Fredas, 22th of Last Seed, 4 E 201
LVL 4
Upon waking inside the warmth of the mine, I ate a hearty meal of more roast goat and my fill of tomatoes. Stepping out into the fresh morning light, I knew beyond a doubt it would be a good day.
I secured the gates behind me and feeling I have more than sated my bloodlust for now, opted out of hitting the next bandit camp. Instead, I headed for Falkreath to report directly to Jarl Siddgeir.
Halfway to Falkreath (and close to Knifepoint Ridge) I heard the sounds of battle. Moving carefully, bow drawn and arrow notched, I saw a ridiculously badass warhorse stomp a bandit into the dirt.
Three more lay dead nearby along with the body of yet another merchant (human). These were clearly the same depraved brigands who had gutted the Khajiit merchant and his horse a day ago.
Searching the bodies for arrows and gold, I decided it was my duty to carry out the bounty and mass-murder them all (particularly the leader, since his head is what would pay the bounty). From the merchant I took some charcoal, ectoplasm and salt (presumably bagged since he was carrying them), 3 pieces of iron ore (for the blacksmith back Falkreath way), juniper berries (which I immediately ate because YUM), lockpicks, garlic and a rock warbler egg.
I wished I had something to heal the horse’s wounds, but reasoned proper vengeance would be sweeter than any tonic (not really), so I rode the baddass horse right up to the bandit keep and laid siege.
On horseback, we two took down two bandits with hoof and sword. I then dismounted, leaving my Horse of Badassery to feast on the corpses of the fallen.
Horse of Badassery: He will fucking eat you!
Next, I went to play a game of archery with a pair of bow-women, winning with a double headshot: 2-0!
Women, always complaining about migrains…oh.
Moving deeper into the camp, I slayed a bandit in his sleep with another arrow through the ol’mug, then facing down a witch by way of electrocution and claiming her staff of frost — all in a matter of seconds. With Hircine guiding my hand, I am truly invincible!
I paused to heal my minor wounds and pull free a silver amulet one of the bandits surely stole while enjoying a tart snowberry I got off the witch. As I healed, I felt my ability in Restoration significantly increase. I am growing with each kill, I can feel it!
After rampaging my way through two more bandits, I came to the entrance to another mine, this one guarded by a Dunmer mage. We traded shock spells until he yielded and tried to flee. I repaid his pleas with a sword through the back (HEY, that spell freaking HURT!). Before heading in, I took a moment to recover (healing potion). I then took stock of the camp (gold, sellable potions, a few potatos for rainy days, frost miriam for seasoning and the book “Vernaccus and Bourlor). Now I am about to head inside. Praise Hircine!
***
The bandit leader proved no match for me. I hit him with two arrows, then as he closed, I unleashed fire. He got a single good swing in that managed to staggered me. Only slightly wounded, I roared my most fearsome Battle Cry yet and he turned to flee, bumping into a pole in his haste. Cornered, he burned alive like an radroach. In my mercy, I executed him with my sword straight down through his spine while he flamed on his knees.
PRAISE HIRCINE!
This mine contained some already unearthed iron ore near some still-buried corpses. The bodies are likely some of this band’s first victims. N’wahs.
I collected some gold, a gem, the slain leader’s banded iron shield for trophy, and a spell tomb of Courage. I am most excited to add this newest spell to my repertoire as soon as I have a moment to read.
After snapping several picks trying to force the lock on a prison cell, I found the body of an Imperial — worked to death mining ore.
A little hard work never killed anybod — dammit!
The world is better without those reavers.
I am clearly a hero and a legend.
Emerging outside, I found the Steed of Badassery had moved on to other hunting grounds. “Hircine be with you, my equine equal,” I somberly intoned, and turned my gaze southeast once more – to Falkreath and my rich rewards.
***
No sooner had I finished jotting down the last entry than I saw a pair of bandits attacking a mage off in the distance. Perhaps a raiding party returning to Knifepoint Ridge?
Hurry as I might, I was too late; by the time I got to the fight, only the brigands remained standing. I hit them with a few arrows before shouldering the bow and turning my magic on them, burning both down into the ground.
