CHAPTER 11: OATH OF CELIBACY... I MEAN, FEALTY
In which our hero becomes authentically Nord by getting a horned helmet.
Previous: Chapter 10, A Strange Dress Code

So I just blew up the Hidden Valley bunker for the Legion, and with Raoul in tow I've got to head back to the Fort to talk to Caesar again. I'm sure he'll have another task for me... wait, shit, no. Let's start again.

So I just conquered Fort Hraggstad for the Legion, and with Belrand in tow I've got to head back to Castle Dour and talk to General Tullius again. I'm sure he'll have another task for me. Sorry, little cross-dimensional confusion, there. I think it's the guys in skirts.

Back at the fort, I mean castle, Rikke and Tullius both seem surprised to see me. Yeah, eat it, bitches. Y'all sent me on a suicide mission and I'M BACK, motherfuckers. I killed a dragon, asshats. Don't fuck with me, I am death incarnate. A band of bandits holds no terror for me. Pay no attention to the hireling behind me, he's just here to carry my loot. No help in battle at all, man. For 500 gold, he can keep his damn mouth SHUT and let me expostulate about my combat prowess.

Anyway, they give me the oath of fealty, which says I have to defend the empire until my dying days, protect the emperor and uphold the yadda yadda yadda when do I get to kill Stormcloaks? Rikke sends me out to pick up my official Legion Armor, and whoa boy it's actually quite a bit better than the scrap metal I'm wearing now. I give my leavings to Belrand, who examines them with distaste and puts them on with some trepidation. Apparently his fastidious nature makes him uncomfortable wearing someone else's cast-offs, especially when they're covered with bandit blood and globs of draugr skunge.

Legate Rikke has a new task for me: I'm to go to, and get this, you'll never believe it, I have to go to a draugr ruin! Yes! I have to fetch an item! Looks like I'm mixing up professions now. Courier/legionnaire/tomb raider! But this time I'll have help, and I'm not just talking about Belrand. As soon as I get out there into the snowy wasteland, I see Rikke herself, a handful of legion soldiers, and Hadvar. Remember him? The guy who just couldn't rouse himself from his stupor of indifference long enough to save my life at Helgen? He tells me that he knew I'd come around and join the legion.

Dude, don't make me regret my decision. The only reason I joined the legion is because the Stormcloaks are all assholes, and the legion is only something like 90% asshole-infested, not that I'm pointing fingers, HADVAR. Actually, now that I come to think about it, really the only reason I joined the legion was because my job of being a courier came to an abrupt end. Anyway, Hadvar says that he much prefers a straight-up fight than creeping around in ruins. I sympathize. I, too, prefer a stand-up fight to a bughunt. I'm going to try to stab him in the back when nobody's looking as soon as we get inside.

We kill a few Stormcloaks outside, then a few more inside. Then a few more. The Stormcloaks set up an elaborate trap inside, a cunningly set series of firepots hanging over a big pool of oil. They're crafty, those Stormcloaks. Nobody can see THAT coming. However, there is a conveniently overlooked ledge just above where a sneaky sort of fellow can get up there and take out a few Stormcloaks and spring the trap before any legion soldiers fall into it. It'll take a good archer, skilled in the stealthy arts, to overcome this trap. So I go ahead and rush right through the main entrance ignoring the upper ledge, slaughtering Stormcloaks, Belrand at my side, while the legion cowards sit back. I don't know if it was an arrow, the Stormcloaks, my Shouting, or what, but someone sprang the trap and I lost a whole two hitpoints. Way to go, Stormcloak trap-maker, whoever you are. You probably spent thousands of gold on this trap and all it managed to do was irritate me. Good job.

Anyway, several Stormcloaks, a few draugr, and another one of the nord's cunningly constructed puzzles (Pull a lever! Gate opens!) later, we get to the ancient king's throne room. This draugr is one of those unique tough ones, who apparently spent quite some time working out in the gym. This one is a little tougher even than the others. In the ensuing fight, we lose the remaining legion soldiers, Rikke takes a knee a couple of times, and I accidentally kill Belrand. It wasn't really my fault, he just got in the way of my axe. I emerge relatively unscathed, courtesy of pounding a dozen healing potions during the scuffle, but RIP Belrand, you were a good minion, can I get my 500 gold back now? The only other unfortunate thing is that Hadvar managed to survive, despite my best efforts. Still, it isn't a total loss. I found another chanting wall, and now I've got this sweet horned helmet that I am in no way going to just hand over to the legion. I'm keeping it for now, maybe I'll think about giving it away some time in the future, but I think I earned it.

I've come up with an interesting theory. This crown is the crown of the high king of Skyrim. So now, as long as I'm wearing it, I'm considered the high king, right? Okay, maybe not to the living, even the nords of Skyrim aren't that stupid (I think), but the draugr are dumb enough to fall for it, right? I mean, they can't figure out their own so-called "traps" or how to get past cleverly constructed progress blockers (spin three rings and win a prize!), so they're bound to be stupid enough to fall for this ruse, right? All of the draugr here are dead, so I can't test it out, but in checking my journal I've got a quest to go find a maguffin for the Greybeards, and it's in a draugr ruin, so... I can test my theory there. The draugr should bow right down to me, no problem. I'm a little leery about doing anything for the self-righteous jackasses that never shave, but... fuck it. Why not? I'm starting to get fatalistic about my life here in Skyrim. Maybe I'll just go ahead and do whatever people tell me to, regardless of how idiotic. New profession: Mace Raiden, Yes-Man!

Next: Chapter 12, I'm Feeling Horny
Start at Chapter 1