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A Skyrim Roleplay Adventure - Warlord Malgra's Return


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(So, I don't got the ability to record and edit sorta things, so this is kind of an experiment. This is gonna be a bit of a roleplay run-through of Skyrim with my random assortment of mods and stuff, looking to work it as a narrative adventure with most the playback coming in story written by me. Basically, a text-based LP and a story kinda rolled together based off exploits in a game.

The startup to this is simple, a Orc female that, thanks to Live Another Life, spawns in a Orc Stronghold with Orcish armor, shield, and a war axe. I'm not using any hardcore mods, but there'll be more than enough crazy stuff to do as I finally, FINALLY try to play through Skyrim to it's full completion. As a special note, this orc may or may not be related to a character that showed up in the Blackshard RPs cus I'm derpy like that. With all that said, let us commence...)

---

Blades, locked in combat, heavy strikes that spark with magic. My eyes watch from one of the warriors, as hundreds of greenskins stare from seats of the arena.

The elven warrior before me dives his blade forward, and I can feel my heart pierce. The bloodlust starts to pound as rage fills my vision and I am lost to it, the vision filling with haze before it focuses again on the broken form of my opponent. A robed figure lunges between us, a great burst of energy sending me tumbling. I land, only to see my lower torso roll away behind me without me.

Magic flows hard as the lifeforce begins to ebb, my aura slowly fading into the void. Shards of glass fly past me, ripping apart of what was left of my mortal coil before the gods take final mercy and my spirit drifts...


---

I awaken with a sputter and a start. That dream again.

Ever since I had been dragged to the fortress, half-dead from a pack of hungry sabrecats, the same nightmare had plagued my dreams. For an Orc to suffer such indignities is outright shameful, and it is every right of this great stronghold of Dushikh Yal to still consider me an outsider for finding me in such a state. However, these strange dreams- or are they visions?- that plague me make me wish to find an end to them, and I spoke to the apothecary of the stronghold for her advice.

Mulbul speaks of a mage, who has grown in years, thinking herself past such trivial concerns in the world, and who researches dreams, and divine the meaning of them. Last she had heard, she lives in a not too notable village known as Helgan somewhere to the far east of Duskikh Yal. Even better, she tells me my wounds have healed, and that I can return to wandering should I wish, though as a Bloodkin of Malacath, that I was always welcome back here and to any other fortress. Whatever that means.

The smith has awarded me some repaired armor as well, as long as I promise to bring a blade to her daughter in a village north of here named Karthwusten. It's made of some metal the Orcs here called Orichalcum. It seems weird, but it is sturdy, should help if I get into a battle with the beasts again. A nice, well-forged axe of the stuff as well, tho I much prefer a long blade or a spear. Oddly, not many of the latter around these parts.



These dreams are continuing to drive me with more and more concern. No matter what, I must reach Helgen and divine the source of these, and what they could mean.
 
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Re: A Skyrim Roleplay Adventure - Warlord Malgra's Return



There were many wolves on the road up north. They didn't last long.

It feels good to be back on my feet again, the axe proving itself as I cleave through these hungry canines. I travel across the northeastern road from the stronghold, eventually breaking from down the mountain and exploring.



There was a tower on the cliffs, but I didn't wish to investigate for now. Something about the architecture gives me the creeps.
'


Coming down the road, I find myself looking at a massive river in between all of these mountains. For some reason, I pine for empty wastes and soft, desert sands. Unfortunately, I can't just stand here and marvel, I need to keep moving.

After a few more wolves impeding my path, I consulted my map and realized I was far too east to properly reach Karthwasten. Luckily, there was a shortcut road before I reached some major city called Markarth, so I'd be able to avoid it and still reach the small settlement with little trouble.



Before reaching my fork in the road, I found myself met with a motley band of soldiers in brown and blue, with a dog following behind and one of them mounted on one of the thickest horses I've ever seen. I am more used to slender steeds, that the plainsmen of the east always used for their cavalry. One of them spoke up to me as they passed, imploring me that if I knew of any true sons and daughters of Skyrim, to send them to Windhelm and to speak to a man called Ulfric Stormcloak. He gave me a funny look when I asked him what Skyrim was. Clearly my memory has been greatly addled by these nightmares... After my visit to deliver this sword I must reach Helgen and alleviate this issue.



