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Diary of a Dragonborn Chapter 8: Mace Raiden, Statue Fondler


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CHAPTER 8: MACE RAIDEN, STATUE FONDLER
In which our hero gets drunk. A lot drunk.
Previous: Chapter 7, Yes, I am a Dragon Slayer

 

So... I stopped in at the tavern last night, to steady my nerves. Got to talking with this guy named Sam. He's a swell dude, you know? Very sympathetic to my plight. We got to drinking, and then drinking a little more. Then we started imbibing alcohol. We downed some brews, drank a few bottles of beer, pounded some brewskies, and then drank some more. We tried Argonian Ale, Cliff Racer, Velvet LeChance, Ale, and Alto Wine. We then washed that down with Argonian Bloodwine, some Colovian Brandy, Firebrand Wine, a couple bottles of Spiced Wine apiece, some regular old Wine, and we shared a bottle of Surilie Brothers Wine. We then went on to a mead-tasting binge with Mead, Black-Briar Mead, Black-Briar Reserve, Dragon's Breath Mead, Honningbrew Mead, and Mead with Juniper Berry. We went on a round-the-world trip with Ashfire Mead, Cyrodilic Brandy, Emberbrand Wine, Sujamma, Shein, Stros M'Kai Rum, Flin, Matze, and White-Gold Tower. We then topped it off with a little Balmora Blue and a chaser of Sleeping Tree Sap.

 

After that, we started to get a little carried away with the drinking. I don't remember much about the rest of the night, but I do remember it was eventful.

 

When I wake up, the first thing I see is a big pair of breasts pointed straight at me.

 

On the entirely reasonable assumption that I am under attack, I whip out my axe and take a mighty swing, only to spin around and fall down. On the entirely reasonable assumption that the floor needs to be scrubbed anyway, I decide to vomit for a while, and then on the entirely reasonable assumption that all wakefulness and no sleep makes Mace a dull boy, I black out again.

 

And now I'm awake again. There's a woman in priestess robes standing over me, scowling. On the entirely reasonable assumption that it was her breasts I took a swing at, I proceed to crawl away slowly, but she follows me, chastising me about making a mess and fondling the statuary OH THANK GODS IT WAS JUST A STATUE. Where the hell am I? What is this place? Is this heaven? Or hell? Either would fit the decor, it looks like someone built an uncomfortable stone room with uncomfortable stone benches and uncomfortable stone floors and uncomfortable stone statuary, then covered every remaining smooth edge with jagged metal.

 

Wait, what did you just say, lady? I got married to a goat? And, in addition to fondling the statuary, I fondled some guy's staff? Why do I have a feather and a giant's toe stuffed in my pants?

 

She won't tell me anything until I clean up my mess, so I proceed to do so, despite my splitting headache. Apparently, I'm in Markarth, and I stumbled in here last night with Sam, rambling about getting married to a goat and a magical staff, fondled the statuary, I KEEP coming back to that one, and passed out. I apologize to her about the mess and the statue fondling, really I'm wanting to be a courier, not a professional fondler, and get the fuck out of there. I'd really like to put this night behind me as far as possible.

 

Markarth is not a pretty place. Even without occasional recurring bouts of double vision, the place is just nasty to look at. And how the hell did I get here in one night? It's half a province away, did I teleport again? I decide that I need to get back on track. Before I went to get a drink with my new bestest buddy Sam, who apparently left me in the lurch, he's not my bestest buddy any more, I was trying to get to the greybeards for some psychiatric help. I need it even more now, having apparently just married a goat. I head for the city gate, keeping my eyes down and face averted from passers-by, just in case I did something on my way in that I don't want to know about. I am interrupted on my way out the gate only twice - the first time, by a guy who apparently thinks he's very vigilant, and who wants me to help him in a B&E into this abandoned house because he thinks it's infested with daedra. Right, dude. I'll help you fight some daedra! That doesn't seem like a bad idea at all! You go in first, I'm right behind you. The second time I'm interrupted on my way out the gates is by a guy who stabs a woman in the middle of the marketplace. Yep, this place is REAL nice. I'm getting out of here.

 

Outside the main gate, I find a carriage driver who is willing to take me back to Whiterun for a mere 20 gold, the bargain of a lifetime. I want to go to Whiterun because it's the closest town to Ivarstead, which is the jumping-off place for the trip up the mountain to see the grey-bearded therapists. After arriving at Whiterun, I head immediately up the path, stopping only to let a line of Imperial guardsmen escorting a nord prisoner go by. The nord tells me to join the fight to free Skyrim and head to Windhelm. Yeah, buddy, it's obviously gone SWIMMINGLY well for you so far, hasn't it? That's right at the top of my to-do list, sure. Bye-bye now, have fun in the dungeons.

 

I decide to take the north road around the mountain rather than the south road, more because the south road heads through Riverwood and then through Helgen, two places with bad memories for me. The north road passes another bandit-infested tower, and these guys are actually sensible about things, just demanding money and then letting me go past. The rest of the trip is fairly uneventful, a peaceful walking journey through a beautiful landscape marred only by the occasional bear attack. It does seem that there are more bears, deer, rabbits, foxes, wolves, birds, snakes, butterflies, and what-have-you along the roads than anywhere else. Either the nords who build these roads put them through the most densely-populated regions they could find, or there's something about the roads that attract hostile animals. Bandits and wanderers I get, but why the fuck does every living thing in the world want to make an ostensibly well-traveled route their home?

 

Eventually I arrive at Ivarstead. The people here are friendly, and there's even a guy who gives me a job as a courier. I'm to take a bag of food up to the greybeards! This is a pretty good gig - I'm going that way anyway, and making a delivery of necessaries to the greybeards will undoubtedly put them in a good mood, amenable to helping me! I head up the mountain, passing the occasional stone pillar with writing on it and the occasional pilgrim out for a stroll. I stop to read the pillars and talk to the pilgrims, but not for too long. Maybe 0.003 seconds per pillar or pilgrim. See, I'm running as fast as I possibly can, because somehow this road is infested with a dozen trolls. I'm tough enough to take on the occasional troll and win after a few minutes, but not three at once. How the hell did the pilgrims get up here without being attacked? Are you guys in league with the trolls?

 

Next: Chapter 9, I Am A Dragonborn
Start at Chapter 1

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