Skyrim: The Real Enemy Is Horses: children are the future

After killing a horse, I pick flowers for a bit on my way back to not-vikings town and then decide to just fast travel. This town is really kind of a pain to get around, but I find my way back to the throne room in time to hear all about how a dragon has been seen, blah blah, I’m supposed to go help. No thank you, sir! Instead, I think I’ll wander around taking everything I can find that’s worth something and/or food. For whatever reason 99% of the stuff in here is free to take! That is awesome! I have a particular penchant for taking foodstuffs, so I load up on potatoes and carrots. You never know when you’re going to need to break out a really awesome stew in the wilderness, but to my dismay I keep getting overloaded and have to drop kettles in hallways. Even though I can take most things freely, I still decide to steal the things that are off limits in display cases. I’m pretty damn good at that unlock game.

Eventually I’ve bankrupted the people that live there and I head outside where I run immediately into a little girl that tells me in a really snotty tone that she’s not afraid of me even though I’m her elder.

After the jump, I punch the brat in the face.

So I punch the brat in the face. Unfortunately this isn’t Texas and immediately a soldier is demanding that I give him some gold or else! I’m fine with that, I’ve got enough stuff here to more than make up for that–oh, and he wants all my stolen goods too. How the hell does he even know they’re stolen? Are there big red stolen tags on things when I take them? If so, who puts them on there? Little fucking moral elves that follow me around?

God dammit. I really need to figure out where to sell that shit before this happens again. Which it will, cause that little fucker is still back-talking me, though now from across the square. I go to really teach her a lesson when I see that there’s a bunch of soldiers running around that want me to go with them. Eh, fine. I guess. Whatever. Maybe they can tell how thrilled I am because they just sort of take off without me. I’d rather kill that little girl than a dragon. Still, even though I trail way behind, the dragon is polite enough to wait for me to get there to attack.

Now first of all, let me tell you how sad this makes me. I want the dragons to be my god damn friends and they keep trying to fucking kill me! I arm up my bow and arrow and make sure I stay way, way back. I prove that I am a fucking heroic bad-ass yet again by never losing a hit point the entire time and I kill the dragon. As soon as it dies I race over to loot it and maybe apologize or shed a couple tears that I have no free will in this game, when suddenly all hell breaks loose and there’s some weird lights and then everyone is like oh shit you’re dragonborn!

I don’t know what that means, but everyone seems to think it’s cool. I do the shout thing, everyone loses their shit! They really seem to be in awe of me. I can live with that. They keep trying to talk to me, but I’m not interested. I’m sure there will be another talky fucker later on that I can’t walk away from telling me what my destiny is. I go make my way back to town, which is a slow process because apparently picking up a couple of dragon scales means I’m overloaded and can’t walk any faster than an 80 year old man that’s missing a leg. “Can’t run” my ass, I can barely fucking walk here! Still, I refuse to drop anything and as I approach the gate, Adam thinks it’s a great idea for me to try out my new shout ability.

“But I’ll get in trouble!” I say.

“Nah, it’ll be fine!” he says.

So I do. It’s just that there’s a guy on a cart there and he gets all knocked over and starts screaming about how he’s being attacked. Whoops! I hastily sheath my weapon and head inside as quickly as possible. Which is not fucking quickly because, again, 80 year old one legged man here.

It all pays off when I get to the castle though and the not-a-viking king actually seems really grateful! He says a lot of things, but only one that I really remember: that I just need to tell the guards who I am if I get in trouble. And who am I? A motherfucking hero!

I’m sure there’s more but I don’t wait to hear it. There’s a little girl I need to go teach some fucking manners to.

Up next: maps is hard
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When not killing horses, Marley enjoys fixing computers, digging up ancient civilizations, acting in terrible webisodes, and cats.