C48 Grandpappy

Thinking that, I tuck in my night roll and rest the body that's slowly deteriorating.

— — —

"Huff—huff—huff."

"My dude—why'd you ignore leg day, huh," I ask the person who no longer exists.

Stopping my 'exercise,' I turn around and look down at the now tiny village of Riverwood.

I'm currently climbing my way up to Bleak Falls Barrow.

While not much compared to the Throat of the World, it's still a proper mountain, not the Sunday picnic spot from the game.

Letting out a large exhale, I start climbing the half-broken steps once again.

Before leaving, I bought some fur armor and more arrows from the smith.

I didn't buy anything else—because I couldn't—and there are already people with my supplies at Bleak Falls.

'I just have to ask for 'my' stuff back; that should work.'

I start seeing the snow-covered megalithic structures up ahead, along with some bandits.

'If it doesn't, then I'll ask—politely.'

Nearing the top, the wind gets stronger, and the snow gets deeper.

Eventually, I see someone—with a bow.

"Hi, there!" I say.

Then an arrow goes by my head.

'Guess I'll have to show them my best of manners...'

—

"This is a—"

I've killed all but two of the bandits.

"Argh! Damn you!"

The bandit leader's missing both legs and an arm; they're all cauterized.

"As I was saying, these are the Phalanges, but the five up here are called the Metacarpus; and—"

-Twist-

I'm currently filleting the only hand he has left.

-Crack-

"Aaargh!"

"This is what happens if you remove them."

"Just kill m—"

"A hand flower~" I show his splayed-out hand to him before severing it halfway down the wrist.

Ignoring the screaming asshole-who-didn't-give-me-my-stuff-back, I walk to the last survivor.

She's frozen in fear and missing her feet.

'Manners must be shown to a lady.'

Bowing to her, I say, "For you, Madam," and present her the 'flower.'

"—AAAH!"

'A lady, you are not.'

"Oh, shut up, you smelly cum bandit," before she can make more noise, I pierce 'my' steel sword through the roof of her skull.

Then, I kneel while holding the handle, giving the dead lady a knowing look, "We both know what your real job in this gang was. Yeah?"

Taking my sword out, her head droops down, like she's nodding, "Thought so."

Getting up, I start searching for anything useful.

I'm currently in the entrance area of the ancient tomb; it's out of the weather but's still cold, not that my nord body cares.

Once done, I have a nice war axe and sword, some more arrows, and—that's it.

"These bastards must've sold all my good sh—oh, wait—I've got this nice pack too; it almost looks brand new."

I stop the bad play-acting and recheck my gear, then descend the crypt.

All I find are cobwebs, empty urns, a guy who killed himself trying to solve a simple puzzle, and BIG ass rats.

"This isn't the clubhouse, and I don't have any cheese," I do, but—why in oblivion would I give them any.

Soon enough, I find a room with cobwebs everywhere.

'This is definitely what I think it is.'

Before entering, I drink a Magicka potion; I'm hoping it'll keep me from falling apart, as the next foe will take a lot of flames to kill.

'Could I smash its face in; yes. Am I going to; fuuuuck no!'

Cutting open the web that's blocking the entrance, I go in with both hands lit up.

Ignoring the dark elf in a web cocoon, I look a the massive spider that's taller than me, falling from the ceiling.

Once in range, I shoot a stream of condensed fire, as thick as a finger, at its legs on one side.

It's enough to make two legs useless, but it also makes it angry, as the spider didn't bother with long-range attacks and rushed straight for me.

Spewing more flames at its face, I take a couple of eyes before it reaches me.

I dodge but still get hit by a leg that throws me several feet.

"Fuck," landing in between the dunmer and spider, I decide to push my body further and use more extreme flames.

"Die, you eight-eyed horker!" I let out a fist thick stream of fire at the spider.

It burned a hole through it in no more than a second and then started melting the wall a dozen feet behind.

I quickly stop, "How the—that went to a hundred real quick."

Looking down at my arms covered in cracks and slowly mending, I think, 'Hmm, the speed is a bit slower than last time; I'll have to dial in my precision for if—when—I do that again.'

Standing up, I look behind me at the wide-eyed dunmer; his eyes get even wider seeing my arms.

I examine him for a second, then glance back at the spider as a little smirk appears on my face.

—

'Shitty poison; can't even kill a restrained dunmer after a full minute.'

