Cold Gore

Weys was on the case. He wasted little time. He talked to Jorlief, who gave him the go-ahead, then caught a snooze over at Candlehearth Hall. He woke up early enough to break into the house of Aventus Aretino, the local bogeyman, without arousing suspicion. But Aventus wasn’t the killer Weys was looking for; actually, Aventus was putting a call out for a killer, and apparently Weys had answered it. And Aventus was nine years old.

A Grisly Enough Scene, but Wrong Guy

“I knew it! I knew you’d come!” Aventus cheered and did a dance.

“Whoa, kid. What’s with the bones?”

“That’s my mom. She died of natural causes, but I had to use her bones, bladder, and meat in the evil ritual to call you.”

Weys backed up a few steps, looked behind him. “Me?”

“Yeah, you’re under contract from the Dark Brotherhood. You have to kill my teacher now.”

“That’s odd,” said Weys. “I don’t recall signing any contract.”

“You have to do it!”

“Why?”

“Because she’s mean, a mean, mean, meany-pants!”

“Can’t argue with that.” Weys exhaled and jotted the task down in his journal: Kill Teacher. “Listen, kid, I’ll do your dirty deed. A contract’s a contract. But it’s at the back of the queue, you have to understand.” Weys knelt down and showed the kid his extensive to-do list. “Right now, I’ve got a real detective job, and I told this woman up on the hill the other day that I’d find her some special salts, and then there’s this deal I’ve struck with the Graybeards in a place that’s very, very cold. They told me to go get a horn, and I agreed to do that, so I don’t know when exactly I’ll be able to get around to your assassination–that’s in a whole new neck of the woods, both geographically and morally.”

“I summoned you! You have to do what I say!” Whine, whine, whine.

“I know, I know. I get it. I’m just telling you that your petty third grade grudge assassination isn’t a priority for me, so it’ll get done when it gets done, kapish?”

“Waaaaaaaah!”

“Whatever, I have a killer to find.”

Weys tracked the killer to a bloody door, which was locked. He consulted with Jorlief. Jorlief told him to talk to a murdered girl’s mom. The mom could give him a key to the house, which was the house of the murdered girl.

“Oh, this is going to be an awkward conversation,” said Weys.

Can I Have the Key to Your Dead Daughter's House?

“Listen, Mrs. Shatter-Shield,” he began. “I know you’re still grieving and are busy eating that piece of bread, but I need that key.”

Mrs. Shatter-Shield sighed and handed him a bloody key. Weys washed it off and went down the street to investigate. He found a secret panel in a false wardrobe, which opened onto another grisly scene.

Looks Like Aventus Arentino Has Been Here

Weys found some books that said, “I did it! Signed, Wuunferth the Unliving.” He went back to the palace to tell Jorlief, who didn’t need a whole lot of convincing.

“That sicko? Doesn’t surprise me.”

Jorlief and a lady guard went to arrest the Unliving. Weys followed them, believing it would be good entertainment and part of his just reward for sorting through so many corpse parts during his investigation. “Windhelm really should try to cut down on instances of dismemberment,” he advised Jorlief.

Busted!

“It’s been my pleasure protecting and serving the people of Windhelm, Jorlief, but it’s cold here, and there has been a lot of death, and there’s a little kid in town who creeps me out and intimidates me, so I’m going to leave now.”

Jorlief nodded. “Aventus is a creepy little sombitch. That’s why I wanted him shipped off to boarding school. There’s no real law that says he can’t live in that house with his mother’s bones, but I just can’t stand the little bugger. Say, did he deliver you some line about the Dark Brotherhood and tell you that you signed a contract to kill someone?”

“Yeah. His teacher, as a matter of fact.”

“Look, you’re a good guy and I know your heart’s in the right place, but don’t kill anyone for that kid. That’s how his mom died. I just haven’t been able to prove it.”

Weys’ eyes widened and he left town.

Dragonborn Gumshoe

Weys started down the snowy mountain and ran into the snow troll once more, but this time the snow troll saw him. Weys ran. Ran ran ran all the way down the mountain, because he knew that snow troll would eat him. Getting seen by the snow troll = getting eaten by the snow troll. Fact.