I had no time to celebrate however, as an enemy arrow flew inches from my head from out of the forest. I drew my own bow but could not spot the attacker.
Another arrow flew out from the trees, nearly striking me.
Curses!
I ran parallel to the arrow’s origin and crouched behind some rocks, soon seeing the archer. We traded shots back and forth until he fell to his knees – defeated. I approached and stood over him, looking from the bandit to the arrow-riddled body of the slain mage.
I walked away from the bandit, leaving only a single arrow in the back of the murderer’s head.
My swaggering walk of extreme epicness through the forest was soon interrupted by a spriggan as I neared a place my map described as ‘Evergreen Grove’. I did not bother to fight the creature, remembering the dream of my demise at the hands of such a beast. Instead I fled, a swarm of stinging, burrowing insects nearly overtaking me until, in desperation, I leaped from a cliff. I landed near a necromancer, interrupting his ritual. I had no time to apologize however, as I continued my sprint, stopping only when I could run no longer. Heaving myself against a tree, I chugged a healing potion and cast a quick spell to expel the foul critters from my flesh before continuing my run.
Spotting the road, I burst through the trees and stumbled the last few steps into Falkreath, just as nightfall set in and the town’s signature rain began to fall.
I walked, heaving and exhausted into Solaf’s store and unloaded my loot of various gems, trinkets, potions, the staff of frost and all but 10 lockpicks (who need more than ten?). By way of barter, I bought the spellbook: Fury. Soon I shall become more powerful than you can imagine!
I then went straight to Siddgeir, showing off my trophies of the dead bandit leaders. The young Jarl was so grateful, he not only gave me a GENEROUS purse of gold but also granted me permission to buy land in Falkreath Hold. After speaking to the Jarl’s stewart, the High Elf Nenya (why in Oblivion does Sidgeir tolerate an Altmer!?) I found, not to much surprise, that to buy property cost considerably more gold than I had to spare.
The shops now all closed for the night, I headed over to Dead Man’s Drink for a hearty meal of horker loaf, eidar cheese, and a sweetroll, along with an expensive vintage of black-briar mead (I want to know what all that fuss was about). Valga gave me another bounty for some bandits in a place called Embershard (a place a little too close to Helgan for comfort) while Narri greeted me with her usual zeal (missed her!). I sat down to eat, write this entry and study the spellbooks of Fury and Courage.
***
Not so sure about Fury just yet, but the meal was delicious, and I soon set about talking to the townfolk and practicing Courage, which they all seemed to enjoy. I might have gotten a bit more toasted off that fine mead than I originally thought, for the next thing I knew, I was agreeing to helping old Thadgeir deliver his buddy’s ashes to the bulbous Altmeri priest. I sobered up right quick when I stepped back out into the rain but by then I was already committed, carrying the little urn all the way down into the hut by the cemetery.
Runil the High Elf took the ashes, but before I could make my escape, he astonished me with a gift of 250 gold “for my trouble”. Maybe not all Altmer are so bad?
Nice-elf Runil, friendliest elephant man around.
Maybe. Spreading a little of the Emperor’s gold around certainly doesn’t hurt. Apparently old Runil has been hitting some of the black-briar mead himself, because between long sips, he told me of his atrocities during the Great War. He also asked me to retrieve his old journal (filled with the details of his war crimes?) in a cave he was exploring – Moss Mother Cavern, promising to pay me for my trouble. I replied that I would look if I ever went that way: The more dirt you have on people, the better.
Back at the inn, Mathias gave me a hat of his by way of pauper gift. I guess its the best he can do, considering I avenged the murder of his child. But hey, at least I really feel like my understanding of Illusion has really increased thanks to that Courage spell!
Thats when my buzz was ruined by an old guy named Dengeir’s babbling. Apparently he used to be Jarl and was persuaded to ‘resign’ after he sided with the Bluecloaks. Serves him right.
Feeling like I’d had enough for one day, I paid Valga for my usual room and went straight to sleep.