietly. "Besides, my journeys as of yet haven't been too much of a financial blessing, nor safe enough to even consider taking along a defenseless child, too. I don't have the strength to protect a non-combatant and myself. I do however, have enough coin for her to be fed and sleep at an inn for the night."
"... Ah... I'm sorry." The woman tries to cover her mistake. "Here's the key to your room and the girl's. Second floor, third and fourth doors on the right." She quickly hands me a key, before ducking under the counter.
I duck through the group of dancing patrons and made my way to Lucia. I tapped her shoulder, and pointed upstairs to the rooms. Once we got out of the crowd, I told her we've got rooms now.
• • •
In all of Hulda's years working at her inn, it was *very* rare that she made a mistake such as this. She quickly ducked under the counter as though she were grabbing something, and hoped the young Nord man standing in front of her ignored her mistake. It seems like he doesn't know Skyrim's unwritten rules just yet, probably being a newcomer that was born in one of the other provinces of the Empire. He was a Nord, though, so he should be able to figure the ins-and-outs of social cues in Skyrim.
She had guessed the situation badly and embarrassed herself quite a bit. It was fairly rude to assume things about strangers, especially regarding familial matters. She waits until he disappears, then stands back up and sighs.
She reminds herself that she shouldn't assume things, and sighs again, tired from the busy day, before a new patron walks through the door. She quickly jumps back to the dialogue she usually used whenever she saw a customer she didn't recognize.
"Come on in. Let me know if you need anything, or take a seat by the fire and I'll send someone over."
This relative monotony of life leads Hulda to believe that the Nine must have been conspiring against her, for her to receive such an abhorrently boring, repetitive fate. Hulda smiles at the thought of that, before getting back to work. She has a love-hate relationship with her job, and it doesn't help that those damn guards make a big ruckus when they're off the job and drunk. Except for broken tables and chairs, she loves the fact that they fought all the time. It meant that the Nord blood flowed strong in these men and women, and that among them, these were the most capable warriors in all the Holds, perhaps even all the provinces. Everyone in this Hold was capable of a fight, and times weren't looking too well, what with the war going on, so having a few extra hands to defend the place should it come it was a boon.
That Nord from earlier, however, used a strange fighting technique to defeat Uthgerd, though it was one that Hulda would very much like to see in action again. If the Hold guards could use it in their fights, it'd sure make them a lot more interesting than the base slugfests they usually were. The damage might also be lessened, as the style clearly focused on speed and control just as much as power, if not even more than the guards' wild power-focused style of fighting.
Hulda let imaginary fights play out in her head as she wipes down the counter, up until another actual fight broke between patrons. She, too, was one of the onlookers as it broke out.
She just hoped that not many chairs or tables would be broken this time around. They were getting more and more expensive.
• • •
I made my way up the stairs at the left side of the inn, and gave Lucia the key to the third room, before telling her not to lose it.
"We'll return the key in the morning, and I'll pay for your fare to go to Riften on the carriage. Pay for food with the money I gave you earlier over the ride to Riften, and make sure to ration the food out each day on your way there. When you get to Riften, go to the Orphanage. It's an ugly brown building besides the palace. You might not see it at first, so when you get there, look for the big blue palace. You're a strong and smart girl, so I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out from there. Now, the headmistress is a bad woman, but I'll go there in a couple weeks to ensure you got there safely and are alright, okay?"
Lucia nods before jumping forward and giving me a tight hug, thanking me, with tears welling up in her eyes. I wasn't expecting the hug, so I just raise my arms, before kinda patting her back. I don't know how to react. That's the first time a child has treated me nicely in the last few years.
Growing up an only child, I had wanted siblings, and had always wondered what it'd be like to have them. I thought about maybe having kids one day, so I tried babysitting before, but those children were little monsters. They insulted me and berated me, and while I did get pissed, I couldn't just beat that lil bitch attitude outta them. At the time, I really needed the 30 bucks I was watching them for. It was for the rest of my share on rent. College wasn't worth it. Wait, why can I remember that, but I can't remember how I got here...?
Lucia whimpers a little bit while hugging me, before sniffling and saying, "I- I'm just an orphan. Thank you, mister. I really do pray the Nine Divines bless you."
She disappeared into her room, and I felt a pang of regret. If the kids in the game came even a close second to what Lucia is like, then I'd probably have tried to adopt more than half of the kids in Skyrim. I don't want the child to suffer more than she has to, so killing Grelod the 'kind' will be important. It's the first thing I'll do after going to High Hrothgar.
|New Quest: Adopt The Child|
The notification catches me off guard, so I go inside my room, and sit at the small desk inside. A couple feet behind me lies the feet of the bed I'm going to sleep in in a few hours. I shut my eyes and look at what my Scribe's been writing lately.
