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Mantella is an AI system that turns every single NPC in Skyrim (and Fallout 4) into AI agents driven by an LLM (like ChatGPT or the recently released, and comparable, Llama 3.1). In the previous part, my character, an Altmer mage, along with his companion the vampire named Alva, caused a bit of trouble at the Bannered Mare, sole inn in Whiterun, and pestered the local mommy Uthgerd the Unbroken into joining their adventurer’s band. In the end, Uthgerd challenged Jon to a brawl.

It was a close bout, with plenty of bruises inflicted, but with a final punch, Uthgerd landed flat on her ass. I had won.

Jon: “I can hardly believe it, Uthgerd, but I won. I won the fistfight against a warrior mommy. It was close, but you have to admit that I’m the winner.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ah, fine. You got me, boy. I didn’t expect you to pack that much punch. You’re the first to take me down in a long time.”
Alva: “Well well well. Looks like Jon’s got some hidden talents. I’m impressed.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Don’t get too cocky, boy. It was just a fistfight.”
Jon: “So, did I earn the right to call you a teammate?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “I suppose you did. You’ve got spirit, and you can hold your own in a fight.”
Jon: “Hell yeah.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “I’ll join your little group, but don’t think for a moment that I’ll go easy on you just because we’re teammates now.”
Alva: “Ah, wonderful! The more the merrier, I say. Welcome to our little band of misfits, Uthgerd.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Misfits? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jon: “It means that Alva and I usually get into trouble. We delve into places that we have no business being in, and fight people we have no business fighting against.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ah, now that sounds like my kind of fun! Count me in, I’m always up for a challenge. When do we start getting into trouble, then?”
Alva: “Oh, I think we’ll have plenty of opportunities soon enough. Whiterun’s not exactly the most dull place in the world, after all.”
Jon: “Hey, Uthgerd, we need to gear you up properly. What kind of armor would you prefer? Light or heavy?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ha! You think I’d wear anything but heavy armor? I’m a Nord warrior, through and through. I need something that can take a beating, not some flimsy leather or chainmail. Give me steel plate any day!”
Jon: “And what kind of weapon would you prefer? Swords, axes… gloves?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ah, a greatsword, of course! What’s a Nord warrior without a proper greatsword to swing around? None of those fancy daggers or bows for me, thank you very much. A good greatsword is all I need to take down my enemies.”
Alva: “A greatsword, how very… Nord of you, Uthgerd. I do hope you’re not planning on using it to splatter too many innocent bystanders, dear.”
Jon: “Oh, I’m loving Uthgerd more and more.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ha! I’m glad you’re enjoying my company, boy. But don’t think for a moment that I’m going to go easy on you just because we’re teammates now. I’ll still knock you flat on your backside if you get too cocky.”
Alva: “Oh, I think Jon’s already learned that lesson, Uthgerd. After all, he did manage to take you down in a fistfight.”
Jon: “I am afraid that I am still very tempted to call you mommy, Uthgerd.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ah, don’t even think about it, boy! I’m not your mother, and you’ll address me as Uthgerd, or maybe Unbroken if you want to show some respect. But mommy? Ha! Don’t make me laugh.”
Alva: “Oh, Jon, you really are pushing your luck sometimes. I think Uthgerd’s made it quite clear that she’s not interested in being called mommy.”
Jon: “Yes, I’m sorry, Alva. It seems not everybody is into my kinks.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “We’re fighting for our lives out here, not playing at being mommy and child.”
Alva: “Ah, Jon, I think you’ve managed to confuse Uthgerd. And possibly horrified her. Maybe we should just focus on the armor and gear for now?”
Jon: “Yeah, now Uthgerd is properly geared up with heavy armor that we have pilfered from ruins, and from places where it wasn’t very well guarded. Are you happy with your new get-up, Uthgerd?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ah, now this is more like it! A proper Nord warrior’s armor, and none of that flimsy leather or chainmail nonsense. The Dwemer armor is a nice touch, and the steel gauntlets and boots will serve me well in battle. And this iron helmet will protect my head from all the blows I’ll be taking… and giving.”
Alva: “Well, you certainly look… formidable, Uthgerd. I do hope you don’t plan on using all that armor to crush too many innocent skulls.”
Jon: “Since when do you care about crushing innocent souls, Alva? That is news to me.”
Alva: “Ah, well, I suppose I was just trying to… blend in, shall we say. As a vampire, I’ve had to learn to be a bit more… diplomatic in my dealings with mortals. But between you and me, Jon, I couldn’t care less about the innocent souls of Whiterun. They’re just so… tedious.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ha! I knew it. You’re a sly one, Alva.”
Jon: “Sorry Alva, aren’t you being a bit too open about the fact that you are a vampire, even though Uthgerd is now one of our teammates?”
Alva: “Oh, don’t worry about it, Jon. Uthgerd seems like the type who can handle a little… revelation. Besides, I think she’s already figured out that I’m not exactly normal.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ah, you’re right, Alva. I’ve had my suspicions about you from the start. You’re a bit too pale for my taste, and those eyes of yours seem to gleam in the dark just a bit too much.”