Back in town, Weys headed toward the barrow because the innkeeper had asked him to. As an inspiring investigator, Weys thought the dip into the tomb would help beef up his resume.

Another Barrow, Another Dollar

He was right. Turned out that this Scooby-Doo mystery was easily solved. The ghost turned out to be a common looter, seeking the sapphire dragon claw that would open the way to the riches of the barrow.

A Ghost Asleep... Wait a Minute...

Weys’ first clue that something was amiss was that the ghost was asleep. After that, it was just a matter of taking the ghost’s journal. All was revealed, and Weys left the ghost to sleep with his zany potions of ghostly glow. When the innkeeper was presented with the looter’s journal, he smacked his head. “What a fool I’ve been!” Then he gave Weys the sapphire dragon claw that the looter had been looking for. Weys tucked it into his pants for later.

After a nice sleep, Weys hit the road again. He avoided confrontations and saw the sights. Some confrontations could not be avoided, so he killed some big cats and took their eyes. He tasted one of the eyes. It was gross. And then, because he could, he poached a spider from atop a high rock.

The High Dive

This walk led him to Windhelm. Tired of the snow, Weys decided to hole up in Candlehearth Hall for the night. He took a bunch of ingredients that were sitting neglected in sacks and cooked his meals for the entire week. He didn’t have any tupperware, so he just poured the beef stew and apple cabbage stew into his backpack, then tossed in the roasted rabbit haunches and grilled venison. He remembered his mom telling him, “It all gets mixed together in your stomach anyways.”

He chatted up a lovely lady by the fire, but she wouldn’t give him any interesting dialogue options.

No Dialogue Options

She did tell Weys that if he really wanted a drink, he should go to the bar in the Gray Quarter, where all the hip dark elves hang out. The Nords in Windhelm, like all the Nords Weys had met so far, turned out to be racists. The dark elves were sequestered in a slum, and the lizard people weren’t even allowed in the city. Weys marveled that the lizard people had survived out in the snow, as he had always assumed they were a cold-blooded folk who needed lots of sun. While in Candlehearth Hall, Weys taught a particularly boastful racist Nord a lesson by beating the shit out of him. Then he headed down to the dive bar in the Gray Quarter.

"So, uh... umm... uh. I guess I'll have another drink."

The conversation at the dark elf bar was as dull as it had been with Susannah the Wicked. Weys had heard from her as well as others about murders in Windhelm. He asked the bartender at the dive bar about the murders. The response was, “Why should I care about a bunch of snot-nosed Nord women getting killed when I have to run this dive bar in the slums?” Weys didn’t have a good answer for that, so he ordered another drink.

Although he was interested in the case, Weys couldn’t get any leads on the murders. He had heard that someone was offering money for the slaying of a dragon up on some hill to the south, so Weys decided to head that way in the morning.

On the way to kill the dragon, he ran into a dragon harassing a village. He helped the villagers kill their dragon, then ate its soul. This one tasted like boiled peanuts. Weys almost threw it back up, but managed to keep it down.

Yum!

Then it was off to kill the other dragon. He found it on top of the hill, as he’d been told. It was flying around in circles like an idiot and roaring, really drawing attention to itself. Weys was still full from the other dragon, but a job’s a job, and so he went to kill it. But this dragon wailed on Weys.

Uh-Oh

The dragon dove, clawed, wing-bashed, breathed fire, and laughed at Weys. Weys stabbed it with his frosty sword and ran away. He practiced his healing magic on himself. A lot. The dragon kept setting him on fire, and Weys failed repeatedly to stop, drop, and roll. He was burning to death when a friendly giant stepped up and cracked the dragon’s skull. Weys stopped burning, ate the dragon’s soul, and then ran after the giant to thank him. The giant looked at him and shrugged.

Weys said, “I like your tattoos,” in an attempt to break the ice and awkward silence.

The giant shrugged and walked on.

Saved by This Giant

Weys returned to Windhelm and collected his bounty. He strolled through town and onto a murder scene. Weys was upset when he saw that the murderee was the young woman who had recommended the dive bar in the Gray Quarter.

“Hey, I knew her, sort of. Bummer.”

On the other hand, he now had his foot in the door of this mystery. This grisly murder was tragic, but it was also business.

Not Just Another Dead Nord Woman. Now it's Personal.

