This is the spoiler version of the other Today In Skyrim, where we can talk at length, with spoilers permitted, about the quests we have done...'Cause some of us can't keep our mouth shut... ...




J'Zirlo is no longer a Werewolf!!...YAY!!...*Does dance*...

And neither are Farkas or Vilkas...According to the both of them, they never asked for it...So the least I could do is cure them...

So, after the terror of a glitch which meant it wouldn't cure me...Which I reloaded and it worked...I got the two others cured and now we are busy turning the Companions into the Fighters Guild...Yes...*Applauds*...

Haven't talked to Aela yet to see what she thinks of being the only werewolf in town... ...


Aaaah, Spoilers...I feel so free!!...

In the twenty minute go-ette I had this morning...I went to talk to Aela, who promptly sent me off to Winterhold to...Wait for it...Kill a wolf!...No, seriously, kill a wolf...

Aamywho, killed it - having been assured that the wolf would be difficult, because Skyrim beast are no picnic - in two hits... ...

Then, because I was right next to the College, I started the Mage-y questline, so as to get J'Zargo...

"Brother? How is it that you do not recognize me?...Have you been afflicted by that disease? Oh, what's it called...Hmmm...Oh yes!...Idiocy?"

From the journal of Hrafngoelir

I joined the Stormcloaks Ma. I think it's what Da would have wanted. I don't know if you would approve or not. But I know it is something I have to do. Skyrim cannot go on serving an Empire that licks the boots of the damned Thalmor. We Nords have to fight for our country, and our gods.

There is a shrine of Talos right across the river from Windhelm. I stopped there to pay my respects to the old man, and think a while. When I was done, I was more sure than ever that what I was doing was not only right, but necessary.

I saw Jarl Ulfric in the palace when I went to join up. He even spoke to me briefly. He remembered me from Helgen, and Ralof. I have to admit that hearing his name made my heart beat a little faster. Would I be seeing him again soon? Only time will tell.

I had to prove myself before they would take me. They sent me to one of the little islands off the Sea of Ghosts. The one where the Serpent Stone is. I had to fight the ice wraiths that live there. I only found one, but that was good enough to satisfy Galmar Stone-Fist. He's Ulfric's right hand man.

When I got back, I took part in a plan of Galmar's to recover the Jagged Crown. Yes, you read that right, The Jagged Crown. The one the High Kings wore in the days of old. He said it was buried with one of the old kings, Harald I think. Not that it matters who anymore, he's just bones now.

We got there, but found the Imperials were there first. We had to fight our way through. They fell easily enough before us. We Stormcloaks fight for our gods, and our freedom. What do the Imperials fight for? Greed? They could not stand against us.

Did I forget to tell you? Ralof was with us! I have to admit, that I wanted to kiss him, and perhaps a little more. But there were other soldiers all around. He said that he remembered me, but did not say much else. I am not sure if it was because of everyone else standing there. Or if there is someone else? Or does he just not see me the way I see him? Oh gods Ma, this is so confusing.

After the Imperials, we had to chop our way through draugr. But they all fell before us. Galmar turned out to be right. The crown was there. He gave it to me to carry back to Windhelm, and deliver personally to Jarl Ulfric. I wish I could have stayed, and maybe found some time alone with Ralof. But I have to admit, carrying the ancient crown of the jarls was a great honor. I tried it on during the journey back, when no one could see. It did not fit though. I suppose that means I was not meant to be a High Queen!

Ulfric was surprised to see the helm. I think he lost a bet with Galmar. But he was glad nontheless. This will help prove that he is the rightful High King, once a Moot can be called to make a vote. We will have to drive the Imperials out before that can happen though, since they would never allow Nords to choose their rulers, not when those rulers stand up against the Thalmor.

Since I was there, Ulfric sent me on another mission right away. He gave me his axe, to deliver to Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun. He was forcing Balgruuf to choose a side. The sly old snake has been playing off both sides until now, not declaring for one or the other. But no more, now we would see where his heart really lay: with Skyrim, or with the Empire.

I was not surprised when he turned me away, with the axe. I overheard his steward talking about cartloads of Imperial gold delivered to them, and calling for aid from General Tullius. I remember that fetcher. He was there at Helgen, when they tried to lop my noggin off. That Balgruuf would sooner have Tullius' gold then Skyrim honor was what I expected after what he said the first time I met him, that it was none of his business who the Imperials chose to execute. He doesn't give a damn about Skyrim, just his treasure chest.

As I left the city, I had a strange feeling. Everything seemed so quiet and peaceful, as people went about their business as if it were any other day. They did not hear the ravens croaking their doom. For I knew I would be returning soon, with the Stormcloak army. It makes me sad that the common people will have to suffer because of their Jarl's greed and selfishness. But if they fight for him, and his filthy Empire, then they have chosen their wyrd.


-Hrafn, on the road to Windhelm.

I’m giggling at Aela sending J’Zirlo off to kill a wolf. Was he wearing wolf armor when he did it?

So Hrafn is off to war, again. I liked her musing over the last quiet day in Whiterun. It always makes Jensa a little sad to return there.


Jensa’s report contains Main Quest spoilers, and here’s a spoilerish picture. Wheee!

I’ve talked to a dragon, and we’re both still alive. Stenvar too. Here’s what happened.

Paarthurnax, or at least that’s as close as I can come to writing his name. Our letters just can’t do it justice. Our words can’t convey all that a dragon is. What I know was already in my blood and bones. He just woke it up.

That sounds like mage talk. I’ll try to make some better sense.

First I’ll say that we’re camped in a troll hollow partway down the mountain from High Hrothgar. It doesn’t smell great under here, but now that we’ve gotten our armor off we don’t smell great either. It’s high enough to stay dry in this freezing rain, and no trees will fall on us if the ice gets thick enough to make them tip over. Plus the only things fool enough to come around a troll hollow are the ones that killed the troll. So we can sleep tonight.

We got warmed up and ate dried horker meat and apples for our meal. It took longer to write it than it did to eat it. Though I’ll be picking horker strings out of my teeth for days. So now I’ll get to what’s been bothering me.