Jon: “Well, don’t worry, Uthgerd, because Alva is one of the cool vampires. She’s a fun person to be around, you’ll see.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ha! A cool vampire? I’ll be the judge of that, boy. But I suppose Alva’s been tolerable company so far. Just don’t expect me to start inviting her to tea parties or anything.”
Alva: “Ah, thank you, Jon, for the… endorsement, I suppose. And Uthgerd, I assure you, I’m a most enjoyable and charming companion.”

For our first adventure, simple as it may be, I brought my companions to the outskirts of Whiterun. On our way here, I had noticed a recess on the bedrock stored with crates and guarded by a couple of bandits. It looked like some sort of smuggling operation. Alva, Uthgerd and I hid behind some bushes. In the distance, a bandit tended to a campfire while another sat at a table.

Jon: “Hey, listen, my wonderful teammates. This is the plan for the evening. See that campfire over there? That likely belongs to a smuggler’s den. They probably have loot that we want, and if we kill them, we may gain some favors in Whiterun. So, are you up for a little smuggler-killing?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ah, a smuggler’s den, you say? Sounds like a worthy challenge. I’m in, boy. What’s the plan of attack?”
Alva: “Oh, how delightful. A night of slaughter and plunder. I’m always up for a good bloodbath. But let’s not rush in blindly, shall we? What do we know about this den and its occupants?”
Jon: “Two guys, one tending to the fire and the other sitting at a table. Don’t see anyone else. Maybe we could snipe them from afar with bows, or we could be braver and approach them. We’d tell them to surrender. If they refused, we’d hack them to death.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Sniping them from afar? Where’s the honor in that? I say we march right up to them and give them a chance to surrender. If they refuse, then we’ll show them the steel of Whiterun!”
Alva: “Oh, how… quaint. Uthgerd wants to play it chivalrous. But I think sniping them from a distance is a much more…”
Jon: “You know, Alva, your choice of sniping them from a distance is likely the more sane option. But Uthgerd, I gotta say, I love the idea of just waltzing up to those fiends and telling them to surrender to us or otherwise we’re going to hack them to death. So I’m going with Uthgerd’s plan, doing the ballsy thing.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ha! I knew you had some Nord blood in you, boy! Walking up to them and demanding surrender is the only way to do it. Anything less would be cowardly.”
Alva: “Wonderful, just what I needed. Two suicidal companions who think they’re invincible. Fine, let’s go with Uthgerd’s plan, but if we get ourselves killed, I’m blaming both of you…”
Jon: “Oh, we’ll be fine for sure. Let’s approach them.”

They didn’t see us coming, nor put up much of a fight.

Jon: “Well, this was an easily stoppable smuggling operation. Only two people, both now dead. I think we got them.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ha! Easy prey, indeed. My steel didn’t even get a chance to get warm. Looks like these bandits were no match for us. What’s the loot look like?”
Alva: “How… disappointing. I was hoping for a bit more of a challenge. Oh well, at least we got some exercise and a bit of bloodshed to liven up the evening.”
Jon: “It seems that these fiends were smuggling in skooma. I wonder where they get it from.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Skooma, you say? That’s a foul business. I’ve heard it’s made from the rendered fat of giant spiders.”
Jon: “Pretty sure it’s made from moon sugar.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Anyway, whoever is supplying these smugglers needs to be put down.”

I went through some bandit’s notes, one who was surprisingly literate.