 

To Jedi Training Camp

Weys blew out of Whiterun like a summer breeze. He wanted to go to the beach, but disciplined himself to find the bazillionjillion stairs that he needed to climb to get to the ‘Beards. Along the way, he encountered some monoliths framing a side road that climbed up a hill.

The Road to Stonehenge?

Weys climbed the monolith-crowned path. When he got to the top, someone was already there, snooping around. Weys wanted to approach, shake the stranger’s hand, and practice using his powers of Speech by introducing himself as The Dragonborn, nice to meetcha; however, the robed individual drew a dagger. Weys paused and reconsidered the situation.

A Shy Necromancer

He said, “Um, hey there,” from a safe distance.

The suspicious dagger-wielding character said, “You never should have come here!”

“I get that a lot.”

Big skeletons came out of nowhere and beat Weys with their bones and weapons. Weys fought back and broke them using the Special Axe he had gotten from the Jarl in celebration of Weys being a Thane, a Person of Some Importance. The Special Axe caused the suspicious character to run away. Weys followed him and hit him again, repeatedly. End of that part of the story.

The next time Weys walked off the beaten path, he came upon some giants. He knew that if he tried to walk through their camp, they’d act all territorial and want to smash him. Since confrontation seemed inevitable, he thought he would go ahead and pick the fight this time.

Sneak Attack!

From far away, the arrow struck its mark. The giant became enraged. The giant ran towards Weys. Weys tried to reload and fire again, then panicked and ran away. The giant could run surprisingly fast. Weys turned and faced it, determined to fight like an elf. As he pulled out the Special Axe, the giant landed a phenomenal uppercut with its club. The club was as large as Weys. Here’s what happened next:

Wheeeeeeeee!

Weys landed in the fog and rain. A dragon was in the sky, spitting lightning at something off to the right. Weys’ mouth watered and he could tell that this dragon’s soul would taste like blackened bratwurst. He salivated. He shot arrows. He missed a lot. If he hit, the dragon didn’t notice. It kept breathing lightning off to the right. And then it flew away. Weys sighed.

Soul Food

He carried on and came to an orc. The orc was pretty friendly and asked Weys to kill him good.

Weys said, “Come again?”

The orc said, “I had a vision of a good death. Maybe you can help me by killing me.”

Weys tried to talk the orc out of it. “Really, orc, you’ve got you’re whole life ahead of you! Think positive thoughts.”

The orc said, “No. It is time for me to die. I have no luck with the women and will not be chief. It is time for me to die.”

Weys said, “It sounds like you’re really hurting. Have you talked to a therapist?”

The orc said, “Orcs are not like weak elves. We do not believe in psychotherapy or pharmaceutical interventions.”

Weys said, “Not even skooma?”

The orc said, “Well, skooma in moderation. But I will never take skooma again. It is time for me to die.”

Weys said, “I’m sorry, orc. I just can’t help you with that. By the way, I’m The Dragonborn. Hope you feel better!”

One Very Depressed Orc

“Dragonborn…? Wait!”

But Weys was already skipping down the road, heedless of the glorious death that he had denied the orc. He picked thistles and mountain flowers as he went, carrying this flora in a wicker basket which hung on his shield arm. He sang old traditional elf tunes as well as a few modern songs by Elf Power. He spent the night on a cot in a tower at a guardpost that had an excellent sunset.

Tranquility After Violence and Requests for Violence

Next day, Weys killed a big spider, then headed into Ivarstead to seek the gabazillioninfinite steps up to High Hrothgar. He stopped in at the inn for a pint of whatever they had to drink and chatted with people, casually dropping the fact that he was Dragonborn.

“And when I saw that book in the torturer’s chamber, The Dragonborn Book, it became very clear to me.”

The bartender told him about ghosts in a barrow, but Weys didn’t have time for that.

“Look, bartender, I’ll see what I can do, maybe next week. Right now, I’ve got to get up to High Hrothgar because I’m The Dragonborn that they’ve been shouting for. Maybe you heard them call my name in the thunder. I did.”

When he was very drunk, they threw him out the door. He sobered up as he climbed the frosty steps.

Don't Slip

Weys ran into several people meditating in the snow. Then he saw a snow troll. It was smelly and loud and he easily sneaked past it and on up into the ‘Beards frat house.