As I finally got to the road to the town, I found a small shack across a stone bridge. Before I could speak more, however, an arrow flew past my ear.

"THE RIFT BELONGS TO THE FORSWORN! YOUR LIFE IS FORFEIT!"

The angry fool was knocking another arrow by the time I reached him, and a great hack of my axe sent him reeling. He tried to down a red liquid of some kind to heal himself, but that distraction only let me smack him around a bit more. Credit where it's due, he was a hardy sort.

It was then that I noticed two others in similar twisted fur garb chasing another man, rushing across the bridge after having knocked him down. I ready shield and axe and meet them head on, as they swung duel blades at me, still screaming something about Forsworn and murder. Utter madmen by the sounds of it, but they were brutal fighters, nearly felling me before I buried my weapon into the final warrior's neck.

Bleeding black onto the earth, my hand seems to move by itself as I stagger in place, holding close to my wounds and seeming to radiate some form of golden glow. I marveled as my wounds began to heal, slowly mending and fixing. It took me some time, but I soon realized that I had some form of control over my aura, something I never remembered having at all before. I shook my head, my memories were still fragmented from these nightmares. Still, good to rediscover this, it could come in handy.

(*Dodododooo!* Malgra has discovered Novice Restoration Magic!)



Just as I was getting my wits back, the other man rushed over to me and before I could say much more, quickly piped up to me.

"I've been looking for you."
"...Wha-?"
"Got something I'm supposed to deliver. Your hands only."
"What? Who-"
"Let's see here..."
"Now see here!" I start to argue, before he shoves a letter into me, and like an idiot I grasp onto it in utter confusion.
"Looks like that's it. Got to go."

I'm left slack-jawed as the man rushes down the road southwest towards Markarth, leaving me utterly confused.
 
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Re: A Skyrim Roleplay Adventure - Warlord Malgra's Return

Before going too far, I took a closer look at that letter I was given...




I feel like it was meant for someone else. Still, the contents is... interesting.



Arriving finally at Karthwasten with little more issues, I found myself witnessing a most furious of confrontations. Two men were arguing about the current state of the mine, and for a moment I was worried it may come to blows, but it seemed the grizzled mercs were too concerned with squatting in place in the mine than anything else. They rubbed me the wrong way a bit, but I noticed Lash in the crowd of miners as well, focusing on my task first.



It was at this time that I delivered the sword as I had been requested to do that morning. It would appear that the sword was an instruction of banishment, quite the talent from a set of iron.

As night had slowly slid in, I decided to wander around a little around the town, doing a bit of exploration around the nearby foothills.



A short way away from the town, I actually discovered a temple of some kind here, with some random junk and a few bodies... Disturbing, considering how close the town is.
 
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Re: A Skyrim Roleplay Adventure - Warlord Malgra's Return



On the hill above the temple, I found a corpse of another of those Sabercat creatures, buried in a ravine with many arrows and a spear lodged in it's side. The skeleton of the hunter was nearby, and yet again I found my mind wandering, thoughts unbidden coming to my eyes...

---

An elven warrior, in guilded and green armor, instructs a group of greenskins, myself included. We are all armed with spears, moving in time with marching orders, moving them in practiced discipline. A hardened, trained fighting force, taught of the elvish way of the spear to take on another elven enemy...

---

Another memory I cannot seem to claim myself. These visions are growing more vivid. The spear, however, felt quite formidable in my hands, and I quickly took it. That sack of bones wasn't going to use it anyway.



I found a chair to rest in until morning, my head nodding off slightly. It wasn't proper sleep, but it would do for now. When I awoken, I found the man that had been arguing with the ruffians there, and I got the whole story from them. Apparently, there is a very influential family in Markarth, the Silver-Bloods, who sent mercenaries here after the Forsworn attack, and they won't budge and let them return to mining until the mercs back off.

I have to agree with the man, this is indeed a pretty shallow scheme to get the mine from them. I marched into the mine itself and accosted the mercenary's leader about it. Naturally, he tried to spin it another way, saying that the town would be entirely defenseless without them. I argued that there was no point in holing themselves in the mine if they were here to protect the town, and that they were unwelcome, so get lost.

"So what? What are you going to do about it, pig-skin?"



