Predictable Randomness

Forum

Post Reply
Forum Home > Elder Scrolls > Hrothstuck

Crimson DESTR0YA
Administrator
Posts: 1888

>Patiently await the winged entity's formal introduction

--

The destructor has gone

November 29, 2013 at 9:12 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Tamoria
Member
Posts: 234

The bit with Farengar was beautiful, thank you


>Deekin: attempt to not freak the fuck out when the dragon attacks you

--


November 30, 2013 at 9:07 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Xelakian
Member
Posts: 486

>Patiently await the winged entity's formal introduction.
The winged entity introduces itself to you and your band of guards as Mirmulnir. Not that you'd know it, because you're too distracted by the fact that it just flew through the remnants of the tower like it wasn't even a thing. And now it's chasing you down, trying to burninate you to a crisp. And of course, you trip on the charred remains of a Nord.


>Deekin: Attempt to not freak the fuck out when the dragon attacks you.
You manage to flip over, in time to see the dragon dive bomb towards you, fire issuing from it's gaping maw. You succeed in not freaking the fuck out, casting Steadfast Ward, which absorbs the brunt of the inferno. As it passes over you, you manage to stand back up, just in time to see the thing double back, flying towards you yet again.

>Ice and Fire are opposed. The dragon is a thing of Fire. Therefore, Ice should slay it.
Yes, this train of thought sounds reasonable. You keep Steadfast Ward at the ready, and cast Frostbite as the beast approaches. As he draws nearer, he stops and lands in front of you. He takes in a deep breath. You ready your ward. A deafening roar accompanies a wave of fire.

>Be the other guy.
What is your obsession with being the other guy? What's so cool about being the other guy? Can't you see that the hero of this story, Deekin the Argonian, is in dire straits? We can't just abandon him, can we?


...but, since you insist...



You are now Arngeir, the eldest Greybeard, master of Thu'um. You have spent many a decade atop the Throat of the World, learning and meditating on Paarthurnax's teachings in silent seclusion from the rest of the world, along with your fellow brethren. You have lost all interest in the outside world. Your studies and meditation bring you enlightenment, even if it does mean you must remain silent, lest you unleash the might of the Voice. Yours is a simple life. Pilgrims bring gifts of food that keeps easily, as climbing the 7,000 Steps is no simple task. There are few of you and you eat little, so it is rare that you are wanting. Not that you'd really be able to leave anyways. The treacherous mountain path notwithstanding, there are frequent blizzards that obscure vision and cover all surfaces in a sheet of ice. In addition, there are wolf packs and worse that hunt on this mountain, and, most importantly, you're old, far too old for such a journey anymore. No, you'll probably spend the rest of your life on this mountain, stuck in High Hrothgar...

...Hrothstuck, you might say...

...on second thought, that sounds stupid.

>Enough. Go back to Deekin.
Oh, no. You asked for it. We're being the other guy, whether you like it or not. I'm sure you'll love the simply thrilling tales of eating salted fish and reading books long since memorized in complete silence while a snowstorm rages outside. Surely, no adventure could be grander.

>Please. No. I'm begging here. Go back to Deekin.
Oh, alright. You are once again Deekin, and you are staring down Mirmulnir. You can feel your shield giving way. You cast Flameskin on yourself, using the last of your remaining Magicka to do so. The ward breaks. The fire burns like nothing you've ever felt, even with the protection of your spell. You decide to end this. You begin walking forward, the flames pushing against you. You're going to fight this dragon up close and personal.

...assuming you can make it there alive...

>Irileth: Do something suitably badass.
The dragon is no longer airborne. Irileth takes the opportunity to leap onto its back and try to attack it. As she begins stabbing at Mirmulnir's head, it ceases its fiery assault on you, and begins flailing its head. Irileth's blade finally finds purchase, and she manages to hang on. The beast flies and begins flying in loops and spirals, trying to shake the Dunmer. This gives you just the opportunity you need to drink all your potions. You now have your Magicka back, but, if you have any hope of defeating this thing, you will have to fall back on the blessing of the Histskinned.