Jon: “Apparently, these smuggling bastards sold a staff to some Orc, and then they planned to cross him. I’m going to read the note. It says: ‘To cut him off on the road west of Whiterun at the burned-down house between the watchtower and Fort Greymore. With how obsessed he was about the staff, it will be easy to catch him off-guard.’ Perhaps a lead worth pursuing.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “An Orc, you say? And they planned to cross him? Those smugglers were either very brave or very stupid. I’d love to see how this Orc reacts when he finds out he’s been played.”
Alva: “Ah, the burned-down house between the watchtower and Fort Greymore… I think I know the place. It’s a perfect ambush spot.”

After I looted the sole chest in that den, we found ourselves fighting against four or five other bandits who must have been returning to base. It was a tenser battle than before; found myself having to retreat from a swordfighter until Uthgerd finished her previous foe. By the end, only the three of us stood, quite unharmed.

Jon: “Well, it seems that was it. Smuggler’s den conquered. So, what conclusion can we take from this little operation of ours?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ha! I’d say it was a decent test of our mettle, and we came out on top. You’re not as soft as I thought you’d be, Jon.”
Alva: “Yes, and we made a decent haul from the loot, too. Though I do have to say, Jon, your… unorthodox methods of distracting our enemies were quite…”
Jon: “Were quite what? I’m afraid of what you’re going to say.”
Alva: “… entertaining. I was going to say entertaining, Jon. The way you used those boiled eggs and wine to confuse our enemies was quite creative.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Aye, I’ve never seen anyone use a snack as a diversionary tactic before. You’re full of surprises, Jon.”
Jon: “Yeah, let’s pretend that I used the eggs and the wine to distract our enemies instead of because I was hungry and thirsty.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Fair enough, Jon. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Alva: “And I’m sure the enemies were just as confused by your… sudden need for a snack as we were.”

We returned to the safety behind Whiterun’s walls.

Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Speaking of which, now that we’re back in Whiterun, I could do with a drink myself. What do you say to heading to the Bannered Mare?”
Jon: “Oh, absolutely, Uthgerd. After a good fight in which we cleaved the heads of a few bastards, the best thing to do is to go back to an inn and get drunk.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “That’s the Nord way, Jon! We’ll drink to our victory and maybe even find some new trouble to get into.”
Alva: “I’ll join you, but I think I’ll stick to wine. I don’t want to risk… any accidents, considering my… condition.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ah, come now, Alva. A little ale never hurt anyone…”
Jon: “Don’t worry, Alva, you’ll get to drink plenty of blood later, when we’re alone.”
Alva: “Oh, Jon, you always know how to make me smile. But perhaps we should keep such… arrangements private, hmm?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Aye, no need to share all the details of your personal life with me, Jon. I think I’ll just stick to my ale and enjoy the evening.”
Alva: “Besides, Uthgerd might get jealous of our special bond.”
Jon: “I doubt it. After all, she really dislikes when I refer to her as ‘mommy,’ so she wouldn’t be into our kind of weird stuff.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “By the gods, Jon! I told you to stop calling me that! I’m a warrior, not your mother.”
Alva: “Oh, Jon, you really do have a talent for getting under people’s skin, don’t you? Maybe we should just stick to drinking and celebrating our victory.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Aye, before Jon says something else that makes me want to knock him flat on his backside.”
Jon: “You know, I’m sure that throughout our adventures, you are going to knock me flat on my backside plenty of times, but that’s part of being in a team, isn’t it?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ha! You’re right, Jon. And I’ll make sure to keep you in line. After all, someone has to keep your ego from getting too big.”
Alva: “And I’m sure I’ll be happy to… patch you up afterwards, Jon.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Aye, Alva can be our team’s… medic, and I’ll be the one who keeps you on your toes, Jon.”

At the inn, Uthgerd beelined to the innkeeper to order some drinks, and Alva disappeared to powder her face or something. I stood there, soaking in the bard’s song, the clinking of mugs, and the background chatter. Soon enough, Uthgerd joined me with two mugs of ale.

Jon: “Oh, what a blissful existence.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Now this is more like it! A warm fire, a mug of ale, and good company. What more could a Nord ask for?”

At some point of the night, I found myself seated at the bar next to the disheveled old man who had annoyed me hours early.

