TWHLder Scrolls: Skyrim Created 11 years ago2013-08-14 17:37:47 UTC by monster_urby

Go on then. I'll make my return official and put up a new thread that nobody will care about and that I will likely lose interest in before too long.

Another one of my silly little ideas for people who like reading nonsense posts.

I will play Skyrim and keep a note of my journey. To get me started, you guys can pick a race and come up with some ideas for making money that doesn't necessarily resort to questing. (Some of you may recall a little guy called beggar Bob who I tried to make a living with while avoiding all straight up combat.)

Races to choose from

Argonian - Lizard man
Khajiit - Cat man
Imperial - Political talky man
Elf - Pointy man
High elf - Snobby pointy man
Dark elf - Scary pointy man
Breton - Wizard man
Nord - Man man
Orc - Beefy fuckin' strong man
Redguard - Black man

An Argonian that makes money from squeezing peoples nipples. Make a mod for it noaw.

I don't think Skyrim is that open ended. However, it saddens me that such a mod probably already exists.

I made it. Nah, just get rich from looting the invisible chest in Dawnstar, just to the left of the mining shaft.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k_fIm2_by7E

I also agree with lizard man.
Can you craft and such in that game?
Craft and sell man

Be a snobby pointy man blacksmith.
I have yet to play a TES game as a snobby pointy man.

I really feel like someone should really be calling him out on how dickish it is to create a leaving thread then just pop back. Honestly, I'd normally do it but I work far too much to keep up my Urby abuse quota. If someone wants to step up, that'd be hugely appreciated.

You ought to make a giant, burly Orc whose very screams frighten the hallows who makes a living by picking flowers and chasing butterflies to sell them to the local pawn shop in exchange for some sweet rolls.

BUT I MISSED YOU TWO SO

Also, Cat Man that hunts mice. Or the relevant equivalent.

I really feel like someone should really be calling him out on how dickish it is to create a leaving thread then just pop back.

URBY HOW COULD YOU MAKE A LEAVING THREAD AND LEAVE US ALL ALONE THINGS WERE SO UNHUMOROUS WITHOUT YOU AROUND TO CRACK JOKES also welcome back.

Like that?

Archie, it seems that you're the only one who has a problem and keeps bitching about it.

Man up dude!

Edit: On second thought, making gold by a single proffession will be dull as hell. I'll stick with the tried and tested method of "Anything goes" in a rags to riches style. Foraging, crafting, mugging, anything.

So, starting out in rags, I'll still take suggestions for a race and general persoanlity.

I like my Orc idea. The Orc's strong persoanlity would be funny mixed with his hobby of chasing butterflies and skipping through the wilderness for sweets. That fits the rags quota.

Alright, so I went with an Imperial because they're skill is talking and not fighting so I thought it would make things a little more interesting / funny. I also used a mod called random start which will plonk you down in any one of 400+ random locations with the gear of your choice. I went with "No Gear" as I will be playing a hobo. Also, you can rest assured that in light of using this mod, the first sentence of this first entry was actually uttered out loud in real life...

And so begins the adventures of Ragged Red, the Imperial beggar, lost in Skyrim. Enjoy.

“Where the pissing hell am I!?” I wake to the sound of a roaring wind while my skin is battered by freezing snow. I must have been wasted last night. I am wearing nothing but rags and a couple of cloth footwraps and I have absolutely nothing on me.I turn to face the cave behind me, which I manage to identify using my unrivaled hobo clairvoyance as Bonechill Passage. Given that this is the most immediate form of shelter available to me and that my bones will likely be chilled if I stayed out here anyway, I step inside.Oh joy! The place is littered with bones and dare I say they’re looking a might chilly. My instincts pay off however, in that I immediately come across a coin purse containing 17 septims. Nice! Then, a pair of hardy leather boots not 3 feet away. Excellent! Then, a massive fucking wolf! SHIT!

He actually doesn’t put up much of a fight. It might be that he’s full up on the previous owners of all these bones. Or, it could be that he was simply not expecting much out of some bewildered, aged hobo who just wandered into a cave full of bones and ice.I continue my journey into the frozen cavern and find another poor soul who has been liberated of all his limbs.In his knapsack I find a tunic, some shoes and a couple of books. I quickly scan through both books and the second gives me a little bit of experience in “Heavy Armour.” I literally scanned through it in less than I second so I can’t have learned much more than the fact that “Heavy Armour” is armour that is heavy. I also find a steel mace with which to defend myself and a couple of healing potions for the worse case scenario, although I would prefer not to run into any more wolves.

As I round the next bend, I run into a wolf.This one is a considerable larger “Ice wolf” and this one certainly provides more of a challenge. I flail my mace around like a madman, landing a couple of good hits and feeling pretty good about the way this is going, then the wolf closes it’s jaws around my arm.