“Hey guys.”

The one ‘Beard that spoke said, “Welcome, Dragonborn. Hit us with your Voice.”

Weys punched them with Force, Unrelenting Force.

The ‘Beard said, “That was awesome.”

A Jedi Master

Weys said, “Y’all gonna teach me about the Force, right?”

“The Voice. Use it to break up these holographic projections of Emperor Palpatine.”

“Yes, Master.”

Emperor Palpatine, Is That You?

Having passed his exams, Weys was graduated into the cold and another unpronounceable word was burned into his brain. Ah, beautiful dragon gibberish.

I Can't Read Your Handwriting

Neglect of Duty: Primeval Wanderings

Although he was tickled to be recognized as Dragonborn by the Nords, Weys decided to strike out into the wilderness rather than return immediately to the Jarl. Call it heightening the dramatic tension, or simply neglect of duty.

In the wilderness, he saw his first mammoth.

A Mammoth

He followed the mammoth for a while. He stumbled into a camp used by giants, who apparently keep mammoths as pets, like big dogs. Weys approached the giant in a calm manner, but before he could use his powers of Speech, which surely would have swayed any rational oversized humanoid into friendship or at least submission and compliance, the giant became agitated. The giant brandished a club that was bigger than Weys. The giant waved the club in the air, smacked it against the palm of his hand, and used the universal sign for “I’m gonna get you sucka if you don’t step the hells back outta my territory.” Weys, preferring to meet interesting new creatures rather than be pulverized into pulpy bits of mashed skin, bone, and blood by them, backed away from the giant.

Friendly Giant?

In backing away from the giant and up a hill, Weys discovered a cave. Since it was nearing his bedtime, Weys thought, “Oh, how fortuitous! I can just bunk down in this cave for the night.” Upon entering the cave, Weys saw another giant. This giant did not see Weys, and seemed to be kicking a wall repeatedly. Seeing that this giant was distracted by this task, Weys sneaked further into the cave. There were two big bags of mammoth cheese that Weys stole, even though they did not look or smell particularly delicious. He stole for practice, and because he could. Next he moved on over to that dead guy in the cave, hoping this dead guy was not like the dead people in the barrow, who often tried to kill Weys. All Weys wanted to do was to search the corpse. He didn’t want to bother with putting down another undead denizen, and although the thought crossed his mind that a burial of some sort would probably be the proper thing to do when one finds an abandoned dead body, Weys just didn’t feel up for it, what with the giant making all that noise over there. So he looted it and found a note from a woman named Yoda who apparently lives in Whiterun and wanted this vial of Sleepy Time Tree Sap that Weys had just ganked from the corpse. Maybe he would just have to pay a visit to this Yoda. He imagined he would say, “I found your note on your dead friend. Say, you still interested in buying this Sleepy Time Tree Sap?”

Weys Steals from the Dead

When Weys left the cave, he walked into the tusks of a mammoth. The mammoth was not happy with Weys. Weys ran. And ran. And when he had reached some weeds, he hid. He ran sneaking through the night. He came to an awesome shrine with a book and some other loot, all of which he took. He thought about spending the night at the shrine, but decided to just take a picture. He slept elsewhere under the stars that night.

The Court Wizard Would Love this Place

The next day, Weys walked back to Whiterun. He jogged a little, but mostly he walked. He avoided mammoths and giants, but he did hunt several elk and even managed to take one down. Weys discovered that he is a terrible butcher, though, as he only got one piece of venison out of the entire bull. The rack of antlers, too, was mangled beyond salvage.

Before entering Whiterun, Weys stopped in at the Honningbrewery, where he met Alice Cooper sweeping the storeroom.

Whatever, "Mallus." You're Not Fooling Anyone.

Alice Cooper told Weys to “piss off.”

Weys said, “Charming! I will, trust me, but first, sing School’s Out for me.”

“Piss off.”

Weys went to see the Jarl. The Jarl told Weys that he should climb a billion stairs to get to a bunch of old men with beards.

Weys said, “I’m not going to all that trouble just to meet ZZ Top. Alice Cooper’s down at the Honningbrew. I’d rather just hang with him.”

“They have been summoning you! You must go. They speak like thunder in the sky.”