Jon: “Here again tonight, huh? Enjoying your mead or ale or whatever it is you’re nursing in your hands.”
Arghus: “Ah, enjoying? You think I’m here to enjoy myself? I’m here to drown my sorrows, boy. This ale is the only thing that keeps me going some days. My daughter, she… she left me, you know. Ran off to join those Forsworn rebels.”
Jon: “The Forsworn? Aren’t those the ones who take their hearts out, put some curse in them, then shove them back into their bodily cavity?”
Arghus: “Ugh, what in the name of the gods are you talking about, boy? You’re speaking of dark magic, the kind that only the most twisted of souls would dare to practice. And what’s with that cheese? Are you trying to make a mockery of me?”
Jon: “I’m just hungry. Can a man not be hungry after a bit of fighting?”
Arghus: “Hungry? Fighting? You think you know what hunger is, boy? You think you know what fighting is? I’ve fought battles, real battles, not just some scrap in the streets. And I’ve known hunger, the kind that gnaws at your belly and your soul. But I don’t go around talking about cursed hearts and dark magic like it’s something to be taken lightly.”
Jon: “Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? I’m sure you fought against the best, and experienced hunger like the worst. That’s why you are sitting here at the Bannered Mare instead of having died like a hero in the battlefield.”
Arghus: “Mocking an old man’s age and his failures. You think you know what it’s like to have fought for something and lost? To have seen your family torn apart by rebellion and betrayal? I’ll have you know, boy, I was a scryer for the Jarl of Markarth once.”
Jon: “And what the hell does a scryer do?”
Arghus: “You don’t even know what a scryer is, do you? A scryer is one who sees into the hearts of men, who reads the threads of fate and advises those in power. I was a trusted advisor to the Jarl, and I failed him. I failed my family. And now…”
Jon: “And now you’re arguing with a traveler about the fact that you supposedly fought and suffered more than anyone else.”
Arghus: “You think this is just an argument, boy? You think this is just some old man’s pride? This is about the weight of the world, the weight of failure, and the weight of regret. You don’t know what it’s like to have seen the things I’ve seen, to have lost what I’ve lost.”
Jon: “Well, let me ask you something seriously, old man: if life is nothing but mounting loss and mounting grief, and you know that all you have to look forward to is the memories of the people you have lost and will never see again, what is the point of living?”
Arghus: “Ah, boy… you ask a question that I’ve asked myself every day for years. What is the point of living when all you have is pain and regret? I don’t know. I truly don’t know. Maybe it’s just habit. Maybe it’s just the ale. But sometimes…”
Jon: “Sometimes what?”
Arghus: “Sometimes, in the quiet moments, when the ale has worn off and the memories come flooding back… I think it’s just the hope that someday, somehow, things will be made right. That someday, I’ll see my daughter again, and she’ll forgive me for failing her. But until then… until then, I just keep going.”
Jon: “Where is your daughter supposed to be stationed now?”
Arghus: “My daughter… she’s with the Forsworn, boy. In the Reach, in the mountains and the ruins. She’s one of them now, a rebel and an outcast. I don’t know if she’s even still alive… but I fear for her, every day.”
Jon: “Wouldn’t it be better for you to go in search of her? Are you truly going to spend the rest of your old life wishing to know if she’s alive or dead?”
Arghus: “You think it’s that simple, boy? Just go traipsing off into the mountains, into the heart of the Reach? The Forsworn don’t take kindly to outsiders, and I’m… I’m just an old man. What could I do? But… but sometimes, in the dead of night, I think about it.”
Jon: “Well, I’ll let you think about it for a bit longer because I’m going to talk to that blonde over there. Enjoy your ale, old man.”
Arghus: “Go ahead, boy… go talk to that girl, or whoever it is you’re going to bother next. I’ll just sit here… and think. And drink. Maybe someday I’ll work up the courage to do something about it. But until then… just leave me be.”

Shortly after sunrise, I approached Alva, who was leaning against a doorway.