Gauntlet fist connected with the man's face before he could speak again, a sharp cracking following the blow as I spun to grab my spear after the punch connects. The other sellswords were quickly upon me, but the spear in her hand sang with purpose as it struck and swung into the messy gaggle of ruffians.

I packed some of the other junk that they carried as well, with plans to melt them down into ingots. I eyed a pickaxe laying nearby, and then some of the silver deposits. It wouldn't hurt to make use of the mine a little while I was here, would it? I would need some sort of currency anyway, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to barter some simple jewelry I could still remember forging as a child.



Apparently it would hurt. As pick broke apart fragments of ore, suddenly a large construct breaks apart as well, a whirling of dust following it as the creature burst out dust with so much force it sent me reeling. I was able to break it apart with the spear, but it was quite a battle.



Ainethach thanked me for dealing with the sellswords once I left the mine, figuring that wouldn't be the last attempt the Silver-Bloods made for it, but at least with my actions it would give them the message that it'd take a less obvious attempt at it. When I informed him of the strange stone creatures that burst from the ore veins, he gave me an odd look and stated that I should see a healer, that I may be sick.



Imaginary stone golems or not, this detour to Karthesten has put me far, far from Helgen, and the road I must travel is long indeed. I hope I can eventually reach it without too many more delays.

Malgra has received three perks during this session:
Barbarian (Rank 2) - Two-handed weapons deal 40% more damage.
Juggernaut - Heavy Armor is 20% more effective.
 
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Re: A Skyrim Roleplay Adventure - Warlord Malgra's Return



My travels through the land were rather uneventful. A few dueling mages, some more wolves and these ratlike things called Skeevers, but otherwise nothing really happened until the town of Rorickstead. With nothing really to do it seemed, I continued my walk towards the eventual destination.



Along the way, I spotted this tall fellow. I kept my distance, but his size was certainly intimidating. Not something I wish to tangle with right now.



Another thing I ran into was a group of elven figures dragging along a prisoner. A part of me felt disgusted, even angry at the figures, though I was unsure why. I would have to ask more just who these figures in robes were...



Another discovery, a fort that seems overrun with banditry. I am concerned about the state of this land. What is up with this infestation of banditry? This would never have happened in my desert- wait, what?

As night began to fall, a great, sprawling farmstead began to show in the dark before the walls of another great fortification. At first I was impressed, though that impression was soon overridden as a thunderous burst of earth rises into the sky from part of the farmland.



One of the gigantic figures I had seen prior was assaulting the farmstead, Several other warriors were already accosting it, with a woman with fiery hair snarling out orders and calls to the others fighting alongside her. Hefting my spear, I charged forth, flanking behind the beast and stabbing into it's back, catching it by surprise, granting enough time for the man and his great sword to split the creature's belly open, where it collapsed with a great crash upon some of the remaining crop. Acceptable collateral, I say.



The redheaded woman approached me as I wrestled for breath holding onto my spear, breathing hard. "You handed yourself well... You could make for a decent Shield-Sister..."
"...Shield Sister?" I asked, managing to straighten myself once my wits were with me again. "What's one of those?"
"An outsider, eh?" the woman seems to be appraising me with a wolfish grin at my confusion. "Never heard of the Companions, then? We are an order of warriors, of brothers and sisters in arms, and we show up if the coin is good enough."
Hrmph. Mercenaries, then. Still, people to learn from in this land could be an asset. "Is that so? And you really think I should seek you out?"
""Not for me to say. You'll have to talk to Kodlak Whitemane up in Jorrvaskr. The old man's got a good sense for people. He can look in your eyes and tell your worth. If you go to him, good luck."

With the foe defeated, the Companions quickly move up to the great walled city, and with the sun beginning to set, I soon follow, only momentarily distracted by the strange cat-people setting up camp outside the city walls.



Eventually, I make my way inside of it, and overhear many a thing while walking the darkening streets. Townfolk are making their way from the local taverns, tipsy and boisterous, but there is a few conversations I manage to catch as I take in this new environment. A man pesters a woman at the blacksmith's asking for blades for 'the Legion', guessing a faction who those blue-and-brown wearing figures earlier were possibly a part of.



Traveling around the upper parts of the city, I overhear a rather heated conversation echoing through the night air, even drowning out some of the drunken calls from the meaderies in the lower half of the city.

