Adults Only: The Brigand Diaries Returns

[uptower]

Once when I was a lad, the mercenaries I wandered with lost their leader. It had been weeks since a raid or battle and we had won no plunder or women. The gang simply beat him up one night, took his sword and armor and told him to walk away and not come back. He was lucky they hadn't killed him. He had become complacent, satisfied with the gold and women we already had. I watched on, too young to understand the politics of it then, but learning all too quickly. It was then I thought I'd be better alone one day – no stomach for politics.

 

 

Fridas 4^th Hearth Fire:

 

The mornings suddenly feel cooler, but that might be my imagination. Autumn quickens the spirit, makes me restless. I yearn for the road, for some action.

 

A bandit chief must be a gold-giver, he must provide his gang with opportunities for plunder. Ogrim knew this and knew I was always more worried about myself. So now I have to show that I want them to be rich too. We met again, fewer now and weaker. The consensus was that Half Moon was a ripe and rich target. It would have to be the last for a while. It would make us wanted in three holds and we might invite more trouble at the camp.

 

 

   

 

 

We simply walked into the town, found the captain of the guard and started swinging. There was a big fight at the south end of the bridge and the captain and one guard died badly. We turned to face a wandering mage and another guard on the bridge and a battle ensued. Cass was wounded and stumbled, so was Skirnyr but he got back into the fight and seemed to be doing alright. We took them down in splashes of blood and shouts of anger and pain. When the air had settled, Skirnyr lay mortally wounded. There was nothing we could do.

 

 

           

 

 

Knowing there would be more guards holed up in the barracks we decided to leave them in there. We didn't need a repeat of the bloodbath at Hroldan and they wouldn't venture out anyway, cowards. But there were still guards at the post at either end of the town and apart from lobbing the odd arrow, they dared not approach.

 

We captured several villagers in the center of town, between the bridge and the inn. One or two put up too much of a fight and died for it. We stole what we could and shared the two women that were there: the Orc had a Breton and I got to fuck that Bosmer woman I wanted.

 

 

                

 

 

Folk would be barricaded in their homes by now and even if we fought our way into one, we'd likely get surrounded when the guards came out. With the loss of Skirnyr, some of the gang lost stomach for a fight. We stripped the corpses and took the valuables from the captives. We were forced to retreat, rather than face the guard posts or brave the barracks. 

 

We decided to scatter. I told everyone to split, find their own way out in ones and twos, and we'd meet back at Gildur's monument near the road to Rorikstead. It was our first real defeat.

 

 

[uptower]

Production note:

The Half Moon battle was a nightmare of crashes and restarts. Any attempt to approach the guards at the north or south ends of the town met with CTDs. Attempting to enter buildings also caused problems. I put it down to an aging PC and a heavy workload: too many followers, big battles with mod-generated NPCs and the excellent expanded Half Moon Village mod: just too much happening at once.  The RAM defeated me as much as the guards, not that I'd have braved the barracks anyway! The scatter and meet at the monument storyline was a direct result; the only way out of a loop of crashes was to fast travel somewhere still vanilla and do an 'adventurers assemble' call to rally my followers. It fit the story however after the death of a gang member: bandits are supposed to hit and run anyway.  We're cowards, not heroes.

[aillerit]

This is a great story, I love the way that it is played out, not just choreographed and photographed. 

 

[uptower]

This is a great story, I love the way that it is played out, not just choreographed and photographed. 

I had to cheat a little: made some followers nonessential and lowered the difficulty to make the guards easier to kill.  Some of the plotlines are embellishments based on system glitches.  For example when Ogrim rapes Indora it was because she somehow got caught in a melee and became an enemy, and got knocked down: when I found him plowing her in a field (pardon the pun) I decided to use the images for story arc.

[uptower]

Fridas 4^th Hearth Fires:

 

The gang assembled at the monument and luckily everyone had made it out. What to do now? We decided we'd have to leave, go somewhere far away from the hold guards and the imperials.

 

    

 

Tal once lived in Windhelm and talked about laying low there, since Ulfric and his Stormcloaks are the only authority we haven't pissed off yet. His kind aren't popular but they have a quarter in the city where everyone pretty much lets them be. Eastmarch is Stormcloak territory, and they have no quarrel with us.

 

The elf girl suggested going south. Maybe we'd get as far as the Rift or even over the mountains into Cyrodil. The Orc and the Argonian said they'd follow wherever. Misfits themselves, they have nowhere to go.

