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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 the rest of the Frostpeak Stalkers, chatted with a pleasant old man, cleared out a small ancient ruin, then nearly died to a pissed-off wispmother. Once they rejoined their vampire companion Alva, they set off on the eastern road to Riften. As they braved the mountain pass, the cold and a snowstorm nearly froze them to death.

We, the Frostpeak Stalkers, were walking along a road that cut throw one of common birch forests of The Rift, the Skyrim hold whose capital was Riften. After facing that mountain pass and nearly dying, we were in paradise. That was until I stopped to read a sign.

Jon: “Ladies… we might have a problem of the stupid variety.”
Jenassa: “What kind of problem are we talking about, Jon?”
Alva: “Yes, do tell. We’ve faced our fair share of problems before, but a stupid one sounds… intriguing.”
Ria: “As long as it doesn’t involve more spiders, I’m game.”
Uthgerd: “Speak plainly, Jon. What’s troubling you this time?”
Jon: “That stupid lizard, Thrice-Bitten, the one who wrote a nasty letter to Ingun Black-Briar that could likely get him killed, told us that the courier carrying his letter likely stopped at Rorikstead, to the east of Falkreath. But on this sign, the only similarly named town close to this location is Ivarstead, not Rorikstead.”
Alva: “Let’s try to remember these locations correctly next time.”
Jon: “The problem isn’t that we didn’t remember the location correctly. I’m fairly sure that Thrice-Bitten, that goddamn lizard, told us the wrong location, and now I fear that we may have headed in the complete opposite direction.”
Uthgerd: “That’s a possibility, Jon. But let’s not jump to conclusions just yet.”

We were interrupted by a huge bear of all things, whose roar nearly made me shit myself. I would sell his pelt for good coin.

Jon: “It’s midnight, and we have finally, finally, finally reached a town. Ivarstead. Let’s hope that our courier has stopped here, as mentioned, the first town on the way over to Riften past the mountain pass, and that Thrice-Bitten just got the name of the town wrong.”
Uthgerd: “If we find that courier, we should make Thrice-Bitten pay for the misinformation. Leading us on a wild goose chase in this weather is inexcusable.”
Jenassa: “For now, let’s just concentrate on finding a warm place to rest. We can sort out the rest in the morning.”
Alva: “It’s so cold… let’s hurry and get inside before we freeze to death out here.”

Ivarstead was known for being the closest town to the trail that led to the top of High Hrothgar, the tallest mountain in the world, where a monastery was located. Plenty of foreigners from other ends of the continent knew about the supposed 7,000 steps to reach its top. It was somewhat of a rite of passage.

I approached a random traveler who hailed from Riften and who apparently respected hagravens because his mother had named him Hagravi. Whatever. I asked him about the whereabouts of the most recent courier that had stayed here. Then, confused and a bit enraged, I returned to my team.

Jon: “Listen, my warriors, I have asked around for any information about a courier staying here recently, and one did, but there is a problem.”
Uthgerd: “What kind of problem? Did the courier not have the information we need?”
Alva: “Or perhaps the information was false, meant to lead us astray?”
Jon: “Well, for starters, Thrice-Bitten, that damned lizard, told us that the courier was a man, an overweight man, if I remember correctly, with a beard. The traveler whom I asked about the courier that stayed here recently told me that she was a woman. This is either the courier who is handling Thrice-Bitten’s letter, or a completely random one.”
Jenassa: “So, either Thrice-Bitten’s information was incorrect, or the courier we’ve been tracking is not the one we’re looking for.”
Ria: “This could be a setback, but at least we have a lead, whether it’s the right courier or not.”
Jon: “To complicate things, that female courier had a run–in with a bear, and took shelter or fled to a nearby cave. So, are you, my lovely companions, willing to accompany me right now in this adventure, into a cave that apparently contains a courier that might not be the courier we’re searching for?”
Uthgerd: “Ha! A bear? Sounds like a worthy challenge. I’m in, of course.”
Alva: “Count me in as well. We might as well investigate, especially after coming all this way.”
Jenassa: “A job is a job. I’ll accompany you, regardless of whether it’s the correct courier or not.”
Jon: “What do you think about all these developments, Ria? You have been quite quiet recently.”
Ria: “I’ve been thinking about our purpose here. Hunting down couriers based on potentially faulty information seems… beneath us, doesn’t it?”
Jon: “I did say that jobs that don’t involve disemboweling people are childish.”
Uthgerd: “Hmm, perhaps. But a true warrior never backs down from a challenge, even if it’s not the most glamorous.”
Alva: “Besides, sometimes even the smallest tasks can lead to the greatest adventures. We won’t know unless we see it through.”

