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!

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!