 

Cass said she'd had enough though. She couldn't stomach the loss of any more of the group. I think she saw our fortunes declining. She took her share of the plunder and told us she would strike out alone. As a hunter she could survive anywhere. Her bow might be welcome with another gang somewhere in Whiterun hold. Either way, she figured she was better off without us. Probably right.

 

     

 

We were saddened to see her go, as we were by Skirnyr's loss, but she had earned the right to leave and perhaps a part of me envied her.

[uptower]

Loredas 5^th Hearth Fires:

 

So now we are five.

 

Cass gave us a parting tip: that in the east there were hot springs and hunter camps and no Imperials or Thalmor. It was a wild, lawless area where we'd fit in just fine if we didn't upset the Stormcloaks. From there we could easily get to Windhelm and lay low.

 

  

 

But how to get there? We could cross Whiterun bypassing the city through the moors, however there were many patrols and nobody wanted to face the guards or the Empire. The road from Whiterun to Eastmarch was a bottleneck along the White River and we needed open country.

 

So it would have to be south, take the forest paths through the back country of Falkreath, skirt the towns and push over the mountains and down through the Rift via Ivarstead. As long as we avoid patrols we should make it as far as the mountain pass and then we'll be free. First we had to go back for our stashes.

 

We got back to the camp to find the Forsworn women had finally fled. They'd taken the spare horse, probably led it since neither could ride. They'd also gotten some provisions, but hadn't dared to venture into the ruins to find my stash.

 

   

 

It was a sacred place for them and taboo, so they never went in. Skirnyr once tried to lure the Shaman woman in there to have his way with her – as if privacy ever mattered to him. That was the one time she actually took him: just got down on the dirt and spread herself open rather than go into the crypts. The place never scared the rest of us.

 

With five of us now we spent a lonely last night at the camp. It had been a good place but it was finally time to move on. We loaded up just before the dawn and struck out south and east toward the Jerral Mountains and beyond, the Rift.

 

    

[uptower]

Sundas 6^th Hearth Fires:

 

We set out onto the road and crossed the trails into the Falkreath backwoods. A thick fog descended and the day was bleak and sullen. We passed some hunters, and skirted a bandit camp.  Fools came out running and we took them down, weren't more than half a dozen anyway. There were a couple of stragglers on the road who came at us all screaming.  they died much more quietly than they fought.

 

         

 

We noticed more signs of banditry: a burning cart on the trail, and a pallisaded fort tucked hard up against cliffs, but we avoided further trouble. the By late afternoon we'd passed the town of Falkreath and were ascending the foothills.

 

 

     

 

There was a bandit overwatch on the road, a tower where they'd try to trap travelers with falling boulder traps. We quickly killed one and I tied up the other - a half-redguard woman. I was going to have my way with her and she was patiently awaiting rape, knowing the laws of the road were if you take a blade to the highways your cunny will be part of the spoils.  But the elf-girl cut her down before I could start.  Said we mustn't linger in Falkreath, and she was right.

 

Not far later, we came across a cottage called Pinewatch that looked like a spot to lay up for the night. Entering cautiously, we found a bandit woman guarding it – probably associated with the two in the guard tower down the road.

 

          

 

Tal was hungry for cunny and so he took her right there on the floor – didn't even bother with the nearby bed. After he was done we made the woman cook for us. The Orc was going to have a go in the morning but when we untied her she put up a fight and he killed her.

 

            

 

There was a secret door in the basement, but fearing ancient crypts, none of us had the stomach to enter. The elf didn't want to spend the night in a drafty cabin with a corpse and the possibility of ghosts or worse from the caverns below, but it was getting dark. She slept on the floor upstairs. None of us would have faced the underworld for that matter, as I said that's a job for the Dragonborn.

 

We saddled up next morning and continued up the mountain path toward the pass to the Rift.

 

[Guest]

This is awesome. Can't wait to read/see more.

[uptower]

Morndas 7^th Hearth Fires:

 

As we climbed the mountain pass the weather got colder, Snow piled up aside the road and the wind began to blow. We were not dressed for the cold but it was only a day's march over the hill so we decided to brave it. I spied horses in the trees, tethered and waiting and we went for a closer look.

