Tyin' up ends tighter than the Raiders' offensive line Pt. 2

(STILL THE SAME FOOTBALL JOKE.)

So; when we last saw eachother, we were warped into Hermaeus Mora's realm of nightmares, with Miraak standing there being all " 'Sup."  like he owned the place.  Well he sort-of did, but really not.  Anyways.  He pulls his Emperor schtick, I say no, and... he kicks me out!  Well fiddle-dee-da, what the fuck.  Maybe I'm not fat enough for him yet; he wants me to plumpen up with more delicious dragon souls before he goes about absorbing me into his collective power pool.

Gross.

Anywho.  Out of dreamland, for now.

SKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL!

Remember Frea? 'Course ya do.  WELL turns out the Skaal are her people.  They eek out a meager existence on Solsteim's frosty slopes, relentlessly under assault from Miraak's brainwashed troops.  Because that's what he does.  He mind controls them and stuff.  Kinda sad really; dude can't make friends at all so he just coerces the weak-willed ones to do his dirty work, like excavate all his temple nonsense.

Don't mind if I do!

But first, cool skeleton takin' a nap here won't mind if I take his swords now would he?  Not like he needs 'em, I've punched everything alive and not-quite-dead within a 5 mile radius anyways.  You don't mind mr. Skellington, do you?  Didn't think so.

Shields won't hold captain; we can't take it much longer!

So the Skaal village's defenses compromise essentially of... the 3 people left in it, spending all their time praying to the gods of Old.  Not like, OLD GODS like Cthulhu or whatever Elder Scrolls equivalent (Hermaeus Mora HINT HINT) but like, their own versions of dudes in Sovngarde and according to Nord tradition.  They're ancestors but so ancient they've transcended dead guy/gal status and became legendary embodiments of stuff like courage and compassion and war, etc.  Y'know.  Godly stuffs.  We good?  We good.

Frea's dad is Storn, the local elder Shaman or whathaveyou.  Within me, he recognizes the power to stop Miraak once and for all.  Or so he thinks.  First off however, there's a bunch of totemic standing stones that need to be cleansed of Miraak's influence.  However only a Dragonborn can do so, using the 'Bend Will' shout.  It so happens he knows it, and teaches it to me.  This allows me to also bend the will of dragons and use them as mounts.  Handy!

"Go forth and complete the sacred prophecy of... yelling at rocks."

What Storn didn't tell me however was that Miraak had these stones guarded by hulking masses of NOPE.  Creatures assembled from the inky nothingness of entropy, which is what Hermaeus Mora's realm is essentially fashioned of.  It's like if Livejournal was made into a physical place you could go to, but only the livejournal part of the internet populated by teenagers starting to be  self-aware but still not mature enough to understand that the world does not revolve around them and their non-problems.  Also nightmares.

♫ Ain't lurkin' fer nothin' but a good time ♫

Well that was terrible.  Lurkers are rugged beasts and what's that I hear, off in the distance...

"MACHO MADNESS RUNNIN' WILD YEAH"

Oh. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.  I forgot I had this bad boy installed.  FUCK YEARGH.  Wait.  I kill it (Obvs.) but I don't get his sou--- OH GODDAMNIT MIRAAK.  He shows up from between dimensions, and absorbs the soul for himself.  ALL THAT HARD WORK, FOR NAUGHT.  I guess that's why he let me live, so I could go 'round and feed him some tasty macho dragon souls.  Well F that, I'm not about to stand around and do this guy's business for him.

Whatever.  Storn's all about finding a way back to Hermaeus Mora's realm, but on our own terms.  Which will require another of Miraak's books.  Thankfully he knows where one is!  Unfortunately its within a deadly dwarven ruin known as Nchardak.

Thankfully he knows of a dark elf named Neloth, who just so happens to be an expert on dwemer ruins and more specifically Nchardak.  Good.  Come along and try to be useful.

"Ah, ruins.  Good ol' ruins.  Nothin' beats ruins!"

Well this place looks sufficiently rundown and dirty.  Where am I, current-day Detroit? HORT HORT HORT I'm sorry Detroit city is in a very unfortunate situation where it recieves less aid from the US government than certain 3rd world countries.  In fact less than all of them.  Detroit's in a bad place go out and help'em.  Maybe become a robocop, clean up the place.  It's OK I'll wait.