>Histskin?
The Histskinned are those who, at a young age, bathe in the sap of the Hist trees. The sap would soak into their skins through their scales, granting them a variety of powers. In your case, this manifested as the ability to will yourself to regenerate at a nearly instantaneous rate, but in doing so you become overcome by visions as the trees communicate to you. Something that may very well be fatal here.

>Deekin: Slay the dragon. No matter the cost.
You cast Almalexia's Grace and rush to where Mirmulnir is currently diving. As it swoops back  up, you leap onto it's head. The dragon is trying to shake you and Irileth off even more violently now. You grab a hold of Irileth, who loses her grip on her sword as the beast barrel rolls again. As you fall, you cast Feather Fall, softening the impact. Mirmulnir flies back to face you. As it opens its mouth, words, not fire, issue forth.

"Brit grah. I had forgotten what fine sport you mortals can provide! You are brave, balaan hokoron. Your defeat brings me honor." The beast inhales.

A roar of flame engulfs you.

Your skin begins regenerating. Your eyes widen as you see the flames become orange leaves of autumn. You are Winter incarnate. Your hands control the snow and ice that freeze and kill. The snow and ice of the Mountains. The snow and ice of the North. The leaves have all died, turned brown and fallen from the branches. All that remains is the twisted, cursed tree from which they originated. The tree which, though surely dead, continues to move. Trees do not move. Those which are dead do not move. You begin climbing the wriggling tree, your claws ripping the bark as you ascend, your hands freezing all they touch. The tree grows, unfazed by winters approach. As you reach the top of the tree, you find what the tree was guarding so zealously: a pair of apples. But you are winter, and apples are a fruit of the fall. With the endless nights approaching, all things freeze and die. You pull the fruit from the tree, freezing it in the process. The tree is finally dead.

You're falling. How did you get so high up? Why are you on the dragon's head? Why do you have bloody dragon's eyes in your hands? What happened to its scales? Why is it halfway frozen? THIS IS WHY WE DON'T USE THE HISTSKIN!

You cast Feather Fall and touch down gently. Mirmulnir on the other hand...not so much.

As the remaining guards gather round, what remains of the dragon bursts into flames. The wisps of smoke encircle you, whispering something inaudible to you in some other language. The other guards are amazed. They begin calling you Dragonborn. Well, you are reptilian and all, but perhaps that nickname is in poor taste. They insist, stating that the Dragonborn eat the souls of dragons, gaining their powers. They are masters of the Voice. They ask you to try it. You think back to what little of their language you remember speaking, and the only word you can think of is FUS.

A wave of force expands in the direction you speak, knocking a still recovering Irileth back down to the ground.

You are Deekin Histskinned, the Dragon of the North.

--

Friend Code: 1006-1639-8826

December 16, 2013 at 3:53 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Tamoria
Member
Posts: 234

Yooooo, this is so great! First of all, that was just such a fun update, especially the bit that you might call Hrothstuck if that didn't sound stupid. And man, what a great dragon fight! The description of the effects of Histskin were really pretty, and of course what was actually going on was certifiably badass.


Poor Irileth. I have to admit I've made a habit of testing out the Voice on her, too.

--


December 16, 2013 at 4:32 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Crimson DESTR0YA
Administrator
Posts: 1888

Oh my god, X, this might be your best work ever. The whole dragon fight and the interlude with Arngeir, and Tam's right, the Histskin part was just perfect. What you have here is a perfect blend of Skyrim's beauty and grandeur with all of Prequel's humor. Deekin is undeniably my favorite magical lizard man ever.


>Return to Dragonsreach

>Take all the credits

>While you're at the palace, above all else, try not to make a... FUSs!


--

The destructor has gone

December 16, 2013 at 5:03 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Xelakian
Member
Posts: 486

>Return to Dragonsreach.
You leave the scene of the dracocide, heading back to Whiterun. As you approach the gates, thunder issues forth from the heavens and a Voice calls out to you.