"Dagon's eyes, you'll pay for—"

I pierce his throat, finally ending him, then cut him down and take the Golden Claw off of him.

After making sure I'm still in one piece, I continue.

—

There's finally some gold and gems in the urns now, but the draugrs don't like it when I 'borrow' them.

I'm quiet enough to not wake them, but as soon as I loot something, they all group up on me like dogs to peanut butter.

Like right now.

I chop off one's head, kick a second against a wall, and then throw my axe at a third's forehead.

After that, I go to the second and plunge my sword through his helmet's opening, directly after which I'm forced against the wall by a shout from another that just came from around a corner.

"Qiilaan us dilon!" (Bow before the dead!)

"Well, fuck you too!"

I try taking my sword from the second's skull, but it's stuck, so I just take his helmet and run at the fourth.

"Did grandpappy get up on the wrong side of the Era, or something?!"

He swings his battle axe from the top, but I dodge to the side and tackle him.

After which, I—

-Bash-

"Got a—"

-Bash-

"headache?"

-Thud-

"Want some—"

-Squish-

"aspirin?"

-Slosh-

"Well, I—" I throw away the dented helmet and get up, breathing heavily, "don't have any."

While gathering my weapons, I notice something, 'How do they even have brain mat—duh—magic. Ancient nords were really good at necromancy.'

Looking at the downed draugr, I notice that their armor is surprisingly nice, even after thousands of years.

I would loot it, but their mummified skin is fused to it, and it'd be gross to wear.

After resting for a few minutes, I continue.

—

'Finally made it," I think while looking at the Golden Claw's puzzle door.

I only had to fight through a few dozen more draugr; a couple even knew how to shout like the last guy.

Hearing them, the Dragonborn part of me trembled a bit, but it wasn't enough to learn anything.

But—to me—being Dragonborn isn't worth much anyway.

The blessing can't change my soul to that of a dragon's, nor can it make me think like a dragon, and thus, natural to learn shouts.

'I can just absorb a dragon soul and get much greater benefits anyway; even without one, I'm a genius and could figure it out in little time.'

Solving the stupidly simple riddle, I input the claw and turn the lock—it takes two minutes for the door to lower.

Going in, I see the waterfalls and word wall up ahead.

First, I go to the wall and see if anything will happen.

No weird lights, but I do feel an attraction to certain symbols.

Being Dragonborn can't change how I think, but I do feel the direction it's trying to guide me in, so it's not completely useless.

'It'd be nice if I knew what the symbols actually meant... I'll just wait till I kill a dragon.'

Turning around, I go to the coffin that's yet to pop open.

I frown and kick it, "Come on, open up!"

'In the game, it popped open after getting the w—'

-Clack-

'Lag... Is Todd Howard here too?'

Shaking myself from my thought, I look at the decrepit old thing crawling out of the coffin, 'And you're still slow as fuck.'

Then, before he can shout—and get to his feet—I run my sword through his mouth and out the back of his head.

I sigh, 'I hope this isn't the strongest they come...'

Picking up the Dragonstone from the coffin, I wrap it up in leather and put it in my pack, the place I've been putting everything.

After that, I loot anything of value and leave through the back exit.

'I'm glad one thing wasn't like the game because I be rich now!'

"Heh, heh, heh."

— —

"Whatcha doing, Big Guy?"

'Can't believe I actually got here before them.'

-BANG-

I dodge a giant club with relative ease.

"Did these farmers do something to your mammoth?" I look at a few farmers who've gathered at the side of a windmill.

-Woosh-

I duck under the giant's hand.

"Don't know how to talk or something?" I look back up at him.

-Thud-

That was his foot.

"Rah!"

The giant stopped trying to kill me and stares at me, breathing heavily, "Give Moo—go away."

I blink, 'Wait, weren't these guys supposed to be peaceful; this one sounds like a neighborhood bully demanding protection fees.'

"Oh—so you're that kind of giant. Here I thought you'd be one of the nice ones."

I unsheathe my sword that's practically broken at this point, "Come on then, you Skeever-Scat, let's dance."

"Raah!"

He didn't like my provocation and tried crushing me again.

Once his club hit the ground, I cut at his wrist, severing the tendons.

He drops the club but doesn't seem to know why as he's yet to feel the pain.

Not caring anymore, he swings his other arm at me.