 

 

 

It was a Stormcloak camp – those rebels that follow Ulfric of Windhelm. They are no friends to the Empire and care nothing for Thalmor either. That doesn't mean they tolerate bandits, as they are fighting to impose their own laws on the land, but we could pass as wandering adventurers on the road to Riften. Instead we decided to rob them.

 

We stood over the Nord rebels and ordered them to hand over their valuables and such was our reputation and as the camp was lightly guarded they did not resist. 

 

    

 

We shared of their food and the warmth of their fire. But the Orc decided to help himself to one of the women too and we came across him rutting her furiously.

 

     

 

As soon as he was done the Nord lass turned on him, claiming she was raped. That didn't go down well with the rest of the camp and swords were drawn. We cut them down and tied up their leader but the bastards fought hard. In the melee the Argonian was mortally wounded and we found him dead in the snow.

 

        

 

So we looted the camp, buried our dead companion and carried on over the pass, me chiding the Orc to keep his manhood in his breeches until I say so next time. We would miss the lizard's sword arm, but his companionship had ever be cold and quiet. When Tal said a few words over him, he recalled the time he took that Nord woman 'Black Marsh style' on the road to Markath.

 

      

 

That was pretty much our only memory of him as he'd usually kept to himself.

[uptower]

Production Note:

 

Many of these shenanigans come out of just playing with the engine and the mods.  Never expected the stormcloaks to hand over their valuables without a fight, but my notoriety is through the roof with a bounty of thousands. Thank the 'become a bandit' mod for that one.  Likewise the rape of the stormcloak woman was me dicking with the controls: I knew Defeat lets you rape someone sleeping if you can sneak up on them, but I wanted to see if you could order a follower to do so too. Turns out you can. Only when he was done, she took offense naturally, attacked him and of course the whole camp jumped in.  Happy times.

[uptower]

Tirdas 8^th Hearth Fires:

 

 

We headed on up over Haemar's Pass, a bleak, desolate winter waste dotted with small monuments, ruins and caverns where it is said the dead walk. We ventured not into these dark places, but stayed on the path, passing couriers and travelers along the way.

 

Two of these were a farming couple and rather than rob them – for they looked like they had nothing – we instead asked them for news of what lay ahead. They said they had fled their farmstead when a dragon burned it down. Perhaps the same one that men say destroyed Helgen. They were delirious and could tell us nothing more.

 

       

 

As we descended the pass, the weather warmed and the trees took leaf, it was like walking into autumn again. Not far along into the rift there was a small shack that looked well-kept but unoccupied.

 

    

 

The horse needed rest, we all did. I sent the Orc and the Dunmer to forage and hunt, while the elf girl and I spent some time together on the shack's sturdy bed. She was passionate and rode me hungrily. I came long and hard in her and we lay together a while after until a commotion roused us.

 

                          

 

Just as I came outside I saw a flash of white and heard the whinny of my horse. Suddenly Tal and the Orc were locked in a melee with a massive white bear. They cut the beast down but it had chased off the horse. I found it a little way down the road as we continued on toward Ivarstead.

 

          

[uptower]

Middas 9^th Hearth Fires:

 

 

We arrived quietly in Ivarstead, a quiet little hamlet itself. Nobody knew us here, not what we'd done in the reach, Whitrerun or Falkreath. The Stormcloaks at the camp were all dead so word would not travel over Haemar's pass.

 

 

 

Posing as adventurers we sold what we could but were careful not to offload any Stormcloak weapons or armor. As it was early in the day there was no need to stop by the tavern. According to the guards the road descending north along the river would eventually lead to the hot springs and the open wastes of Eastmarch. The next town is Darkwater Crossing, another little hamlet built around a mine. But we were told the roads were treacherous with wild animals.

 

We set off down the hill and discussed what to do with the Stormcloak kit. We'd have to bury it somewhere and come back for it for it would be too dangerous to sell in Windhelm.

 

 

 

Suddenly the horse reared, a creature roared and a mass of shuffling hair and muscle lumbered toward us with surprising speed. At first I thought it was another bear but it was worse – a troll.

 

       

 

I slid out of the saddle as Tal and the Orc closed in and the elf girl readied a spell. We hacked and slashed at the beast and took a few deep scratches ourselves, and finally it collapsed before us. There were some dead bodies and loot in the troll's cave but we left the Stormcloak equipment we found. Hard enough to move that as it was.

 

The horse had bolted again and I couldn't find it anywhere this time. I had hoped to sell it somewhere down the road, perhaps in Windhelm, but we couldn't lose a day looking.

