Oh, the Headless Horseman. A few days back, I was playing as Nord Stark when I saw it and tried to shoot it - didn't work - but when it got close, there was a "Talk" option. It got away before I could, and well, I chased the damn thing all the way around Whiterun (This is after chasing a deer in the opposite direction for longer and spending sixty arrows in the process. I gotta learn to let them go), and when I finally got to the thing, the "Talk" option came up, I pressed A... It didn't say anything.

In hindsight, the lack of a head should've made it clear it couldn't actually talk.

I felt kinda stupid after that.

 

I named my guy Ferrovax.

 

Sorry guys, not an update.

Apparently, a bug currently makes it impossible to marry Lydia, so I'll probably be going with Ysolda of Whiterun.

True Love (but sex first) for Spiderorc!

 

http://elderscrolls.wikia.com/wiki/Lydia

 

Already went ahead with Ysolda (I wanted to avoid going into the command console if I could avoid it).

It worked out better than I'd hoped.

 

So, that headless horseman guy? Found out what his story was.

Spoiler

I found him running on the road from Whiterun to Solitude, followed him for about five minutes(Conditioning perk+420 stamina ftw). He takes you to Havmir's Rest, which is near Dustman's Cairn, where he possesses a Draugr. It doesn't drop anything interesting, just some gold and an ancient war-axe.

Not all that interesting really.

 

a moment in my story...

Lydia stayed close behind me as we skimmed through the grass, trying to remain unnoticed. The crushing sounds of the white river could be heard nearby. I see a tower in the distance by the road that supports a bridge to the other side of the river.
"Wait here" I tell Lydia. "Let me see what we're dealing with."
"Yes my thane," she replies. A loyal companion. She came to me so long ago searching to help the dragonborn...me. Her entire life spent in training for such a thing. I didn't want her at first, she seemed too weak. She slowed me down, but now she knows my tactics...my skills. And here we are, weeks after I've slain the threat of Alduin the dragon and she stays with me. 'There's still a war to be fought' she said to me after I felled the beast. 'Wherever you go I will follow...if you'll allow.'

I decided to side with Stormcrow and his rebels before the fall of Alduin, so we began our journey to Windelm to serve. Though, as I count two guards outside the entrance to the tower, one walking across the bridge away from me, and one on top of the other tower across the river, I realize that we would have to travel a long way back to avoid these men. Besides, they're imperials and I hate imperials...which is another story. I make my decision and I raise my bow at one of the two guarding the entrance. I fire the shot and it strikes him dead immediately, and as his partner turns toward me he is taken down as well. Two perfectly aimed shots, that's how I survive. Nothing fancy...I've never dealt with magic before, besides healing, so I have to be sharp. I've gotten so talented with a bow that it seems as if time simply just slows down. Anyway, don't let your mind wander. There's still two guards in...

"Hey! Stop!" yells the guard walking the bridge. Lydia had come and just bolted right by me. "I told you to wait!" "And let you have all the fun?" she replied. I charged in after her and climbed the stairs to see her fighting the guard. She can handle herself, so I climb quickly to the top of the tower to take out the last...oh shit. There was another in the other tower and both are already halfway to us on the bridge. Lydia will be overwhelmed! I aim sharp and strong with my bow and I hit one. He takes it, but survives. The second ends his life. I'm too late for the final guard so I bring out my katana and drop down to the bridge below. Lydia has killed one already and is now in a sword fight with the last...I think I'll steal her glory since she didn't stay put. I shove my blade through the guards' back and he falls.

"I'm sorry, but you always get to kill them while I wait,"Lydia complains. Loyal...yet still with much to learn.

 

Dyrim's Log, 30th Sun's Dusk.

So today, two weird things happened to me. After I unfortunately lost Mrs. Azura-worshipper-with-difficult-to-pronounce-name, (literally lost. I have no idea where she went) I decided to continue the fight against the rebels myself. Though her spells were greatly appreciated, I feel I have the prowess to go ahead alone. And today I proved that. Tasked with the rescue of captured men and taking Fort Kastav from the Stormcloaks, this would mean a great victory for the Empire. It would finally eliminate the last bastion of defense between us and Windhelm.

Of course, I was eager to begin. So eager, the trip seemed to pass in seconds. Since I'd been to the Fort before, I traveled quickly. Unfortunately, my route passed through the north side of Winterhold, and my troops were with Hadvar to the south. I arrived, sword in hand and magic in the other, ready to join the battle but as as soon as I got near the gates, a cohort of about forty stormcloaks practically materialized out of the fort. All forty were heavily armed and ready to fight. I knew that my reinforcements would be too late, and though I am a powerful mage, forty men might prove to be my match.

