As the gates of Whiterun welcome me once more into the local capital, I breath a sigh of relief, as I imagine must Stenvar. I am carrying a lot of loot from my recent explorations, and anything which proved too much for even my muscle-bound form would be passed to Stenvar to carry - remember, he's a hired mercenary.
A lot of the equipment is weaponry and armour, so I visit Warmaiden's to sell it off. Like any other trader, Ulfberth War-Bear only holds a certain amount of gold, so in order to sell a majority of my gear I need to purchase items from him to balance the books. A lot of arrows have been lost in my recent adventuring, and so I buy large quantities of these for each of our quivers.
I leave the shop and make my way to Breezehome. Even though no one is home to tend it, the firepit still burns well. As I ascend the staircase, I glance over to the still-shut-door of Lydia's room, but quickly steal my eyes back again and walk into my own. The chest in the corner contains a lot of my gains from adventuring, and it is here that I store the remaining items I was unable to sell at Warmaiden's.
While looking through the chest, I decide to pick up large amount of leather and iron ingots which I had stored their previously. I make my way back outside, and, after getting the nod from Adrianne, begin to use the smithing equipment to make iron daggers and leather bracers. As I make each item, I become more and more proficient at it, so that the next item is better than the previous.
Naturally, by the end of all this manufacturing, I am left with a pile of armour and weapons which I have no need for. Luckily for me, Adrianne has a separate purse to Ulfberth, and I am easily able to sell the lot to her. I have no idea how she'll carry it all indoors - I'm barely able to lift the lot myself. But that's her issue, not mine.
I walk up the hill and enter the Temple of Kynareth. The priestess is happy to see me, and even happier to know that I've returned with the sap to help the special tree. She rewards me with gold, but isn't keen on taking back the Nettlebane sword. Fine, I'll hold onto it myself.
All through this conversation, I am waiting for the priestess to ask me about her assistant - after all, he never came back with me from Eldergleam Sanctuary. Maybe she wanted him away, and possibly dead? Either way, not my problem. I leave the temple.
As I begin to head out of Whiterun to begin my adventures once more, I have a quiet word with a little girl who has been bullying a boy. This boy turns out to be the Jarl's son - I fear that by not standing up for himself, this boy will not grow up to be a strong Jarl (assuming the Hold functions under some rudimentary form of hereditary monarchy).
We leave.
Showing posts with label nettlebane. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nettlebane. Show all posts
Friday, 30 December 2011
Tuesday, 6 December 2011
Skyrim - Strange occurances at Eldergleam Sanctuary
Through a shimmering cave entrance, the rock walls slick with water, I find myself on a trail leading off towards some light. As the cave opens, I stare up in awe at the beauty of nature in front of me. Grass stretches off into the distance, flowers burst from every available nook, a stream trickles quickly from a waterfall bursting from a small hill contained within the cave. And on top of the hill lies the Eldergleam tree itself, it's leaves a delicate pink.
A woman walks on the lush grass just down from the tree hillock, her name is Asta. She looks at me, armed with the strangely twisted blade of Nettlebane, and asks what I am doing in Eldergleam Sanctuary. So I tell her - I have been sent here to take a slice out of this big old tree to fix another tree in Whiterun. She is aghast at this, and begs me not to harm the tree. This woman is obviously some rural type who has no appreciation for urban redevelopment for the sake of public mental well-being.
I walk off towards the path which will lead me up the hill, and spot another human within the glade. He is sitting at the edge of the grass, with his feet dangling in the crystal waters of the stream. He has nothing to say to me, and I leave him to his quiet procrastination.
The path progresses up the hill quite steeply, and I would reach the top quickly were it not for the large roots extending down over the way. Fire magic does nought, though swift stabs with Nettlebane soon make the roots pull back as if in shock. I don't find this weird at all - afterall, though well watered from below, this huge old tree is growing quite successfully in a cave with very sporadic light.
The top of the hill is essentially just tree, with gentle light filtering down through a hole in the roof of the cave. I nonchalantly shimmy over to the main bough, and give it a quick nick with the blade to nab some sap. And then things turn strange...
A small whirlwind forms nearby, drawing leaves up from the ground to form a tree-like entity known as a spriggan. It doesn't try to speak to me, or merely eject me from what I assume to be its home - all it tries to do is kill me with strange magic and sharp wooded talons. I throw fire magic at it, and hit it with Nettlebane, theorising that it won't like either of these implements of death. And soon enough it is dead, and I am harvesting "tap root" from it's remains.