DOV



AH



KIIN


The storm subsides, and you find yourself wondering what just happened. You hurry back to Dragonsreach. Inside, everyone is gathered at the back balcony, looking up at the sky.

>Take all the credits.
The Jarl doesn't notice you walk up behind him. He's distracted by the loud noises that just happened, prattling on and on about grey beards. Argonians can't grow beards, so you ignore his obviously insane ramblings, telling him that you killed the dragon, and are expecting a reward. He says sure, sure, but did something...strange happen? Yeah, you say, it burst into flames and you breathed in a bunch of smoke. Then the guards started calling you Dragonborn or whatever, something about eating dragon souls or something, even though you're pretty sure you haven't eaten anything since last night at the Inn. Now that you think about it, you are pretty hungry.

Balgruuf has a look of shock on his face. He is finding it hard to believe that you are the Dragonborn, despite the Greybeards summon.

>While you're at the palace, above all else, try not to make a...FUSs!
Fine, then. The Jarl wants proof. You are getting real tired of his shit. You've just slain a dragon. You nearly died three times in the last hour or so. You have eaten the soul of Mirmulnir, the Hunter, and have learned how to harness the power of Thu'um. You are Deekin Histskinned, Dragonborn, and it's about damn time you were shown the proper respect. You Shout at the Jarl. He is knocked to the ground, his face locked in stunned realization. He hurriedly declares you Thane of the city, grants you the Axe of Whiterun and introduces you to Lydia, your own personal Housecarl.

>Enjoy the spoils of victory.
The Axe is enchanted with a spell of soul trap, allowing you a near infinite supply of filled soul gems, provided you have the gems in the first place. Interesting.

Lydia on the other hand is a sarcastic pain in your ass. A warrior by trade and training, she had hoped to join the Companions and be a legendary hero, not the bodyguard to a scaly apprentice way further North than he has any right to be. Fine then. You make her carry your shit until you can find somebody to buy it or find something useful to do with it.

>Where to now?
Balgruuf informs you before you leave Dragonsreach that that Shout the rattled the heavens a little while ago must have been the Greybeards summoning you to High Hrothgar. He strongly urges you to do so, as they may hold the secrets to unlocking more of your power. Seems logical. Without further ado, you head for the 7,000 Steps in Ivarstead with Lydia begrudgingly by your side.

The path to Ivarstead is long. On your first day, you are waylaid by bandits who have taken over the Valtheim Towers. They demanded a toll from you. You paid them in flames. As they began rushing you from the tower, Lydia armed herself with her sword and shield and fought them back to the narrow bridge overlooking the White River far below. With the aid of your fire, the first few bandits are reduced to charred corpses that fall into the drink. Another bandit charges at you from across the bridge, a Redguard, wielding a sickly green, jagged hand axe. It rips through your leather armor and scales with ease, nearly disemboweling you. You Shout, forcing him away from you, giving you the opportunity you need to heal your wound. Lydia steps in, blocking his blows long enough for you to stop the bleeding. You cast Devouring Swarm, the insects destroying his armor in a matter of seconds, following it up with Flames, setting the berserker ablaze. He continues attacking, his rage redirected back to you. He pushes Lydia aside, raises his axe above his head and charges at you. You are out of Magicka. As the axe comes down, you steer it off course with your left arm, grasping his neck in your right hand. The bandit begins flailing his axe around and stops as Lydia's sword stabs through his chest, its sharpened, bloody tip inches away from your own chest. You drop him as Lydia pulls the blade back out. A moment later, an arrow hits the bridge a little in front of you. Lydia pulls out her bow and takes aim at the last remaining bandit, atop the tower on the opposite end of the bridge. As your Magicka begins returning, you heal yourself the rest of the way before charging past Lydia, Flames in your hand and in your eyes. That thing about killing all the other highwaymen of this hold and becoming the greatest one? That hasn't stopped being a thing yet. And you're gettting really tired of bleeding. As you approach, the bandit drops the bow, obviously terrified out of his mind at the lizardman barreling down at him with two fistfuls of fire. As you get within arms reach, he decides to jump into the river instead of trying to fight. A wise decision.