But panic was, by now, not an option. Veteran of countless so-called hopeless battles, I quickly sheathed my sword. This would require all of my destructive energy, the enchanted glass would be irrelevant here. Just before the first arrows reached me, I called into being a great storm. Using both hands, I charged the spell with immense power. The storm is volatile, and can strike anyone on the battlefield. I hadn't wanted to use it on my allies, but it was now the perfect time. The storm immediately claimed lives. One bolt of lightening caught an archer in the chest and burned him alive, while another threw a close pursuer ten meters past me.

I then readied a second spell, an Icy ball of force that would both blow any foes to the ground and cause them to seize up from the cold. The Ice was timed perfectly, striking every close pursuer and some ranged troops as well. For the finale, exploding fireballs flew from my fingers, felling troops in gouts of flame. The melee fighters who came at me died in twos and threes, whereas slow-moving archers died in groups of four and five.

When the elemental tempest had finished, Fort Kastav was a wasteland. Great lines of ice marked the ground, along with small craters from the fireballs and the storm. And all along the path to the fort, dozens of Stormcloak bodies, all dead. And I, in my thin robes and slight frame, totally unharmed.

The power of mages is truly frightening to behold. But sometimes, it pales in comparison to organised armed forces. Only just later that day after the victory at fort Kastav, I had just reported in to General Tullius in Solitude when an Elder dragon swooped in from the sky. This was only the second Elder dragon I'd seen, the first having almost killed me several times over, and draining my entire stock of health potions while I ran.

But this dragon had not counted on the guard defending Solitude. By foolishly attacking me in the middle of Castle Dour, this dragon enraged not only a dozen city guards but also a dozen of the Empire's finest. Twenty Five bows in one phalanx fired at this dragon. My own thunderbolts were puny in comparison. I think that I did maybe a quarter of the damage that these soldiers did. Certainly they brought it to the ground and finished it off.

So at the end of one day, I was both awed at the power of the lion against the skeevers, but also of the power of the skeevers against the lion. Though whatever the philosophical result, the economic result of all these dead enemies has been very good for this argonian. Very good indeed. Enough to finally get me to 100,000 septims good. Time for a party at Breezehome!

 

Very minor spoilers for Dresden Files Book 7 - Dead Beat.

Kumori's Log

Day 1 - Falkreath

I sit here in the small, rustic town of Falkreath, attempting to make sense of what has happened to me. It has been a long day.

All I can say is that something went wrong with the Darkhallow. I can't say what, but I suspect Dresden had something to do with it. I wish he had listened. If he could have been convinced, Dresden would have made a fine ally. But no matter. Dresden no longer concerns me. The backlash of energy has somehow thrown me into another world – alone. So far as I can tell, my master Cowl has not come through the portal with me. I know not where I am. It is a land called Skyrim, but is most certainly not part of Earth. Nor is the Nevernever accessible from this place – I tried as soon as I escaped the dragon.

That's right – a dragon. Thankfully, not one of Ferrovax's kin, for it is doubtful I would have survived an attack by such a being. No, this was a creature of myth and legend – a genuine flying lizard capable of breathing fire.

It's arrival was fortuitous - solving some misunderstanding with the locals – but I found myself unable to do anything but flee. Do not mistake me, I am a wizard. I am capable of performing several evocations of some power. But of the two of us, Cowl was always the one most capable of applying brute force. My talents have always bent towards more subtle skills.

And so I fled, thoughts of how Cowl would have brought the dragon down at the forefront of my mind. As I ran, I found a dead man wearing robes. Something about them was odd, and I extended my senses towards them, to find that they were enchanted to increase the power of the wearer's magic. Impressed by such spells, I admit that I took the robes from the man. He no longer needed them.

After escaping the village, a fellow refugee recommended that I go to a town named Riverwood. I ignored him. I have no intention of meddling further with dragons, nor of becoming involved in the civil war which apparently ravages this land. My immediate concern is to find my bearings and to find a way home.

I took the road in the opposite direction to Riverwood, wishing to put as much distance between myself and those foolish enough to search out dragons as possible. As I walked the quiet path, I took stock of my surroundings, and myself.