In it details my experiences with enemies I've faced, such as Draugr, various recordings of their attacks, the things they've been saying, and types of magic spells they've used. The Scribe has thoroughly dissected my actions, and has marked down active quests, or at least marked down what I've said I'd be doing.
I look at the newest quest, |Adopt The Child|. It basically describes my interaction with her, my reaction, and how I felt after. The first requirement for completion is to visit Honorhall Orphanage, the orphanage in Riften. The second is to kill Grelod, the old crone that more or less tortures the children. The third, of course, is to adopt Lucia.
After looking through my Scribe, I pull out my Oakflesh spellbook and start reading through it. My voice echoes through the room.
"The purpose of magic like Oakflesh is to encapsulate the body of the caster in a layer of Magicka as a thin sheet of armor, focusing on the defense from physical attacks. This type of spell has a relatively long duration compared to other spells of it's level, lasting anywhere from 60-120 seconds, depending on the strength and skill of the caster. This varies most between Archmages and masters of different schools of magic.
Secondary effects of the Armor class of the Alteration school of magic include the disruption of attack spells casted onto the first party by a secondary party. Magic resistance, so to speak. The stronger the Armor class spell casted onto the first party, however, results in a higher magic resistance as well. This magic resistance only lasts as long as the Armor spell lasts, so if you cast it too soon or too late, your magic resistance might ruin an allies' spell or even allow an enemies' to pierce through your defenses.
This is a good spell to use in combat, as it does not need to be focused on for very long and has an instantaneous effect. Because of these effects, it's regarded as a beneficial spell for mages, pilgrims, spellswords, warlocks, nightblades, and witch hunters to learn.
Now that we have some basic understanding of the purpose of this spell, the 'why' of Oakflesh so to speak, and we've gone over what it does, let's get to the good bit: casting it.
First, activate your Magicka. This will feel like a soft, almost glowing energy. Concentrate on this energy. Let it flow towards your hands. It will do this naturally, but rejecting the flow may cause some injuries.
Second, begin to spread it. You must flatten the Magicka out very thin, like a sheet of parchment. The most common method to do this is to think of this as baking. Your willpower in this is like a rolling pin. Your Magicka, the dough. Flatten the Magicka back and forth, squeezing out all inconsistencies in its density.
Now you must follow this next part carefully, as this part varies, depending on your height and weight. Ensure the measurements are roughly the same. These variables can affect the spells' effects for differing races. As some species of Man and Mer are more resistant, and others more attuned, this can be quite important, especially for this to be used in combat. This is because the sizing affects the flow and consistency of Magicka, while the species affects the spell's compatibility with the caster. Were a 7-foot-tall, 270 lb. Nord casting the Oakflesh spell for a 5-foot-tall, 120 lb. Bosmer, he would receive the most minimal of effects, the greatest of inconsistencies, and the experience of what getting kicked by a mammoth feels like as he flies backwards from casting the wrong spell. The spell shape is affected not only by the shape of your physical form, but your race and its proficiencies. Casting the wrong spell can not only affect you, but also your surroundings, as seen with powerful Destruction spells and novice mages. Creating your own spell is equivalently dangerous, as spell-making is a process ruled by clear thought, a steel will, and a fine control of Magicka, in both you and your surroundings. Innovating upon what's known is extremely dangerous, so focus on what you are able to do before trying to do what you can't.
Cast the spell for you and your body type (be realistic), or don't cast it at all. This spells' effects are relatively less painful compared to those of the Destruction school, so paying attention to detail here would certainly improve your chances of casting the spell right the first time. However, just because the risk for you is less, doesn't mean the risk for others is lessened as well. Flying bodies don't do too well when they hit people, and vice versa.
For those taller than 5 feet, but shorter than 5.45, and weighing between 120-180 pounds:
If you are a Bosmer ..."
I stopped reading that part and skipped to the bit about the races of Man.
"For those taller than 6 feet, but shorter than 6.45, and weighing between 210-270 pounds:
If you are of Nordic origin:
Fold the flattened Magicka into a rectangular prism, approximately 2.3 inches wide by 2.5 inches long, by 6.4 inches high. Whatever leftover Magicka you have, form into four smaller cubes. Their size does not matter. If you cannot make all four cubes out of lack of Magicka, that is alright, but your spell will not last as long nor withstand as much damage.