“ARGH! FUCK!”

One bite from this thing and my health bar drops to a worrying amount. I take a couple more swings and the wolf retreats for a second to reconsider his tactics. I assume that involves deciding on another body part to bite. That suits me just fine and I chug down a healing potion just as he charges back in. I raise my mace as he leaps into the air and... THUD The wolf flops to the ground with a dirty great dent in it’s skull.Well shit, I’ve only just got through my second fight and already I’ve been in danger of dying. Maybe it’s a better idea if I pop on this tunic and brave the snow as I head to the nearest town. I’ve manage to scrounge a few items which I can sell and while it’s not going to be enough to net me a house any time soon, it’s a start.

Great start! Who's ready to fight more wolves?

Brilliant as always.

bravo bravo!!!

Hey Urbles, you won't call me a rip-off and an untalented writer if I try and do something similar on TWHL, will you? I like the idea of writing a stories in video game worlds. Could be fun.

Hell, by that definition I'm ripping off Chris Livingston already. Go for it, I'd love to read your adventures.

Part 2

I don my new tunic, deciding to totally ignore the fact that I only recently acquired it from the backback of a dead man. With this on I’m already starting to look a little more civilised.Ok, so I actually just look like a hobo who stole a tunic from a dead man’s backpack but what the hell it’s an improvement. I step back out of the cave into the wilderness which is still largely concealed behind heavy flurries of snow. A quick peak at my map tells me that I’m not too far from one of Skyrim’s larger towns, Falkreath. I head west, hoping that I don’t run into anything more threatening that a rabbit or maybe a goat at a push.“Oh God damn it!” It seems the wolves of Skyrim are celebrating national chew-a-hobo day. Luckily, this is just one of your run of the mill, soft squishy skulled wolves and he is dispatched with a single gut wrenching crack to the bonce. I skin it and take the pelt, something else I can try and flog for coin in town. I’m sure the locals would be fine with a deranged, blood-soaked homeless man dumping a heap of mangled dog fluff on their counter and demanding money in return.

It’s beginning to get dark when I stumble upon a small, wooden shack with a free bed and a chest containing 4 lockpicks and 50 septims. Score. I pocket the loot and curl up on the flimsy wooden bed frame and get a few hours of sleep.Upon awakening at around 8am, I look around the shack and notice a couple of things the darkness had concealed the night before. A silver amulet and a note are set down on the small chest of drawers in the corner. I pocket the amulet and give the note a wee look.That’s a little concerning. Still, nothing to report on my end overnight so I guess the dragon must have moved on. I step outside into the morning air, take a deep breath, and then choke on the smell of burning flesh. To my horror, it seems that the darkness was hiding something else out here last night before I decided to hunker down in this “abandoned” shack. The previous occupants.The next couple of minutes, sprinting downhill, are kind of a blur. A couple of wolves howl somewhere to my right, I ignore them. I pass under a wooden structure without so much as a backward glance. Then I realise I’ve gained somebody else's attention. That or the wolves have taken up archery just to make my life more difficult. (Note the arrow just falling short behind me... yikes)I topple over a previously unnoticed waterfall while frantically looking around for my pursuers, landing hard in a shallow pool. I scramble up the bank, out of the water, and notice another figure running towards me. I wait for him to reach me since he has had the good grace not to try and kill me yet.

"Hand over your valuables" he demands...Oh for fu-... I go with the safest and most obvious choice. “Do I look like I have any money?” I can honestly say, I wasn’t prepared for this Khajiit’s response.

“Actually, yes. You look like you are lousy with gold.”

Man, fuck this tunic! I should have kept my damn rags. I’m back to sprinting downhill, occasionally sidestepping a torrent of daggers and fur, when I see Falkreath up ahead.I’m home free! Although with the luck I’ve had so far I wouldn’t be surprised if the guards tackle me to the floor and order me to apologise to the Khajiit bandit for making him tired or something. As it happens, passing through the gates of a guarded city has forced him to reconsider his attempt to murder me for my dapper tunic. Nevertheless I still run all the way into the center of the town. I stop to catch my breath when a local hard-ass walks over to me. “Strangers like you bring the war to Falkreath. I’ve seen enough war.” then he walks away.Dude, don’t even get me fucking started...

I figured I'd add my Skyrim story here, too, rather than spam the forum with more threads. Hope you don't mind, Urby.