"I know your family's honor is important to you, but we can't afford it!"
"It took me weeks to find that thieves' den. I can't stop now, and I can't get the sword on my own."
"So you're willing to starve your wife and daughter to reclaim some rusty old sword?"
"I just need to hire one, maybe two good men. You won't starve."
" I'll put it plainly. You can claim your sword, or you can keep your wife. If you set foot outside the gate, I won't be here when you return."
"Saffir! Wait... I...."

A rather flustered young woman carrying a book pushes past me, nearly shoving my armored bulk into the wall in her fury. A man quickly tries to follow her, but slows and sighs, before giving me a glance. I return to him a sympathetic look and inquisitive stare.

"My Saffir doesn't like that I've been spending so much time looking for my father's old sword..." He gives a long, drawn-out sigh. "He fed his entire family with the gold he made using that weapon. I'm not about to let it gather dust in some thief's trophy room. I tracked it to a group of bandits nearby. But I'm no fool. I'd need the Whiterun guards or maybe hire the Companions to get it. I don't know why I'm saying this, but if you find it out in your travels, I'd be grateful to you."

I can tell, on one warrior's honor to another, that he deserves to have his ancestral blade back.



I made one more stop before finding a place to crash for the night, discovering a great statue set before the stairs to a great fortress above the city. It was clearly one of a great warrior, with a shrine before his feet. Truly this was a great figure to these people.



I finally was able to stumble into an inn call the Bannered Mare, right before it closed itself down for the night. I was able to negotiate a corner to sit into, before allowing my eyes to shut again...

Malgra has received another perk during this session:

Barbarian (Rank 2) - Two-handed weapons deal 40% more damage.
Champion's Stance - Two-handed weapons require 25% less stamina for Power Attacks.
Juggernaut - Heavy Armor is 20% more effective.
 
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Re: A Skyrim Roleplay Adventure - Warlord Malgra's Return

"...And who are you? You from one of the strongholds, Orc? How did you end up here?"

I stay silent, head turned away, glaring in spite at the executioner's mask I can see above the other heads of the prisoners with me.

"Captain, she's not on the list-"
The captain growls out an order. "She goes on the block too! We're wasting time!"
The soldier gives me a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry... We'll make sure your remains are returned to Orsinium..."

With a firm grip, the soldier assists me to where the other prisoners are standing, as a priest attempts to give the last rights. Another of the Stormcloaks, however, was impatient. "Oh for the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with!"

The priestess huffs a bit and walks off, even as the soldier almost mockingly sinks to his knees on the block, taunting his executioner. Unfortunately, his brash bravado gained him nothing but the heavy THUNK of the axehead as it cleaved his head from his body.

The townsfolk behind us cried out in mix of cheers and cries of horror. It almost disgusted me, as I growled in anger at the cowardly action.

"Next, the Orc!" Well, shit.

The entire assembly pauses as a sound echos from the highest peaks, a strange cry that causes a tremble down the spine in terrors thought dead and lost, not even remembered but still as real as ever.

"...What was that...?!?"
The captain unfortunately got her bravado back first. "...I SAID next prisoner!"

I gulped a little, as I'm roughly dragged over, shoved roughly to the block. I struggled slightly as the captain's boot digs into my back, though my icy glare at the executioner doesn't slow as I growl in defiance of my incoming fate.

With a mighty crash, the entire world goes into chaos. A massive black... thing crashes into the midst of the town, and even the Imperial soldiers begin to panic as they try to identify the threat.

FUS RO DAH!

A massive blast of force sends me flying back into the stone wall, groaning and limping back onto my feet despite my bound hands.

"Still alive prisoner?!? This way, hurry!" One of the voices from the cart calls for me, and with diminishing options I run for it, rushing through the door to one of the towers. It slams behind us, some of the other Stormcloaks having taken refuge in it.

"Ulfric, was that what I think it is? Was that really a dragon, like the old legends?"
"...Legends don't burn down villages..."
"We need to get out of here, up the stairs, come on!" one of them speaks up, as the group rushes up the stairs. The tower wall suddenly erupts in stone, as the scaled, spiked dragon head pierces through.
"Down! Down!" One of the stormcloaks scream, as another staggers froim the rain of stones from the broken tower.

YOL TOOR SHUL!