“Come to think of it, I did hear a funny thunderclap yesterday.”

“They are calling your name. You must go to them.”

A Man in a Quilted Bathrobe Stands Next to the Jarl

The Jarl gave Weys a big axe for being Dragonborn and named him Thane. For a while, Weys was convinced that he had been named king of Whiterun; however, the Jarl continued to act like the Jarl, so he had to ask his housecarl, Lydia, what it meant to be Thane.

“It means you’re a hero!”

Weys wondered about Lydia. “So… the Jarl said that you’re to be my hot carl?”

Lydia frowned. “Housecarl.”

“And what are your duties as my hot carl?”

“Housecarl. I can follow you around like a puppy if you like.” She smiled winningly.

“No thanks. I do better on my own.”

“Wait–like a puppy with a sword!”

“I’m good, thanks.”

On his way out, Weys stopped by the Court Wizard’s apartment and told him to go down to Honningbrewery and heckle Alice Cooper. The Court Wizard agreed to do this–”That’ll be sooo metal!”–after he finished his magical shenanigans for the day. Weys hung out with the Court Wizard so he could use his alchemy table. He created a few hazardous fumes while brewing up his herbal concoctions, but the Court Wizard seemed to enjoy the stench.

Next Up: Weys and the Old Men in the Snow

The Taste of Pulled Dragon Soul

Weys headed back to Riverwood, just ’cause. He stopped by the Riverwood Trader to cash in some of the useful stuff and other artifacts that he found in the barrow. Lucan Valerius continued to grumble about “thieves.” Weys aspires to thievery, and was not inclined to ask Lucan how he could help; indeed, Weys was slightly offended at the tone Lucan used.

Weys grumbled, “There is honor among thieves.”

Lucan narrowed his eyes. “What was that?”

“Nothing, sir.”

Weys left the Trader and went back to the riverside, where he “harvested” the last piece of salmon. He ate and browsed the diary that he had gotten off the Nord Supremacist bandit he had tried to help, the one that had been strung up in the spider web.

Weys thought, “That guy was a real asshole.”

And then he discovered that the Golden Monkey Paw was not a monkey paw at all but was instead a Golden Dragon Claw. He took a closer look at it.

“I suppose that explains why it only has three fingers.”

Dragon Claw?!

He also discovered that the claw had been stolen from Lucan.

“Oh, that’s what he’s been bitchin’ about.” Weys looked at the claw and appraised it. “I bet this isn’t even real gold. Look at that. Gold plated. No, it’s fool’s gold plated! What a piece of junk.”

Judging that this trinket was valueless and that he had gotten all of the use out of it that he likely would, seeing as it was a key that fit a specific riddle lock and Weys had already been there, done that, like sooooo five minutes ago, Weys decided to prove to Lucan that there is honor among thieves by returning the piece of junk to the Trader.

Weys walked casually into the Trader. He announced himself as a rogue, a tomb raider, a ranger in the wilds, and a common thief. He used his grand powers of Speech to spin a long, soft and fuzzy yarn about his time in the tomb in the cold mountain. At the appropriate moment, he flourished the Claw and gently set it on the table.

He said, “Lose something?”

Lucan said, “Well, I’ll be!”

Lucan’s sister tried to come on to Weys. Weys played it cool. Maybe later.

No reward was offered. Weys left the building once more. He passed a dog and told it, “That was slightly disappointing.”

Weys blew out of town at a brisk walk. The afternoon was passing and he wanted to be in Whiterun by dusk, in order to seal the deal on the Dragonstone bounty.

“The Court Wizard best pay up big for this haul.”

He picked some flowers along the way. Once in Whiterun, he headed up towards the Jarl’s place, and made an unfriendly face and gesture as he passed the Nord Supremacist Preacher. Then, he was stunned as the Northern Lights poured all wavy green across the star-spangled sky.

'Scuse Me While I Kiss the Sky

After gaping for a sufficient time and taking a photo, Weys rolled on to the Jarl’s place. There, he witnessed the Court Wizard making time with a lady friend. Weys instinctively began snooping. Perhaps he would hear and see something scandalous. Perhaps the Court Wizard was a spy who could not be trusted, leaking state secrets to this ambassador from Russia.