You could tell by the sight of that cave’s entrance that nobody should approach it. Bears had marked the surroundings with bones, some likely human. Once we barged in, weapons ready, we had to slaughter a whole family of bears. They were tougher than I would have thought after the horrors we had faced. In the end, we did find that female courier. What remained of her, anyway.

Uthgerd: “Damn, looks like we’re too late.”
Alva: “Poor girl. What a gruesome way to go.”
Jenassa: “It appears so. Such is the risk of traveling alone.”
Ria: “I hope she didn’t suffer too much.”
Jon: “It turns out that we have the right courier, even though she doesn’t match the description in any way other than the fact that she’s a human being. She had in her possession the letter that Thrice-Bitten wrote to Ingun Black-Briar. And… that bastard really went far. Let me read it to you.”
Uthgerd: “Go on then, let’s hear what the letter says.”
Alva: “Yes, do read it out loud.”
Ria: “I’m not sure if we should be reading someone else’s mail, but… I’m interested too.”
Jon: “Well then, I shall proceed to read the letter that this bastard Thrice-Bitten wrote to Ingun Black-Briar. It says, ‘Dear Ingun, I hope you die, I hope someone rips open your belly and shoves a hive of bees in that horker you call a stomach. I hope someone sews your mouth shut and pours hot, fecal lava down your ears. I hope your face gets infected with boils and your children are born ugly. I hope you die, and in the chance you don’t, I’m going to kill you myself.'”
Alva: “Ouch, someone’s quite upset with this Ingun.”
Uthgerd: “Hah! Now that’s a letter.”
Jenassa: “A rather vivid imagination for cruelty, it seems.”
Ria: “That’s… excessive. What could this Ingun have done to deserve such hatred?”

I was pursing my lips and shaking my head. I couldn’t believe I had nearly frozen my dick off, let alone die to a wispmother, for the sake of this shithead.

Jon: “Ria, apparently all this Ingun did to deserve it, and I’m using deserve in quotes, was asking this bastard Thrice-Bitten to find rare ingredients for her. Now I’m thinking… this Thrice-Bitten gave us the wrong description of the courier, as well as the name of the town, and has caused this courier to die if only because she was tasked to head in this direction to deliver his stupid, nasty letter. Maybe we should deliver the letter to Ingun ourselves. Maybe the Black-Briars should be outraged, and send assassins the way of that lizard.”
Jenassa: “A cunning plan, Jon. Misdirection leads to a courier’s demise, and now we hold the key to Thrice-Bitten’s undoing.”
Uthgerd: “I like the way you think, Jon. Let’s give this Ingun a reason to go after Thrice-Bitten.”
Alva: “We could hand over the letter, but do we really want to meddle in their affairs and risk making enemies?”
Ria: “I’m not comfortable sending assassins after anyone, even someone like Thrice-Bitten… But what if Ingun decides to take matters into her own hands?”

I didn’t want to upset Ria, but I wanted Thrice-Bitten dead.

