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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, offered sexual favors to a powerful mob boss, insulted a beggar girl, threatened to murder a local in the middle of a bustling inn, and lured in a stabby woman with the promise of gold and blood.

Maven Black-Briar, the de facto ruler of Riften, sent an associate to meet us at the Bee and Barb, Riften’s main inn. Only Uthgerd, Alva, Bassianus and I were present at the time. The associate’s name was Brynjolf, a suave man with an easy smile.

Brynjolf: “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’ve heard a bit about your group’s exploits.”
Jon: “Good rumors, I hope.”
Brynjolf: “Well, I’ve heard you lot have been making a name for yourselves, taking on all sorts of dangerous jobs and coming out on top. And working with the Black-Briars? That’s no small feat.”
Jon: “So, what sort of job does Maven have in mind for us to prove ourselves?”
Brynjolf: “One that requires a certain set of skills, and she seems to think you lot fit the bill.”
Uthgerd: “Is that so? Well, we’re listening. What’s the job?”
Bassianus: “Yeah, we’re ready for anything. Just give us the details.”
Brynjolf: “This one’s a bit of a sensitive matter. A certain individual has been causing some trouble for Maven’s business interests. Let’s just say he’s been sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, and it’s starting to become a problem. Maven wants you to take care of it. Quietly.”
Uthgerd: “Quietly, huh? So, what, we’re talking about a shiv in the dark, then?”
Bassianus: “Or maybe just a nice, stern talking-to. Depends on what kind of trouble this guy is causing, right?”
Jon: “Yes, Brynjolf, what conclusion to this individual was Maven looking for? The bleeding-out variety?”
Brynjolf: “Not necessarily. Maven’s not one to condone unnecessary violence. She just wants the problem dealt with, one way or another. If you can find a way to make this individual see the error of his ways and back off, that’s just as good. But if he proves to be particularly stubborn, well, let’s just say you have a license to be more persuasive.”
Alva: “In other words, we have some leeway to be creative with our methods. As long as the problem is solved, Maven will be satisfied, yes?”
Brynjolf: “Precisely. As long as this individual ceases to be a thorn in Maven’s side, she’ll consider the job a success.”
Jon: “Very well, we understand the conditions, who is the target then? Name, location, possible weaknesses?”
Brynjolf: “The man you’re looking for is named Mallus Maccius, a lowlife who’s been running a smuggling operation into Riften, undercutting Maven’s own business ventures. He’s employed at the Honningbrew Meadery, close to Whiterun. As for weaknesses, well, let’s just say Mallus fancies himself quite the ladies’ man. He’s been known to frequent the inns and taverns, looking for his next conquest. Might be something you could use to your advantage.”
Jon: “Most of my gorgeous associates, like the pale beauty Alva here, or the broad, sturdy Uthgerd the Unbroken, could work as bait for this Mallus character.”
Brynjolf: “That’s not a bad idea. Mallus has a reputation for going after all sorts of women, so either one might be able to catch his eye. The key is to make him believe he’s in control, that he’s got the upper hand. Once you’ve got him hooked, it’ll be easier to reel him in.”
Bassianus: “We could set up a meeting, make it seem like a casual encounter. When he’s got his guard down, that’s when we move in.”
Uthgerd: “Hmph. I don’t like the idea of using myself or Alva as bait, but if it’s necessary, I’m willing to do what it takes.”
Jon: “Alva, my night queen, is the most proficient at seduction of anybody I’ve come across, so I’d say she will make perfect bait for that man.”
Alva: “Why thank you, Jon, that’s very kind of you to say. I do have my ways with words, don’t I?”
Brynjolf: “Well, there you have it. Sounds like Alva has the right skills for the job. With her on the inside and the rest of you as backup, this Mallus Maccius won’t stand a chance.”
Bassianus: “Alva, when the time comes, just give us the signal, and we’ll be there to make sure this Mallus character gets what’s coming to him.”
Jon: “Brynjolf, we need more details about how Mallus is annoying our shared patron. Hard to intimidate someone about his deeds when we barely know anything about them.”
Brynjolf: “Fair point, let me give you the details. Mallus Maccius has been smuggling weapons and skooma into Riften, cutting into Maven Black-Briar’s profits and undermining her control over the city.”
Alva: “Skooma and weapons, hmm? Those are two things that Maven definitely wouldn’t want falling into the wrong hands, at least not without her say-so.”
Jon: “I think we understand all the moving parts of this operation. Does anybody have any questions?”
Brynjolf: “I’ve given you all the key information. The rest is up to you. Remember, discretion is paramount.”
Uthgerd: “We get it, no loose ends. We’ll make sure Mallus understands that he’s got no choice but to back off, one way or another. If there’s nothing else, I’d say it’s time to put this plan into action. The sooner we deal with this scum, the better.”

I wished to know how my two main gals felt about this development.