Up at the Throat of the World, that dragon gave me another word for fire. He taught me to understand it the way a dovah does, as my will and my right. It didn’t change me, because what I felt must have already been there. That’s what scared me. For a moment I knew what it was to have mortals kneeling at my feet, offering the worship that I deserve. I knew what it was to hold so many lives hostage to my whim. When the feeling faded with my fire, I felt a loss.

Stenvar waited until we were stretched out on the furs before he brought up the subject. That man has a real sense of timing. He sure had my attention.

“Paarthurnax greeted you as kin,” Stenvar said to me.

“Yeah,” I said back, but it was more like a gasp.

“You’re still the same you that you were this morning.” Then he smiled and whispered Jensa, and the world was only me and him.

He’s asleep now. I’ve sat up long enough to write and think a while. I’m not afraid of what I am any more. I remember all I need to know when I look at that battered old face.

Brilliant, both of you...Just brilliant...

As a wise man once said,

When I grow up, I want to be able to write like you...



That made I laugh... ...

Having activated a trap by removing an amulet from a door in the dark fastness of Saarthal...Or is it Sarthaal?...Aaamywho...J'Zirlo has just blown a door out with his firey magics and is about to amble through it with the venerable Tolfdir...

"Are you sure it is safe elder Tolfdir?"

"Heh...That's the good thing about Elders, my young Khajiit, we've found the many ways to not be killed yet...Let us see...This way!..."

It looks like Hrafn's tale has come to a premature end. She completed the Message to Whiterun quest with no problems. But the game will not start the Battle for Whiterun quest. Even when I try forcing it with the console.

I do not know if this is because of my main quest disabler or not, since I left all the civil war hooks active. Unless there is something after Dragon Rising that the civil war requires? My man quest stops permanently there.

I have been thinking of a new character for a while. A pure mage/witch who will be heavily into animal summoning. It looks like I will be creating her sooner then expected. I will just have to think of a name and race. Maybe a Breton, then she could run around in that silly Forsworn outfit. Or maybe a Redguard. I could try to make a Native American-looking character like Lady Saga did with Dyami.

*Wholeheartedly encourages the running around in the silly Forsworn outfit...*... ...

*Although admits he probably doesn't have the knees for it really... ...*...


EDIT: There's that bit where the Dovakhin has to broker a peace deal between the Empire and Stormcloaks. The bit where Bethesda shows it has no idea of how things really work™? Idiots... ...You probably thought of that though...

That stinks about Hrafn's game ending. I like the idea of the animal summoner very much, though.

Denelle the adorable Breton archer mage fought her first blood dragon today, just with her bow and completely by herself. She also had to kill a wolf during the battle. She was able to get the job done only because the dragon kept landing and walking forward trying to bite her. Thankfully she is kind of an overachiever in the alchemy department, because she used up almost all of her arrows and poisons killing it. It was very, very fun. I’m playing on a big TV and the subwoofer can make the house move, so a blood dragon in your face has quite a lot of impact.

She was all alone on the road because Erik the Slayer was off in parts unknown. He may have been delayed along the river by his need to seek out and destroy every mudcrab in Skyrim. He ambled up while she was standing over the skeletal head, noticing how the lavender flowers poked up around the bones. It was a very Denelle moment.

Later she accidentally took on some Forsworn also by herself. She wears no armor and the Ironflesh spell doesn’t last long enough to spit, so it was pretty tense when they got close enough to smack her. Frost spells saved the day. Then Erik showed up in time to remark how the Forsworn live like savages. Denelle was very glad he did not catch her trying on the Forsworn “armor.”

She was also told today by a hulking stranger that she looks dangerous. That was pretty funny. She looks like the babysitter.

...Looks like a babysitter!...Love it...She sounds cool...

J'Zirlo went deeper into Sarthaal. Thereupon he was received a vistation by a creepy Altmer that only he could see, and was then told he had to save the world from whatever foolery was on its way...

"You will be judged on your actions little mage. The Psijic Order have been watching you for sometime..We have faith in your power."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"Rrreally?"

"Um...Yes."

"I fear you confuse Khajiit with his foolish brother's delusions of grandeur."

"And yet I'm in your head. Don't make me come over there and hurt you. Having your head explode will put a hell of a dent in your day. Go save the world Khajiit. We will talk again."

*Sigh*...

"I heard that."


Tolfdir, who hadn't seen or heard anything except J'Zirlo's talking to himself...Got into a fight with a goodly few Dragur...And then eventually found a glowing orb which made J'Zirlo's teeth itch...

"Ahh, the mighty Dragur Lord with the silly name...Come, throw your frosty-spikes at J'Zirlo, whilst I smack your head with my shield repeatedly...Like this...And this...And this..."...*Stab*..."Oh dear, you are now dead...Again..."

I don't think that is it. I used the console, which has some very helpful tools to see what is going on with the quests. It is actually finishing all the stages of the Message To Whiterun quest. I did so with the console, which is supposed to kick off the Attack on Whiterun quest. It does start it, but here is where Bethesda's idiocy really takes charge.

The Attack on Whiterun quest is really 4 separate quests, and jammed together into one: It is the Defense of Whiterun if you are an Imperial, the Attack on Windhelm if you are an Imperial, The Attack on Whiterun if you are a Stormcloak, and the Attack on Solitude if you are a Stormcloak. Make sense? Of course not.

It is a radiant quest, and the game is supposed to assign the objectives and questgivers automagically. Only it is not doing any of that. It sits on stage one, which is supposed to start the Stormcloak attack on Whiterun. But it does not assign Galmar as the quest giver (as it should), or anything else. I cannot manually advance it through the stages with the console, because it creates the stages dynamically, and it is not doing it. So the game just tells me that the stages do not exist.

So I tried another trick, and tried manually completing the quest. That worked, and kicked off the Liberation of Skyrim quests. Only the same problem happens here. This is also a radiant quest, and the game will not create the radiant objectives. It tells me to talk to Ulfric, but he has nothing to say to me. I cannot advance the quest manually, because there are no stages yet.