As you and Lydia make accomadations to sleep here for the night, you examine the strange green axe the leader had. Lydia identifies it as Orcish make, crafted from Orichalcum, a relatively strong, heavy metal. She goes on to explain that the weapons, though crude looking, are actually designed to rip through armor and leave wicked cuts. They're more effective than Iron and even Steel weapons, but nowhere near the quality of Dwarven or Elven weapons. However, where Orcs really excel is in armor smithing...

...she carries on like this for another couple of hours before you finally decide to give her the stupid axe.

>Continue on to Ivarstead.

--

Friend Code: 1006-1639-8826

December 17, 2013 at 10:57 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Tamoria
Member
Posts: 234

Great update as always! I've been meaning to ask, are you using mods or anything? Some of the spells/potions you've mentioned aren't familiar to me, but on the other hand I pretty much stick to healing and setting things on fire so


>Ignore constant remarks of "I am SWORN to carry your burdens."

--


December 18, 2013 at 8:40 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Xelakian
Member
Posts: 486

Yeah, I play a fairly heavily modded version. Mostly lore-friendly and stuff that doesn't change too much of the core gameplay.

--

Friend Code: 1006-1639-8826

December 18, 2013 at 9:11 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Crimson DESTR0YA
Administrator
Posts: 1888

Aw, be nice to Lydia. I actually like her. Of course it doesn't hurt that at least in my version of the game her line about carrying burdens was patched out.

--

The destructor has gone

December 18, 2013 at 9:46 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Cecil-Jacobs
Member
Posts: 739

This is pretty good X, my love for Skyrim has been rekindled!

--

Ask me about my waifus

"I'm happy to report that my inner child is still ageless". James Broughton

December 19, 2013 at 5:43 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Xelakian
Member
Posts: 486

>Continue on to Ivarstead.
You continue on your many day journey, fighting off wolves, bears and even sabre cats with Lydia's aid. All the while she teaches you what she knows of the finer points of combat, weapons, armor and even smithing, although with no forges available the last one is kind of a moot point. She also tells you of Skyrim, her homeland, and what dangers lurk in the extreme reaches: the blind Falmer of the depths, hidden in Dwemer ruins and armed with deadly poisons. Ice Wraiths in the frozen mountain slopes, nearly invisible to the naked eye until they sink their frozen fangs into you. Spriggans in the old forests, nature spirits that wield powerful magicks. And, of course, the Giants of the lowlands, strong enough to launch a foolish adventurer into the clouds with a single swing of their mighty club. You also tell her of your homes, of the beautiful, clear Thir River that runs through the city of Narsis, of the swamplands of the Deshaan Plains, teeming with life and home to more interesting flora than exist in all the rest of Tamriel, of the Kwama Egg Mines throughout the region that provided hearty meals to any willing to take an egg and risk the wrath of a Kwama Warrior, of the Daedric Temples, beautiful and terrifyingly alien in their design, but found everywhere, due in no small part to the return of the old Dunmeri traditions. Unfortunately, these don't interest her as much as they do you. Eventually, you reach Ivarstead, a small town at the foot of a mountain. You spend the next few nights here, preparing to scale the 7,000 steps. You use your furs to fashion a HEAVY BEARSKIN CLOAK and, with Lydia's help, replace your FINE LEATHER ARMOR that was eviscerated by that bandit the other day with WARCHIEF'S ARMOR, a combination of fur, leather and iron in strategic locations to maximize warmth, mobility and defense. In addition, Lydia purchases some Orichalcum Ingots and fashions you a pair of ORICHALCUM BRACERS, stating that they since you don't have a shield you should have something to protect your arms if someone decides to chop them off, which being a caster, seems likely.

