Tyin' up ends tighter than the Raiders' offensive line Pt. 1

(FOOTBALL JOKE)

Greetings!

I know, I know.  It's been a while.  I'm terrible, and the worst, and a double-Hitler.  I love you too.  Without going into details too much, 2014's been a shitty year so-far and I've had to sideline a few things to keep a hold of what's left of my sanity, powering through the worst of it.

Skyrim will be shored up soon enough; so I'm going to have to rename the blog to something more all-inclusive!  I know this is all very passionate stuff, that all of you, my loyal fans are waiting with baited breath to hear me discuss at length.

Yeah baby, how you like dem re-branding scenarios.  Uunnnnh girl, you wanna revitalize my key performance indicators while I maximize my forward-facing image?  Alright enough I sound like like my Marketing class back in college.

SKYRIMS.  AWW YISS.  It's only been like 3 years since this shit's been out, so LETS FINISH IT, SHALL WE?

Majestic as FUCKBALLS, amirite?

Awwwwww yeaaaaah.  Cold heart of mothalovin' WINTER.  ETERNAL GODDAMN WINTER.  I type this as its like 30°C outside with 500% humidity so it feels more like FUCK YOU °C.  Because we are all meat-puppets made to suffer within our terrible slowly-rotting fleshsacs.  MOVING ON.

"And I call this game I made... RISK.  Pretty sweet huh?"

Galmar's all "Alright, we're goin' for the head honcho now.  GET YOUR ASS TO MAHS."  But by Mars he means Solitude; what's wrong with you.  Keep up will ya? Solitude's the seat of the Empire in Skyrim, and the major thorn to the Stormcloak's rebellion.  So fuck it.  Time to go annex some Jarls and their holds.  POLITICS, MOTHERFUCKER YEAAAAAAAAAAH

"If you see something that's not-on-fire, make it on-fire."

Well that's rather straightforward of you, Ulfric!  Also bravo for being a leader who's not afraid to get in there and mix it up!  As xenophobic and frankly straight up RACIS U RACIS you are, it is somewhat refreshing to see someone put their money where their mouth is, and go to task.

I just wish your task weren't to be a complete dickbag.  Oh well, the others are worse.  Having played through Elder Scrolls Online (Part of why this place went unattended for a while!) I can tell you the Aldmeri Dominion are cocks now and even back then when like Alduin was first time-shunted from the past into the present, or whatever.  I hate them and they can all die in a fire, I don't care call the cops.

"Good job on that everything-on-fire task I gave you."

So Solitude's on fire, I've gone through pretty much every guard in the whole city that didn't have the good sense to leave well enough alone and get outta dodge before the fightin' done started and... Tullius shows up.  Looks like he wants to talk.  Maaaaaaaaaaaan I just lit everything you've ever loved ON FIRE and even possibly screamed a few of your friends and children off of Solitude's parapets into a icy watery grave below if they're lucky, or had their bodies broken as they smashed onto the rocky shoreline, to be fed upon by mudcrabs and vultures.

SURE let's talk.

Et tu, Fruit-Brute?

 *KNEEL BEFORE ZOD JOEK OK LOLOLOL !! 1!!one!*

Tullius' talks are little-more than wanting to get a death-soliloquy in before he's off'd.  Which is OK, he deserves it, but mentions that he's AWARE that the Aldmeri Dominion are the true evil driving force behind the Empire, and that he doesn't love them at all.  WELL HE SHOULD'VE DONE SOMETHING ABOUT IT.  Hate on Ulfric buddy, but Ulfric got shit DONE and kicked y'all out of his goddamn backyard.  Imperials are the worst.

*Final Fantasy Victory Music*

SOLITUDE-GET.  This is essentially where the 2nd of the two main plot-lines from the standard game ends; with Alduin defeated and the civil war ended, I'd be left with an open world sandbox game to go fart around and do randomly generated quests for loot forever and ever and get to level A BEEEEEEEEEEEELYON.  Or whatever.  That's dumb.  You're dumb!  NUH UH!  Good thing those dragonpriests earlier went and attacked me openly in Riften or some shit, time to get to Solsteim and fffffffffffffffffffuck shit up.

