Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Wednesday Roundup: Creepy Vampire Buffet and Hooked on Dragonphonics: Shouts to make love to.

So Tuesday turned into Wednesday.  Wow, that's like, deep man.  All philosophical and shit, and in no way copping out for being a day late.

SO!  When we left off, we were having a hand-shandy.  No wait, before that.  Oh yeah.  Creepy undead girl (SPERLERZ!!1!1one!) found in a stone coffin, in a cave, with an Elder Scroll.  Well then.  She sounds nice enough, AND is currently not attempting to feast on my precious red stuff; so I guess I COULD hear her out a bit before I proceed to punch her.  And I don't mean that because she's a girl.  Make no mistake; the second you become one of the undead, you are fair game ladies.  No matter HOW HOT you are. I'll tune you up like you was Tina and I was Ike.  (Too soon?)

Anywho; back to our onions; currently the girl is all "HEY WAIT HEAR ME OUT!" and shit.  Except all I'm hearing actually is stuff making hella-noise in the background.  Whatever mechanism that decided it was imperative sticking me in the hand, also felt necessary to activate Dimhollow cave's defenses.  I.E. GARGOYLES!

Ge'ek Outt vs. Goliath

Gargoyles are TOUGH.  These guys are fasty-fast, and pretty brawny.  Thankfully right now there isn't that many of them.  Half the statues left remain as decoration, despite me punching them for good measure.

Greatest magic trick ever: "And now I'll pull my own skeleton out of a hat!"

I was pretty surprised to see this guy pop out from behind a pillar; I thought Serana had died and her skeleton was exacting its vengeance upon its captors.  Turns out Serana can animate the dead.  Or in this skeleton's case, the recently re-dead.  Kind of a letdown, considering pulling out your own skeleton and being just this floopy mass of skin and muscles while your skeleton does vaudville antics would have you 10-deep 24/7 mad puss-cray-cray z-dawg.

Well it would.  Don't hate.

So some more skeletons show up, and then some Draugr BRO COME AT ME BRO shows up too, because he is totes a DEATH OVERLORD.  Compensating, much?

I came at you bro.  Stand the fuck up.

Yeah Draugr at this point aren't especially tough.  Even that guy, who can use Shouts! (OMGHAX0R!!1!) they kind of have a glass jaw; all talk no walk.  And we move on.

Cut to: Exterior - Canada.  Present day.

Serana, a vampire, doesn't like the outside.  Understandable!  I'm a Nord and I don't like the outside either.  Its cold, and wet, and there are spriggans about.  I'd rather be inside, eating cheese and drinking mead.  Or sleeping.  Serana really wants me to take her back to her home, a castle located out in some fjord in the northwest, where her entire ancient vampire family resides.  She's promised cookies!  Whatever.  She said she'd make it worth my while.  Sure thing, lady.

Distinct lack of caves.  0/10, would not read again.

So this bear decides to jump us before we get to the little rowboat leading to the island.  I really don't know what his deal was, other than for being a cave bear, there was a clear lack of caves nearby.  Maybe he was a hobo-bear, in dire search for a place to call home.  Or salmon.  A dead bear later, we're off to the castle in the lake!  I feel like Tintin.  I hope I fight a gorilla!


Seriously.  Bethesda. What. Stahp.  I am the last person on earth who should have legal guardianship of a plant, let alone a child or two.  Maybe when the threat of total annihilation dies down.  Maybe.  Castle-crashin' time.


Ominous, fog-covered, dirty.  THE PERFECT STORM FOR VAMPIRES.  Lets hope the inside is at least better decorated.  Or guarded.

"Sir, your good-for-nothing spoiled daughter has decided it was time to come home finally." "Release the hounds."

Vampire-Butler is pretty imposing; he's all in my face ready to curbstomp until Serana puts a stop to it.  Clearly because she values his friendship, and doesn't want me to turn him into dust.  Vampire dust.  I have like 20 keys' worth of it in my backpack already.  WHITE-ON-WHITE MAYBACH THU'UM IN MY-YAY-YO. RAW$$.

