There are two overland routes to Whiterun from Solitude. Straight south to Rorikstead and then east, or east through Hjaalmarch and into the Pale, then south by way of Fort Dunstad. The Pale route was longer, and colder, and given her lack of a proper tent or fur cloak Monilee quickly decided to take the route through Rorikstead. She figured that if she could make Dragon Bridge by midnight, she could find a reasonably comfortable spot to sleep till morning and then continue on with the advantage of daylight.

 

The evening was cool but not unpleasant and she made good time towards Dragon Bridge. Indeed, it seemed that this first leg of the trip would be uneventful - until the sounds of battle pealed out in the distance. Armored warriors - adventurers, mercenaries, march militia, she wasn't sure - were neatly routing a group of bandits in the hills overlooking the road. One of them, a Dunmer dressed in a raggedy fur kilt, leapt down and landed near Monilee. She drew her sword, but quickly he threw up his hands in submission.

 

Monilee considered striking him down where he stood - certainly she was feeling no sympathy towards bandits at the moment - but she was also tired, so at swordpoint she ordered the elf to hand over his loot and then flee. Moments later, with a second coin purse now hanging on Monilee's belt, the bandit fled headlong into the shadows. Feeling the leather pouch thoughtfully, she wondered if this would give her the cash necessary to stay at the town in when she reached Dragon Bridge rather than roughing it on the ground.

 

As it turned out, the Dunmer's coin bought not just a bed for the night but also a hot and filling bowl of soup. Full and very much in need of real rest, Monilee made her prayers to Dibella and then fell into the bed. After first weeks on the road in High Rock and then days more barely surviving in Skyrim's wilds - both the actual wilderness and the dog-eat-dog world of Solitude's streets - the simple bed was pure ecstacy. 

 

 

"You're a virgin?" her doppelganger asked incredulously.

 

"What? Ah, why? I'm trying to sleep," Monilee murmured back.

 

"We, you have 'virgin' tattooed on your ass. And it's glowing." 

 

"You're joking. Stop joking, it's not funny." Though even as she said it, she realized her rear had been feeling a little tender, a little itchy, ever since she'd awakened from her trip down the river. Was her imposter telling the truth? If only I had a mirror...

 

The doppelganger said nothing, but Monilee could almost hear her smirking under the burlap hood. Whatever, she was tired, and she wasn't going to give up a good night's sleep over the state of her rear end.

 

And sleep came fast and restful. No dreams troubled her and when she woke her aches felt just a little further away. Monilee availed herself of the washbasin and a breakfast of venison steak, then readied herslef to return to the road. Crossing the main hall towards the exit, Monilee's eyes fell on a woman with an oddly marked face and a vivid orange hood. A sister in service of Dibella, she suspected. They exchanged greetings and small talk for a time, and Monilee learned the name of the leader of the Temple of Dibella, as well as that the order might accept new members. She briefly considered changing her plan and going with her first inclination of visiting Markarth, but decided against it. She would be going there anyway, in the fullness of time, but Whiterun first.

 

 

Of course, there were bandits. That was maybe the one reason to take the Morthal route - the colder climate kept the human variety of predator at a distance. But this time, Monilee was rested and armed. While her doppelganger distracted the male, Monilee quickly cut down the woman - who had sorely neglected her swordplay practice - and then maneuvered behind the man, skewering him on her blade. The fight was over practically before she'd realized it had begun. 

 

A quick search turned up little of value - a bottle of ale and a few copper coins. The poor bastards were probably as desperate as she'd been just a couple days before. But Monilee had learned the hard way that Skyrim wasn't a place that valued pity, and so she easily discarded any sense of blame for these twos deaths. They had chosen this fate when they took to banditry. Really, this encounter was more of a suicide than anything else. Monilee sipped the ale and added the coins to her purse, then continued along the road to Whiterun. Ironically, now she was retracing her steps from a few days earlier, but in reverse. Hopefully that thunder-throwing wizard had decamped to somewhere else, or the trip was about to get interesting.

 

Of the wizard there was no sign. Monilee proceeded south, careful to avoid the bandit fort she'd spied on her earlier trip, and then down towards Rorikstead. On the edge of the settlement she saw a peculiar sight - a well-armed warrior chasing what appeared to be a commoner woman in a running battle. Despite his stout lamellar armor and clearly well-forged weapons, she seemed to be an even match for him. Finally he landed a strong blow, staggering the woman. The fight seemed all but over, until blood-red, leathery wings burst from her back. Monilee drew her sword to fight, only to watch the woman strike down the guard in a single blow, clearly backed with powerful magic. 

 

 

Realizing she had no chance of besting this monster - some form of daedra most likely - Monilee beat a hasty retreat. When she finally glanced back, she saw no sign of pursuit and lowered her guard for a moment. Another unexpected development... hadn't the hordes of Oblivion been sealed away by Saint Martin? Skyrim truly was a strange and turbulent land, and this was all the more sign that Monilee could never completely relax.

 

Of things relaxed, though, Rorikstead certainly seemed to be one of them. Who knew what lurked below its surface, but as Monilee walked through it felt like this was an island of calm in this troubled land. She'd originally planned to stop for the day here, but with the day barely past noon, she decided to press on for Whiterun. With luck, they'd reach the gates before nightfall.

 

It was a long trip, but the whole southbound leg proved safe for Monilee. Safe, but not uneventful. She witnessed a hidden Stormcloak party descend from cliffs to ambush a Whiterun Hold guard - thankfully they had no interest or hostility towards Monilee - and even saw a mighty giant, exercising her cow the way a man walks his dog. Prudence, distance, and a sheathed sword avoided trouble all throughout.

 

 

Things took a more hazardous turn as the road turned east, with more bandits plaguing the road - including a would-be magician. With careful movements and a well placed sword stroke to the man's chest, Monilee ended the threat, but not before a magical blast ripped apart her hood. She suspected she should be grateful; an inch to the right and it would have been her face receiving that. Searching the bandits, she was excited to discover that one of their coin purses contained a glittering gold ring, bearing a large wine-red stone. She claimed it for her own, along with a polished onyx stone and a few other valuable looking items. Collectively, she expected these little findings to pay for her room, board, and gate tolls in Whiterun.

 

And then she saw it. Barely visible through the late afternoon gloom -- a watchtower, and beyond it the hilltop city of Whiterun. Monilee was almost in spitting distance of her goal, now. 

 

 

She almost didn't make it. Coming across a Whiterun guard best by bandits, Monilee joined the melee, felling another of the attackers. Then an agile woman set on her with a club. She parried the first blow, but the second sent her to the ground. If not for her doppelganger, who somewhere had acquired a sword and now ran off the outlaw, Monilee would have been done for. Instead, she managed to stagger away behind cover, quaff a healing potion she had looted from one of the earlier fights, and crawl through the underbrush to avoid the remaining bandits. Once she was past the watchtower, she knew she was safe - doubly so when the great walls of Whiterun reared up full ahead of her. 

 

 

And what was that smell, carried on the wind? It felt both foreign and intensely familiar to her. Like pine and lavender... like something from a dream.

 

Test Report - Session 5

Successfully triggered DAYMOYL several times with virgin death alternative active. Need further research into previous CTD scenario if/when it occurs again. Still need to understand virgin death alternative interaction with DAYMOYL once main quest is active.