A great gout of flame leaves the dragon's maw as it incinerates the upper floor, so hot I can feel my skin singe and the embers whipping past my face. The poor fools who had been struck by the stones were incinerated, burned to the bone and then to ash.

The creature pulls from the hole, taking wing into the sky again, and some of them dare to glance out. "Over there! There's a safe landing into the building there! Come on orc, let's get out of here, jump!"

Steeling my nerves, I rush after the soldiers as they fall before me, a few of them tumbling onto the roof, as I rush towards a hole in the roof towards the smouldering floorboards...


---

I awaken with a strangled cry, falling from the chair I had taken refuge in. There's a few catcalls and laughs from the early morning crowd, but one of the tavern staff comes over to ensure I am fine. Saadia, I think her name was.

This was an entirely different vision, focused on what seemed to be a place in this world. Hopefully when I reach Helgen, that dreamspeaker can tell me what is going on. I am confused at just who I truly am now.
 
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Re: A Skyrim Roleplay Adventure - Warlord Malgra's Return

With a full stomach from breakfast and a much lighter pack from melting down all of the spare equipment I had gathered, I set out towards Helgen again, after being told that the easiest way from here would be from a small town named Riverwood, also part of the hold.



Along the way, I ran into this pile of broken cart pieces. Curious, I investigated, and found myself a letter detailing some sort of mine that had been overcome as a bandit hideout. I shake my head to myself, noting the location for another time. It was clear that perhaps these outlaws would be a good source of revenue thanks to bounties and all that entailed...



Finally, I arrived at Riverwood, which more or less was about five to six buildings and a lumber mill. There was a bit of a quaint charm to the place, but I had no time to think on that too hard. It was only a short pass until I reached Helgen ahead...




Along the path, I ran into these strange stones, one of which glowed when I got near. Not sure what that was all about.



As I approached Helgen, I notice the smoke billowing out of the town, and tense up, quickly running down the road as if I had some way to help the situation. The vision from this morning was starting to grow more and more in my mind, but seriously, that was just some strange dream, wasn't it?

The massive black, winged form billowing from above the town broke all semblance that it was just a dream away from me, however...
 
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Re: A Skyrim Roleplay Adventure - Warlord Malgra's Return



Stepping into the smouldering town, I discovered a corpse clutching a singed leather journal. As I reached for the journal, the body crumbled away, but the journal remained intact. I cracked it open, looking for a better explanation at what transpired...







Great, a quick and easy end to the war I keep hearing about, stopped by giant scaly fire-breathing monsters. This land pisses me off more and more the more I hear about it's political climate, and now giant-ass scaled monsters to boot.



Returning to Riverwood, it turned out I was not the only one to see the beast, as a woman raves to her clearly disbelieving son about the event.




Instead of simply validating the ranting person, I moved to the inn, seeking someone trustworthy from there. It was a bit amusing to see the apathetic inkeep getting chewed out by the venom-tongued lass, but I soon noticed the town blacksmith, who I had ran into along the way. He too had seen the great black beast, and put it in no uncertain terms that if a dragon reached Riverwood, it could flatten it easy. They needed the Yarl's support here, and he sent me back to Whiterun to gather it.



One backtrack later, and I arrive in Dragonsreach, the keep of the Yarl of Whiterun. It would appear even at this late hour a heated argument was ensuing between his retainers, an Under Elf (Er, Dumner as I've heard them refereed to here...) and some man discussing the precarious state Whiterun was in, and the rumors of dragons only adding to their woes. To say I gave them less than stellar news was a bit of an understatement.



Still, my arrival was apparently just the opportunity they were seeking out. The court wizard had been researching into the rumors of dragon resurgence already, and having a man on the field to find things related to the age-old Dragon War here could help. As a result, at the words of being granted a decent reward upon success, I was sent to go graverobbing a place called Bleak Falls Barrow looking for a Dragonstone... Could be a laugh.

I swear, between this and the guards pissing themselves at the whispers of vampire attacks, this place is getting more and more annoying with each passing day...
 
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Another backtrack later, and I was on my way up the mountain pass to Bleak Falls Barrow. Noone mentioned the small guard post full of bandits prior, but hey, more furs and iron to my forging collection.



Gave a shot with archery as well, managed to catch one of the guards in the leg... Somehow I feel like there's a pun there.