Worst. Buffet. Ever.

I've seen some bad buffet spreads in my time; some sorry-ass chinese buffets with the weakest attempt at General Tso east of the Mississip'.  A Shoney's in Montgomery AL who's salad bar was 5 kinds of same mashed potatoes.  But these dudes take the cake.  They even refer to their LIVE FOOD as cattle.  That's some Blade 2 Guillermo Del Toro shit. (Obligatory Marty-bait. Bababooey bababooey start up your blog again.)
The power... to be FABULOUS!  HAAAAAAAAY!

If I didn't know better, I'd say this vampire was hitting on me.  But he just wants my precious redstuff.  I need that for livings and whatnot.  I politely decline (There's actual perks and stuff to being a vampire/werewolf now in-game.  I am just forbidden from partaking because of my BLOODOATH with fellow blogger Siskoid.)  Plus vampires are lame.  Mummies are in again.  DIE HARD JAKAL FAN #1.

So, Harkon tells me since I've rebuffed his advances, he'll let me live THIS TIME.  And teleports me out of his castle.

And directly below a dragon.

WELL Vampires are trollin' ass dicks; further confirmation anyways.  I add YET ANOTHER dragon soul to my collection, and consider to wiki a list of the available shouts or something because this is getting silly.  I got like 4 unused souls swimming around right now.  Its like some L. Ron Hubbard level nonsense.  I keep looking up to see a golden DC-8 fly by, filled with weirdos 'bout to read Dianetics.  Back to Dawnguard keep!


Cheeky buggers!  Attacking the very keep!  They got guts, I'll give'em that.  Now they're all over the road.  Their guts, that is.  Haw haw.  Isran isn't too pleased with me, what with I discovered an ancient powerful vampire, didn't kill it, and bring back the Elder Scroll it owned.  Sucks, I know.  So sue me for being a nice guy.  To 'redeem' myself to him, he needs me to go recruit some folks.  FINE.  Whatever.  First: Sorine.  She's the kinda gal who gets kinky for ancient dwarven artifacts and stuff.

"I'm here to recruit you." "No." "Please." "OK!"

That wasn't too hard.  All she wanted me to do is find her backpack, that was stolen by a mudcrab.  Because inside it was a dwemer cog, an old-ass dwarven knickknack that she wants to study.

"I simply cannot leave without one, at the very least!  Oh would you find my belongings for me?"
HERE.  GO BEFORE I MURDER Y--What's that over there.

My Dragon-Sense is tingling!
By time I get to the damn thing, there were like 5 of those guys around to help out.

Elemental Fury shout; GREAT if you wield a weapon, or TWO weapons.  UTTER SHIT if you're unarmed.  Sadness.  OH WELL OFF TO GET A DUDE.  Gunmar!  The man supposedly hangs out with animals a lot, and might even have a Grizzly Adams thing going on with some trolls.  Gross.

Your mom's cottage.

For some reason, Gunmar is in this cave to kill that bear.  I think he just wants an excuse to poach it.  However, WHY is there a troll in there too.  And why did it look like that Troll and that Bear were gettin it on...  Oh god.  I know where Owlbears come from now.

I bring Gunmar back to the keep, where Isran raves about how we gotta step up our game.  Bring the fight to the streets.  The vampire streets!  I feel like Michael McDonald in a Kenny Loggins video.  Slightly out of place, but the guy really wants me to be there, so OK.  First though, I need new vampire-fighting clothes.  The Dawnguard armor isn't quite as good as my Hobo-duds, but they have an added bonus if I'm wearing a full set: increased damage reduction and protection from Vampire spells.


What's that? ...Ge'ek Outt is evolving!
Heavy Metal, baby!

Swanky duds!  That extra 25% Damage Reduction against dicks (Vampires) feels GOOOOOOD.

"This is the 'guest' room." "So I'm a guest?" "No."