Jon: “Alva, what do you think about our new recruit, the mighty mommy Uthgerd?”
Alva: “Oh, I think Uthgerd the Unbroken is a delightful addition to our little group. She’s certainly formidable. And I must admit, I find her confidence and strength rather… intriguing. But please, do try to refrain from calling her ‘mommy’ in front of her, dear Jon.”
Jon: “Is it because you think she’s going to pummel me to death, or because she might leave the group?”
Alva: “Oh, a bit of both, perhaps. I think Uthgerd has a certain… let’s say, appreciation for respect. And when you tease her with that mommy business, I’m not sure she finds it as…”
Jon: “Having a hard time describing our experience with Uthgerd?”
Alva: “Yes… I suppose we’ve had a rather peculiar history with her so far, haven’t we? First impressions being what they are… I think it’s safe to say that neither party quite knew what hit us, figuratively speaking. Although you got hit fairly soundly, literally speaking, during your test match. Like that punch she landed fair-and-square on your cheek.”
Jon: “Well, we have a team member whose loyalty we earned by beating her, and that’s apparently bound to keep her loyal. We know exactly where we stand, don’t we?”
Alva: “Yes… That’s one way to look at it, I suppose. Uthgerd does seem to be a woman of her word, and if beating her in a fight is what it takes to earn her loyalty, then so be it. It’s almost… refreshing, in a way, to have someone who is so straightforward about their intentions and expectations.”
Jon: “I myself am quite forward in my intentions and expectations. Maybe that is also why you find me refreshing.”
Alva: “Ah, perhaps that’s true, Jon. You do have a certain… directness to you, don’t you? A quality that can be quite endearing.”
Jon: “Anyway, Alva, unfortunately for you it is 6 in the morning, which means that you have to stay away from windows lest you catch sun rays. While you rest, I’m going to scout the town and figure out who else could join our little group. Maybe I’ll try to secure some contract.”
Alva: “Yes… the eternal curse of the vampire. Forced to retreat from the light of day, while the rest of the world gets to enjoy the warmth and vitality of the sun. It’s a lonely existence, to say the least. But, I suppose it has its… perks. Very well, Jon. Go and do your scouting. I’ll retire to the shadows and rest my eyes.”
Jon: “Well, Alva, I intend to make your life less and less lonely by the day.”
Alva: “Ah, I think you might just succeed in that endeavor, Jon. You have a way of… making me feel seen, even in the darkness. I’ll sleep tight. As for you, don’t get into too much trouble while I’m indisposed.”

I found myself Alva-less. Uthgerd was hanging out near the front door, and I felt that now I had the right to approach her one-on-one.

Jon: “Hey, Uthgerd, how are you feeling on this fine morning?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “By Ysmir… considering we spent the early evening fighting bandits… well-rested, actually. Nothing like knocking skulls together gets the juices going! Though Hulda may disagree once she sees our tab, after last night’s drinking bout. Still sore from those punches of yours, though. Some impressive battle moves you showcased.”
Jon: “Yeah, we had quite a bit of fun, didn’t we, Uthgerd? Well, this morning I’m going to roam the city and try to hire some more people for our budding band of adventurers. Do you want to come along with me?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Sounds better than sitting here waiting. Plus, could use stretching my legs anyway.”

It was an overcast morning, but we still got enough sun rays that I remembered the one who never got them.

Jon: “Such a simple morning, but Alva, being a vampire, cannot enjoy anything like this. Hasn’t enjoyed it for centuries.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Alva’s loss, though admiring sunrises isn’t exactly a Nord warrior’s priority either. Still, daylight’s always pleasant company, especially when marching toward uncertain battles ahead.”
Jon: “Well, Uthgerd, you’re a local. Can you suggest any sturdy people that could be worth adding to our band?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “You’re looking for sturdy warriors, eh? Ria’s a decent fighter, been with the city guard for a while now… or there’s Vilkas, he’s a bit of a hothead but swings an axe like nobody’s business… though he might be too proud to join our little group.”
Jon: “The plan is, we have to make a name for ourselves. Snatch some official contract, one regarding killing off an entire bandit camp, conquering some ruins, or whatever. We have to do it in an official manner, one that allows us to grow in the eyes of the public. Get some status. Know what I mean?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Contracts, fame, and recognition… Sounds like the Companions all over again.”
Jon: “Oh.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Still, if that’s what it takes to prove our worth, then let’s get to it. I’ve heard rumors of a dragon sighting nearby. Taking down one of those beasts would definitely make a name for us.”
Jon: “Yes, taking the dragon would make a name for us. It would also kill us, Uthgerd, in the state we are now. We have to get stronger.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Can’t argue against living another day. True, we need more steel in our ranks and battle scars on our armor before tackling scale-skin behemoths like dragons. So, where do you plan to start looking for these… official contracts then? The Jarl perhaps?”