Bonus imaginary points if you figure out which one I picked.  Like double-bonus, too.

And we're now starting the final DLC for Skyrim!  The first Dragonborn, Miraak has been essentially being a VERY NAUGHTY BOY, and is pulling a Palpatine with the whole "Join us! We'll rule the world!" OR ELSE routine.  Unfortunately for him, I don't play with others!  (Story of my life.)

"Not my job.  Shove off."

Solsteim is... less than receptive to fresh faces.  Dark Elves are the major ruling class here and pretty much do not give a shit about you unless you're bringing in a profit to their Houses.  Miraak has essentially RUINED all trade for the island however, so I'm able to use that to my advantage and leverage some dawdling bureaucrat to spill some beans.  Solsteim is home to Miraak's first ever temple!  Back when he was the first Dragonborn, and not crazed with power!  Like thousands of years about.  WOO.  Let's head there shall we?

Aaaah.  Just like home.

Somewhat dissappointing; the location is very same-y compared to the rest of Skyrim, when in Oblivion the 2nd big DLC had a completely different look to it (Shivering Isles) and with what they did for the area in ESO (which runs on a lesser engine than Skyrim, too!) Oh well.  I'm here, might as well go ahead and save the world.

The esthetics of this place scream of 'warm' and 'cheerful'.

Place is huge.  People really must've thought this Miraak guy back in the day was a big deal.  I mean you need people to build something this size.  This isn't a one-person job.  I can barely assemble a pillow fort by myself without giving up, let alone a giant temple to myself!  This is definitely a multiple contrator affair.

A wild lady approaches!

No really; she's a wildling.  Or at least Elder Scrolls' version of one.  They're essentially Nords who kept to their shamanistic and totemic ways, worshipping powerful imagery of wilderness and elements like bears, and snow.  So that's cool.  I like that.

'Sup Frea.  Wanna get to know one another better near a nice'n'warm hearthfire?  OH you're here for business?  Cool cool.  Stop Miraak's goons?  Nice!  So am I.  but moreso to stop Miraak.  'cuuuuuuuuuuz duty I guess?  Nah; I just want to punch'im in the face.  I'm not gonna lie and say I have an altruistic motive to all this.  I'm ruled by my baser urges of:

1. Punching things in the face (if they have a face; elsewhere if they don't.)
2. Eating meat (preferably red.)

Anywho; lets go in shall we?

Stairs.  Why'd it have to be stairs...

This place must be TARDIS-like 'cause I descended what felt like forever to get into the place and immediately I'm shown stairs that go up into a space I'm sure from the exterior would appear to be carved out already to make room for all those descending stairs.  This game takes some liberties when it comes to distances travelled during loading screens, but you're pushin' it here...

"Miraak's First Dragon - Age 25"

Well he's got a sense of style, at least; I too put the bones of my first dragon kill in my own house  It's not as big as this place here, but I think mine has a quaint charm to it, that invites one over for a visit, sit and perhaps even stay for dinner.  When my necromantic neighbor isn't respawning, that is.

THE PENITENT MAN KNEELS.

 SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSECRETSSSSSSSSSSSSS.  Miraak LOVES Last Crusade because he's built in pretty much every trap from it into his own base of operations except for the Magic Eye(tm) bridge because that one's lame.  Thankfully I've weathered far worse traps and horrors so-far just fighting dragons and draugrs.

Nobody's gonna block THIS fire exit hort hort hort I'll see myself out.

This might've stopped the casual zombie, or a slightly determined dungeon-explorer adventurer-type, but I'm made of sterner stuff.  I know words of power in an ancient tongue that where their very utterance I can shatter a man's bones, light him on fire, or freeze him to his very core if I so choose.

Come at me, Dragonbro.

OK THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS.