Aparently its -MY- fault Serana's here.  Like she just follows me around like a puppy or some shit, and Isran is all "NO.  IT WILL POOP EVERYWHERE." He's probably right, I mean vampires right?  Who knows where they'll poop.  Or if they poop at all.  If your diet consists only of redstuff, do you even digest it like food?  Wouldn't it just be pee?  If you're undead, does your digestive system even work at all?  Why am I interested in vampire butts?

Who knows!  Maybe we'll find out NEXT TIME!  BWAH BWAH BWAAAAHN ♫

Monday, January 28, 2013

Monday quickie, you cheeky monkeys!


Quick post today before actual post up sometime later today/tomorrow.

I've been looking at the keywords used to search for / get to my blog, and here are some of the more funny ones:

  • skyrim trunk
  • biggest spider in michigan (?)
  • biggest spider in the world real (THIS GUY)
  • dragonshout penis
  • horny skyrim
  • dessicated corpse skyrim
  • all girl zz topcover band

My favorite is the dragonshout penis.  Because FUS RO DICK! is pretty amazing to think about.  
SO: for my adoring fans (NOT THIS GUY) I give you what your horny dragonshouting dicks WANT:

"...oh Talos, I'm about to thu'um!"

Don't let nobody say I don't deliver the goods!

Saturday, January 26, 2013

Back with a vengeance; like a bad case of the clap. Or Huns.

Greetings, intrepid followers!

We're back in business here, at DragonPunch Co. after an unplanned hiatus following a planned one over the Christmas holidays.  I was away from my gaming station over the yuletide season, and then followed some of those fabled RL events which involve my mundane workjob-thing that allows me to afford the finer things in life, like electricity, baloney, and shotgun shells.  Don't judge.

Anywho; for the new year, I asked my good buddy ol' pal Siskoid where I should head off next on my adventure, in the coming new year here.  Here is the excerpt:

6. Where should I go next in Skyrim? Do I go punch vampires, join the rebellion, or do I deal with Delphine's nonsense?
I don't know ANYTHING about Skyrim except what I read on your blog, but I'll say join the rebellion. I don't know what you're rebelling against, but it sound the most character-driven. However, if the vampires shimmer in the sunlight, please feel free to punch the hell out of them.

So; under the suggestion of Sir Oid of Sisk, I went about joining the Stormcloak rebellion.  Or at least, that was my initial intention, with the recent playtime I logged.  (4 hours, roughly 95 screenshot.  Woo lawdy.)

See, Skyrim takes place roughly 2 centuries after the events of Oblivion; while the 'Empire' in Cyrodiil still exists, it's been taken over by the Aldmeri, aka the High Elves.  Elves are dicks.  This isn't news, but I'd like to still point it out.  Now the Empire have been busy and sweeping into Skyrim's southern holds.  This has ostensibly pissed off a bunch of Jarls; notably Ulfric Stormcloak.  Who went and shouted the shit out of Torygg High-King of Skyrim.  Right till he died of yells.  Badass.

The Empire are dicks, and want to steamroll over Skyrim, installing their plutocracy everywhere.  Meanwhile, Ulfric wants to keep Skyrim for the Nords.  And the Nords only.  He's slightly more tolerant of non-Nord Skyrimmians (sp?) but barely so.  Its a really deep and cutting moral choice, playing AS a Nord, that do I want to go with the bureaucrats who'll monetize everything and destroy my culture and history; -or- side with a dude who wishes to preserve the Nord way of life at ANY COST.

Gonna go join da Stormcloaks!  WOOOOOOO!

Logging back into the game since right before Christmas break, I sunk a few more gold coins into my house. Y'know like any other good home-owner.  Here's a shot of my armory!  I decided to decorate a bit, to make it badass.

The 'Bear' Necessities

Lookin' sharp, lookin' sharp.  I've also build a downstairs guest room, which turns out isn't a guest room at all; it's a children's room.  This game will allow me to have kids.  Kids.  CHILDREN.  Holy shit.  That might be one hell of a spin-off for this blog right there.

Anyways, so I go about decorating the kids' room, because Fancy!

Safe for all ages!  Also glitches!

