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Sian's Story part 45 - You've Heard This All Before



Once again, I find myself covering the ground that probably everyone has heard about a million times, so once again I’ll skip the minute details. There were a few differences between the first go round and the second:


- I changed my combat style during my trek through Bleak Falls Barrow to better suit my new philosophy of “try not to let anyone with a weapon get near me.” To that end, I used my bow and my fire a lot more than I had in the past, to good effect. The final piece was picking up a two-handed sword from a fallen draugr and using it instead of the shorter sword Alvor had lent me. It had longer reach and usually finished off anything that got that close with one blow. Heavy as fuck, though, so I needed to build up my upper body strength. Pushups became a part of my morning routine the very next day.


- I had forgotten that the reason I learned about the draugr’s surprising ability to still…do the deed came about because of the fucking word wall and its orgasmic effect on my body. I was able to get away from the giant final draugr and kill it this time. I had not been so lucky on the previous attempt.      


- The look on Farengar’s face when I revealed I already had the stone when he was trying to tell me how to acquire it was (nearly) worth the price of being captured by the Bitch and the Bandit.


- In yet another interesting bit of timing, the first dragon attack on the Western tower happened, once again, just as I was finishing my conversation with Farengar. Apparently the time spent in my short captivity plus the time spent kiting the giant equaled roughly the same about of time it had taken to go to Whiterun and get sent back to the barrow last time.


- If I have to go through all of this for a third time, I’ll try to remember and therefore prepare myself better for what followed the killing of the dragon at the guard tower, but in my defense, I was at the end of a very long day and the Whiterun guards were running up with exultant shouts and I kind of forgot what was about to happen until the familiar wind kicked up and my loins burst into passionate flames that blossomed and consumed me as I did the same to the dragon’s life essence. Once the wind and my orgasm subsided enough for me to notice the real world again, I discovered I was on my knees, still gasping in the aftershock, with the soldiers standing in dead silence in a semi-circle around me and the dragon’s now-skeletal head. Fortunately I was able to distract them by shouting Fus, which kicked in their discussion about Dragonborns and seemed to make them forget about my…um…pubic performance.


- Once I got back to Whiterun and Balgruff had once again granted me the title of Thane based on knowing me for one whole day, New Lydia (who seemed to have failed to get the notice about the new armor dress code for women – hers, at least, looked solid from head to foot) and I had a nice long chat about when it was appropriate to dash headlong into a building full of bandits without a lot of careful preparation and perhaps a few dozen friends. She seemed to understand. I was unconvinced of her grasp of the subject. Fortunately, she had a horse, so when we got near the towers that had led to her death and my very first brush with personal enslavement last time, I just kicked my heels into the horse’s flanks and sprinted by, leaving her no choice but to follow. Horses: the only way to travel. Short of a tank.


- Once again, I tried my best to get ahead of the curve by asking around about Dragonrend, which Esbern had deduced was the word that saved humanity during the last dragon epoch. Once again, my attempts failed to produce results. No one, from Avenicci to Farengar to the Greybeards themselves, knew what the hell I was talking about.


- Lydia turned out to be heedless of my directions at times. For instance, when we cleared out the barrow near Ivarstead, she rushed ahead without warning twice, setting off traps both times. Fucking Nords.


- Finally, I am an idiot. After visiting the Greybeards, they sent me, once again, to retrieve the horn of Jurgen Windcaller. Lydia and I made the trek north, fighting through bandits and draugr and skeletons, oh my, only to find, just as before, that Delphine had already been there and removed the horn. When I told her the entire story (much much) later, she asked, “If you knew the horn wasn’t going to be there, why didn’t you just go to Riverwood and wait for me to return?” I had no intelligent answer.


Don't feed the bastards. Feed yourself instead.


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