I feel like I'm in some shitty redneck circus' funhouse at this point.  I mean ALL that's missing is bendy mirrors, and a sad clown doing a jump scare at the end.  Well that's not true, there IS a sad clown, but he's the one doing the jump, because scared...  OK that one needs some work.

Just gonna grab you right through your face aaaaaaaand.... you're gone.

FINALLY some cultists.  Poor poor cultists.  Have mercy on them whichever God that is contracting them to do this shitty work, for they know not what they face.  I am DESTROYER OF WORLDS, EATER OF CABBAGES FOUND IN BARRELS DEEP WITHIN GHOUL-INFESTED BARROWS... I... really shouldn't eat produce I find in forgotten tombs now that I think about that.

BEHOLD; A CTHULHU STATUE-THING!

Well, I for one welcome our horrible nightmarish crab-overlords.  NAH JUST PLAYIN'.  The second I see this thing, I'ma punch it in its big doofy eyeballs.

End of the line

Well there's nowhere else to go, and I'm in a domed room with only one exit: the way I came in.  In the centre there is some sort of pedestal, with a book on it.  No Miraak.  Shit.  Maybe its his dream journal or something.  Maybe a diary detailing his most private thoughts.  Mmmmm yeah.  Tell me who you got a crush on...

READING!?  CURSE YOU, MY ONLY WEAKNESS!

Shit, well it IS his dream journal, of sorts!  As Miraak's not here, I might as well read it, see what it's got to say 'bout him and his powers and stuff.  Who knows, maybe it'll be interesting!

'Sup.

 OH GOD THIS IS NOT INTERESTING THIS IS NIGHTMARES.

His book has warped me to another dimension; the realm of Hermaeus Mora; Daedric Lord of secrets and general fuckery.  Remember Clavicus Vile from a while back?  That cheerful chap who resembles Loki from Norse Mythology?  Vile looks like goddamn Baldr next to Mora.  Mora's like if you took the story of "A Monkey's Paw", that severed chimp hand that grants wishes but its always twisted and whatever you wished for ends up being worse than not having wished for it?  Mora's like that.  "I wish for eternal life!" he'll turn you into a statue.  That level of shit.  But aslo steal your soul and torture it for eternity within this hellscape.

But I digress.  There's Miraak bein' all First Dragonborn, totally not keepin' his Dragonborn Privilege in check.  Like some sort of older sibling he's bein' a dick, while being flanked by his two pet octopus-ghosts?  I don't.  What.  everything in this dimension is tentacled, sickly-green, and ghostly.  And dripping.  Everything's just so wet all the time.  It's really gross.

Miraak's talking about I don't know, some bullshit about us not being so different he and I whatever.  He wants me to stop killing dragons and rather tame them so we can rule them and then the world.  I'm all "How you gonna do that from in here dummy.  We're in the dream-world or some shizz."

Big.
Mistake.

"THIS ISN'T EVEN MY FINAL FORM!"

AIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! HELP HELP HELP HELP!

And so, we shall FINISH THIS in Part... DEUX!?

Stay tuned!  Comments/Likes/Subscribes/Retweets/Shares/Pies down below in the comment section, kthnx.

Thank you for liberating me; but your arbitrary faction-choice's advancement is in another castle!

Oh hello!

How're things?  Good good!  Adventuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuure~!

Questin' questin' doodleedoo.  Galmar's got me raidin' keeps like it's going out of STYLE.  Or that it's urgent.  Which I guess it kind of is.  But after the last one, we need to step up our game!

So; Ulfric via Galmar of course, wants me to try and shake things up subterfuge-style.  Essentially we need to divert Imperial resources (army dudes) away from our resources (different colored army dudes).

Grabbin' this dude's package.  Eew.

Courrier wasn't too concerned that a very large man was kneeling at butt-level, rummaging into his rucksack for stuff.  Nobody else in the clearly-lit tavern seemed to mind that one man was at groin height, both hands firmly inside another man's satchel, rummagin' round like no tomorrow.  Good!  I like games that are progressive towards stuff like this, no matter how kinky it gets.  Kinkier the better!