 

 

 

We carried on down the mountain trail, the throat of the World looming behind us and the open wilderness stretching out to cold seas ahead.

[uptower]

I love the road. I always say it. The road opens new opportunities, it quickens the spirit and sharpens the mind. It is freedom. Being cooped up in a bandit fort has it's attractions: food, wine, a bedroll, cunny on tap. But there's nothing like the freedom of not knowing what tomorrow brings. It's almost enough to make a man give up brigandage. Once I spent a long and quiet summer with an Akaviri woman in Anvil. The smell of the sea and gentle breezes wafting in, the roll of the waters, peace.

 

Turdas 10^th Hearth Fires:

 

The road opened up before us and we could now see the coast far beyond – even a glimpse of the city, still a couple of day's march. It was a beautiful, majestic sight and before the others could see I choked back a tear. We talked of taking ship to Sostheim, or of adventuring up the winter coast. We were almost giddy. The smell of the ocean will do that.

 

  

 

But not long down the road we tried to ford the rapids over a fallen log, and we were attacked by brigands on both sides. Us? Attacked by brigands? New hold I guess. I killed the fool on the log while the others chased down his companions.

 

    

 

I followed the trail down the other side of the river and came to a bridge. The others stayed on the same side and came up across the other side. I ran into another thief who tried to hold me up at the bridge. I told him to fuck off and he did.  Must be getting soft.  There was an imperial - a noble's escort, chasing the gang as they came up on us.  he died quicly enough.  Still wanted men, i suppose.

 

   

 

We caught our breath and carried on along the road, finally reaching Darkwater by late afternoon.  

 

 

[uptower]

It is easy to seduce fellow travelers. The road is full of lonely women. At Inns, or hunting camps, seaside ports there are always adventurers who haven't had any cock in a while. Usually it takes a few stories and a couple of drinks, sometimes less than that. I like the challenge, the anticipation. Though I often get bored of new lovers, when ships pass it the night they often leave fond memories.

 

Fridas 11^th Hearth Fires:

 

Darkwater was a sleepy mining village guarded by Stormcloaks. None of us were in a mood for a fight or plunder. We were allowed the use of the tents by the mine and told to stay out of trouble.

 

     

 

The others set about to rest, cleaning equipment or for the elf girl, scouting for ingredients. I asked the locals where the hot pools were and they told me not far away to the west. Nobody wanted to come along so I set out on my own, in need of a bath.

 

      

 

There were a few bathers and they welcomed me quietly. The men and women were hard types, like my gang. Hunters, adventurers, no doubt some bandits themselves. Some of the women were comely.

 

I stripped and talked to one lass for a while but she seemed cold. I saw another, just out of the bath and working the fire in the nude. She was a thickly built blonde Nord girl and she smiled over at me coyly a couple of times.

 

    

 

I approached her and simply suggested we do it in the tent right here. She clearly hadn't sampled any new men for a while and so we retreated to the tent and made love roughly and hungrily.

 

       

 

It was getting dark, so after laying in comfort a while, I headed back to the village. Had a good wash first of course and I was bone tired.

 

 

 

[uptower]

Loredas 12th Hearth Fires:

 

The elf-girl was gone in the morning.  She must have slipped quietly away in the night.  

 

 

Lovers come and go and we hadn't exactly started off on the right foot - capturing her in a village raid and spending the first night passing her around like a piece of meat.  But she had come to be a decent enough companion and always pulled her weight in battle.

 

But with so many of us dying or leaving she couldn't be expected to hang around.  Not as our fortunes declined so much.  The incident with ogrim probably hadn't helped - that had caused a rift in the group and I am sure was one of the reasons Cass left after the mess we made of the Half Moon attack.

 

So it is now just the three of us.  The Orc and the Dunmer had seen nothing.  The Bosmer are said to be famous for their light-footed woodcraft and it came as no surprise she left without a trace.  Didn't even rob us.  I contemplated loneliness for a while, but what i felt was more like losing a horse.  Or at least a dog.  Something of value but not irreplaceable.

 

 

Still, she was gone. It was time to move on.

 

[uptower]

Sundas 13th Hearth Fires:

 

We should have listened to those refugees.  We were still four then and still had a horse.