So basically, the game took a massive poop on Hrafn and I. I don't know if this has anything to do with my main quest disabler or not. But I doubt it. I guess the only way to find out would be to do the main quest and the civil war with another character and see what happens. I suppose I could disable the random dragons, that would make it a little more palatable...


In any case, I created that witch character. Since I thought Dyami was so neat, I followed Lady Saga's lead and created a Native American Redguard.

Meet Kachina

Ralof was a little disappointed when she picked the Mage Stone

Here she is with her first summoning

Funny thing, when the first walked into Riverwood, Faendal was laying dead in the street. Thankfully the Resurrect command was able to fix that though. He might make a good companion for Kachina.

Cured Farkas and Vilkas of their Lycanthropy. Few ingame weeks later, I was hunting in the pine forest. I stalked a group of hunters camping out, wolfed out under a full moon, and ran around.

Who do I see running to attack me? Farkas! And his friends!

Seriously bro, we share the same blood! Ergh, shared.


Anyways, I finally bought the honeyside home. Awesome place.

Ahhhhh.....




See, that's hardcore! Claire Voyance's game also came to a stop, which is why I never talk about her anymore. Her partner Breilyna died. Claire and Brelyna shared so much, did so many things together, when Brel died, Claire had no idea what to do next, she is of course, very sad. So her game is on hold. She'll probably wind up going back to Cyrodiil (thru Pale Pass) or retiring. I don't know yet.




Sweet! I woulda voted for the witch, but it'll be interesting to see what we both can do with native americans. This sort of Earth racial type totally fits with the roleplay of Skyrim, know what I mean?

Today I went from a level 23 to a level 73. Thank you Ogma Infinium!!!

Today I got to watch The Boy start a new character. I saw some things I hadn’t seen before.

One, The Boy can hit a flying dragon with every arrow. I cannot express how much this annoys me. And he gave his Bosmer a long, thick beard and a helmet. I said, “But with a helmet on, how can you see his—” And The Boy cut me off by pausing the game while he laughed at me.

Second, I saw Mirmulnir use a Fire Ball Shout. I’ve seen plenty of Fire Breath, but never a Fire BALL. He did it twice!!

Also, and this I could have done without, I witnessed my first teabag the dragon skull ritual. D’oh!

Then we had lunch, and it was my turn to play. Now 1.05 is loading!! Woo hoo!

1.05?...This a new update?...PC or PS3?...

*Is wondering what's on this one...*...

Patch/update came today on the PS3. I’ve seen new finishing moves for archery and unarmed so far, plus I’ve seen my game freeze every time the new J’Shanji jumps into the water. Nooo!

*grumble*

I saw one of the archery finishing moves too. It was unexpected... I gotta have Aravi take down more people unarmed though.

Likewise. But it can be fixed if you delete the patch and the Game Data Utility and reinstall the patches. I loaded and jumped in the water and everything was fine.

Oh good, I’ll do that as soon as I get the game back from The Boy and the downstairs back from everyone else. (They’re watching TV.)

The new unarmed finishers are the reason for J’Shanji’s 100 hour restart. Also he had reached level 39 and had way too much stuff. Now we can have the fun all over again. Anyway, here’s J’Shanji Version 3. I gave him tiger stripes this time, and went back to the big ears. Here’s Version 2 for comparison.

J'Shanji has a little more attitude and a lot fewer concerns this time around. He picked up Faendal immediately. He really missed that elf. I made him help Sven in his second life so that it wouldn’t be a repeat of his DiD game. Also he’s in heavy armor, which he wouldn’t touch before. Going for the heavy hands, I guess.

So you remade your character, then?

Yep. The first time he suffered death by sabre cat while being burned by a dragon, so I deleted his saves. That’s when I was playing Dead is Dead. I soon realized that I was spending more time in character creation than actually playing, so now in Skyrim Dead is Reload. The second J’Shanji just got too powerful and rich, so I deleted his saves and started a new game as soon as 1.05 loaded, creating him from scratch. He was pretty pissed off to wake up in that wagon again, I can tell you!

I’m looking forward to having him level up more slowly with Smithing being fixed and him not getting points (or whatever) for unarmed fighting. I disliked leveling up so much from just making some leather stuff to sell from the wolves that attacked him.

Wow, that is crazy. I never tried Dead is Dead. It must be a hassle to constantly delete your characters. I can't imagine! And he died by a Sabre Cat, when there always are those pesky arrows flying about.

And the sabre cat was on fire when it killed him. D'oh!!

Surely you jest milady, this is great use for the damned fool puppies is it not? says J'Zirlo...

You mean buying all the leather stuff the blacksmith has and then making umpteen leather bracers is no longer on?... ...Damn... ...


EDIT...Just read the full list of fixes...Doesn't mention the Roerek not selling the house thing...Grr... ...

Still think it's stupid the amount they're having to do just to get the game to work properly...Hopefully they'll learn for when they do the next Fallout...

I think that having to delete the Game Data is just ridiculous...Not going to check it out right now, but I will have to leave a note for the kids to not do the update before I finish work... ...

J'Zirlo has been ramping up his Smithing like there's no tomorrow, (as are the kids) prior to downloading this new patch...Yes, it's a cheat...Now ask me if I care... ...

Aaamywho...it's now Legendary at 93 so we may stop there...

Also tried to carry on with the quest I was doing for Farkas, clearing out some dragurs in somewhereorother...Sadly, for the second time, we died...Fell down a trapdoor...Grrr...Was bored then...

Will try again tomorrow...*Sigh*...

Finished that quest with J'Zirlo...The trapdoor was the right way to go, I'd just missed the shelves you're supposed to drop onto on the way down to prevent said death!!... ...But now all is well...

Went back to the college to finish the J'Zargo scroll thing you need to do before he will become a follower...

Now, all I need to do is make some monies to get all the stuff to make a couple of decent sets of armour and J'Zargo is on his way...Booyah!!...Bounty Huntings-are-us!!...