The magic of this land is similar to that of Earth, but slightly different. My spells work, but it will take some time to become accustomed to the magic of this place. I was surprised, upon summoning the spirit of a wolf to protect me, to see it disappear after just a minute. Magic here seems less responsive. I can only hope that the extra effort and practice I will be putting into my magic will pay dividends upon my return to Earth. For now, I shall be careful in the application of my skills, limiting myself to magic that I know works in this world, except at the most dire need.

I made it to the town of Falkreath with little trouble. A bandit tried to accost me on the road, but my spirit companion made short work of him. By the time I found a place to stay it was dark. I paid for a room and here I am, trying to think what to do next. My most pressing concern is that of money. I cannot survive on magic alone. I shall have to find some way to acquire gold tomorrow. For now, I shall rest.

Day 3 – Riverwood

I have managed to procure work – and this assure my future basic needs will be met – as something of a mercenary. It is dirty work, I admit. I would not have thought I would be brought so low. But I must do what is necessary to survive and return to Earth.

After that first night in Falkreath I visited the longhouse at the centre of the town, where the “Jarl” - the leader of these primitive people – resides. His steward hired me to “clear out” some bandits from a nearby mine. After talking with the detestable Jarl – who wanted to send me halfway across the world, just to fetch him some mead, the idiot – I took up the Steward's offer. Bandits armed with bows and arrows present minimal worry for a trained – and importantly, a prepared – wizard. I stocked up on supplies and headed north-east to the mines.

Along the way I discovered some ancient standing stones, one of which glowed with a blue light when I touched it. This land is filled with many strange things. Appart from some wild dogs, the first sign of trouble was a guard outside of the mine entrance. I sent my spirit companion forward and forced myself to watch as the ethereal wolf gored him. The bandit had scratched me with an arrow, but it was a simple matter to heal the wound – I have always had a talent for healing magic.

The mine was dark, lit with just a few torches. It was a simple matter to find the bandits and dispose of them, allowing my spirit companion to do the “dirty work”. I was only forced to intervene once. A man had come past the wolf while it dealt with another, and was advancing upon me with a battered but sharp-looking sword. I drew upon my power, focused my will, and called upon fire. The man fell after just a few moments under the force of my magic.

I looted the bandits for everything they had, and headed back to Falkreath. It was morning by the time I got back, weary from my travels but thinking of the gold that was waiting for me. This land was cold, and I had my eye on a certain robe in one of Falkreath's shops. Unfortunately, the reward was less than I had hoped – a paltry 100 gold coins. The robe was 1600. Still, after selling what I had looted from the bandits' cooling bodies, I had amassed enough gold to ensure my immediate safety. Since it was already morning, and I did not wish to sleep during the day, I decided to leave Falkreath behind and head back towards civilisation. I had found a spell-book in one of the town's shops, and it alerted me to the existence of wizards in this world. If I could find them, perhaps they would be able to aid me in my quest to return home.

So I set off for the town of Riverwood, though I had sworn to avoid it. I would have to be careful not to run into the insane dragon-seekers.



Coming soon: Day 4 - Riverwood. That'll catch me up to where I am at the moment. I'll try to take screenshots from now on, so future logs can have a visual aspect.

 

Not my story, but a Rock Paper Shotgun article involving Lydia and death. I felt it was appropriate.

We will mourn.

 

There's something quite unsettling about being charged by a violent ghost screaming it doesn't want to hurt me, but has no choice. Going to go back shortly and see what it was all about, which may make up another entry. I did beat the ghost, and his friends, but I promptly got roasted by a dragon. Such is life.

 

Wait 'till he finds the Dead Thrall spell.

 

DOVAHKIIN LOG PART 32

Today, I have walked the trail through the awful gales and storms and hail of The Throat of The World. I have been denied and cast out by The Greybeards for my dealings with the Blades and lack of adherence to The Way of The Voice. I have felt the world shake beneath my feet as one Shouted in my defense and I learned an incredibly powerful Three-Word Shout just to clear the weather enough to make it possible to visit with their master. To say that I have seen a lot today is an understatement.

So when I say that this is the weirdest fucking thing I've seen in my entire goddamn life, it means something.



Yes. That's right. It's a fucking goat. A goat, here at the Throat Of The World's peak. Did I mention that I had to learn a fucking Shout to get here? I...I think I've figured out what the Greybeards are doing with all their free time up here.

 

Today the stormcrow rebels overthrew the Imperials. I personally decapitated the general and brutally butchered his soldiers. Tomorrow, I go after that dragon at the throat of the world.

 

Nothing can top this one.
/thread.