And so begins the adventures of Eresek Rurokin, the Nordic necromancer, lost in Skyrim.I remember the first day I went to the College in Winterhold. I was only a teenager when they let me in. To get into that place, especially at teenhood, you had to jump through a lot of hoops and making enough impressive animal impressions. But that was back several years ago. Nowadays, they'll let any asshole who can cast a simple healing spell in through the front doors. But anyways, they finally pulled me out of that horrible orphanage a couple capitals over and gave me a cozy dorm room, next to the most beautiful Nordic woman I've ever met: Saldia. It's such a shame that five years later I'd have gotten kicked out for pushing her off the side of the College.It's not like I meant to push her. It was cold out, so obviously I made a little fireball to keep us warm as we walked along the pathway. It's just a shame that my professor never taught me how to keep it from exploding out like a dragon's breath. It's also quite the shame that she was standing on the part of the slim bridge which was utterly ruined when a dragon landed there to have a rowdy chat with one of our professors.

So, here I am on the streets of Winterhold, finally figuring out how to use these simply fire spells to keep myself warm the correct way.I finally found the trick to keeping my fireballs under control. All I had to do was keep a lot of restraint on my arms and keep myself from breathing too quickly and letting loose all of the magical energy building up inside of me. I wish my damned professors would tell me that before I sent a beautiful Nord flying off a bridge into ice shards and twisted rock. I blame the architect for this. What kind of bastard builds a slim bridge fifty miles into the air? She probably suffocated to death before she finally hit the ground.

Anyways, news tends to fly around Skyrim as if the Divines themselves gossiped with the city guards. One of the guards patrolling decided to give me shit for the murder and made me pay her a fine."By the way," she added, "you ought to stop playing with those fires. If I catch you casting your silly magic spells again, I'll slay you myself. I'm not afraid of necromancers."

Well, now that she extorted every last septim from my wallet, I have no way of getting home to Riften or even to a single other Hold. I could walk, but it was late at night, and I would freeze even with my simple magicks to keep me warm. But then I remembered the one useful thing I got from the College--the ability to control the will of the weak!"Why, of course!" says the innkeeper, whom I caught conversation with while he was busy cleaning up the front bar. "You can have this room for free, nobody ever uses it. By the way, I totally understand your dilemma. That bridge was a total piece of shit. Glad I've never had to walk it."

So now I have a room, and the inn also has a small library wing built into it. I decide to search around and find a whole collection of brilliant books and novels, all of them books I was forbidden from reading at the College until I finally learned how to make a ward that could protect from old-style dragon shouts from the reanimated souls of the damned or something.Eventually, I realize it's time to go to bed, and I drift away into the wondrous realm of sleep. In the morning, I'll be up and ready to start hiking to Riften.

Good start. Yours is definitely more of a story than mine.

Also, you could have just made your own thread. I'm sure TWHL can handle at least one more.

Bah, too late now. Let's make this the TWHLder Scrolls Story Thread, rather than two separate ones.

Part 2Morning has arisen, and the sun can almost be seen through the haze of fog and snow. The temperature has risen only slightly since last night, but I suppose it's good enough and head out on the mighty road to see where it takes me. It's hard to check my map through all of the raging winds and unbelievable weather, so I head in a direction I hope is correct.I find a guard about half a mile away from Winterhold, and he seems pretty lost from home, the poor thing. Either I'm the greatest magical genius who ever lived, or this guard was too stupid to follow the linear road back home. I had to point him in the right direction, only to watch him walk the opposite direction, and then fall off a hillside. I run down to help the guy and I turns out he's blind. Well, I feel like an asshole. Especially since I left him lying there in the hillside. It's not like it's my problem or anything, I've got shit to do.Karma really has bitten me in the ass. The road sort of disappeared, and started to drift into bandit territory, so I figured I'd take a little detour up the rocky hillsides to avoid them. But now, I can't seem to find the road, and my vision has gone blurry. My skin's gone red and numb, and I stumble more and more as the snow gets thicker and thicker.For Talos' sake, where the hell am I . . .

I guess I'll just turn around and, oh . . .Woah - woahp! Ah, shit, shit, shit! Agh! Oogh! Eegh! Ah, oh . . . I think I'm sa-- oh augh, ook, ow ow ow ow ow ow! Agh, shit!

So here I lay, motionless for many minutes, in a pile of snow. I can't even feel my limbs anymore, nor do I feel like I can control them. Besides, I just need a rest for a minute. I just need a drink of . . . and I'm out of potions. Somehow, I manage to cast myself a fireball for warmth, and wander my way out of the tundra towards the nearest settlement.I find myself at the port of Windhelm. I don't remember the place very well, but as soon as I climb onto the port, one of the guards dashes over to me and puts himself in an authoritative stance.

"Don't think I don't know you!" he shouts at me. "You're a wanted criminal, and it's time that you paid for your actions!"

"You really have a bounty on me?" I sigh, dusting the snow off my tattered robes of alteration and finally gaining enough feeling to notice that half of the items in my knapsack have either shattered or fallen out. "How much?"