Also, Caerellin delivered his missives of Luurve around Riften (*snort*) and managed to find the missing priest in the Bee and Barb...Funny that, the priest was in the pub...Who'd have thought?... ...Aaaamywho, having found the missing minister, Caerellin married the mill-owner Aeri from Anga's Mill (halfway-ish between Dawnstar and Riften)...'Cause she's sweet...And she has a house...No, it's not a cynical ploy...No it isn't, it's a valid story decision...It is!!...

The scenery around there is beautiful though...Soooo nice...

This latest go saw me ambling about, learning about Shaade...She's a mega archer, she's very destructo and she seems to have a mad-on for wolves...I like her!!... ...

We cleared out the appropriately named Embershard (cause that's how Shaade is pronounced...Shard...) Mine, and then we travelled the winding road towards Whiterun...She felled the Giant and was complimented by Aela...

We walked some more and killed somewhere in the region of 12(!!) wolves...

Oh, and then she went and cleared Fort Greymoor... ...

Shaade rocks!!... ...

Nice one McBadgere; Shaade sounds quite lethal already, it seems!

In other news, started a new game as Aranios Sayl, a thief, rogue and gentleman of fortune (handsome devil, ain't he?). I'll be relating his (mis?)adventures in journal style, as is the popular manner, and I'll admit I'm already having a lot of fun with him.


Extract from the Journal of Aranios Sayl; Gentleman of fortune, and somehow hero of Skyrim for reasons that still escape me to this day

Day 1

Either I am a very lucky man or there is someone up there making fun of me right now. Possibly both.

My first day in Skyrim started with me on a cart bound for Skyrim's border town of Helgen for the rather unfortunate ultimate destination of the headsman's block. I, once again victim to the harsh, reactionary and biased 'justice' of the Empire or the Thalmor or whoever runs this place nowadays, was on my way to be killed for reasons that were entirely unreasonable; I swear to you now that the Count of Bruma's daughter made no mention of her heritage and if she had I wouldn't have even gone near. If you ask me, it's she that's the one deserving execution, not I. But I digress.

I was thoroughly miserable as we departed, and I was all for legging it like that horse thief with us before he took more arrows in him than was good for a person. The Stormcloak with us, some lump who was all for honour and glory and that rot suggested that we should face our deaths like men, an idea that did not sit comfortably with me; I've never faced anything like a man before and facign death like one is certainly not a good place for an amateur to start, seeing as it's generally a good idea to walk before you run and all that.

I was on the block when a third party intervened in my execution and saved my hide. Normally I'd be rejoicing about such a thing, but this was a mixed blessing. The reason for that was simlpe; the third party was, of all things, an eight-damned dragon. And I'll admit that, when it came into view, I may have done somethign that my mother had taught me not to do when I was two.

In the confusion, I managed to leg it and ended up running through the castle with an Imperial named Hadvar, a member of the Legion, of all things. Now I know it sounds strange for me to go with someone who was collaborating in chopping my head off, but frankly when there's a dragon flying around outside and someone's holding a door open into a big, secure castle made of solid stone you're not really in a position to be choosy. I mean, the man could have been a deranged, murderous leper and I'd have found him preferble to a dragon.

We made our way through several caves, and managed to finally get out despite the intervention of several spiders, some Stormcloaks and having to slip past a bear (got their venom from their fangs, which should come in handy). Eventually we made our way to daylight, and after that we reached Riverwood, a fairly backwards and unexciting place but, fortunately, it had an inn and a store where I was able to sell some of the weapons I'd taken off the dead in return for some arrows and healing potions. Hadvar said that it would be best if I made my way to Whiterun to warn Jarl Balgruff of our slight dragon problem, and I decided to get that done tomorrow; I'd had quite enough for today.

Hadvar suggested I join the Legion, and while I'm not normally inclined towards siding with people who try to kill me or all that interested in general soldiering, I need some Septims and I suppose there are worse ways to chat up wenches than saying you're a soldier. I'll give it a thought, if they'll take someone like me.


Day 3

I didn't warn the Jarl, in the end.

I'm in Riften at the moment, and the reasons for this are fairly simple. I got as far as the gate (narrowly avoided being savaged by a pack of wolves on the way) and bumped into some Khajiit camped outside. One of them mentioned the Thieves Guild were operating outside of Riften, and so I figured that the best thing to do would be to check that out if I wanted some coin. So I got a nearby cart, not wanting a repeat incident of my run-in with those wolves, and arrived in the city.

Ran into a fellow named Brynjolf there who offered me some work, namely planting a ring on a Wood Elf. That sort of thing was right up my street, and I managed to rob some Argonian dry in the meantime, and after the deed was done he said to meet him down in the 'Ratway'. Not quite sure what it was, but apparently it was dangerous so I left the city to build my funds hunting and getting some better equipment. Managed to clear out a cave full of wolves and accidentally picked a fight with a horse which I nearly didn't walk away from; the damn thing just wouldn't die.

In any case, I managed to survive, knocked together some bracers to sell and managed to scrape together some cash. I'm sticking aroudn Riften at the moment, buying and selling at the moment, and seeing what will hit me next.

Life for Aranios Sayl has become rather interesting, it seems...

Congratulations to Caerellin on the nuptials!

Aranios sounds fun, Colonel.

Here's the latest from Jensa:

Stenvar and I are camped at the top of a ruined tower. We’re high up in the Jerrals looking out over the Rift. I’m pretty sure that Bruma is just a short distance over to the south. And a decent drop, of course. The snow stopped and the wind quit, so there’s nothing but a pile of furs between us and the stars. Dragons always pick the best spots to lair.

We’re safe up here because we killed the dragon. I found another Word of Power, just like the letter said. I’m not sure what we’ll do next. I’ll never say it, but Stenvar needs some time to recover. While we were fighting the dragon he was damn near killed by a bear.

I want to go back to High Hrothgar. Arngeir might have another Word for me to find. I hate to ask Stenvar to make that climb again so soon. I wish I could fly, I’d be there right now and back in time to hold this man when the sun comes up over Morrowind. He’s not one for love talk even when we’re loving, but tonight he said some sweet things to me. He must have been thinking about dying.