Weys thought, “He’d have to be pretty dumb to do that right here in the Jarl’s place.” But he still listened, hoping for scandal and treason. Nothing of the sort transpired. Disappointed once more, Weys sighed and stood up, announcing himself with a knock.

The Russian Ambassador said, “I think you have a visitor.”

The heavy metal Court Wizard said, “Oh, it’s the Jarl’s protege. Have you brought the Dragonstone?”

“Yeah, I got it. Where’s my reward? This thing weighs at least 25 pounds, you know.”

“You’ll have to see the Jarl about that.”

“You would say that.”

The Heavy Metal Court Wizard Courts the Russian Ambassador

Wouldn’t you know, not a moment later and whats-her-name, the Dark Elf gal who was rather rude to Weys two episodes back, shows up and is all like, “A dragon is attacking West Harbor!”

Weys looked puzzled. “Don’t you mean Whiterun?”

“A dragon is attacking Whiterun!”

The Court Wizard thew his hands up in the air, brought them in front of his lips, clapped several times in the space of one second, and said, “A dragon! How exciting! I hope I can get a stool sample.”

The Dark Elf said, “We have to kill it! Come on!” Having little time to brood and be gothic, she took off running.

Weys followed her.

The Court Wizard said, “This is going to be so metal! Wait for me! I wonder what dragon blood tastes like.”

The Russian Ambassador thought it best if she get back to Russia. No dragons there.

When they met the Jarl he said, “Yes, you must kill the dragon!”

Weys said, “Hold up, Olaf. What about my reward?”

“You can build a house in Whiterun, or buy one that is on the market. Mortgage rates are at an all time low. It really is a buyer’s market. I’ll hook you up with my cousin Vladimir, a great realtor, no bullshit. And take these boots.”

Weys put on the boots and thought about how he didn’t really want to buy a house and settle down in Whiterun. He preferred the wilderness or, if not, a bigger, filthy city. The boots fit pretty well.

The Band's Back Together!

And they went to slay the dragon. Weys hid well and shot it with lots of arrows. It died and combusted and melted down to bone and Weys ate its soul, which tasted like pulled pork seasoned with chipotle.

One of the guards who hadn’t died in the dragon attack said, “Whoa. You are Dragonborn. You ate dragon soul.”

Weys wasn’t sure what to say, so he said, “I always eat souls. Why, I had a cricket soul as part of my balanced breakfast. I also had buttered toast and orange juice soul.”

The Dark Elf captain said, “You ate its soul, so what? I’ve seen stranger things. I’ve been all around this planet. I’ve seen lots of things. I’ve eaten souls. Big deal. What matters is, can you stab stuff to death, because in this world, that’s all that matters, you know, you’re in a fantasy video game and you have to kill monsters all the time. That’s what I do.”

"You Ate its Soul, So What? Big Deal."

The guard said, “If you are truly Dragonborn, you should be able to shout.”

Weys already knew he was Dragonborn, because he found a book about it in the torture chamber early in the game, and that was significant. It had meaning. Weys knew damn well he was Dragonborn, because he wanted to be.

He said, “I don’t need to prove anything to y’all. I’ll shout when I’m good and ready.”

The guard really wanted him to shout. “Please shout. For me. I really want you to. I mean, this never happens–well, except every time anyone makes it this far in the game, but that’s an academic question. All those other instances are happening in parallel worlds that may be immeasurably distant or immeasurably close to our reality. Did you know that some scientists postulate we live in what they call an Inflationary Universe? One of many. And still other scientists talk about how we might be a slice in a “brain,” and others believe that the vast cosmos is running on a quad core processor with 8 GB of RAM.”

Another guard said, “There he goes again. Shout, Dragonborn.”

Weys shouted. It was loud.

Of Dungeon Crawls and Monkey Paws

After being pressured by the Jarl and the heavy metal Court Wizard to retrieve some kind of “Dragonstone” tablet, Weys checked his map and pursued the most direct route to the barrows. The most direct route was up a steep pass.

A Steep Pass

It got real cold. In the blizzard, Weys gritted his teeth and wondered why he had ever left the temperate woodlands.

