Last we left off, Isran and Serana were getting acquainted. And by that I mean they were politely declining from killing one another in my presence. How precious! Gunma has something for me to do, but he's not quite ready yet; so he sends me off to see Sorine who, I'm told, has a plethora of tasks for me to help out on. Helping is fun. Its' where I'm a viking!
Isran also has something for me to do; and after discussing it over with Serana, (see: yelling) they decided we need to find out what's on Serana's Elder Scroll.
Now for the uninitiated, Elder Scrolls are the moviepooper.com of Tamriel. They're spoiler-sheets galore of stuff that will pretty much happen to everyone and everything. Problem is, these things are pretty much unreadable to the untrained pesants. So we need a Moth Priest. Moth Priests are dudes who spend their entire lives training to read the Elder Scrolls correctly, and not have their minds BLOWN (literally) when they attempt it. See, with that much raw potential swirling on an Elder Scroll, your mind can be pretty much zapped with so much information, you die or go crazy or both.
Sucks, I know. For the sake of game mechanics however, there's a rumor 'round town that a Moth Priest was sighted near Dragon's Bridge or some other bullshit hamlet. TALLY HO!
But then: bandits.
|If you wander 'round Skyrim and get robbed by brigands, you're gonna have a bad time.|
|The mushroom patch says 'cozy' while the skewered, flayed, and burnt corpses say 'nuke this place from orbit.'|
Charming, I'm sure. I mean vampires don't mess around do they; they're making a statement here. "Don't mess with us." OK. Fine. Here's my counter-statement. I'm gonna mess regardless. And you'll regret it.
|Subterranean realestate should be a promising venture by now. Its' a buyer's market they say!|
|SWEET FIREY DEAAAAAAAAAAATH|
|Malkus rockin' the Ice Cock look. Blech.|
|Magical forcefields oscillate on the skrillex wavelength, because all they do is go "wubwubwubwubwubwubwubwub"|
See, Moth Priests train all their lives, right? Well what they don't tell you until its too late, is that the more you read an Elder Scroll, the more you go blind. Like straight up blind, your eyes don't work. But the better at reading an Elder Scroll you get. And like you gain the knowledge of knowing when your final reading will be, and the scroll itself lets you know this, but is Good Guy Scroll because it gives you that final warning so you can prepare yourself to get a sweet boost of knowledge before going batty.
Whatever, they're not my eyes; read away, Poindexter!
|"Oooh, miss Firedas! Tasteful, yet enticing!"|
|'So all religious nonsense is made up! HA! Atheism!' - Ricky Gervais or some other tired Carlin quote. Whatever.|
|Gotta pay the troll toll.|
I'm tempted to take one into battle with me; maybe ride him as a faithful steed (You can't. I tried. The troll wasn't too pleased either.) So Sorine tells me that some bandits have stolen some crossbow schematics she had once, and despite being a mechanical genius and medieval engineer in her own right, studying ancient dwarven relics to reverse-engineer their stuff to better our chances against the upcoming vampire onslaught; she absolutely CANNOT remember how to optimise her doohickeys, without the plans SHE drew up in the first place. OOPS! Butterfingers!
So whatever, fine. I'll go hunt down your silly drawings. First stop: Riften. Its the closest town and I need supplies. As I enter the town, I'm greated with the distant din of a really epic battle. By the time I run over to the merchant's quarter, its over. However this:
|I used to be a vampire like you; then I took an arrow to the GERK, I AM DEAD.|
|I don't know what hurt worse: the fact that I hit her so hard she's bleeding from the spine; or that it looks like I've tore her head off, bare-handed.|
|Gon' drop you guuuuuurl like a ton'a'bricks!|
|4 minutes, major penalty, checking into the barrels on #01 Ge'ek Outt.|
|"I really wish my brother George was here."|
Next time: I break up a cult, overtaken by another cult! Cultception!
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