Maybe there’s a Shout that will let me fly. The dragons manage it somehow, they’re not built like birds. I wonder if everyone has flying dreams like I do, or if that’s just my dragon blood making promises it can’t deliver. I’m having too many thoughts. Those Greybeards must be rubbing off on me.

Anyway I need to decide what to do next. Calder says we should fix the roof, and that means coin. Lucky I have a Housecarl to inform me of such matters. I don’t know a thing about keeping a house like Hjerim, and neither does Stenvar. I guess we could go through to Riverwood and pick up a bounty. That would take us back to Whiterun, and Jorrvaskr. I could stand to drink some mead with Torvar and break Njada’s nose again. Maybe Aela will get it through her thick head that there are no sabre cats at Greenspring Hollow, and she should get over it and just give me a different job. And maybe trolls will fly and skeevers will take up embroidery. Still, it’s worth a try.

Surely I'm too polite to laugh that much!!... ...Oh, loved it Colonel!!...The bit about the daughter's heritage!!...Nice one... ...

The Jensa bit was cool Grits...Nice for you to go back to her... ...


Personally, yesterday, I had a go with all of the charcters I've got in the Skyim Knights lot...It gave me a headache actually... ...

But yeah, from Caerellin and J'Zirlo, I then did a bit with Shaade, started on the Wood-Elf, Dinasafon (guess who ), did some with J'Drell, and finally the failure with Olfsson...

Too much in one go...Therefore, I am having a slight break for a time, this should help the story more... ...

Urgh...Mine eyes!!... ...

Pages from the journal of ex-Smuggler, Hides-His-Hands. Pages found in the caves of Southfringe Sanctum, partially burnt, scattered in the main chamber by the body of an Orc.

Tirdas, 17 of Last Seed, 4E201

In a single day my entire life has been ruined.

This mornings trip into Skyrim was ruined on account of one Ulfic Stromcloak, leader of the Skyrim Rebellions. What he was doing outside the land's boarders is beyond me, but the Imperials set an ambush for him an captured him, and counted me, an Argonian, as one of Ulfric's band. One would be skeptical of such a thing with Ulfic's reputation for his human centric ideals, however, when said Argonian's wagon is filled with war contarband, one tends to believe the simple answer.

So, they rounded Ulfric's merry band up, tosses them, myself, and an unfortunate theif, into wagons and sent us rocking towards the Imperial fort of Helgen, first real settlement in Skyrim's borders. The ride into Skyrim was as expected, the Thief tried to talk his way free while the Stormcloaks spouted Nordic honor in the face of death. I do not want die here, so far from the songs of the Marsh, from fellow Saxhleel.

We arrived in Helgen where the Imperials strode us before a headsman's block. I thought of fleeing, but the Thief moved before I could, and then he didn't. The Imperials shot him down before he could even see the gates. The called us one by one to the block, I tired to reason with the Legate in charge, explain why I was not on the list of known Stormcloak's and their allies, but she smiled cruelly and set me in line with the traitors.

I do not know why am I still alive, but I am. Many did not escape Helgen when It attacked. A monster as black as night, with eyes of fire. It was a dragon, and it looked at me. I felt it's eyes on me, felt its rage. It hated me, and it destroyed the entire fort trying to kill me. I do not know if this is fear that writes my words, but I feel it's in my bones, It is looking for me, hunting me.

An Imperial helped me escape, he was the caller of the list. He seemed genuinely regretful that he had sent me to my death not but moments ago and led me through the fort's interior. I killed people. Nords defending their homeland, their beliefs, and I cut them down. This rebellion never seemed to be important, but actually being here. It's difficult.

We parted ways, he is headed to what family he has in the riverside settlement of Riverwood, I broke west. Stumbled on a Hunter's camp, he was generous enough to let me share his fire and point me in the direction of Falkreath, think I will head there in the morning.

Turdas, 20 of Last Seed, 4E201

Taken on the guise of Hunter in Falkreath. It is a small settlement, but holds one of the land's rulers, Nords call them Jarls. The people here are not very trusting, but have been willing to house and shelter an outsider. The owner of the Dead Man's Drink has set me up with a room for as long as I want it, if I can continue to pay her for it. The blacksmith, Lod has asked me to fetch a few pelts for the Jarl's new armor. The Priest of Arkay, a High Elf at that, asked me to get him his journal from Southfinge Sanctum. Said he lost it while exploring it's depths.

I think I will deliver Lod's pelts, then go talk to the Jarl, see if I can help him with any trouble in the hold, least I can do for these people. Then I will fetch the priest Runil his journal. Will need to pack for the trip tgough, it is going to take at least a day to get that far to the east.

What is a cheat?

I think he means spamming iron daggers and hide bracers. Before version 1.4, your skill went up the same no matter what you created, a cheap iron dagger, or a suit of ebony armor. In 1.5 your skill improvement is based on the value of what you are creating. So iron daggers give you a very small skill increase, and things like ebony armor a big one.

Oh, ha ha..I didn't know that! makes sense, though, I'm glad 1.5 changed that. It should take more skill to make a giant glass greatsword than an iron dagger, and it makes that we'd make more of an increase for this extra skill.

I do indeed mean spamming... ...Although it was all leather bracers... ...

We've still not done the update...The kids made new characters and wish to make further use of the loophole... ...

We're not using it 'cause we're desperate to push the character's level up as such, just increase the smithing...

In Oblivion, the repair skill got easier the further towards 100 you went up, so why is it going to take more to level up the higher you go in Skyrim?...

Hey-ho...Progress is for they young... ...


Aaaamywho...

Caerellin is currently engaged in the College of Winterhold shenannigans...

I believe he wants to take a run at the MQ soon...Will have to get the ever popular J'Zargo though...Caerellin is more of a close quarters figher than a long range...Though his archery's going up like the clappers...Bound Bow rules!!!...

...

I think when I make my Nord Stormcloak dude, he's gonna probably do lots of smithing. My previous Nord did too, but he never got to the "mass-production" part. He just made iron and leather stuff, too...never progressed to better stuff (he hated elven, dwarven, and other types of armor). but just before he got killed, he started to realize he'd better start making at least some armors for himself made of steel.