I like to imagine I just crossed out one city-name in red crayon and then wrote in another.

Taurinus Dulillis Maximus Relaximus Alamagocus.  Clearly Imperial scum.  Here's your document, you dunderhead!  Go take a wrong turn in Albuquerque or whatever.  No one wants you here.

Sweet armor though.  Now that that's sorted, gonna go tell Galmar the Imperials totally fell for it.

He's got 'leaning over a table' down PAT.

Fort Snowhawk is one of those fantasy names that sound super-cheezy (because it is.) and clearly something that fits in like a George R.R. Martin book, or some knockoff high fantasy series about a smart and cunning warrior poet wizard, called I don't know; Olorin the Wise.  That sounds like it could sell a 10 novel deal on Kindle eReaders probably.

Anyways.  Forts.  Hawks made of snow.  I AM IN THEM.  And they're crawling with imperial soldiers, so I gots to get rectifyin' that.

SURPRISE!  Nice 'stache.  Buuuuuuuuuuuuuut you gon' die.

FISTY-DEATH FROM ABOVE!

They're all napping.... yeah that's the ticket.

Fort Snowhawk: acquired.  Time to head on back to Galmar and tell'im that they can move in, but in the distance I can hear the powerful crack of leathery wings slicing through the crisp winter air...

BECAUSE I'M WILD; YEAH!

I'VE BEEN TO THE TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN!  Downloaded and installed the Macho Man dragon-mod which turns all dragons into Macho Men, complete with soundbytes.  Seems that the mod DOESN'T like being installed along-side the Hi-Def texture pack.  That and normally the Macho men don't have wings just arms, but some effects seem to cling to the membrane-parts of the default wings, causing some artifacting to go on.

Look just for the sounds alone and the fact that its RANDY 'MACHO MAN' SAVAGE going OOH YEAAAAAAAAAH! when using shouts / dragon breath weapons, its more than worth the price of admission.  Which was free.  There is absolutely no downside to this, and I will challenge ANYONE to fisticuffs if they even deign to think otherwise.

SHOTS FIRED.

What a breath-taking view of Fort Greenwall.  Right before I sack the shit out of it.

Another day, another grotesque use of power on hapless victims.  I'd feel bad for'em, but y'know, I was forced to choose sides.  I picked Ulfric's, and I'll be damned if I'm going to have any regrets about it.  Nope; all Imperials are garbage and need to get the hell out of Skyrim.  S'what the boss said.  So out with y'all.

Oh how quickly those numbers go down now.

Didn't take too long.  The few soldiers who run away or duck into the fort are usually finished off by the Stormcloak rabble that Galmar sends along, because he doesn't think I can handle this.  I mean I can, and they do help, as they cut down on the chasing down deserters.  Arrows are indeed a big weakness for these guys!  Not just to their knees either.

Got a horse!  Worth like; 2 kingdoms.  Maybe 3.

Lookie what I found!  Normally the NPCs just shower the area with so many arrows they kill whatever's alive in the stables, but this guy survived!  I am gonna call him Sir Reginald Mortimer VonHoofenstuffs, of the Cyrodiil VonHoofenstuffs.

And more than likely completely forget about him in 5 minutes; what do you want, my attention span is a fickle mistress!

Great job!  Here's an outfit.

Mighty nice of you Ulfric to give me some team colors!  I'll just slide these on, even though they're light armor, and of an inferior quality to the Nordic carved armor I'm wearing right now, but bear-motif!  I love the theme!  This of course appeals to me and my need to collect outfits.  My Street Fighter 4 account is GREAT SHAME but proof enough.

2 TICKETS TO THE GUN SHOW.

Why yes, those are steel claws on my knuckles, and a bear pelt draped around my head and shoulders.  No the gloves don't add to my damage, and technically as its all Light Armor I get none of my heavy armor bonuses from them, but FASHION!  I am not a fashion plate, I am a goddamn FASHION BUFFET.  All-you-can-eat ladies!  Mrrrrow.