Heading back down the hill to exit the glade with my bounty, I can see several more of the creatures guarding the way out. To my horror Asta is lying dead on the grass. You'd think I'd blame myself, but she could have tried to stop me or at least get out of the cave before I stabbed the tree. I get the impression that this is where she would have wanted to die anyway.
I swap my blade for fire bow and arrow, and apply copious amounts of weakness-to-fire potions to my arsenal. These arrows mortally wound the spriggans, though some are tougher than others, and I again harvest their damaged bodies for things of worth.
I step over the man who was until recently bathing his feet, and burst out into the daylight.
A woman walks on the lush grass just down from the tree hillock, her name is Asta. She looks at me, armed with the strangely twisted blade of Nettlebane, and asks what I am doing in Eldergleam Sanctuary. So I tell her - I have been sent here to take a slice out of this big old tree to fix another tree in Whiterun. She is aghast at this, and begs me not to harm the tree. This woman is obviously some rural type who has no appreciation for urban redevelopment for the sake of public mental well-being.
I walk off towards the path which will lead me up the hill, and spot another human within the glade. He is sitting at the edge of the grass, with his feet dangling in the crystal waters of the stream. He has nothing to say to me, and I leave him to his quiet procrastination.
The path progresses up the hill quite steeply, and I would reach the top quickly were it not for the large roots extending down over the way. Fire magic does nought, though swift stabs with Nettlebane soon make the roots pull back as if in shock. I don't find this weird at all - afterall, though well watered from below, this huge old tree is growing quite successfully in a cave with very sporadic light.
The top of the hill is essentially just tree, with gentle light filtering down through a hole in the roof of the cave. I nonchalantly shimmy over to the main bough, and give it a quick nick with the blade to nab some sap. And then things turn strange...
A small whirlwind forms nearby, drawing leaves up from the ground to form a tree-like entity known as a spriggan. It doesn't try to speak to me, or merely eject me from what I assume to be its home - all it tries to do is kill me with strange magic and sharp wooded talons. I throw fire magic at it, and hit it with Nettlebane, theorising that it won't like either of these implements of death. And soon enough it is dead, and I am harvesting "tap root" from it's remains.
Heading back down the hill to exit the glade with my bounty, I can see several more of the creatures guarding the way out. To my horror Asta is lying dead on the grass. You'd think I'd blame myself, but she could have tried to stop me or at least get out of the cave before I stabbed the tree. I get the impression that this is where she would have wanted to die anyway.
I swap my blade for fire bow and arrow, and apply copious amounts of weakness-to-fire potions to my arsenal. These arrows mortally wound the spriggans, though some are tougher than others, and I again harvest their damaged bodies for things of worth.
I step over the man who was until recently bathing his feet, and burst out into the daylight.
Sunday, 4 December 2011
Skyrim - Lydia-less
With Lydia no longer at my side, I drift down the mountain as if in a dream. A landmark comes into view, an abandoned watchtower called South Skybound Lodge. Without my erstwhile follower, I sneak into the empty tower. I find a chest and a spider, which proves easy prey.
I am aiming for Whiterun, but find myself in the vicinity of Riverwood. I don't mention Lydia to anyone, and no one asks. I worry that her impact on this world wasn't as great as it was on my heart.
I enter Lucan Valerius' shop, and find him knocking things over. I imagine if I were to do the same, he wouldn't be too happy - his shop, his rules evidently. The golden chicken foot I brought back for him days ago is now displayed proudly on the counter. I sell a few things, lighten my load for the trek back to Whiterun. I leave without much of a chat.
The journey is uneventful, and I enter Breezehome. I store the items I took from Lydia in the chest next to my bed, as they will come in useful in the future. I walk back across the floor to where Lydia's room is. I take one last look at the tidy quarters, before shutting the door forever. This was her home, and I'll be damned if anyone else will ever enter that room.
Grasping Nettlebane, the magical blade I was tasked with procuring, I walk up the hill to the Temple of Kynareth. Walking through the door, I present it to the priestess. But she is wary of it, and does not seem keen to use it. She asks me to visit a glade and cut another big tree to get her some sap to fix the tree outside. I'm beginning to feel like the sap here - sure, she's dealing with a lot of sick and wounded, but there are other things I need to be getting on with.