In all honesty, the inside of the barrow... wasn't that interesting. Just bandits and rats, and some strange stone-spinning puzzle... What is it with ancient places creating convoluted locks in areas noone usually goes?

At least, nothing really happened up until the walls started talking to me of course.



And then giant spiders. Fuck this world, fuck it to all the in-betweens and other planes of destructive hellish abominations! Give me the giant evil flying geckos back!

...I'm going to regret saying that, aren't I?



Turns out the voice I heard was this rather unhappy fellow, who is clearly in a bit of a pickle. He kept raving about some form of 'ancient power' relating to the place, and begged me to get him down. With a bit of a grumble, I jammed my spear through the webbing, cutting him loose.



Oh that cowardly sunofa-



And as if things weren't bad enough, now we got these petrified zombie gits kicking about. Luckily, they aren't too hard, and a good smack is enough to break them into pulp, but they are numerous and annoying in droves.



The under elf didn't get too far, having ran into one of the most damn obvious traps I've ever bloody seen before. Truly, running away in some demand of reward was your best move...



I took a glance into his diary as well. Oh great, a thief as well. Just making him even more appealing. I'll make sure this claw thing reaches the owner again.



It takes a while, dodging giant pendulums and smacking apart more of these dusty zombies, but I reach what appears to be an impasse, a massive door at what is admittedly an intimidating hallway.



...I hate puzzles. Seriously, who thinks of this crap?!?

Wait...



WHAT KIND OF BACKWARDS-ASS CIVILIZATION DOES THIS SORT OF SHIT?!?

Ok Malgra, ok, calm down. Nearly out of this place... I hope.



And admittedly, it was kinda worth it, I mean, this place does look quite peaceful... Still, if this dragonstone would be anywhere, it'd be somewhere round here...



As I step up to the stone plateau, a blue light catches my attention to the side. and I silently move towards it, spear at the ready. What sort of strange magic was I witnessing now...?

Tendrils of magic flood through me, causing me to stagger a little, and nearly black out.



I blink the darkness out of my eyes only for the words to start fading out, soon growing as inert as the rest of the stone around it. Some sort of strange word is rattling into my head, and I am unsure quite what it means... Fus? What sort of strange language is this?

A loud clatter of stone popping off of stone momentarily distracts me, as a more armored skeleton breaks from it's coffin and accosts me, bringing a sword that seems so cold it's metal seems permanently frozen. It is a difficult fight, but I eventually fell him, noticing a shield-shaped stone in the bottom of his sarcophagus. Guess this was the dragonstone they spoke of...

As if the visions weren't bad enough, now this strange magic was making me ask questions. Considering Helgen's destruction, I'm not sure where this dreemseer would be, or if she was even alive now. My personal concerns were quickly getting swept away under this strangeness with the dragons...
 
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Re: A Skyrim Roleplay Adventure - Warlord Malgra's Return



A useful little tunnel dumped me out of the southern end of the mountain Bleak Falls inhabited, allowing me a somewhat easier time headed back to Riverwood by cutting through the southern woods. I ran into this strange structure along the way, not quite sure what use it was.



Ohgoddessnothimagaingetaway-

"Ah, a letter from the Jarl! Moving up in the world, eh? Looks like that's it, got to go!"



I made sure to take a stop in the Riverwood Trader and return the dragon claw, getting showered with praise for finding it before continuing towards Whiterun. As it was getting somewhat late, I took a short sleep in the Bannered Mare before returning to the keep.



Turns out I wasn't the only one visiting Farengar today. A mysterious hooded woman was speaking to him as well, stressing about the returning dragons to him. With a bit of a smirk, I granted him the Dragonstone, which he seemed happy about at least.

"You went into Bleak Falls Barrow by yourself? Good work," the woman replied.
"...Wait, haven't I seen you somewhere befo-"
"Farengar!"



And then things went to hell.



One of Whiterun's guard towers was being attacked by a dragon. Unfortunately, my brief glance of the black one leaving Helgen was apparently enough for me to become an expert of the creatures, leading to me being sent along with Irileth and a detachment of guards in case the creature stayed to cause havoc towards Whiterun itself.



Along the way, a pair of gruff-looking mercs, who kind of reminded me of Kaliferians, were harassing the guards, than harassed me, about locating a woman. I gave them something non-committal and headed out the door. Cus, y'know, DRAGON and all that.
 