Don't mind me; just duct-taping weapons to the wall of my future sons' room, because I am the awesomest future-dad ever, and whatnot.  What'd you think about it, Lyd--


Oh.  ...oh.  Well maybe when my fictional children will be older, then.  Now, onto business.  Joining the Stormcloak rebellion!  I head on over to Riften, as there's a rebel camp nearby.  Exiting the town, I stumble upon these guys, just hanging around.

Just a band of catpeople, selling drugs, in the nearby wilderness.  Seems legit.

Y'know, I've been meaning to get high off my tits on Moonsugar and Skooma for no reason; might as well support the local economy!  An absurd amount of drugs later, I head on my way, wondering when this stuff will kick in.

Is that man... glowing?

Turns out this guy thus labeled as Vigilant, is a Vigilant of Stendarr, the God of Mercy.  And also the guy who tells his Vigilants to fuck up daedra, daedraspawn, and any other aberration that might wander around at night.  Y'know, like frankensteins, golems, homunculii, manimals, bi-beasts, or even a rare and dreaded Wendersnaven.  But right now he's takin' it to the streets on these wolves.  Well I think they're wolves.  That dude's glowing, and I'm pretty high right now.  He tells me there's vampires around, and that he just killed one.  All I see is three wolf corpses.  I -KNOW- I'm high right now, so I tell him "Talos guide you!" because I'm about to have a bad trip, and wander off.


OMG OMG OMG BUTTERFLYYYYYYYYYY.  I start chasing after him, because his name is Gilbert, and we are now the bestest of friends.  I scamper around Riften's heavily wooded area chasing Gilbert for what feels like hours, until I see someone up ahead, and then this happens:


Butterflies are quite flammable.  And weak against fire.  Like fire will kill them--weak.  So this elf (who is a dick) just killed my bestie, and attacked me without provocation.  Y'know, the guy traipsing around the woods, stoned out of his gourd on moon sugar and skooma.  What could possibly happen?


Teach YOU to killmurder my friend like that.  I'll never replace you, Gilbert.  You were my rock; my anchor;  my everyth--


I will love you and pet you and call you George.  Come here George!  George scampers off because I don't blame him.  If I came running towards myself, I'd be scared too.  He kind of shimmies behind a rocky outcrpping and I lose sight of him for a bit.  George sure is fast!





Son-of-a-bitch MUST. PAY.

No.  I'm not overreacting!  That glazed-over look in my eyes isn't the psychotropic effects of controlled substances!  Those voices in my head only told me to murder that one crab that one time, because he said Solitude sucked, and its actually a really nice town!  I'm sad now.  I've lost Gilbert, I've lost George, so I do what anyone would do.


Steal the man's horse.  Maybe it won't die immediately IF I JUST LOVE HIIIIIIIIM.  LOVE LOVE LOVE.

Meet: Chester.

So me and Chester head off into the sunset.  Except that Chester belonged to a vampire.  I was willing to overlook them while I cemented Skyrim's political fate, but George's death galvanized me.  My true calling for the time being was made clear.  Me and Chester?  We were gonna go hunt vampires.  Dawnguard, here we come!

Rolling in the Helm's Deep.

MTV Cribs would have a field day with this place.  Its this giant old old keep, that was built centuries ago to keep a single vampire locked away, because the Then-Jarl of Riften was a big ol' babbly and kept going "WAH WAH I DUNT WAN TEW KEEL MAH SON A BLOO BLOO BLOO I AM LE SAD." or some junk.  Eventually the guys keeping watch over Kid-Dracula killed him, because REASONS, and they were all kicked out of the clubhouse.  So they just went on killing other vampires while they were hobos, because why not?

That guy is Aegmar; he's a hopeful prospect for the Dawnguard, thinking "Well I don't want to live in fear, so I'll sign up!" Charming lad!  Then I meet this guy chopping wood, halfway up the keep; "Hi there!" I say, still hopped up on goofballs.

Look behind the couch dude; that's where I lose everything!