 

The Orc, Tal and I set off northwards.  Windhelm was perhaps a day's march.  But a day's march through treacherous swamps, bogs, bubbling mud pools and fissures that vented scalding steam.  There were wild cats and wolves, bears and worse out there.  A desolate wasteland where honest men rarely tread and bandits find refuge.  Bandits like us.

 

 

 

 

 

After some time there was a piercing scream from the sky.  We weren't sure what to make of it but it had seen us first.  A dragon, sleek and black, swooping down from out nightmares into the clear morning.

 

 

 

Perhaps it was the creature that had raised helgen.  Perhaps it was the one that had destroyed the farmers' homestead, the pair we met at Haemar's pass.  In any case it wasn't letting us cross the springs without a fight.  We drew blades and waited.  

 

 

 

 

A pair of bandits, rogues like us were not far off and it attacked them first.  We charged in, seeking strength in numbers but they were killed as we arrived. It flew, circled, landed, spewed frost then took off again.  We circled and jabbed, trying to bleed it out.  We were all scalded by its icy breath, cold as the underworld.  It rented at us with it's claws, driving us back as in snapped with massive fangs.

 

 

 

 

But finally the beast wast slain and it lay there...................right along side the Orc.

 

He had fallen in the battle and breathed his last.  We did not know the orcish burial customs so we put his weapons in the ground with him, so that he might have a means of protection in the afterlife.  The grave was unmarked so thieves would not rob him of his blade.

 

 

 

 

Wordlessly the last of us marched on toward the coast.

 

 

 

 

 

[uptower]

Morndas 14th Hearth Fires:

 

Tal and I found a trail that skirted the foothills and made our way along the path toward the coast.  We passed a hunter camp and I could have done with a little plunder and rape, but we decided to leave them be.  There were giants with their mammoths and we steered clear.

 

 

 

 

Some fool bounty hunter attacked us and we killed him easily.  We dumped the old stormcloak kit nearby the body so we wouldn't get caught with it going into Windhelm.

 

 

The town of Kynesgrove was a quiet place with an empty Inn.  They told us the city was only an hour or two down the road.  I felt a sense of urgency, like our luck was running out. Like there was somewhere I had to be.

 

 

 

 

[uptower]

By late afternoon the weather had turned cold and a vicious wind blew in.  As we descended the path to the coast snow began to blow in our faces.  At last we came to the walls of windhelm.

 

 

 

We crossed the great bridge over the inlet, by the harbor where ships waited to carry goods and folk to lands afar.   The guards told us to cause no trouble and opened the gates.  In we walked to find the magnificent great inn Candlehearth hall.  I had heard of it, as a den of sailors and pirates but this was the first time I had seen it.

 

  

 

Inside there were indeed sailors and I heard much talk of the harbor and which ships were going where.  I propositioned one tavern wench and was roundly rejected - not my fault she'd been dressed like a whore.  We rented rooms, drank into the night and lamented our lost friends.

 

  

 

In the morning we bought furs at the marketplace, much more comfortable now.  Tal wanted to see the Grey Quarter, so after lunch we headed over.  It seems a bastion of Morrowind - dark elf tapestries and lanterns and Dunmer folk milling about here and there.  At the cornerclub, a typical Dunmer tavern, we sat down for some matze, which turned out to be surprisingly good.

 

  

 

We discussed what to do thereafter.  A ship would be leaving for Solstheim today and from there perhaps another could take us to Vvardenfell. But Tal had tired.  We were both wealthy men now and there was no need he said to keep running.  He wanted to stay here, lay low among his people, perhaps marry and open a store.  I understood.

 

   

 

As I left the club and headed for the docks a young girl stopped me on the street.  She was selling flowers.  Perhaps out of pity i bought a bunch from her.  How many such orphans had we created.

 

    

 

Where will I go from here?  Take ship to Solstheim?  Follow the frozen coast around to Winterhold?  Return to the rift where I have no enemies.  The ocean smells inviting even as the chill wind bites.  Perhaps my days of brigandage are over too.

 

 

 

 

[Guest]

Awesome( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[uptower]

Well looks like the diaries will end here.  As a proof of concept it worked but being a brigand is something of a one-trick pony.  Also the weight of mods - SL and peripheries, followers, banditry and expanded towns - damn near broke the game.  I might revive it later in the year on a new PC but for now I've gone back to playing Morrowind.  Moving overseas in a month and have a lot on my plate.  Good run though, huh?

 

[originalwankster]

Really enjoyed following this story. Thanks, uptower.