I dodge and swing at his hand, drawing blood.

He doesn't like that and decides to stomp at me instead.

Avoiding it, I use this chance to get behind him while he's unbalanced and make a deep cut on the back of one of his ankles.

"Argh"

'Looks like the pain's registering now.'

Turning around clumsily, he tries stomping again but losses balance and falls to a knee.

Seeing this, I take my axe and throw it as hard as I can at his face.

He raises his arm and successfully blocks it but doesn't see me running at him full sprint because of it.

Nearing him, I jump up and pierce my sword through his eye just as he lowers his arm.

Leaving the sword, I land while taking the bow off my back.

Kneeling, I take aim at the three people who've been watching and decided to show up just now.

They raise their hands, and the only man says, "Whoa there, friend. We mean no harm."

They've been here since the battle started.

'Seems I was only a minute or two early; what a coincidence.'

Relaxing the bow, I stand up, giving them a slightly sharp look, "Apologies. I'm used to wolves attacking once I've killed my prey."

Two of them stiffened for a split second before shrugging it off.

"Like Farkas said, we mean you no harm. We're only here because it was a Companion's contract to kill the giant."

I nod and turn back to the giant, pulling out my axe that's stuck in its arm.

"That's fine. I don't have time to deal with this thing," I flick the chipped edge of the axe, then go for my sword.

"It's your kill. We don't—"

"I'll rephrase," I interrupt them while using the giant as a cleaning rag, "I've an urgent message for the Jarl and can't deal with a one-ton giant."

Sheathing my sword, I start walking the rest of the way to Whiterun.

While passing them, I see Aela wanting to say something, but Farkas puts a hand on her shoulder while shaking his head.

"I'll stop by Jorrvaskr if 'destiny' permits."

Leaving them those words, I think, 'That should be enough to not be treated like a 'welp' and fast track my progress with the Companions.'

The fastest way to increase my constitution is to get my werewolf on.

And with my influence, purifying and returning it to the original bloodline personally gifted by Hircine shouldn't be too hard.

Aside from becoming a werewolf, my body should increase in strength whenever I absorb a dragon soul the 'traditional' way as the blessing would allow.

But I don't know if the dragon will attack right away or not; while everything's been consistent with the game, it's also at a greater scale.

'So—I'll probably have to wait awhile...'

Reaching the gates of Whiterun, I see a guard coming to me.

—

//Note//

I've changed the way I use dashes; hopefully, it makes it easier to notice jumps in the story.

The way I'm using them is pretty intuitive.

(—) One em-dash is a small time jump or skip.

It's mainly to cut down on needless filler only meant to serve as a transition.

(— —) Two em-dashes are a change in scene but within the same series of events.

Like the jump from Bleak Falls to fighting the giant. Two different scenes, but both belong in the same context.

(— — —) Three em-dashes are a complete change in the story or break in the storyline.

Basically, the same as I've already been using them most of the time.

—

I also changed from normal dashes (-) to em-dashes (—) since they're easier to see.

I don't know why I didn't do that earlier.

— —

I know werewolves suck in Skyrim but do you think the MC wouldn't fix that in some way.

If he didn't, then I would.

— —

It should go without speaking—or writing—that while this is a universe based on a game, it's not actually a game.

He can't just equip any armor and have it fit perfectly; especially women's.

If he could even get it on, it would look weird asf.

And yes, I know that armor is usually made with adjustability, so different sized people can wear it; especially, if it's standard-issue like Imperial armor.

But keep in mind that the better the armor, the more likely it is to be tailor-fit to ensure the best performance, and thus, unable to be worn by someone else immediately, if at all.

—

Given the skill level of the MC.

Anything better than fur armor is kinda useless until he starts fighting things too far beyond his 'limited' strength, where skill no longer has meaning.

Kind of like the shouting draugr; it could have overpowered him if he was able to shout more, even if he was outclassed in skill.

—

In game logic, the MC is basically level five right now and playing on a difficulty above legendary, PLUS the harshest survival mods are installed.

Oh, also there are mods installed to increase enemy/creature amount and spawn rates while making the map bigger.

With all that, he was able to solo a dungeon with fur fucking armor and weapons barely better than iron daggers.

— —

I've lost track of what I was writing notes about, so I'll end it here before I go on a larger tangent than I probably already have.

— —