Ooookaaay... wasn't expecting that response for a hello there.  I mean I'm sorry dude; really.  Losin' wives? That's rough.  Hey what's your name there budd--

Oh dear God.  Your face.

Y-yeah dude.  Vampires.  Vampires are why they left you.  And not because you look like Jigsaw.  Vampires.  Well I'll be going now.  I proceed to run up the remaining steps, before my bad trip makes his face melt off.

Dawnguard keep's pretty big and imposing!  I feel like here, I'll be able to find me some kindred spirits, and clearly they'll accept me because I've made a living and a habit of punching dragons in the face!  I mean that kinda news gets around, yo.  I'm Skyrim-famous.


Toldin is from the Vigilants of Stendarr.  Apparently him and Isran over there had a falling out, because Isran is like the equivalent of the Tea Party against Vampires to Toldin's Republican Party against Vampires.  Toldin doesn't like them, but Isran?  Isran wants to hunt them all down to the very last one.  Crazy.

By now, my euphoric high is gone; I'm left with a deep hunger, and thankfully Isran tells me I can go rummage around the pantry for adventuring supplies before I head out to Dimhollow wherever.  Something about vampires.  Look I'm hungry.  Need me some SNACKS.




I am sufficiently prepared for whatever nonsense.  I mean, vampires?  OK.  Sure.  lets get it on with it.  Dimhollow Caaaaaaaaaaave!  Here I come!



Plunging necklines: easy targets for vampires.  As the Wu once said: PROTEK YA NCEK!

Hello not-nice lady.  You're totes gorge, but also a vamp.  This will not do.  Also you have a weird face, and I'm sorry but it just won't work out between us.  So I,ma have to kill you.  Severely.  And with great pain.  Her drain health spell is also a great pain, as the longer she casts it, the more she undoes my efforts to kill her by replenishing her own health, at the expense of my own!

Let's see what's over here, now...

D&D: Dank & Dungeony.

Well this looks ominous; gate/portcullis thing, weird glow...  mere mortals would fear to tread here.  But what's that!?  I hear the distant din of combat!  SOMEONE IS FIGHTING SOMETHING HUGE!  clang! clang!


This Vampire (Master) killed a giant frostbite spider, seemingly unarmed.  FINALLY.  A CHALLENGE!  Bring it, fangface!


Unfortunately, he was no match either.  Perhaps my aversion to very large frostbite spiders, is not that they're dangerous, but actually just hella-creepy.  All those beady eyes... staring at you.  Eurgh.  Gross.  I feel like I need 10 showers now.

Hey look what's over here:

It's Aldvald, the Vigilant who knew too much!

Poor guy; Toldin said he had gone ahead of us, as he was the wisest of the Vigilant order on Dimhollow cave, and the supposed secrets held here-in.  In the end though, he just ended up yet another corpse; good lookin' one, but still dead as shit.  Sadness.  His death was not in vain though; as turns out the inside of Dimhollow Cave has this huge coliseum built inside of it for some bullshit reason we don't know about yet!

When in Rome...

Might as well go and have a look.  Nothing really bad could happen, right?  Nothing should surprise me any more  after all I've been through since the sacking of Helgen by that dragon.  Nothing at a---


Unless you count getting stabbed in the hand for pressing a button, having a weird purple aura-wall block your path from escaping, and the second you wedge your hand off the booby trap, the floor sinking and revealing this:

Look at that.  Monolith with a skeleton right there so I can smack it with a thighbone.

Well this is balls.  My hand smarts.  Ouch.  I go over to kick the damn thing when it resonates as hollow; and also yells back at me.  Dubya Tee Eff, mate.

If only this wasn't how I met all my womenfriends; freeing them from ancient trap-coffins.

Well well well! A ladygirl!  WOO WOO!  What could this mean!?  Who IS this mystery woman!?  Why does she have an Elder Scroll on her back?  Why do game developers INSIST on abusing black, silver & purple when vampires are involved?

We'll find out, NEXT TIME!  (Hopefully Monday.  2013, we gon' bring it!)

Leave a comment/suggestion/question/etc below for fun or because you want to troll!