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The sight that graced my arrival at the western watchtower was not a pleasing one, to be frank. Fire, corpses, and the site of mortals getting their ass kicked was certainly not one to keep the morale of these poor sods with me up. Their capes may as well have been colored red.



Arriving at the tower didn't help matters, as one of the survivors popped out of hiding, babbling in terror about the fate of his fellows.
"Guardsman! Where is this dragon?!? Quickly now!" It was nice to hear that Irileth's voice didn't convey fear, but a bloodlust and anger that would have done any Orc proud.



Before the guard could answer, a roar echoes through the mountains, as a crimson shape begins to glide menacingly towards the tower.

"...Kynareth save us, here he comes again..."

Bows and crossbows and drawn and knocked, as the guards began to scatter behind the broken remains of the exterior wall, as the winged beast crashes down nearby, belching flames with manic glee. My own arrows flew at his snout as well, striking into his form in various points as the creature continues it's fiery assault. I could hear the beast laughing, mocking us as we fought to kill it, and my face twisted in fury. I dragged my spear out- freshly forged from this morning from the recycled offcast of the shield the orcs gifted me- and rushed the monster headfirst, diving around flames and fury before breaking into melee with him.

I had not felt more alive fighting a foe like this in a long, long time.



The beast eventually went to dive atop me, only for me to drive the speartip into his heart, causing it to flail and struggle. I heard one last set of words mumbled from his maw before his inner fire slowly died. "...D-dovakiin? Noooooo....."

Irileth was also in a bit of a celebratory mood as she and the surviving guards slid from cover. "Damn good shooting, boys! Let's make sure it's dead!"

As if in response to her words, the dragon's corpse began to smoulder and smoke, and we rushed away from it in confusion.



Energy flows from the dragon's corpse, flying straight for me, and making me stagger. Words seemed to echo in my head, the meaning lost to me. I could feel... something happen, but I had no idea what.



"...I can't believe it! You're... Dragonborn!"
"...Wha...?" I feel like I've been saying that a lot recently.

The guards were soon all arguing about whether I was this mythical Dragonborn sorta person, but I got the ghist quickly enough- a mortal able to absorb dragon souls, sucking them away, and using their powers as well. Sounded a bit strange, but hey, this land was strange.

Irileth managed to get them to calm down enough to point out someone needing to report back to the keep. Naturally, as the only person doing anything around this world...

Entering Whiterun, there is a loud echo of thunder from the mountains to the southeast. I didn't quite catch it, but it sounded like words of some kind were in it...



Turns out my suspicion was right- the 'thunder' was actually the voice of some group called the Greybeards, calling forth for a Dragonborn. So much for the dragonslaying escapades being kept low-key. Still, the Yarl was indeed pleased at the state of the dragon we slayed, naming me as a Thane of Whiterun as a result.



Apparently, this title of 'thane' also came with what they referenced as a Housecarl- a personal servant and warrior. Remembering the comment about shieldbrothers prior, I invited her to work alongside me. Better to have two blades together instead of just one.

Woo, long update. Had gotten a LOT of perks during it as well, promise they won't be as many post dumps in future, I swear! Anyway, perks are like this now:

Smithing
Basic Smithing - Opens most basic crafting, including Steel
Elvish Smithing - Opens advanced smithing technique, including Elven, Dwarven, and Chitin.
Advanced Smithing - Increases smithing technique, including Orcish, Scaled, and Steel Plate
Arcane Blacksmith - Improve enchanted Equipment.

Block
Shield Wall - Improves blocking strength by 10%.

Heavy Armor
Juggernaught (2) - Improves Heavy Armor by 40%.

Two-Handed Weapons
Barbarian (2) - Improves two-handed weapon damage by 40%.
Champion's Stance - Power attacks cost 25% less Stamina.

Archery
Overdraw (2) - Grants 60% bonus damage when standing still, 40% otherwise.

Lockpicking
Locksmith - Improves the sweet spot of all locks.
 

Tit Dang

Jungle Girl
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Re: A Skyrim Roleplay Adventure - Warlord Malgra's Return

Reminds me how I roleplayed Skyrim year ago as dunmer and described my impression to random people. Almost cried.
 
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