This is how Ulfdis is. She wears steel armor of her own making. She always carries a pick, and mines whatever ore she comes across in her travels. Then at the next city she smiths up some iron or steel swords. You can get a lot of smithing done this way. Especially if you clear out some mines, like Embershard. Ulfidis doesn't want to use any of those elven metals either, so won't even bother with making or buying elven, dwarven, or orcish. She has yet to find any ebony, so I don't know what she thinks about it. She might be in steel for her entire game.

A letter from Ulfdis

Dear Aunt Hervor and Uncle Jomar,

I know I promised to write sooner, but so much has happened since I left Bruma, I have scarcely had the time to sit and think, much less try to put it all in words. It all seems a jumble when I look back on the last few weeks. It is like an entire lifetime has passed by. For some, it has.

I was ambushed by Imperials after going through Pale Pass. Yes, that is right, ambushed. They claimed I was a Stormcloak rebel, and demanded my surrender. I did not want to kill legionaries just doing their job, so I did. Besides, I was certain that once I had the chance to speak with whoever was in command, things would be set to rights. They threw me in a wagon train of others they had also taken prisoner. Two of the men in my wagon really were Stormcloaks. One was the very Jarl of Windhelm himself! The leader of the rebellion against the Empire!

We stopped at an Imperial castle, Helgen is what one of the Stormcloaks said it was. His name is Ralof, he said he once knew a girl there. Before I had a chance to talk, one of the others, a man no more a rebel than I, made a break for it. The battle-serpents flew from the Imperial archer's bows, and he died in the dust.

My turn was next. I tried to explain that I was innocent, but the centurion would hear none of it. My head was destined to become a trophy for their General Tullius, as were those of all of us. He would have had it too, if not for the dragon.

It came out of nowhere. With but a word, the sky turned black as soot, and fire rained from the clouds. It spoke other words, and men died in flame. I cannot describe the words. But I heard them just the same. They rang through me like the beat of a giant drum, making my whole body shake.

Ralof and I escaped in the confusion. So did other Stormcloaks. We made our way to a nearby village, where his kin lived. We split up there, he heading to Windhelm, and me to Whiterun, to warn the local Jarl. Balgruuf is his name, and more slippery than ice on stone is that one. He took me to his wizard, and the next thing I knew I was being sent on a mission to an ancient barrow to retrieve some mucking dragonstone for the damned pompous fools. Well I did as Uncle Jomar always says when dealing with nobles. I nodded and said "yes". Then I got out of there as soon as I could.

Skyrim is not the place I had expected. I thought that returning to the land of my blood would be grander, would speak some hidden truths into my ear. But the only things speaking in this land are the swans of battle. I have had better greetings from the wolves than many of the two-legged folk I have met. Thankfully the wolves are just as good to me as those in Cyrodiil. It is as that Witch Aela told you when you found me as a child. They have marked me, and not just in the scars on my face…

-Ulfdis, somewhere in Skyrim

A Letter From Ulfdis

Dear Aunt Hervor and Uncle Jomar,

Sometimes I wonder why I am still here. I met a family in Whiterun called the Grey Manes. One of their sons had disappeared, been taken by the Imperials. The other son was in hiding, else he be next. I found their missing son. He was a man bigger than Uncle Jomar! But the Thalmor had him, and had been working him over for some time. It was the Imperials that gave him to the Thalmor, them and a family of Nordic collaborators known as the Battle-Borns.

It is just as so many say. The Empire licks the boots of the high elves. I see the damned goldenrods here in Skyrim, dragging men off in chains for worshipping Talos. Some people still do it openly here, not in secret like we did back in Bruma. Jarl Ulfric and his Stormcloaks do. They fight for Talos, and for a free Skyrim.

So do I. It started with the damned Thalmor. First when I set Thorald Grey Mane free, then when I saw Thalmor patrols on the road, dragging people off in chains. The Empire does the same thing. After Helgen, I have no doubt what dark fate awaits those prisoners… It has to stop. The Jarls like Balgruuf will not do anything though. He even said to me that it was no concern of his who the Imperials executed. Only the Stormcloaks seem willing to fight for what is right.

I have seen more of Balgruuf too. I met a young man named Erik in place called Rorikstead. We went into Bleak Falls Barrow and pulled out that stupid dragonstone for the idiot court mage. I felt like choking the peacock with it when I got back to Whiterun. The dragon did not give me the chance though.

Yes, another dragon, different from the first one. It was attacking one of Whiterun's outer towers. The next thing I knew I was out there with a band of Whiterun soldiers, and it was flying overhead. Many were called to Sovngarde, and the blood-swans ate till they were fat afterward. I fought as the rest, and in the end the beast was felled. With its last breath it called me Dovahkiin. Whatever it means, it must be a curse.

Some fools started calling me Dragonborn after that. All I did was be the last to thrust the wolf of wounds into its gullet. That hardly makes me dragon in human form. I may not know what my Ma and Pa's names were, but I know they were not scaly beasts!

I was glad to be quit of Whiterun. The city is big, and wealthy, but I have seen where that wealth comes from. Imperial bribes, traitors like the Battle-Borns selling faithful Nords to the Thalmor. A hard rain will fall upon Whiterun and its conniving Jarl. I feel sorry for those good folk still living there, like the Grey-Manes. They will suffer for the machinations of their leader.

Windhelm is a much different city. It is just as big as Whiterun. Larger perhaps. Certainly much older. It is the ancient capital of the Kings of Skyrim. The city is all dark and brooding stone, whose dour mood is barely lifted by the white blanket of snow that covers everything. A shrine to Talos rises from a hill across the river from it, as if the Old Man was looking out over his city. There is even a temple dedicated to him inside the walls, next to the palace!

For these Nords fight, rather than take the Empire's bribes. I have joined them. I may not have been born in Skyrim, and I may not have a home here, but I can see this is my fight. Even as I write this, I am on my way to an ancient tomb. Ulfric's right hand - Galmar Stone-Fist - thinks we can find the Jagged Crown there. It is the ancient crown of the High Kings itself. If the gods grant that we bring that back to Windhelm and place it on Ulfric's head, it will show that they favor us over the damned faithless Imperials and their puppets.