After days of preparation, you begin to head up the mountain, to High Hrothgar.

>Ignore constant remarks of "I am SWORN to carry your burdens."
Yeah, it's getting pretty old. Everything you ask her to do, everything you give to her to carry, she always says the same thing. But, after the last couple of days of bonding and exchanging stories, you've grown accustommed to it. After all, she didn't choose the Housecarl Life. The Housecarl Life chose her.

>Deekin: Ascend
The 7,000 steps prove more challenging than you had expected. Night falls upon you and Lydia before you are even halfway up. You can't afford to stop for the night. With all the dangers on this treacherous mountain path, along with the blizzard that's been brewing, you're likely to be eaten or die from exposure should you make camp.

The snowstorm only worsens overnight. At times, you find yourself unable to see inches in front of you. Your fire magic helps, not only to clear a path through the storm, but also to keep your hands warm, if only for a little bit. As dawn breaks, the storm clears. By now you must be near the summit. You look ahead and see something on a nearby cliff. A white ape-like beast. It sniffs at the air, looks in your general direction, roars and leaps down. You ask Lydia what that thing is. She says trouble and to burn the bastard, drawing her weapon and charging in. The beast knocks her aside, heading straight for you. You set it aflame. It continues barreling towards you, unfazed. You begin backpedalling. It swings its long arm at you, knocking you to the ground. It stands above you, its three eyes staring you down as it roars once more. Its roar is cut short by Lydia's Orcish Axe chopping into its neck. As she pulls it out, you watch in horror as the wound closes and eventually disappears altogether. What is this thing. It turns around to deal with its new assailant, smashing her helmet in with one blow. As she falls to the ground, limp, all you can feel is rage. Your mind goes blank. You put your hands together and thrust them outwards, flames akin to Mirmulnirs breath emerging. The monster is set ablaze once more. After a few moments, all that remains is a charred husk and the acrid stink of burnt fat. You go over to Lydia. It's worse than you had imagined. You bury her in the snow, using her shield as a gravestone. You would have to continue the journey alone.

>Brevity is the soul of wit, and this method of storytelling is neither brief nor witty at the moment. Please, spare us the details, and let's get on with it.
Fine then, be that way.

Having met with the Greybeards and learnt RO, the second word of Unrelenting Force and WULD, the first word of Whirlwind Sprint, you ventured to Ustengrav to retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, only to find a mysterious note telling you to rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, stating that they have urgent business with you. While down there, you also find another strange wall covered in dragon speech. You read it, speaking the words but not knowing them.

Nonvul bron dahmaan daar rot do fin
fodiiz bormah-nii los heyv do enook
mun wah lahney voth ahkrin ahrk zin
leh rok feim vodahmin kotin vulom

Shortly after emerging, you find a fortress overrun by necromancers and skeletons. Upon slaying them, you help yourself to their library, discovering many new spells. Candlelight and Magelight, spells which spheres of light that follow you or stick to wherever you direct respectively. Dim Vision, which partially blinds a foe. Ghostwalk, allowing you to become as a ghost for a minute and see without being seen for a short time before waking up back where you cast it. Raise Zombie, of course, being a Necromancers Den. And Lightning Bolt, which throws a bolt of lightning at whatever you choose. Surely these spells would come in handy.

You return to Riverwood and go to the Sleeping Giant Inn, where you ask the barkeeps wife, Delphine, if you can rent the attic room. She looks at you suspiciously, telling you that there's no attic room, but you can rent a normal room. You agree, and she leads you to your room, shutting the door behind her. She confronts you, knowing already that you're the Dragonborn and that you're after the Horn. She hands it to you and asks you to follow her. She leads you back to her room, where she opens a false panel behind the wardrobe. Expressing paranoia of both the Greybeards being wrong and of Thalmor spies, you are led to a basement, the walls covered in weapons, armor and books of every subject. She asks you once more if you're Dragonborn, if you have the power to devour a dragons soul. After telling her you are, she shows you a map of Skyrim, explaining that the dragons aren't returning to Skyrim, they're being brought back from the dead. The map shows the locations of various dragon burial mounds, and the next one is near Kynesgrove. She changes into a set of old leather armor and asks you to follow her.