That's all for now!  More soon!

A NEW CHALLENGER HAS ARRIVED! Oh and a Skyrim post, I guess!

S'been a while.  How are you?  How's your 2014 goin' ?

Me?  Oh y'know.  Ups 'n downs.  But enough about me.


A VICTOR DONE HAD BEEN DECLARED!

Fallout: New Vegas wins!

Entire map is a sand trap, really.

To be fair: Civ5 got 5 votes as well, and although its a tie, Civ5 lends itself better as one-off posts.  I just might do some of that as well.  But all hail our new victor!

Feel free to suggest banana-crazy ways to play the game in the comment sections below.  Suggestions can be (but are not limited to)

• Keeping to a theme: i.e. dress up and act as a cowboy.
• Be an evil slaver bastard allied with the Legion.
• Melee weapons only, high medical and Speech skills.
• Shotguns, Leather Armor, Sunglasses.  "Give me your clothes, your boots, your motorcycle."
• Playing it on that insane wasteland survivor mode where I need to drink and pee and ammo has weight.  Ugh.

Anything really.  I'm looking for a challenge this time 'round, and if there's a lot of suggestions, I'll most likely mix & match some suggestions together so that the game doesn't become IMPOSSIBLE, but still has a unique feel for the playthrough.

NOW THEN.

Back to our onions; our Skyrim onions.  Last time, we were fighting off Otar the Mad in a fevered pitch to get back to Skyrim's surface world.  Well Otar done got killed, (like ya do) and I managed to crawl out of his mausoleum-like tomb to breathe in that wintry fresh Skyrim air.  Aaaaaaah.  Drink. it. up.

Time to wrap some things up.  Delphine and Esbern have a bone to pick with the Greybeards.  In that they KNOW the Greybeards' secret: Charles Martinet Paarthurnax.  And they. ain't. happy.  Well they're dragonslayers after all.  Well not them; but their order.  And there hasn't been a dragon in forever.  Impartial as I am between the Blades and the Greybeards, the fact that Paarthurnax is a dragon is somewhat alarming.


The least I can do is go talk to the ol' guy and see what he's all about, now that Alduin's dead'n'gone.  I mean The Blades want him dead, and the Greybeards clearly want him not-dead.

"I hate Morndas." Paarthurnax is more like Garfield right now.

 Look at that dude.  Just draped over that monument like some fat lazy scaled cat.  Sunning his lizard-buns all day, like he owns the place.  Well technically now that Alduin's gone, he kinda does.  He's the most powerful dragon, alive and well, living in Paris.

"I'm good enough, smart enough, and doggone it, everybody's afraid of me!"

Well that's not reassuring, Paarthy;  I get it you've went through a redemption process, but when you phrase it like that and then add that EVERY GODDAMN DAY you struggle with your baser urges and have to daily affirm to yourself you're not gonna enslave and eat all humanity like some sort of scaled Stuart Smalley...  well I think I've made my choice now.

"Et tu, Dragonpuncher'?" Am I using that right?

Well that's taken care-of.  Now the only nigh-powerful entity walking the lands of Skyrim is... me!  Unless a Daedric Prince shows up, we should be good.

Well there's that matter of a civil war a-brewin'.  No sense in lording over Skyrim if there's nothing left to lord over.  Decisions, decisions... Do I go with the Empire?  Or do I side with the Sons of Skyrim; the Stormcloaks?

Let's break 'em down.

The Empire aren't from Skyrim originally, are from Cyrodiil (ES4: Oblivion) and essentially moved on up their military presence into Skyrim to annex it and 'protect' it.  Kinda like what a certain German dude did in a tank to Poland a bunch of years ago.*  Ultimately they're being puppeteer-ed by the Altmeri Dominion, a conclave of Elves who're just dicks all-around.


The Stormcloaks are a radical faction of Nords from Skyrim who want Skyrim back under Independent and NORD-controlled.  They favor that the Nords are the 'True Sons & Daughters of Skyrim" in some weird master-race** notion, and refuse to bow down to any other sovereign nation.  They aren't being controlled by anybody else, but they're p. racist yo.