-Ulfdis, Windhelm.

DAmn those Thalmor. I hate them. Beth got her first taste of Thalmor the other day, four against one. They're nasty folk.

What race is your character, by the way? She's pretty, too.

Ulfdis says thank you. She is a Nord, raised in Bruma.

My first character Scylla basically ignored the Thalmor, and never attacked them. Then one of those four elf hit squads came out of nowhere and tried to kill her. That was one long, tough battle. One had her death warrant on him. I still have no idea why they suddenly went after her.

could be related to the College questlines? I'm thinking that one elf dude who's always in the College (the one who's condescending to us, I think he's a Thalmor himself) has something to do with it. Maybe he's jealous of our PC on his/her way up, and starts dispensing squads of Thalmore agents.

I dunno, that's my guess. Now watch...Ulfdis won't have anything to do with the College, now, right?

Loredas, 22 of Last Seed, 4E201

Falkreath is a good place to live, a little dreary and dry for my taste, but the people here are good, honest folk and they deserve better than this little tyrant they call their Jarl. His lordship Siddgeir is a corrupt boy that rules through his stewards, preferring to reap the benefits of his position without working for them, but this is just a "lowly Lizard's" opinion.

Jarl Siddgeir, the lazy lout, ordered me to fetch a bottle of Black Briar mead from Riften. Lucky for me the Dead Man carries some of the swill. I grabbed a bottle and am headed east towards what I hope is Southfringe, according to a local hunter.

Morndas, 24 of Last Seed, 4E201

What is worse than and Orc with a war hammer? Several Spellswords following an Orc with command over fire! Killed the lot of them with my bow, the Orc nearly cooked me alive, but, lucky, I had a scroll that summoned a "Familiar" which took the form of a wolf. It distracted the big burly beast long enough for me to get a good shot in and finish him.

Runil's Journal was among some loot the gang had gathered. I am ashamed to admit I read the old elf's journal as I returned to town. I wish I did not. He is a tormented soul who deserved peace. I worry for him, as his last entry he depicted a dream he had. It placed him in Falkreath attending to his priestly duties when, out of nowhere, a winged beast swept across the sky, blotting out the sun and casting a shadow across the town. He looked up at the black beast and it roared ending his dream. I fear his foresight and hope Arkay does not call him to death so soon.

This is the funniest quest. He actually wants us to go to Riften to get him mead. Crystal Beth simply went down the street and purchased a bottle from somebody right there in Falkreath.

I did the same!

A Letter From Ulfdis

Dear Aunt Hervor and Uncle Jomar,

That went pretty well, all things considered. Ralof said that to me, as we stood together in Jarl Balgruuf's hall. He was right. It did go well. Whiterun is ours, and the snake of a Jarl cast down. I held my sword at this throat, and was but a moment from sending the wretch to Sovngarde. But then he surrendered.

It was just as well I did not kill him though, for at his word the rest of the city surrendered as well. That at least ended the destruction. The greedy traitor had the gall to threaten us afterward. He even insulted me personally. I spat back in his lying face. If Ralof had not been there to stop me, I would have taken the fetcher's head off right then and there. Then they would be calling me Jarlslayer, rather than Dragonslayer.

It all came to this when Ulfric sent me to Balgruuf. After we returned with the Jagged Crown, he decided it was time that Whiterun committed itself to the war. One way or the other. Ulfric gave me his axe, and bade me present it to Balgruuf as a gift. I may not be from Skyrim, but I did not need to be told what that meant. Either Balgruuf accepted Ulfric's friendship, or he rebuffed it.

Balgruuf chose the latter. Wagonloads of Imperial gold likely swayed his decision, at least according to his own steward. If I had ever doubted what side I chose, I would have no longer. The Empire buys loyalty with money. The Stormcloaks do with honor and steel.

So the blood swans would fly over Whiterun. The skein was woven, and Balgruuf's wyrd was set. Our first assault was on the barricades outside the main gate. I was able to get onto one of the walls there, and fight my way to the drawbridge. It was like Talos himself was in my sword arm that day. For none could stand against me. A slash of my sword cut loose the ropes holding it up, and moment later Galmar and the Stormcloak army was across.

I found Ralof inside the city. The two of us made our way up the hills together, past one barricade and another. Finally we set our boots to Dragonsreach. The doors to the palace could not hold us, and we were inside. Along with Galmar, and a few other stout Nords, we finished what Balgruuf started when he chose Imperial gold over Nordic honor.

That went rather well, all things considered.

-Ulfdis, Whiterun.

^ that's kewl. I'm looking forward to doing the Civil War quest with a character whom is not extant yet. He'll most likely join the Stormcloaks.

Since I restarted Hrafn, I am going to restart her journal as well. Even though some of it will be the same as before. The trouble is, some has already changed as well.


From the journal of Hrafngoelir

Well Ma, you always told me to write things down in a journal, just like you do. I know you always wanted me to be an alchemist like you. When Shor's bones thaw in Sovengarde! But here I am anyway, writing in this empty book I bought from the trader here in Riverwood. I wonder if you are still back in Dawnstar, picking snowberries off the mountainsides? And nagging Pa to wash up before dinner. As if a blacksmith can ever get clean. If you did not like soot, why did you tie Mara's knot with him?

Anyway, why am I writing this Ma? So much has happened in the last few days. So many impossible things. Maybe I just want to convince myself it is all true, and I did not just dream it. It still seems like a nightmare, dragons, the Empire trying to kill me, it is like Nirn has turned upside down.

It all started, when? I have no idea what day it was. I was finally returning home, after so many years serving as a mercenary for the Imperials. So many years of fighting those Cyrod's petty little battles, and for what? So that damned Emperor of theirs could betray we Nords, betray Talos? What did we spill out blood for?

Ah, but that is just the tip of the horker. While crossing the mountains, I walked into something. I do not know what. There was a line of wagons carrying men. I thought it was a caravan at first, so I went to greet them. I was hoping they might have some mead or ale to trade. I have been living on melted snow and rabbits for days. The next thing I knew there was an arrow in my leg, then the pommel of an Imperial sword made a home against my head.