Jon: “Well, there are five members in this team. Let’s put it to a vote, alright?”
Uthgerd: “Aye, let’s vote. I say we give Ingun the letter and let her deal with Thrice-Bitten.”
Alva: “If we’re voting, I’ll abstain. I see the merits of both sides, but I trust your judgment.”
Ria: “I vote against sending assassins or encouraging Ingun to do so. Let’s stay out of this, please.”
Jon: “Jenassa, you haven’t contributed with your vote. I know you are getting paid to belong to our wonderful band, but still, please vote.”
Jenassa: “My apologies. If we’re settling this with a vote, I say we hand the letter over to Ingun. Alright, the vote has concluded, and the majority voted for delivering the letter to Ingun Black-Briar with hopes that maybe she’ll send some assassins to kill Thrice-Bitten. Ria, I understand your woes about committing to a violent path, but even you must admit that this invention of ours might lead to Thrice receiving the comeuppance that he actually deserves. Any other comments before we set off to find Ingun Black-Briar and deliver her the letter?”
Jon: “You’ve said it all. What I have gotten out of this whole situation is that Thrice-Bitten deserves the consequences of his actions.”
Uthgerd: “I couldn’t agree more, Jon. Actions have consequences, and Thrice-Bitten must face his.”
Ria: “I… still don’t feel right about this, but I won’t stand in the way of the group’s decision. Let’s just get this over with.”
Alva: “Well, it’s settled then. We deliver the letter to Ingun and let fate run its course. Let’s just hope this doesn’t come back to bite us in the end.”
Jon: “Well, then it seems we have to head to Riften.”
Uthgerd: “That’s quite a journey. We better get moving then.”
Alva: “Riften… a den of thieves and criminals.”
Jenassa: “I’ve had some experience with the Thieves Guild in Riften. It’s best to be cautious.”

When we returned to Ivarstead’s inn, I felt like dropping to the floor and not moving for hours. What a nasty pair of days. Instead, I approached the innkeeper.

Jon: “By the Eight Divines, please give us, me and my team of adventurers here, named Frostpeak Stalkers, some food, dinner maybe, and also beds in which to sleep. These have been some grueling few hours.”
Wilhelm: “Can’t say I’ve got much in the way of food for a whole team, but I can spare some bread and cheese.”
Jon: “What? No, I’m intending to pay for the food and rooms.”
Wilhelm: “Well then, that’s different! Welcome to the Vilemyr Inn, it’ll be 10 septims per night for each room. What’ll you and your team be having for dinner?”

The local bard approached me. She was a black-haired beaut who dressed too fancy for this place.

Lynly Star-Sung: “And if you fancy a bit of music with your meal, just let me know.”
Jon: “I think we could do with salmon steaks and braided bread, please.”
Wilhelm: “Salmon steaks and braided bread, coming right up! That’ll be 15 septims each.”
Lynly Star-Sung: “Would you care to hear me play my lute while you wait for your meals, milord? It’s only five gold.”
Jon: “You are a sight for sore eyes, with that black hair and fair face. By all means, also grace my ears with a beautiful song.”
Lynly Star-Sung: “Why thank you, milord. That’s so sweet of you to say. I’ll tell you what… I’ll play a special song, just for you, for no charge at all.”
Wilhelm: “Don’t let her pretty face fool you. Lynly’s got quite the talent with that lute of hers.”

After dinner, I hoped to transmit to Uthgerd the shock that today’s events had caused me.