Essentially; It's a case of the ol' Double-Hitler Switcheroo***.  I have to pick sides; the game will not let me stay Neutral in their conflict.  Well that is to say the quest line will never complete unless I pick a side.  I can essentially never choose, but the events in-game will never progress, thus completion is unattainable.  I cannot let that slide, as there's achievements to be won!  ONWARD AND...

♫ DEY SEE ME STORMIN'.   

DEY CLOAKIN'.

TRYIN' TA CATCH ME THU'UMIN' DIRTEE. ♫

Ultimately a tough choice; one I was attempting to avoid for as long as possible; and while I do not agree with Ulfric's 'stringent' immigration policies, I prefer it to being made a vassal state to a puppet state run by a shadow council of Elven dickholes.  Sometimes, you gotta make the hard choices.  This was one of those times.

Ruling a fiefdom while maxin' and relaxin' all cool.

Jarl Ulfric had me 'pass a test' to see if I was a true Son of Skyrim, by delving into a draugr den, and fetching a mcguffin-level token to prove my loyalty.  Whatever dude, I stopped Alduin bare-handed.  Deal with it.  Anyways now I'm a proper member of the Stormcloaks, wether I want to be or not.

Next on the list: deliver a message to the Jarl of Whiterun, who, has been essentially on the fence about siding with either faction, though mentioning that he has no love for Ulfric and would more than likely side with the Empire because they're the stronger faction.  RIGHT NOW that is.

Let me AXE you a question, chortle chortle.

Balgruuf said essentially "Thanks but no thanks" to the axe I presented him, from Ulfric.  What does this mean, you ask?  If the current warlord of a region in turmoil offers you a weapon of war, and you refuse his gift, what other meaning could it have than "PLZ WRECK MY SHIT KTHNX."

Commence Operation: WRECK HIS SHIT KTHNX at once!

So off to go and take Whiterun, I guess!  I own a home there.  Despite moving on to Lakeside Manor, I still hope my house survives the assault.  No looting, plz.  Plz plz.

Only 2 out of 3 are true; not that bad!  We didn't steal anything that wasn't ours to begin with in the first place so...

And so commences the assault on the town that I helped defend from a dragon attack oh so long ago, that helped me capture Odahviing and end Alduin's reign of terror, oh and was where I first became a homeowner.

WELP.  TEAR IT ALL DOWN, KILL YOUR IDOLS, etc.

WEERGH! Indeed!  Peek-a-boo!

*TAP TAP* XCUZ ME

*PUNCH* BOOP!  LOL.

And a nut-punch for good measure, why not!?

Shhhh, it'll be over soon.

Well that was fun!  Despite y'know bunch of people I knew and had come to call neighbors and friends are dead now.  Companions' Guild is still intact!  They didn't partake in any of the shenanigans so at the very least I still got them to fall back on, at least!  Positive thinking!

Capture the flag level: NAPOLEON

Galmar is Ulfric's right-hand-man.  He also wears a bear pelt he presumably killed with his bare hands.  I can respect that.  For now, I'm taking orders from him out in the wild, as we systematically take back keeps from the Imperials all around Skyrim.  Right now, Galmar wants me to head over to a fort, and evict its occupants.

2fort 2furious

It's quiet.  Eerily quiet.  Nobody's around the fort and that bothers me.  I was told it would be lightly garrisoned, but so-far there's nobody.  Maybe I'll check the stablehouse...

Dang, that's ♫ COOOOOLD BLOOOODED ♫

Wow, I've seen a few greusome murders, fueled by vengeance in my life, but this is just down-right brutal.  To leave the knife there and position the body that way?  That sends a message.  And that message was this was an imperial ambush!  OH NOES!

NEXT TIME ON GEEKING OUT IN SKYRIM: I SURVIVE, MAYBE!?



*: Hitler reference!
**: Hitler reference again!
***: Not an actual thing!