When I awoke, well, I was in the caravan. Only it was not a caravan at all, but a train of prisoners. The Jarl of Windhelm himself sat beside me! I remember him Pas tales about the Great War. He fought with Pa and the rest of us Nords who had taken up the axe and sword to defend the Empire from the cursed elves. Now this is how the Empire treats us in return? This is our reward for faithful service? First they take our gods from us, then our lives?

For we were bound for the headsman's axe, in the Imperial castle at Helgen. They could care less that my name was not on their filthy list, or that I was a veteran of their own service. All they wanted was Nordic heads in a basket.

They would have had them too, if not the for the dragon. Yes, I wrote that, the dragon. I saw him as they laid my own head on the block. It was black as ebony, and turned the sky the same color with but a word. Thunder and fire rained down as it spoke, and men died all around. Nothing could harm it, not steel nor spell, and it took its time knocking over the castle as if it were one of those houses of cards Da would make at the dinner table.

The rest was confusing. More confusing than any Khajiit raid or Bosmer ambush. I was able to escape along with a Stormcloak named Ralof. He had sat across from me in the wagon. I like him Ma. He is not all full of bluster like most Nord men, who try to hide their fears and doubts behind false bravado. He has nothing to prove to anyone. He is just himself. A good Nord man who fought his way through the Imperials with me, as we made our escape from man and dragon. I wonder if he has tied Mara's knot? He spoke of a girl he knew in Helgen named Vilod. But only the blood-swans live in Helgen now...

The rest seems to trivial. We made tracks from there fast. If any of the Imperials escaped, we had to put miles between us and them. As well as from the rest likely to come when they saw the smoke. It filled the sky like a harbinger of doom. We made our way to a village where his sister lives, and hid with her for the night.

Ralof told me about the rebellion, about how Ulfric challenged the High King in the old way and slew him in personal combat. That the Empire wanted him dead, because he will not bow down to the elves, and betray our good Talos. I cannot believe so much has happened since I was away. Ralof says I should go to Windhelm with him, and join the fight. I think I should.

But it has been so long, and so much has happened, I wonder if I am home at all? I think I will be coming to see you soon instead Ma. First at least. You warned me about going away to fight for the Empire, but I would not listen. Now I see what a mistake it was. How many years of my life have I wasted for those faithless cowards? You were always so much smarter than Da and me. Like he always says, I got your looks, but his thick head. Maybe you will know what I should do?

-Hrafn, in Riverwood.

*CLAPS* Oh...that's good, SubRosa. You really got me hooked.

From the journal of Hrafngoelir

Here I am again Ma. Ralof's sister asked me to go to Whiterun, to tell the Jarl about the dragon. I'd sooner kiss a horker, but she was a good host, offering me a place to stay after Ralof and I escaped from Helgen. Not that I spent the night there. There was only one bed, and she and her husband shared it. If there had been another bed, then perhaps Ralof would have…

Ma, how did you know Da was the one to tie Mara's knot with? Oh never mind. There are more important things to write with this damned goose feather.

I spent a day working with the smith, helping him in the forge. Da's lessons showed, and he was impressed with what I knew about iron and steel. His wife was less then pleased however, and I don't think I've ever seen a woman so glad to see my feet take me the other way when I left town next morning.

Ralof said that the Imperials wouldn't be looking for me. My name was not on their list, and no one was left alive who would know me. That was why I was the one to go to Whietrun. I wonder if I made the right decision, not going with him? Will I ever see him again? Or will I forever wonder what happened to that man?

Whiterun. Yes. It was a long walk north between the mountains, with only the wolves for company. But they kept their distance, and I respected their territory, so we got along just fine. On the other side of the mountains things changed. Lots of farms and even a meadery. I've never seen so many bees in my life! I was tempted to stop in for a drop, but I just wanted to get things over with, and be on my way home.

So up to the city I went. It's the only mound on the whole damn tundra. I swear Ma, I don't know how people can live there. The land is just flat and empty in all directions, and the wind never stops. No trees, no mountains, no ocean. The city itself is like big mammoth turd rising up on the plain.

The Jarl talked to me, after one of his damned huscarls drew steel against me. I thought I was going to have to kill her there in the hall, and had my axe and shield in hand. But cooler heads prevailed, and I made my report of the dragon to the bag of wind. When I told him that the Imperials tried to give me a shave, he called me a criminal, and said he did not care who the Imperials decided to execute. How can a man like that lead our people? How can a Nord look the other way when the Empire spills the blood of the sons and daughters of Skyrim?

Well, I was hoping to get myself out of there, but the damned blowhard dragged his court wizard into the mess, and the next thing I knew I was being sent on an official mission for the Hold. Finding some silly magic stone in one of the old barrows. I just nodded and said "aye". Then I remembered, Riverwood was just across the river from the barrow.

So I went back, wondering if Ralof was still there at his sister's house. He wasn't. But a wood elf named Faendal was. Normally I wouldn't have much use for a point eared bushwhacker, but he seemed a cut above most of his countrymen. He was a hard worker for one, I remembered seeing him chopping wood at the mill my first time through, and he was at it again when I walked in the village. Seems he has his eye on a certain Imperial lady in town. Trouble is so does some other fella. Sven was his name. He was tall, had muscles, blond hair, blue eyes, and rocks between his ears bigger than the mountain the barrow was sitting upon. A typical Nord man. Poor Faendal didn't stand a chance. So I helped out the wood elf, and now he has the lady all to himself.

Just to show his appreciation, Faendal lent me a hand with my own problem: Bleak Falls Barrow. I have to say, it was handy having him there. As you can imagine, he's good with a bow. Between the two of us, we dealt with everything that got in our way, be it bandits, frostbite spiders, or draugr. I am not proud of plundering a tomb of our ancestors. But we did it, and found that blasted stone. I parted ways with Faendal back in Riverwood, and headed back to Whiterun.

-Hrafn, north of Riverwood.