Jon: “It seems we’re returning to Whiterun this soon. Quite the odd way to come back home, isn’t it, Uthgerd?”
Uthgerd: “Strange indeed, Jon. I never thought I’d be going back to Whiterun for this kind of work.”
Alva: “Well, at least it’s familiar territory for you, Uthgerd. You’ll have the upper hand there.”
Jon: “We better get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow we’ll figure out how to travel there, and how many of us will go.”
Uthgerd: “Agreed, Jon. We need to be well-rested for this.”
Alva: “I’m looking forward to seeing Whiterun again.”

Upstairs, I knocked on the door to Jenassa’s rented room.

Jon: “Hey Jenny, we are heading back to Whiterun for an operation. We already met with Maven’s associate. Turns out we need to intimidate a smuggler who works at the Honningbrew Meadery. We’ll convince him one way or another to stop his side gig.”
Jenassa: “Sounds like it could lead to trouble. I’m in, of course. Just point me in the right direction, and I’ll take care of any obstacles that stand in our way.”
Jon: “Apparently this man, our target, is one lustful fella, like someone else you know quite well. We’ll use our lovely Alva as bait to get him in the proper mood for our part.”
Jenassa: “Alva should be able to handle that well enough. Just make sure she doesn’t get too carried away with the act. We want him off balance, not dead… at least, not until we get what we want out of him.”
Jon: “Yeah, we shouldn’t kill him unless absolutely necessary. That would create undue trouble. And I know that you dislike getting into trouble unless warranted.”
Jenassa: “You’re right, I don’t. But if he tries anything funny with Alva, I won’t hesitate to put him in his place. Undue trouble or not.”
Jon: “You know, I’m a bit surprised, but glad, that you’d go out of your way to help Alva. That isn’t something a regular mercenary would do, right?”
Jenassa: “Don’t read too much into it. We’re a team, and we watch out for each other. That’s all there is to it.”

Next morning, we decided that we’d get to Whiterun via wagon, but it’d need to happen at night lest Alva scorch her precious skin, so I took a stroll around town to pass the time. Near Mistveil Keep, the jarl’s seat of power, I spotted a delightful sight: an orphanage. Such an establishment would help in my goal of furnishing my future home with children.

The kids I came across looked wary, even scared, although a couple of them glanced at me with hope. The two sole adults in charge of the orphanage were a kind-faced young woman and a mean-looking hag.

Jon: “Well met, women! I was in the neighborhood and noticed this orphanage. My name is Jon, and I have my own band of adventurers called Frostpeak Stalkers. I shall buy a house soon with the money we’re making, so I’m in the market for a child.”
Grelod the Kind: “A child? You think you can just waltz in here and buy a child like they’re a loaf of bread? This isn’t a marketplace, you fool.”

