CHAPTER 45: Whatever You Say
In which our hero is buffeted along by the wings of Fate.
Previous: Chapter 44: I'm seeing little blue men WITHOUT the benefit of drugs!

Well, after a night in the local tavern (aptly named "retch" something-or-other), I've worked up the courage to leave this godsforsaken island and head back to the godsforsaken mainland. I'll always treasure my time here, in particular the amount of treasure I've gotten from various dungeon crawls and bandit group slaughters. But that's about it, you see - the local populace is no better or worse than any other local populace I've dealt with since I arrived in Skyrim, but the local leader is a fine fellow, and I've no desire to step on his toes by doing what everyone else is telling me to do, namely, kill him. I'm sure I could do it, but I don't want to do it. Live and let live, that's what I always say, at least when confronted with someone who is generally of the same opinion.

I stagger outside and book passage back to the mainland, Gjalund only too happy to take me away from this dusty pit I'm in and back to the snowy pit from whence I came. Windhelm is still the same as it was, and I breathe a sigh of relief - nobody else has burned the city down in my absence, so I can keep that on my to-do list for later. It's always nice to have a decent to-do list full of things you're actually looking forward to doing.
Speaking of which, let's check the ol' quest journal, shall we? Hmm... got a lot of stuff on here, some things I really can't be bothered with, some other things I'd rather stick my arm in a meat grinder than actually do. I'm not looking for anything to do with killing right now... I think I'm in the mood for something softer, maybe a sort of wine-and-song number. Normally I'd head to the local tavern to get my fix, but I'm already topped to the brim on liquid courage, so let's skip the wine and head right to the song. The Bard's College is calling me, in melodious voices that seem to be saying "we are a bunch of people who go around singing at each other, we're probably not going to assign you murder-style quests." I ignore those niggling doubts that suggest that singing isn't that much different from Shouting, and hope against hope that this isn't going to be another Greybeard-like situation. If they tell me I have to go find a lost object before I can join their club, I'm going to go find a corner to cry in.

One fast-travel across the continent later, and I'm in Solitude once again, the place where people get their heads chopped off for opening the main gate. Note to self - don't ever enter or leave via the main gate, and all should be well. Opening other doors should be fine, but I'd better keep my hand on my axe, just in case. On my way up to the college, though, I am interrupted by an Altmer who is suffering from the same crippling hubris and massively-inflated self-concept that all Altmer seem to be suffering from. She informs me that my outfit, mostly consisting of Daedric armor with a Stalhrim helm, is of poor quality. She gives me an outfit to take to the Jarl, because like all citizens in the world she can't be bothered to do her own schlepping. I stand there for a few minutes, struggling to come up with some way to make a joke about it, but the best I can come up with is a quickly-giving clothes merchant being called Tailor Swift, which is pretty damn pathetic, if you ask me, so I give up, and head on up to the Blue Palace.

At this point I'd like to draw attention to the sheer number of people who want me to head up to the Blue Palace to do their shit. The innkeeper's son wants me to deliver a case of wine, the tailor wants me to show off her clothing, an apparently insane Bosmer wants me to take some old hip-bone and deliver it to a long-dead king there, local food vendors keep saying that other people have already headed up there and I should investigate... I'm getting freaked out, actually. It could be a plot, like the "Blue Palace" is actually a deep pit-trap full of spikes designed to catch unwary newcomers, and the citizenry keep telling new arrivals to head up there so they can loot the bodies or something.

Still, I have to say I am actually encouraged by Taarie - people have given me quests to kill dragons, kill bandits, kill beasts, beat people up, steal things, rescue things, retrieve things, look at things, urinate on things, look at people, urinate on people, urinate on dragons, rescue urine, transport items back and forth, create new items, investigate homicides, perform homicides, drink things (not urine) (at least I hope not), play escort to the world champion Slow Walkers League, and sell my soul. And this tailor wants me to wear a suit of clothes. That's it?

This... this may well be the happiest day of my life. Not only do I get new duds, but for once I've got a quest that doesn't involve killing. Or urine, for that matter. Shame that the "wonderful" outfit is kind of shit. I guess there's nothing objectively bad about it, save for the style, cut, colors, accessories, material, or the fact that it doesn't come with matching boots, gloves, and hat. It's just not my sort of thing. I prefer armor plating to super-dandified bits of fabric. Besides, I'm pretty damn sure that this "unique outfit" is just a copy of another suit, meaning these "tailors" are pretty shit themselves. That's called Clothing Piracy, my lass, and is punishable by a fine of not less than six months in the local jail with a cell-mate named "Big Bubba" who, upon closer inspection, may actually be a troll wearing a wig. p.s. Don't drop the soap.

Anyway, I quickly jaunt up to the Blue Palace, show off my new outfit (after which I subsequently remove it immediately, I'm not a complete fool), deliver the wine, and get involved in some sort of quest to go kill a bunch of wolves in a cave and retrieve a skull. That last one may have gotten muddled, though. Anyway, what the hell was I doing in the first place? Oh, yes, the Bard's College. Let's get back on track.

Just inside the college, I am approached by another Altmer. This guy doesn't seem to be suffering from the traditional Altmer problem of a massive superiority complex, though, so I relax my grip on my axe a little, and cancel the fireball spell I had unconsciously readied. I ask to be initiated into the college, figuring that maybe I've finally found a group of people who are less interested in sending their newest members out to do odd jobs, but no such luck - initiation requires, and you'll laugh when you hear this, dungeon delving and finding lost objects! Nobody could be more surprised than I. I whip out my axe and go berserk, but only on the inside, where nobody objects to me running amok and slicing the heads off everyone present because it's all in my imagination.