Jon: “Uthgerd, you will hate hearing this, but I keep replaying in my mind what happened yesterday, you know, when we exited the ancient ruin and we were ambushed by that wispmother. Before I knew it, the wispmother had hit you with her icicles, and you were lying unconscious on the ground. During that five-minute-long fight, I was sure that I was going to die, that you were going to die, that my whole team was going to die, and I was fucking terrified.”
Uthgerd: “It’s not easy facing death like that, especially when it comes for those close to you. But we’re warriors, we signed up for this. You can’t let the fear of loss consume you. We fought, we survived, and we’ll keep doing so.”
Jon: “And if you happened to have died, would that have been it, then?”
Uthgerd: “Then that’s it. You move on. Don’t you dare mourn me, Jon. Don’t let sentiment cloud your judgment. You and the others keep fighting, keep living. That’s the code we live by.”
Jon: “Uthgerd, one day you’re going to die. Wouldn’t you want someone to think of you and feel pain for the fact that you are no longer there?”
Uthgerd: “Feeling pain for the fallen is natural. But letting it consume you? No. You can’t afford that luxury. We all took the same oaths to fight till our last. You honor that by moving forward, not by wallowing in what could have been.”
Jon: “Uthgerd, since the day I met you, I’ve know that you are strong, but I hadn’t measured or understood properly the extent of how strong you are.”
Uthgerd: “It’s about time you realized it. Don’t go thinking it’s just physical strength. A true warrior’s strength comes from here. Hardened resolve, determination, the will to press on even when the odds are stacked against you. That’s what counts when swords clash and the blood starts flowing. That’s the kind of strength you’ve got too.”
Jon: “Not remotely as much as you do. So I hope to continue learning from you to become stronger.”
Uthgerd: “Damn right you will. You stick with me, and I’ll make sure you’ve got the stomach for this life. It’s not a path for the faint of heart, but something tells me you’ve got what it takes.”

The inn was crowded at this hour; it looked like it contained the whole town. I was searching for Ria when I spotted a curious character sitting on one of the chairs near the hearth: a Khajiit man with a long beard and monk-like robes. I had to talk to him.

Jon: “You look quite peculiar. What is your story, sir?”
Dar’Rakki: “Dar’Rakki came to Skyrim with a friend, Adanja, who promised to help this one find a job with one of the Khajiit caravans. But, bandits near the border attacked us. Adanja was killed. Now, Dar’Rakki finds it hard to trust people.”
Jon: “Well, I know I’m a complete stranger, but what are you planning on doing now?”
Dar’Rakki: “This one is not sure. The truth of what’s real and what’s lies is all mixed up in this land. Take this mountain, for example. They say there are 7,000 steps to the top, but how can we really know without counting them ourselves? It’s so hard to trust.”

Jon: “Yeah, I wonder. What if you set off to climb the 7,000 steps, and turns out it’s only 3,328?”
Dar’Rakki: “The thought of such a blatant lie being propagated… it would be too much for Dar’Rakki to bear. This one would likely end his own life right then and there, unable to live in a world filled with such deceit.”
Jon: “You just said that you would commit suicide if the number of steps on the path to the mountaintop is incorrect.”
Dar’Rakki: “Yes, that is correct. The thought of living in a world where such a fundamental truth is a lie is too much for this one to bear. But, until the day when Dar’Rakki climbs those steps and counts them himself, there is still hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, there are exactly 7,000 steps.”
Jon: “Well, for your sake, cat-man, I hope that there really are 7,000 steps. Not one more, not one less.”
Dar’Rakki: “This one appreciates the sentiment, friend. Perhaps, if this place is more honest than Dar’Rakki fears, the Nordway may yet be a place to call home. But, only time will tell.”
Jon: “Goodbye, sir.”
Dar’Rakki: “Until we meet again. May your path be true and your mind clear. And should you ever find yourself in need of a curious traveler, look for Dar’Rakki. This one is always searching for truth in this world of lies.”

Before heading to bed, I wanted to ensure that Ria wasn’t bummed about the Thrice-Bitten situation.

Jon: “Hey Ria, may I have a word with you in private?”
Ria: “What’s on your mind, Jon?”
Jon: “I suspect you are disappointed. We decided to deliver Thrice-Bitten’s letter to Ingun Black-Briar even though you didn’t want to possibly get that lizard killed, despite the fact that he deserves it.”
Ria: “It’s not that I’m disappointed, it’s just… it feels wrong to potentially cause someone’s death, even if they might deserve it. But I trust you and the others. We made the decision together, and I’ll stand by it.”
Jon: “Well, Ria, I hope you never hesitate to share your opinion with the rest of the group. I appreciate your noble heart, I appreciate your bravery, and you are an integral part of our group.”
Ria: “Thanks, Jon. It means a lot to hear you say that. I’ll always be honest with you and the group. And no matter what, I’ve got your back.”