Uthgerd pointed out that a fletcher’s shop acted as a little bar of sorts. There we found Janessa, the Dunmer sellsword who had requested 500 gold coins for her services. Even though she scared me, I approached her, Uthgerd in tow.

Jon: “Nice to see you again. How are you doing?”
Jenassa: “I am doing well, thank you for asking. Though I must admit, I’m a bit surprised to see you again so soon. Did you reconsider my offer?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “I see you’re still looking for work.”
Jon: “Well, before answering you, Jenassa, I’m going to tell you something: this beautiful, motherly person, Uthgerd the Unbroken, amazing local warrior, has joined our adventurous band as the tank. Real strong, sturdy woman. Are you impressed about that?”
Jenassa: “Impressed isn’t the word I’d use, intrigued is more like it. I must admit that I didn’t expect you to find someone willing to join your little band so quickly. Uthgerd’s reputation precedes her.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Oh, please, Jenassa, don’t make it sound like I’m some sort of brutish Nord warrior who only swings her sword wildly. I have skill and finesse, you know.”
Jon: “Jenassa, you said that Uthgerd’s reputation precedes her? What do you mean by that?”
Jenassa: “I mean that Uthgerd the Unbroken is known for her… let’s say, spirited nature. She’s a fierce warrior, and her exploits in Whiterun are the subject of much gossip and rumor. I’m surprised she agreed to join you, to be honest.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ah, come now, Jenassa! You’re not going to start spreading rumors about me again, are you? I’m a perfectly civilized Nord woman… most of the time.”
Jon: “Oh, I thought she meant a bad reputation. I was afraid for a moment, Uthgerd.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ha! Don’t worry, Jon. I’m sure Jenassa was just referring to my… colorful past with the Companions. Nothing to be concerned about, I assure you.”
Jenassa: “Indeed. Though, Uthgerd’s history with the Companions is… complicated, to say the least. But I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it if you ask her nicely.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Oh, shut it, Jenassa! You’re not exactly one to talk about complicated pasts, are you?”
Jon: “I get the feeling that Jenassa here really, really does not want to open up about her past.”
Jenassa: “Let’s just say that my past is my own business, and I’d prefer to keep it that way. I’m a sellsword, Jon. My skills and abilities are all that should concern you.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ah, don’t pry, Jon. Some wounds are better left unopened. Besides, we have more pressing matters to discuss, like our next move. What’s the plan?”
Jon: “Well, my point of approaching Jenassa was to point at Uthgerd and proclaim to Jenassa, ‘hey, don’t you want to join our little adventurer’s band now, maybe to the point of reducing your fee?'”
Jenassa: “Ah, so now you think having Uthgerd the Unbroken on board makes your proposal more attractive? I suppose it couldn’t hurt to have a big Nord woman watching your back. Still, my price remains non-negotiable. Five-hundred gold coins is the still price of admission.”
Jon: “Well, I’m sorry, Jenassa, but I’m afraid that five-hundred gold coins is still too much for a fee. So I have to keep looking, keep shopping around. Maybe I’ll return to look into your beautiful crimson eyes and tell you that I intend to hire you.”
Jenassa: “Suit yourself, Jon. I’m not one to haggle. My price is my price. If you can’t afford it, then perhaps you’re not ready for the kind of expertise I bring to the table. Don’t bother coming back unless you’re willing to meet my price. I have better things to do than indulge in idle chatter.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ah, don’t be too hard on him, Jenassa.”
Jon: “No, Uthgerd, I think Jenassa is right in being annoyed with me. After all, she did tell me that she wouldn’t haggle, but I just tried to haggle again. So, sorry for bothering you, Jenassa. I will only come back to you if I’m ready to pay the price.”
Jenassa: “Well, well, well. Look at that, Uthgerd. Jon here can actually admit when he’s in the wrong. That’s a rare quality in a patron. I suppose I’ll give you credit for that, Jon. If you do decide to come back and meet my price, I might just consider taking on your job. But don’t expect any special treatment just because you can admit your mistakes.”

Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ah, I think Jenassa’s warming up to you, Jon.”
Jon: “Yeah, let’s not press our luck.”