Days pass as you journey to Kynesgrove. Tired and bleary eyed, you approach the small village only to be stopped by a woman, claiming a dragon is attacking. You hurry to the top of the hill.

A black shadow descends...

>In another place...
You are the Ebon Knight. You have no other name. At least, not anymore. There are no tales that use it, your real name. Perhaps things would have been different, had King Helseth, fearing your silver tongue, not hired the Dark Brotherhood to cut it out. No, any text that speaks of you uses not your birth name, but the one that was supposedly your birthright.

They speak of you as the Nerevarine. But perhaps that is a tale for another place. For another time.

--

Friend Code: 1006-1639-8826

December 27, 2013 at 1:42 AM Flag Quote & Reply

Tamoria
Member
Posts: 234

Oh no, poor Lydia! I was really enjoying her being in this narration, too! Boy, that frost troll always gives me trouble though, I actually ended up climbing the mountains around it to avoid fighting it in my first playthrough. Glad to see Deekin got to avenge her, at least!


>Who is this mysterious person? Explain yourself!

--


January 2, 2014 at 3:59 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Xelakian
Member
Posts: 486

>Who is this mysterious person? Explain yourself!

Like you said before, you're the Nerevarine. Or, at least, that's what they say. There was this whole thing with a prophecy and apparently you're the reincarnation of some ancient Dunmer hero or something. You have your doubts though. It bugs you sometimes how much of it could have been contributed to sheer coincidence and the will of Azura. Of course, all that was over 200 years ago. By the Nine, you're old.


>So what have you been doing this whole time?

Oh a little of this, a bit of that. Explored Akavir during the whole Oblivion Crisis thing. Kinda glad you missed it. Unfortunately, you came back just in time for the Red Year, probably the most unpleasant experience imaginable. It turns out that when you take away divinity from irresponsible living gods, their past mistakes tend to catch up to them...and Vivec was by far the worst of the bunch. Not to even mention that the bastard wrote his teachings intentionally as confusing as possible. At least he gave you somewhat straight answers when you spoke to him directly.


>Why are you here?

The war, duh. You participated in a few here and there, partially because you decided to take your role of Protector of Morrowind seriously after Red Mountain's eruption. Of course, you're not here to take the side of the Empire or the Stormcloaks. You're here to protect the common people.


And now there are dragons too, so it looks like your job description just got that much harder.


>What are you doing?

Right now you're hiking the mountains between Windhelm and Whiterun. It's pretty obvious that Whiterun is likely the Stormcloaks next target, and it's easiest to see the lay of the land from up here. Except this is probably one of the worst mountain paths you've ever been on. It really hardly even qualifies as a path. And despite that, up ahead is what appears to be an elaborate gravestone with a sarcophagus  laying out in front of it. Curious, you approach, only for the top of the sarcophagus to burst upwards, and a skeletal, robed, masked figure emerge, floating out of its grave. You draw your scimitar, Trueflame, and slash at the undead, the blade erupting into arcane fire as it makes contact. The undead levitates away from you, its ethereal robes ablaze. It points a golden staff shaped like a dragon at you. You raise your ebony shield, fire exploding just in front of you. You advance, undeterred, until the skeletal figure is floating outside of your reach, overlooking a massive drop. Smiling to yourself, you sheathe Trueflame and leap at the undead, grabbing ahold of it with both hands. Unable to continue levitating with the added weight of your ebony armor, you both plummet. You wrestle the staff away from your assailant and throw it aside. With impact imminent, you brace yourself.