"6,000 septims," he tells me.Now . . . now I think I remember. The end of the first semester at the College of Winterhold--about four years ago--some of my friends decided to come down to Winterhold to get really drunk. I don't know what was in my drink, but the last think I remember was I suddenly got a lot hairier . . . and bigger . . . and . . .

Shit. I've gotta get out of this prison.

The misadventures continue!

Ragged Red
Part 3

So I’ve been in Falkreath for all of one minute and one to the locals has already told me to piss off essentially. What a nice place.

I walk a little further into town and find Grey Pine Goods, the general store. Great. Maybe I can offload some of this crap I’ve been carrying around… uhm… I mean, trade some of this fine merchandise I have aquired in my travels. “Got something for just about everybody in here” says Solaf, the shopkeeper. I wonder if that covers red-eyed homeless dudes hauling around various dead animal parts.

It does, as it turns out. In the end however, I decide to hold on to my pelts. If I can find a smithy were I can craft them into some fancy leather duds then they might be worth a few more coins. After selling a tomato, a goat leg and the dead couple’s necklace, I’m sitting at 123 Gold. Not a bad start. I browse his wares but decide I can save a few pennies by trying my hand at the forge. If I sell or use what I create, I’d be considerably better off, in theory. The transaction complete, Solaf signs off with “If you steal anything from my shop and you’ll regret it.”Nice man. Not ten seconds ago he mentioned he was far more tolerant of strangers that his brother. I wonder if he is the meathead who greeted me outside earlier.

I leave the store and begin my search for the blacksmith’s place. Then my search ends as it is right next door. How convenient. As it turns out however, I had less than I realised in terms of animal pelts. After creating a couple of sheets of leather at the tanning rack and then producing some strips with one piece, I only have enough left over to make some bracers. Still, it’s a start.I decide that in order to improve what I learn, I’m going to need more pelts, so I’m off to hunt. But to hunt, I need a bow. I check with Lod, the blacksmith but the hunting bows he’s selling are 155 septims which is just over my price range. I could sell my mace, but I’d rather keep it handy in case I run into that thief again. Not to fight with, but maybe he’d accept it as a bribe of sorts, rather than trying to carve me into hobo-mince again.

It seems I’m going to need to find some other way to scrounge together the gold I need. Then I remember:Herbs! Or rather, weeds! If Solaf at the general goods store is telling the truth with his whole “something for everyone” policy, he should be more than willing to pay me for ripping up the weeds from people gardens and taking them a few feet to his shop counter.

While I’m plucking all sorts of plant out of the ground, I stumble into a graveyard where some kind of ceremony is going on. I don’t really care, this place is littered with Nightshade! Jackpot. I bump into a man named Mathias.Apparently this is a funeral for his daughter who was ripped apart by some crazy guy in down. That’s cool. You gonna eat those flowers? He’s still staring at me as I rummage through a nearby rockery for mushrooms. I continue back up the hill, plucking everything that I pass, until I reach a small farm. It’s Mathias’ place and he’s just getting back from the service I barged in on. Eager to help him harvest his crops (and sell them back to him) I barge into his garden and tip over his cart, sending cabbages flying all over the place and pelting a nearby cow who just stands there looking all bewildered and cow-like.Sure enough, I pick up the cabbages, harvest the ones still in the ground, then rip up the potato plants and some gourds. Then I head back over the Mathias and sure enough, “Honest pay for honest work.” The guy hands me about 50 septims in total for pulling up all of his crops. Wow. Maybe the brutal murder of his daughter has made him drop a few IQ points.I can already afford the bow I wanted, but I need arrows too and I’m eager to show Solaf all the flowers I found in the cemetery (but not before I steal all the eggs from Mathias chickens.)

Bursting through the door, I shove all manner of mushrooms and weeds into Solaf’s hands and the bewildered nord throws plenty of gold my way. Finally I’m standing at 224 septims. I don’t really need the bow I was saving up for, but I can only imagine what these idiots would pay for something I actually crafted, rather than pulled out of the ground. Hell, in Mathias’ case it was his own damn crops in his own damn ground. As I leave the shop, I say a silent prayer for the nine divines.

“Thank the Gods. Thank the Gods for this town of absolute fucking morons.”

Haha.

The big difference between our stories is that yours is retelling the actions in your game and pointing out Skyrim's horrible AI, and mine is all completely made up.

Indeed. Both angles work fine.

Bravo!

The one thing that bothers me about the farm system is that you can't sell all the crops in one go, you have to do it by type.

"Honest pay for honest work.
Honest pay for honest work.
Honest pay for honest work.
Honest pay for hon-"*SPLUNK* thud