So Cold

Up at the barrows, he was forced by a small group of Nord Supremacist bandits to kill them. He would rather have engaged them in a productive dialogue about racial equality and international cooperation, but all they would say is, “Skyrim belongs to the Nords!” as they shot and hacked at him. So be it, he smote them down, though it was not his chosen style. He resolved from that point forward to Sneak more, in order to avoid unnecessary confrontations, because people tended to die in those. After taking the bandits’ useful things, he posed before the door to the tomb.

Glamor Shot #11: Facing the Barrow Door

Inside the barrow, he snuck. Sneaking, he overheard a couple more Nord Supremacit bandits talking about how another Nord Supremacist bandit had bolted off with a golden monkey paw.

Weys thought, “Golden monkey paw?”

He stood up and approached these two bandits, hoping to engage them in a casual conversation about dungeon crawls and monkey paws.

“How ’bout them monkey paws?”

The bandits said, “Our monkey paw! You die!”

Weys sighed and said, “There’s an easier way to disagree that involves less violence.”

The bandits pressed their attack. Weys responded by killing them and taking their useful stuff. He headed deeper into the dungeon, not crawling, but sneaking. These dungeon people were just not very amenable, and best avoided completely. But they were unavoidable. After sneaking for a while, Weys heard someone calling out for help.

Weys thought, “Ah, perhaps this chap will be reasonable.” He hacked his way through a thick spider web, vanquished the aggressive giant spider (once again, dialogue failed) and agreed to cut down the cocooned bandit.

Weys said, “Let me help you with that monkey paw.”

The bandit called Weys a fool and ran deeper into the dungeon, where he was slain by dead people.

“Poor chap, killed by the dead. That’s kinda pathetic.” Weys performed a brief funeral rite for the dead bandit, then took his useful things, especially the golden monkey paw.

Killed by the Dead

Deeper in the dungeon, Weys came upon a dangerous corridor. There would be no Sneaking past this. He ran forward and got cut. No worries, he just hung around for a bit on the other side until those gaping wounds healed up real nice. No scars.

Weys Contemplates Sneaking Past the Axes

He knew that he was getting deeper into the tomb now, and realized that he hadn’t eaten in forever. Appreciating his own foresight, he ate some salmon and a potato that he had packed for the trip. He wondered how late it was getting. He thought it was probably past his bedtime. But time had no meaning here, in the musty grave buried in the cold mountain. Thank the gods he was inside and away from that snow, though.

He saw some dead people walking around ahead, up some stairs. Recognizing that he had a good vantage point on these corpses, Weys shot them from safety.

"Hip hip hooray! A successful sneak attack!"

Weys came to a puzzle. He looked at skillfully rendered engravings to reason out the clues. He felt he was good at this sort of thing; after all, he excelled at riddles while in Elf School. Alas, this puzzle involved manipulating stone dials and appeared to defy Weys’ usual habits of mind. Rationality, which seemed to dictate “butterfly, bear, owl,” did not appear to govern this puzzle. Puzzled, Weys toyed with the dials for an hour or more. He muttered to himself as he realized that he would have to exhaust all 27 possible combinations in order to find the solution, as his mind was not running on the same wavelength as the Nords’.

Quality Craftsmanship

After proceeding through many combinations, the dials snapped to attention and the door opened with dramatic flair. The solution, it appeared, was alphabetical: “bear, butterfly, owl”.

Weys shook his head in appreciation of this. “Those clever Nords! Sly fellows placed red herring murals on the walls–expensive ones, too–and simply alphabetized the animals for a solution. Not at all what one would expect. Well played, Nords. Well played.”

"Well Played, Nords"

Beyond the Alphabet Puzzle lay the Dragonstone tablet thing, guarded by a very tough dead person–so tough that Weys died over and over, and was surprised to find himself transported back in time each time to a time just before the sepulcher blew open with an amount of force that was extraordinary, especially since this force was generated by a dead person.

As this sequence progressed, Weys thought, “Oh dear. Perhaps this is my own personal hell. I’ve been bad and now I am to be killed for eternity by a dead person.”

After over two dozen deaths–which amazingly did not render Weys into a dead person like the one that he fought, but simply kicked him back a few moments in order to make him alive and ready to fight again, each time with a slight adjustment in strategy, as neither Sneaking or Speechifying proved effective against this mean old dead person–Weys finally hit upon the right combination of sword slashing, fire magicking, and running and healing which led to his finest and most-savored victory to date. He took the Dragonstone and other useful things from the refried corpse.