You reach the bottom. The undead is still once more. You are hurt, but not severely. Between your armor, the effects of Corprus and the undead breaking your fall, this is nothing. Well, almost nothing. Your armor's in bad shape. A shame too, as ebony is rare and expensive. Even moreso as it means you can't use it to make Daedric armor now. In hindsight, you wish you had had Divayth Fyr do it for you, back when he was alive. You pick yourself up and begin taking off the broken pieces. You hear a roar from above. You look up and see a dragon diving towards you.

--

Friend Code: 1006-1639-8826

January 4, 2014 at 5:57 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Cecil-Jacobs
Member
Posts: 739

(I just finally killed this guy for the first time, man was he difficult. I didn't realize he was Nerevarine and now I feel awful about offing him.)

>Pick up the Dragon Priest's staff and attack the dragon!

--

Ask me about my waifus

"I'm happy to report that my inner child is still ageless". James Broughton

January 6, 2014 at 8:20 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Xelakian
Member
Posts: 486

(If you mean the Ebony Warrior, partially inspired by him, although I lack either expansion. Also inspired by how Daedric Armor is crafted, how it's basically Ebony with the addition of a Daedra Heart. Judging from some other things I've read, I also think that a ritual would be involved of some sort, which, due to his lack of a tongue, is made significantly more difficult.)

--

Friend Code: 1006-1639-8826

January 6, 2014 at 9:26 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Crimson DESTR0YA
Administrator
Posts: 1888

And now I'm caught up on this, too! But man, that's a bummer about Lydia, I loved how you wrote her in and I was looking forward to seeing a lot more of that! If anyone had to kill her though, it's that troll. Fuck that fucking troll.


By the way, since this seems to be a major interest of much of our userbase, I made TES its own category in the forums.

--

The destructor has gone

February 8, 2014 at 7:57 PM Flag Quote & Reply

Xelakian
Member
Posts: 486

>Pick up the Dragon Priest's staff and attack the dragon!

You are once again Deekin, and very confused. There's not a priest for miles, that you know of, and you doubt their staves could assist you in dealing with the highly intimidating, jet black dragon that just landed in front of you. You took cover behind a large rock, and are currently watching in awe as the dragon Shouts at the grave, the stones crumbling, revealing a draconic skeleton which rises up out of the hole.

"Sahloknir, ziil gro dovah ulse! Slen tiid vo!" Ash and dust rushes towards the skeleton, coalescing into muscle, skin, scales. The newly reincarnated dragon lowers its head and responds in kind.

"Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleyksejun kruziik?"

"Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir." The black dragon turns towards you, its fiery red eyes meeting yours. "Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi." A moment passes. The beast lets loose what you can only assume to be a chuckle. "You do not even know our tongue, do you? Such arrogance, to dare take for yourself the name of Dovah." It turns back to the reborn dragon before flying off. "Sahloknir, krii daar joorre."


And now the less scary of the two dragons is flying towards you and Delphine.

--

Friend Code: 1006-1639-8826

December 6, 2014 at 2:02 AM Flag Quote & Reply

Crimson DESTR0YA
Administrator
Posts: 1888

Look, it's basically a lizard, and you're basically a lizard; surely you can work something out!

>Attempt conversation by breaking ice with well-known lizard colloquialism

--

The destructor has gone

December 6, 2014 at 2:40 AM Flag Quote & Reply

Tamoria
Member
Posts: 234

Of course, it is also a much bigger lizard...

>Failing that, attempt to break the dragon with ice

--


December 7, 2014 at 2:21 AM Flag Quote & Reply

Vesicant Lemur
Member
Posts: 98

When was the last time you talked your way out of a fight with a dragon?

>Eat his soul

I'm gonna have to catch up on this epic. Your writing is great man!

--

Life is Absurd. Chill out. Don't give a fuck.

December 8, 2014 at 5:10 PM Flag Quote & Reply

You must login to post.

Recent Videos

186 views - 0 comments
184 views - 1 comment
244 views - 4 comments
207 views - 0 comments