You all done?  No?  A bit more time? Ok.





We good?  We good.

"Friendly fire is this guy's favorite spell, it seems."

Gatdam Neloth.  Seriously dude; check your aim.  That's a big ol dang ol frosty ol twinpops in my fuckin' chest there.  Furthermore, you've enhanced it, and the poor sap I was killing I might add, with the elemental power of electricity.  Behold, you robed Tesla, for you've cunningly channeled it through the ice shard creating a sucking wound through and through me, directly into the dude's junk.

That's pretty amazing, actually.  Hardcore bro.  up top.

Oh no a puzzle whatever will I do.

Puzzles suck, moving on.

Oh no a book whatever will I do.

Yay book-get.  Let's get this baby back to the village so Storn can do whatever magic nonsense he needs to do to it.  I ain't no book-mage; don't look at me.

"I I I Iiiiii want the booooook."

So, Storn gets his book, gets about halfway through it, then WELP, if we press on, Hermaeus Mora will be pissed probs, and there's no turning back.  Frea of course opposes contnuing, because usually stuff like that means her pops gonna get got, and she'd rather keep him alive.  I'm all for an alternate solution, because those usually involve me punching a lot more things into various thicknesses of paste.

SIKE!  Reading.  For idiots.

Oh SNAP.  Storn's all "WE DON'T HAVE TIME" does the thing anyways, counting I'll probably be able to rescue him from that Daedric Prince's realm while I'm in there rootin' around for Miraak too.  Yeah OK.

This is all too heavy, man.  I need to reflect on all that's happened... also I'm hungry.

Well its like; now Storn's dead, and the Skaal village has a floating murderous book in the town square, and no longer any defense against Miraak's agents in the physical realm.  I... guess I should get in there and y'know, hop to it.

And eyeball tentacles everywhere.

No longer in Kansas, AMIRITE? HA HA HA WHAT A JOKE WE SHARE RIGHT N--

Books.  Why'd it have to be BOOKS.

For those of you who don't know me, I hate to read.  I used to love it, but then college happened and I've read enough for one lifetime.  So a nightmarish realm filled with cthulhus and constructed entirely out of books is my own personal HELL.

INVISIBLE HORRORS

Damn things can go invisible!  Ambushing me in a book tunnel after a flurry of pages swarm me.  I think I peed a little, out of fear.

He comes bearing... gifts.

Hermaeus Mora, like all Daedric Princes, comes offering me a gift.  Why? who knows.  these guys are always doing shit for no reason; its how they get their jimmies in jams or whathaveyou.  Of course this requires reading, so I hate it already.

Desintegration!?  Fucking RIGHT.

I can shout people into dust?  Sign me the fuck UP.

ULTIMATE POWERRRRRRRRRRRR

Aaaaaaand Miraak.  He's impressed I got this far! We're not so different he and I, and all the other monologuing platitudes.  Whatever.  Time to go to TOWN on this supposed Dragonborn.

Hoisted upon his own nightmare-tentacle.

Well Hermaeus Mora might've helped a bit there, at the end.  Mostly because he suffers no losers in his team, and Miraak got his bell rung by yours truly, he done went and murder-killed him, releasing all of Miraak,s poached dragonsouls back to me while I was there.

It was like in Highlander, when Christopher Lambert kills another highlander guy and absorbs all their power / knowledge, but with less lightning and Queen music, but more badassery and.. well that's about it.  Coulda used the Queen though.  Here it is.

With Miraak dead, Mora's all "Coo' coo'.  GTFO." And warps me back to Skaal village.  Hopefully nothing has changed while I was gone...

Squatters suck

Buncha gremlin-lookin' dudes decided to move in to the empty houses, F that nonsense.  Riekling gon' get evicted or die tryin'.

That's done!  The end! Skyrim got skyrimmed (Sorry.)  Solsteim is saved for now, so I can go back to Skyrim's holds, see if everything is still the same as I left it before my last big adventure.

Ol Stumpy we calls'im!

YEP.  Everything's still the same.  Glitched all to hell and back.

THANKS for pursuing this adventure with me, especially if you followed along from the start to the very end.  This was fun, despite the lack of updates here and there.  

My next adventure will be a Fallout: New Vegas adventure, but there will be more about that soon enough in an upcoming post.

Thanks again for all your stalwart clicks and stuff, its been a wild ride!