Slumping a little due to ennui, I head back outside and wander off in the direction of a cave called Dead Men's Respite, stopping myself just in time before I accidentally open the main gate. Fast travel only, remember. Don't want to get arrested and beheaded.

The cave is a bit south of Morthal, but I don't want to go there yet, I'm saving that for a special occasion. This necessitates a bit of a hike, but that's okay, it's actually sort of a relief to kill the occasional bear instead of bandits all the time. Given that the place I'm going is a cave, it'll be full of Draugr or Falmer or something, so I'd better appreciate the wildlife while I've got the chance.

And it is. Full of Draugr, I mean. There's also a ghostly apparition that wanders the halls, but he doesn't seem to be hostile, so I just try to ignore him. I head through the ruin, killing Draugr and solving "puzzles," the ghost dude occasionally appearing ahead of me, as if to guide me or possibly just watch to see if I stumble on an obvious trap. It's got to be boring, being a ghost, after all. I can't begrudge his wanting to get a little entertainment out of random adventurers coming through.

Eventually I find the object I'm supposed to find, which is a book, which wasn't made entirely clear by those giving me the job, but whatever. I head back up, and ghost dude opens a previously impassible door, it being his job apparently. Through the door and past one of those ridiculous ancient puzzle doors, and into a chamber ringed with chairs filled with dead bodies. I briefly wonder at why in all these ruins there are people who apparently died while sitting upright or standing in recessed walls, but I decide not to give it too much thought or I'd only get depressed. The ghost dude starts shouting, and the chamber starts rocking, and I'm sure an earthquake is about to happen, this being the ghost's final chance to get some entertainment out of me - watching the mortal try to dodge falling rocks must be a real knee-slapper to the undead.

But no, all that happens is some of the Draugr stand up and start attacking us. Or rather, start attacking the ghost. They mostly seem to ignore me, and Stenvar's stuck behind the gate so he's out of it too. To the Draugr, apparently the only good bard is a dead bard, and I mean that most sincerely - this dead dude is pretty good. Seriously, this ghostly apparition is impervious to harm. I just sit back and watch the ghost fight the zombies, which sounds like a really low-budget horror flick, but what are you gonna do? I'll tell you what you're gonna do... You're gonna summon ethereal wolves periodically to help the ghost out with his zombie problem. So that's what I did. That whole battle, I just sat back by the door, summoning wolf familiar over and over again, watching as that one dead man and that one ghostly dog carved their way through all those other dead men.

Once the dead guys are all dead... uh, dead-er... I head back outside with my new book and fast-travel back to the college. Viarmo seems disappointed in the quality of the literature I've brought him, but considering the quality of most of the books I've found in my travels (burned, or ruined, or burned-ruined), he should be jolly thankful he's gotten something legible at all. We proceed to invent bits of the story to fill the gaps - or rather, he does, my only contribution being to repeat "and then the Dragonborn lived happily ever after" over and over at him. He didn't take the hint, and put in his own bits. Fine.

We then march up to the palace and he reads the text, getting some of his own invention wrong, but I'm not going to argue, considering that I'm to be given a sum of gold for all my trouble, with which I can buy more booze. Yay. But before I can become a full Bard (and get my treasure), I have to participate in the Burning of King Olaf festival.

The Burning of King Olaf is an ancient and honorable tradition that began hundreds of years ago when a group of people decided to make up a bunch of canvas sacks filled with straw symbolizing a man, with a wooden crown on its head symbolizing rulership, and set fire to it, symbolizing that they had been hitting the sauce pretty hard. When they woke up the next morning, they decided that they couldn't very well go around telling people they were drunk and disorderly the night before, so they quickly whipped up a story about it being a ceremonial condemnation of false rulers or whatever.

Historical aside: The original story they were going to go with was that they had been mentally controlled by Sanguine into imbibing gallons of brandy and setting fires, but one of the group who had missed most of the conversation, named "Leeroy," wandered in at the last minute and started spewing gibberish about evil kings, and the rest of the group just had to go with it, nervously trying to back him up in front of the Jarl, who was less than pleased that this group had passed out while the fire was still burning, thus being unable to stop it from spreading and burning down his bathroom. The tale goes that the Jarl was so impressed by the oratory skills of this Leeroy and his cronies that he made it the official story, thereby simultaneously establishing the tradition of the Burning of King Olaf, and the tradition of No Commodes at the Blue Palace.

Anyway, after arranging the celebration, a difficult task that involved telling someone else to arrange the celebration, the celebration is arranged. Late that night, the celebration begins to happen to transpire to start. A little candy, a little wine, a little Model King Flambé, and bam, I'm a full bard, having never once touched a musical instrument.

You know, I'm getting a little sick of getting quests that have nothing to do with the theme of the quest giver. Dungeon delving for the Bards, assassination for the Thieves, melee weapons for the Mages... as much as I'm getting tired of constant fighting, maybe I should just embrace it and go back to the group of people who are going to have me kill people, but at least that's what their charter is all about. No, I'm not talking about the Companions, I have no desire to become a Werewolf, I have my standards (not really) - I'm talking about the Blades. I've left Delphine and Esbern to their own devices for far too long, I feel - it's time to head out to Sky Haven Temple and see what happens next.

NEXT: Chapter 46: Sky Haven Temple
Start at Chapter 1