CHAPTER 14: POSSIBLY SOME ICE HOCKEY REFERENCE
In which our hero solves a brutal murder by committing brutal murder.
Previous: Chapter 13, Plot Armor

So... Windhelm. Just like I expected. Racist bastards harassing innocent Dunmer, cold and snowy, and not one but two beggars. That's a 100% increase in the number of beggars most towns have. I wander the streets for a while, and overhear a conversation about a cursed house or something. Someone's trying to summon the Dark Brotherhood, so I resolve to enter said house and convince the misguided soul to desist in following this evil path, with my axe if necessary. Inside, there's a kid who apparently found a skeleton just lying around and brought it home. Can I keep it, mom? Sure, honey, but you have to clean up after it, keep it fed on human flesh, and polish it daily.

This kid is sort of warped. He's ticked off at a woman who runs the orphanage down in Riften, and wants me to kill her. I agree, backing away slowly, keeping a nervous eye on the kid just in case he, I don't know, offers me something to eat or something. Like that bloody heart sitting just over there, next to the dead body. Yep, I'll do it kid, no problem, NO problem, just gonna go and prepare my little-old-lady-killing plans. You wait here, I'll be back, I promise.

Once back outside in the fresh air, I spend the next hour or two moving some of the big stone blocks in a nearby wall to cover up the front door, sealing the evil inside away for good. It's for the best, really.

I continue wandering the streets, and what to my wondering eyes should appear but a dead body, covered in scars, with four people standing around it. I try to inch past, carefully avoiding eye contract, in case this is some sort of hazing ritual or something, when the guard stops me dead and tells me to stay away, which is what I was trying to do, but hey. The guard promptly tells me to question the witnesses, which is his job. Normally I'd just thwack him one for his attitude and be on my way, but I have a great respect for the law, especially considering that the law outnumbers me by a factor of 30.

The "witnesses," so-called, didn't actually see anything. One of them's a beggar who heard a scream and came running, which seems counterintuitive to me, another one saw a guy running away, and the third is the local mortician. The guard says it's typical, and tells me to go ask the Jarl's steward if I can help. Since I'm still under that whole 30:1 problem, I agree, and head on up to the palace. The steward informs me that he'll help as much as he can, as long as he can continue to stand in one place and never actually do anything, and assigns me the case.

Hey... wait just a damn minute here. This... this is a murder mystery. A murder mystery! Finally, some depth to this game life! I get to hunt down diabolically hidden clues, question intransigent suspects, and bring the guilty to justice! This is great! In the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate yet equally unimportant groups: the guards, who don't investigate crime; and the random citizens wandering in off the streets, who do. These are their stories. When I'm done with this, my first case, I'm going to write a detective novel about this whole thing.

It was a cold day in the city. The wind howled forlornly about the buttresses of the castle walls. I was working on the east side of town, trying to solve the case of a stolen ring, when I got the report.
A code MS11. Murder.

The guard tells me to question the mortician, and to follow the trail of blood that leads away from the scene. Hmm, a trail of blood. A Clue. Clearly the killer is a cunning man, careful and methodical, who just happens to leave trails of blood from his hideout to the murder scene. This might be my toughest case yet. I decide to wander around questioning potential witnesses and suspects first.

Lonely-gale. People call him "Captain." He's a bit of a shady character, and one of my prime sources of information on the streets. Says it's a shame, because they were lovely ladies. I hear ya, mac. If only they'd been ugly, it would have been okay.

Nobody wandering the streets knows anything about anything. I guess I might as well go talk to Silda the Unseen... and she too knows absolutely nothing either. Well, shit. Might as well follow the most obvious of obvious clues to its end. I was looking for some depth to this quest case, but apparently not. Actually, I guess in a way I got it, because a depth of Planck length is still a depth.

The house is full of more non-clues. After a minute of desultory searching, I just decide to randomly interact with everything and pick up every item I can, because my journal is bound to update some time. After finding a bunch of pamphlets, a pair of journals, a hidden room with an evil altar surrounded by corpses and skeletons behind a hidden wardrobe door that might have been more impressive had I not just recently seen an identical one in the basement of an inn, and last but not least a jade amulet, I dejectedly wander back out of the house, on toward the next clue in this linear and obvious mockery of a mystery. Still, I guess I shouldn't be so hard on the designers murderer, he did his best to cover his tracks, and all this would undoubtedly tax the intellect of the average Skyrim inhabitant. Has, actually, considering that this is the third body and the guards haven't been able to figure shit out yet. On my way up to the palace to ask Jorlief about the amulet, I bump into Viola Giordano.

Giordano. Viola Giordano. Probably named for her figure. The lady has always been a prodnose, always looking into other people's private business. And that's my job. She and I go way back. She gives me a sultry look and a come-hither grin. I respond with my trademarked stoic look.
"How's it shakin, Mace?"
"Can't complain. How's tricks?"
"Turning well."
"What?"
"I'm turning tricks. For a living."
"Uh..."
"Interested in me, are you?"
"Lady, please go away."

Viola Giordano ignores the amulet and grabs the journal, reads it in the blink of an eye, and tells me that the Wuunferth the Unliving must be the murderer, and I've got to get him arrested. Nah, I think I'll just go kill the fucker. Because I'm sure that's what's going to happen. I'll confront him, maybe with a guard or two at my back, he'll use some necromantic hocus-pocus and slaughter the guards, and then immediately forget his instakill magic and engage me in a good old-fashioned fight, whereupon I will remove his head from his shoulders with extreme prejudice, cue the grateful cheers of the populace, or at least a warm handshake from Jorleif and maybe a couple hundred gold, and on to the next mission. It occurs to me that my life is pretty bleak.

I figure I might as well check out this Wuunferth character. Lives up at the Palace. Nice digs, shame about the landlord.
Wuunferth, as expected, tries to push the blame off on someone else. Says he doesn't know who's committing the murders, but he knows the next one is going to happen tonight.
Good timing, like always. Gives me a chance to catch some shuteye before the game's on.

Wuunferth seems a little confused, stating that the College of Winterhold hasn't allowed necromancy for hundreds of years, which is obvious bunk. I should know, I'm a student there. He also says the jade amulet is actually the Necromancer's Amulet, and tells me I've made a grave mistake by not giving it to Calixto first, because now it'll remain a worthless piece of trash for the rest of my life instead of magically turning into something nice. He also tells me that he's been researching the murders, and I need to head to the stone quarter, wherever the hell that is, by midnight, because that's when the killer will strike again. I head out to where my quest pointer is pointing me, and proceed to wait.

For three days.

I've spent the last three goddamn days wandering around Windhelm, to various goddamn places, at various goddamn times, trying to find this goddamn killer and/or his next goddamn victim. I'll create my own victim if it'll just advance this stupid quest. Finally, I focus my Thu'um again to perform the WIKI Shout, and I gain the knowledge that the killer is Calixto, and that I've fucked things up by daring to speak to him before talking to the guard, so now he's locked in the manor waiting for me, and not in the stone quarter as advertised.

A quick trip to Hjerim, one dead Calixto, off to Jorleif for my reward, and I'm outta this stupid town. Permanently, if I have anything to say about it. I'm going down to the docks, catch a ship for Dawnstar, maybe something interesting will be happening there.

The name's Raiden. Mace Raiden, Private eye. And I'm retiring from this fucking job.

Next: Chapter 15, Imperials In The Stormcloak Capitol
Start at Chapter 1