I accept, and go to leave. Before I can, an acolyte called Maurice asks if he can come along with me, in pilgrimage to the Eldergleam Sanctuary where I am heading. After the hurt of Lydia's death, I am tempted to tell him to stay put, that death follows me around like a bad smell. But he is quite insistent. I tell him he can come along, but give no promises on his safety. Skyrim has already proven to me how cheap life is in the wilderness.
I look into another matter before leaving Whiterun - a man from House Gray-Mane is missing, presumed dead. The Gray-Manes belief House Battleborn has something to do with it, and so they have tasked me with finding evidence that proves this. I walk into the main abode of House Battleborn, brazen. Almost instantly I spot an out of place diary on some drawers next to a bed. Inside are details to where the Gray-Mane is being held - he's alive! As I pocket the book, I hear an old woman say "I saw what you did."
Turning around, a Whiterun town guard has been called due to my theft. But I placate him - I am a Thane of Whiterun, and certain leniency is granted to me. I'm not sure how far I can go with this, but the feeling of power is dizzying.
I return to the Gray-Mane with the book. She is terrified that I won't be able to release him, that I'd require an army to do so. I tell her that I will take care of things, without bloodshed (though we both know this won't happen).
I leave Whiterun with Maurice in tow, and head for the mysterious glade of Eldergleam Sanctuary.
I am aiming for Whiterun, but find myself in the vicinity of Riverwood. I don't mention Lydia to anyone, and no one asks. I worry that her impact on this world wasn't as great as it was on my heart.
I enter Lucan Valerius' shop, and find him knocking things over. I imagine if I were to do the same, he wouldn't be too happy - his shop, his rules evidently. The golden chicken foot I brought back for him days ago is now displayed proudly on the counter. I sell a few things, lighten my load for the trek back to Whiterun. I leave without much of a chat.
The journey is uneventful, and I enter Breezehome. I store the items I took from Lydia in the chest next to my bed, as they will come in useful in the future. I walk back across the floor to where Lydia's room is. I take one last look at the tidy quarters, before shutting the door forever. This was her home, and I'll be damned if anyone else will ever enter that room.
Grasping Nettlebane, the magical blade I was tasked with procuring, I walk up the hill to the Temple of Kynareth. Walking through the door, I present it to the priestess. But she is wary of it, and does not seem keen to use it. She asks me to visit a glade and cut another big tree to get her some sap to fix the tree outside. I'm beginning to feel like the sap here - sure, she's dealing with a lot of sick and wounded, but there are other things I need to be getting on with.
I accept, and go to leave. Before I can, an acolyte called Maurice asks if he can come along with me, in pilgrimage to the Eldergleam Sanctuary where I am heading. After the hurt of Lydia's death, I am tempted to tell him to stay put, that death follows me around like a bad smell. But he is quite insistent. I tell him he can come along, but give no promises on his safety. Skyrim has already proven to me how cheap life is in the wilderness.
I look into another matter before leaving Whiterun - a man from House Gray-Mane is missing, presumed dead. The Gray-Manes belief House Battleborn has something to do with it, and so they have tasked me with finding evidence that proves this. I walk into the main abode of House Battleborn, brazen. Almost instantly I spot an out of place diary on some drawers next to a bed. Inside are details to where the Gray-Mane is being held - he's alive! As I pocket the book, I hear an old woman say "I saw what you did."
Turning around, a Whiterun town guard has been called due to my theft. But I placate him - I am a Thane of Whiterun, and certain leniency is granted to me. I'm not sure how far I can go with this, but the feeling of power is dizzying.
I return to the Gray-Mane with the book. She is terrified that I won't be able to release him, that I'd require an army to do so. I tell her that I will take care of things, without bloodshed (though we both know this won't happen).
I leave Whiterun with Maurice in tow, and head for the mysterious glade of Eldergleam Sanctuary.
Sunday, 27 November 2011
Skyrim - Battle at Orphan's Rock
A lake comes into view as we descend back down the mountain from Helgen. I walk over to it, and decide that with all the hubbub I've been through of late, that I deserve a dip.
The water is freezing cold, Lydia cleverly remains on the shore. I dive down into the depths. On the bottom, I find a sunken boat - its former occupants nowhere to be seen. Whoever they are, they left behind their chest of goodies - stuff my pockets with what I can before surfacing and returning to the shore.