The large cube is to be casted over your main body, while the four smaller ones are supplementary. They are there to give extra Magicka to the large cube whenever it runs out of Magicka. They are, in essence, Magicka batteries. Forming them should be approximately ten times as easy as forming the armor.
The Welkynd stones of the ancient Ayleid ruins of Cyrodiil are very similar. You may or may not have heard of them.
After adjusting the size of the Magicka, all you have to do now is push the cubes into one of your hands. Now imagine being covered in light armor, and cast it. The Magicka in the spell will do the rest."
I activate my Magicka, and begin trying to flatten it, like the book said. It feels strange, like trying to cut wood by punching it.
I check the book over again, and notice that it said to treat it like cooking, and to imagine using a rolling pin to flatten it out.
I try flattening it again, but rolling it back and forth, forcing the Magicka to stretch as I do it more and more. This method worked much better than I was expecting, and I was able to stretch it out to a considerable degree.
I fold it now, by flipping one side of the Magicka I had stretched out into the other, and repeating that process.
My Magicka resulted in a large soft shape that was somewhere between a cube and a ball. I squeeze the Magicka together, but it was like forcing two magnets of the same polarity against each other. It was difficult, but not in a way that felt like the usual kind of difficulty with magic.
The Magicka roiled and rubbed against the sides before sparks appear. Sweat beads on my forehead, and I start to get nervous. The sparks disappear as the Magicka took ahold of itself somehow, and formed into a perfect cube.
I don't know what just happened, but whatever it was, I really hope it was something good. With my extra Magicka I repeat the process with four times, but unlike the first time, it was significantly easier and the Magicka folds quickly. The cube shape was easy to form, as I didn't have to work as hard for a smaller shape.
I look back at the spellbook, holding Oakflesh in my hands. I continue reading from where I left off.
"--push the cubes into one of your hands. Now imagine being covered in light armor, and cast it. The Magicka in the spell will do the rest."
I edge the spell into my right hand, and shut my eyes. I think of the Imperial armor I wore a few days ago, and squeeze right hand lightly, so lightly none of the Magicka was affected.
'Imperial light armor, Imperial light armor, Imperial light armor.' The way it weighed, the feeling of the rough leather straps it had, and the feeling of being attacked in such armor echoes through my mind.
I release both my hand and my hold on the Magicka. It explodes upward, and as it does, I cover my face with arms as I shrink back. I hit the bed, and fall into it.
When I realize that nothing's happened, I look around, a little bit terrified something might occur. My surroundings are all exactly as they were a minute before. I look at my body and see a glowing teal gel-like covering on the surface of my skin. It was about half an inch thick. I try to pinch it and pull it off, but as my hand gets close, it hardens.
Is this... non-Newtonian Magicka? I don't think Magicka really works within the boundaries of physics, though...
Unlike armor, the spell weighs nothing but seemingly works just as well, if not better, for the simple reason that this spell can cover both clothing and armor.
I sigh in relief and take a deep breath, before laughing. My spell works! The only problem is that it drains my Magicka completely when I used it. Anyways, now that I understand it, I can use it whenever I want. Constantly draining and regaining my Magicka seems to be growing my pool, like I'm in some kind of wuxia or manhua novel. I suppose it makes sense to some degree, but I'm probably going to have to go to the College of Winterhold soon.
I need to focus on what I'm going to do after the main questline. There's a lot of things I'm going to have to do. I should probably focus on the quests that will prove the most dangerous in the future, in order to prevent large deaths and panic. The first one I need to focus on would be the civil war. Actually, it'd probably be best if I solve the civil war issues while I follow through with the main questline of killing Alduin.
After that, I'll have to head to Riften for a bunch of various reasons, such as but not limited to, reviving the Thieve's Guild, saving the Dark Brotherhood, adopting Lucia (amongst other orphans). After Riften, I'll have to head to Solitude, the capital city of Skyrim, and prevent the revival of the Wolf Queen. The Wolf Queen was a very violent queen whose revival would follow through with a terrible prophecy about the fall of Solitude. Or something like that. At least, I'm pretty sure that's what the backstory or flavor text, or whatever, for the quest said. Besides the major quests, I didn't really pay attention to some of the more minor ones. It seems that a lot of the information I should have, having played Skyrim for so long, I no longer have while in Skyrim.
Another place, or rather places, I have to go to eventually, are the Daedric Shrines. Going to the shrines would allow me access to the artifacts of the Daedra. The first ones I need to obtain would be the sword Dawnbreaker, the armor, the Ebony Mail, and the shield, Spellbreaker. Their effects combined maximize survival in the early game by a lot, and would allow me to deal with the undead and mages much easier. A literal "With our powers combined..." scenario.