Here Rises a Really Mean Dead Person

Weys was astonished to find that all he needed to do to exit the barrow was climb some stairs and fiddle with a handle. Dang! A secret door opened and he walked out onto the side of the mountain.

“Oh, if I had only known about this two days ago, I wouldn’t have even needed that darn golden monkey paw and those poor Nord Supremacist bandits would maybe all still be alive.”

Alas.

Next: Back to the Jarl

Whiterun!

The Stranger’s sidekick took his leave of The Stranger, “harvested” some salmon that he found conveniently cooked and hanging by the river, and struck out towards Whiterun. He picked herbs and flowers as he went along. At dusk, he entered Whiterun, cutting a mysterious profile in the drear and drizzle, with a sword at his side and a pouch full of mountain flowers. Seeing thistle growing in Whiterun, he took that, too.

"Do I look mysterious?"

A few people tried to talk to Weys, but he pretended not to care. “I’m role-playing,” he told himself, as justification, and he was. At the gate of Whiterun proper, a guard tried to turn him away, but Weys used his powers of Speech to convince the guard that he bore important news from Riverwood about a big black dragon. Weys was making things happen, and he walked through the gates with the full approval of that guard.

Once inside the gates, it did not take long for Weys to see a sign and say, “Ooooooh, an alchemist’s place! I can play with my flowers here!” He entered the alchemist’s place and was greeted by the proprietor. She wanted to sell him things, but Weys was very poor and mostly had a bunch of flowers and thistle. He mumbled something unintelligible to the woman, perhaps an attempt at a courtesy, then walked over to a table with mortar, pestle, beaker, and flame. He assumed that he could use it and did. The proprietor woman was quite encouraging of this activity. Weys failed a lot at first, but then hit on some good recipes. The woman said something like, “That’s great! Keep it up! You’re doing awesome and your curiosity will be rewarded by the flowers!” Weys smiled and ignored her, then spent the night on her bench under some dream catchers.

Nice Fire

The next morning, he ran into a man who appeared to be more mentally ill than Weys himself. Mesmerized, he listened to this individual rant about a man-god and make racist statements about elves. Weys concluded that this character was a Man Supremacist, then restrained an urge to shoot him from above. Instead, Weys later approached the man in order to make a scene; unfortunately, the most scathing dialogue option Weys saw available was, “Aren’t you concerned about getting arrested?”

The Man Supremacist Draws a Crowd

So Weys went to see the Jarl. Once more, Weys used his powers of Speech to crush a protective lackey. He was invited by the Jarl to say what he had to say, and Weys told the Jarl that he was some sort of criminal who witnessed a dragon attack during the attempted execution of an important rebel person. “Oh, and you should send some peeps to Riverbend, because they’re totally scared right now.”

The Jarl responded, “Riverwood,” then snapped and told his overprotective lackey to send some peeps to Riverwood.

The lackey looked confused and asked, “The little marshmallow chickens that people in another reality get for Easter and sometimes Christmas?”

“What?! No! Do your job, woman!”

Weys smiled, satisfied.

Next, the Jarl said, “Say, Weys, you look a curious criminal sort, perhaps a bit touched in the head. Up for a quest? Good. I’ll introduce you to the court wizard. He wears black.”

The Court Wizard Wears Black

The Court Wizard told Weys about a stone tablet in a dungeon and said, “Please get this for me.”

Weys said, “Oh, I’m not really into dungeon crawls.”

The Jarl said, “It’s really important. You should probably leave yesterday.”

Weys looked at a map on a board to his right. “This is a great rendering.”

The Jarl said, “Really, you should go. I want that tablet.”

“In a minute, Jarl. What’s the Court Wizard doing? That table looks pretty wicked. Hey, y’all have a alchemy table, too? Niiiiice.” Weys sidled up to the Court Wizard. Looking over the wizard’s shoulder, he tried to make friends.

"Rad table, Court Wizard. Ever listen to Slayer?"

The wizard glanced at Weys in a way that suggested that Weys should probably take a bath. He said, “Obey the Jarl. Stone tablet. Pronto.”