My quest still uncompleted, I resume my search for the magic blade which the priestess in Whiterun was after to fix the tree. The weather has turned from snow to rain, all around I am surrounded by dripping trees and grey rock. I wouldn't call it foreboding - there are just nicer places I'd rather be right now.
I can see a cleft of rock jetting out of a nearby hill - it is here, I work out, that I will find the blade. The priestess had said something about it being dangerous around these woods, but again I hadn't really listened to her. After all, a priestess is going to find most things outside the comfort zone of the shrine to be a bit dodgy isn't she?
I wish I had heeded her warning, as moments later we are under attack from mages seemingly from all quarters. All forms of magic are lashing the ground around Lydia and I - fire, ice, even electrical. Lydia runs into the fray after loosing a volley of arrows, her sword flashing blows on the mages.
I try to follow her in, but someone or something else is throwing heavier magic at me. Large explosions rock the narrow valley we find ourselves in. I have no idea where they are coming from, or even what is capable of magic of such magnitude.
The mages are suffering a sound thrashing from Lydia, who is once more reveling in bloodshed. I finish off a few of them, dashing between outcrops of rock to prevent the magic expert from getting a bead on me. I'm feeling a bit strange - the near constant barrage, and the need to down potion after potion just to remain upright has left me somewhat light-headed.
A path is visible up to the outcrop of rock, and I make a dash for it. An ugly creature is at the top, in the middle of a savage encampment called Orphan's Rock. It is a hagraven, a disgusting cross between woman and bird. It is this which has been causing me so many problems. I apply some poison to my blade to stem the creatures magicka, as well as taking copious amounts of magical protection potions myself.
My blade swipes again and again at the evil harridan, and eventually I am left stood over the dead creature. Searching the body, I find the blade which the priestess was after - Nettlebane. It is made from a dark metal, and is dull in the afternoon gloom. I slip it into my pack.
The battle has been won, and now I allow myself the blessed luxury of sleep. I enter the cleanest tent I can find, and close my eyes for hours.
The water is freezing cold, Lydia cleverly remains on the shore. I dive down into the depths. On the bottom, I find a sunken boat - its former occupants nowhere to be seen. Whoever they are, they left behind their chest of goodies - stuff my pockets with what I can before surfacing and returning to the shore.
My quest still uncompleted, I resume my search for the magic blade which the priestess in Whiterun was after to fix the tree. The weather has turned from snow to rain, all around I am surrounded by dripping trees and grey rock. I wouldn't call it foreboding - there are just nicer places I'd rather be right now.
I can see a cleft of rock jetting out of a nearby hill - it is here, I work out, that I will find the blade. The priestess had said something about it being dangerous around these woods, but again I hadn't really listened to her. After all, a priestess is going to find most things outside the comfort zone of the shrine to be a bit dodgy isn't she?
I wish I had heeded her warning, as moments later we are under attack from mages seemingly from all quarters. All forms of magic are lashing the ground around Lydia and I - fire, ice, even electrical. Lydia runs into the fray after loosing a volley of arrows, her sword flashing blows on the mages.
I try to follow her in, but someone or something else is throwing heavier magic at me. Large explosions rock the narrow valley we find ourselves in. I have no idea where they are coming from, or even what is capable of magic of such magnitude.
The mages are suffering a sound thrashing from Lydia, who is once more reveling in bloodshed. I finish off a few of them, dashing between outcrops of rock to prevent the magic expert from getting a bead on me. I'm feeling a bit strange - the near constant barrage, and the need to down potion after potion just to remain upright has left me somewhat light-headed.
A path is visible up to the outcrop of rock, and I make a dash for it. An ugly creature is at the top, in the middle of a savage encampment called Orphan's Rock. It is a hagraven, a disgusting cross between woman and bird. It is this which has been causing me so many problems. I apply some poison to my blade to stem the creatures magicka, as well as taking copious amounts of magical protection potions myself.
My blade swipes again and again at the evil harridan, and eventually I am left stood over the dead creature. Searching the body, I find the blade which the priestess was after - Nettlebane. It is made from a dark metal, and is dull in the afternoon gloom. I slip it into my pack.
The battle has been won, and now I allow myself the blessed luxury of sleep. I enter the cleanest tent I can find, and close my eyes for hours.
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