Saturday, April 7, 2012

Skyrim: A Journal of War - Chapter Twenty Seven - While You Were Out...

From The Saga of Matthias The Bather, Written By Sven

What with one thing and another, two months passed.  And so it was that Matthias, having completed his Dragonborn training, did wander the land seeking out more of the foul beasts.  Yet the cause behind the beasts remained unknown, yet so great was Matthias' concern for the people of Skyrim that he put their safety and the task of slaying the beasts first.  It was not until one night, and a chance encounter at the tavern in Riverwood, that the quest for knowledge would begin anew.


Delphine: Where in Talos name have you been?!  I haven't seen you for two months.
Me: I might ask you the same question.  I came here looking for you but you were never here.  So I waited, drank and  talked with Sven about my latest brave deeds - he's writing a book about me now, you know?
Delphine: Yes, I did.  Tell me - didn't you check my secret lair?
Me: ... slipped my mind.
Delphine: So you've been doing nothing but sitting here getting drunk for the last two months?
Me: Of course not!  I've only been doing that for the past two days.  That is, when I wasn't out fighting a dragon in the street.
Delphine: What?  A dragon?  Here in the streets of Riverwood?!
Me: Yeah.  So again, I ask - where were you, Ms. "Last Surviving Member Of An Ancient Fraternity of Dragon Slayers?"  Hmmmmmm?  Didn't hear the colossal roaring or feel the earth quaking in your secret underground lair?
Delphine: ... no.  Was anyone hurt?
Me: Yes, and that's why I'm drunk.  I had to raise a glass to the fallen.  And then have another glass to keep the first one company.  And after that... well....


Me: That will teach you to go setting innocent livestock on fire!
Peasant #1: That... you devoured his soul!
Me: Yes.  I did that thing.
Peasant #2: I... I... can't believe it.
Me: Yes, well I am pretty amazing.  But your town is safe and everyone is alive and now I'm free to take its' bones and forge myself another... say, speaking of forges, it's awfully quiet over there by the...

Peasant #1: The smith?  He is...
Me: Dead?  Yes.  But I didn't even see him in the fight!
Peasant #2: He was on the other side of the dragon, Thane.  He was trying to get in a blow with his hammer while you were stabbing it in the back.
Me: Oh no... the poor fool!  Now who shall teach his daughter how to forge a dagger?  Who shall protect his beloved wife?  Oh, brave Smith... your death shall not have been in vain, I swear it!  Go now and tell his wife that her husband died a hero's death in defense of his friends and that he proved himself a true Nord.
Peasant #1: Yes, Dragonborn.  We shall leave you to mourn as a hero does - alone and in peace.  Such sights are not meant for the simple folk you protect.
Me: Indeed.  Indeed.  I thank you, my friends...  Go.  Go!  Howl!  Howl!
Are they gone yet?

Me: Sorry, old man... but you won't need pants or the key to your armory in the afterlife.  But your loss is the fish's gain.  Now, to ease my grief as I forge your ebony collection into a new soul-drinking sword.


Delphine: I see now why you are three sheets to the wind.
Me: Yes, but I'm over it now.  I won't be able to look at another drink for weeks.
Delphine: Too bad.  Because we finally found a way to get you into the Thalmor Embassy.... just in time for their annual wine festival.
Me: Elvish wine?  Bleccccch.

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