Dawnbreaker can be gotten through finding Meridia's Beacon, a special white dodecahedron, which can be pretty much anywhere in Skyrim. Meridia is the Daedric Prince of Life and Infinite Energies, so she's cool. By taking the Beacon to Meridia's shrine, and completing her quest, I'll be able to get the Dawnbreaker. Of course, the necromancer at the end is fairly difficult to defeat, so I'll need help when I go to get it.
The Ebony Mail is arguably easier. I can get that by killing Boethiah's Champion, a person that Boethiah, the Daedric Prince of Treachery, Sedition, and the Unlawful Overthrow of Authority, doesn't like. The reason being that the Champion is getting older and wants to live free of the Daedra's involvement.
Spellbreaker will be annoying to get, because I'll be forced to fight a bunch of diseased fanatics in order to get to the mage who I need to kill for Peryite, who doesn't like him because the mage's "taking them down the wrong path," or some crap like that. In any case, when I go to kill the mage, I'll need someone with me to make it much easier. The mage who I need to kill loves to teleport. So... Yeah. Fuck that guy. I'll need help.
Speaking of help, I don't want to use a person, as they might die when I go to get it, so I should retrieve Sanguine's Rose, yet another Daedric artifact. Sanguine, the Daedric Prince of Depravity and Corruption, will make do a bunch of bullshit while drunk. Sanguine's Rose is a staff that summons a Dremora ally of my strength level.
Dremora are, on average, humanoid lesser Daedra that are visually similar to Darth Maul from Star Wars. Black and red skin, horns, the works. However, depending on the Daedric Prince the Dremora serves, they could appear differently. There are, of course, the Golden Saints and the Dark Seducers, two tribes of Dremora from Sheogorath's, the Daedric Prince of Madness, plane of the Shivering Isles, that appear completely different than the generic Dremora from Mehrunes Dagon's plane of Oblivion.
Sanguine's Rose, of course, summons one of the most unlikely allies possible: the Dremora from Oblivion. These are the most violent and hated Dremora of all. Summoning one in a city is a quick way to get yourself locked behind bars, as they fall into suspicion quickly.
My Oakflesh dissipates as it's time has run out. For now I think, I don't really need to focus on getting the artifacts. What I need to focus on right now is getting stronger and finding people strong enough for me to take with me to finish the main quest.
Thinking so much is hurting my brain. I relax my body and sigh. My body's been tenses up the entire time, from killing Mirmulnir, to getting to now. It's time to rest. As soon as I have that thought, my mind goes blank and I fall asleep.
-----------------
¹Some DLC's and mods are added because of lore-relativity, common sense, realism, etc., besides the fact that most of them are, or would be, actual things in the game.
-----------------
Funds: 1,079 septims
Weapons:
💠 - Orcish Sword of Paralysis
💠 - Blade of Whiterun (Ebony longsword, 3rd Era, 10 points Frost damage/5 to Stamina/ slow)
💠 - Quicksilver Throwing Knives {x5}
💠 - Nordic Daggers {x2}
- Elven Bow, Unstrung {x12 Elven Arrows}
- Orcish Sword
Apparel:
💠 - Refurbished Steel Helm (15% more armor)
💠 - Steel Armor (HP Regen. Injury Heal Rate 25%↑, Light Wound Heal 50%↑)
💠 - Spiked Steel Gauntlets (+20 extra H2H damage)
💠 - Refitted Steel Boots (15% more armor)
💠 - Custom Quicksilver buckler (18% more armor)
- Winter Cloak (20% Cold Resistance)
- Snow Bear Greatcloak (50% Cold Resistance)
- Shield of the Dragonslayer (Kite, 40% Fire Resistance)
Potions:
- Mysterious Potion {x4}
Food:
- Basket of Fruits and Vegetables; {onions x4, apples x8, leeks x5, potatoes x8, head of cabbage x2, carrots x6, loaves of bread x2}
Books:
- Stack of Stormcloak notes and letters to family {x15}
- Letter to Thrynn & Torturer's Ring
- Spell Tome: Sparks
- Spell Tome: Oakflesh
Scrolls:
- Scroll of Blizzard
Supplies:
- Backpack
- Bedroll / Mountain Bedroll
- Cooking pan
- Waterskin
- Metal Bowl
- Torches {x3}
- Tent
- Pitons
- Climbing harness
- Rope (200 ft.)
- Hiking Staves {x2}
- Ice Picks {x2}
Miscellaneous:
- Lockpicks {x1}
- Vial for Mysterious Potion
- Golden Claw
- Potion bottle remains