Constance Michel: “Now, now, Grelod, we don’t get many visitors interested in the children. At least let’s hear him out.”
Grelod the Kind: “Don’t now, now me, Constance. I’m not running a damned charity here. These brats are more trouble than they’re worth.”
Constance Michel: “Please, ignore her. I’m Constance, and I help run this orphanage. You said your name was Jon, right?”
Jon: “That’s right, yes, and if you say that these brats are more trouble than they’re worth, then surely I can take some off your hands. By the way, Constance, your figure is perfect for bearing children. Thank you for defending me against your employer.”
Constance Michel: “I appreciate the compliment, Jon, but we’re here to talk about the children. I understand Grelod’s hesitations, but I do think they deserve a chance at a good home. I’ve been trying to convince her to allow adoptions.”
Grelod the Kind: “And you see how far it’s gotten us, don’t you? Jon, was it? She’s the softhearted one. If you want a straight answer, you’ll deal with me. And I’m not just giving these little runts away.”
Constance Michel: “Grelod, please. Let’s not be hasty. Jon seems to have good intentions. Why don’t we give him a chance?”
Jon: “Yes, I am trustworthy individual. My purpose here is to get myself a child or two to brighten the mood of my future home. Watching them running around, as well as hearing their laughter, will probably improve the mood and serve as good decoration.”
Grelod the Kind: “You make them sound like furniture. You think a child is just some decoration for your fantasy of a happy home? They’re not dolls.”
Constance Michel: “Grelod is right, Jon. Children are not decorations. They’re people with needs and feelings. Are you prepared to provide for those needs?”
Grelod the Kind: “He doesn’t look like he can provide for a rock, let alone a child. What are you, some kind of sellsword? You think that’s a stable life for a child?”
Jon: “I guess I must defend my chosen career. I am an adventurer. I do not sell my services. I delve into ancient barrows, archeological wonders. I kill monsters and collect lots of loot. I’m currently in possession of 5,500 septims, enough money to buy a house in certain holds of Skyrim. So I’m no bum.”
Constance Michel: “Jon, your wealth is not the issue here. What Grelod and I are concerned about is whether you’re able to provide a stable, loving environment. If your main interest in a child is for them to be a decoration, that’s not a sufficient reason.”
Grelod the Kind: “And traipsing around old ruins and fighting monsters isn’t exactly a family-friendly occupation. What are you going to do, bring a child along while you’re out tomb raiding?”
Constance Michel: “Grelod, Jon, let’s not argue. We’re getting nowhere here. I think what we need is a calm discussion about what’s best for the children. Jon, perhaps you could tell us more about your background and your life. We want to make sure that any child we place with you will be well cared for.”
Jon: “I am an Altmer, a High Elf from overseas. I came to Skyrim to learn and research magic, but due to the the vicissitudes of fate, I ended up founding a band of adventurers that is currently composed of seven members, some of them very powerful warriors capable of protecting me as well as any children we may buy.”
Grelod the Kind: “So you’re some high and mighty elf who thinks he can swoop in here and take one of these brats off our hands so they can be your little magic apprentice or something? I’ve heard enough. Constance, tell him to get out.”
Constance Michel: “Grelod, please, let’s remain civil. Jon, what Grelod is trying to say is that a life filled with danger and instability is not ideal for a child. You may have protections in place, but children need stability, safety, and above all, love.”
Grelod the Kind: “And discipline, don’t forget that. But this one doesn’t look like he knows the meaning of the word.”
Jon: “First of all, I shall clarify that I wouldn’t bring children along on our adventures. When some of us set off in search of thrills and loot, the children would stay at home with at least one of my female companions, who would shower them with love. If that doesn’t sound good enough, maybe you yourself, Constance, should leave this drab life of yours in an orphanage and come live with me. Become the mother of the children I will adopt, or become a mother the old-fashioned way. I’m sure you’d shower our children with love, and perhaps me as well, for giving you a better life.”
Constance Michel: “You’re suggesting I leave my post here to come live with you and… care for the children you adopt? While I’m flattered by the offer, I must decline. My duty is to all the children here, not just one or two.”
Grelod the Kind: “Hah! As if she’d go with you anyway. What sort of person asks someone they just met to come live with them? You’re not right in the head.”
Constance Michel: “Grelod, that’s uncalled for. Jon, I appreciate your interest in the children. It’s clear you have resources and a unique living situation.”
Jon: “Old broad, I’m growing tired of you. I can see in your eyes that you’re incapable of loving anybody. You’re full of disdain. I heard you refer to these children as ‘guttersnipes.’ How dare you? You’re the one who has no clue how to take care of children.”
Grelod the Kind: “You think I don’t know how to take care of children? I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive, boy. These brats need a firm hand, not coddling.”
Constance Michel: “Grelod, please. Jon, I understand your concerns, but Grelod has her own methods. It may not be what you or I would choose, but… It’s complicated.”
Grelod the Kind: “Complicated? Hah! There’s nothing complicated about it. You’re either tough on them or they walk all over you.”
Jon: “Is that the way to raise children? The little I’ve seen of their faces, most of them seem terrified.”
Grelod the Kind: “They should be! Fear is the only thing that keeps them in line. You clearly don’t know what it takes to raise a child.”
Constance Michel: “Jon, I understand your concerns, truly. But you have to understand, we have many children here and limited resources. It’s not an ideal situation for anyone, but we do our best.”
Grelod the Kind: “Her ‘best’ involves being soft. My ‘best’ involves making sure they survive in this world. You wouldn’t understand.”
Jon: “If you grow up to become a bitter, angry and resentful creature burdened by trauma, is it worth surviving in this world?”
Grelod the Kind: “Aye, it’s worth it. Better angry and resentful than dead, or worse.”
Constance Michel: “Grelod, please. Jon, it’s a difficult situation. To keep these children alive and give them a chance at life.”
Grelod the Kind: “A chance at life they wouldn’t have if I wasn’t hard on them. The world isn’t kind to the weak.”
Jon: “That’s right, but my companions and I have made ourselves strong. I’m a powerful mage, and most of my companions are trained warriors. Perhaps what these kids need is some martial training, to learn how to defend themselves and do some damage.”
Constance Michel: “Training in magic and combat can certainly be valuable skills, Jon, but there’s more to raising a child than just making them strong.”
Grelod the Kind: “Aye, like keeping them from getting killed. How many of your companions have died in your little adventures? Probably more than a few.”
Constance Michel: “Grelod, that’s not fair. Jon, I understand your perspective, but we have to consider the whole child, their emotional needs, their safety, their development.”
Grelod the Kind: “And if all they learn is magic and how to swing a sword, they won’t develop much at all.”
Jon: “Well, let me tell you, Grelod: I lost one person. Her name was Ange the Song-Bearer, a traveling bard. She sang with the grace of a songbird. Even though she was aware of the world’s dangers, she always had a smile on her face, as well as compassionate words to say to most people. But she wasn’t a carefree individual: she had strong morals. She wasn’t resentful nor mean, and most of the people she met were happier for having known her.”
Grelod the Kind: “And look where it got her. Dead. Just like everyone else in this forsaken world. Having a kind heart doesn’t mean you’ll survive.”
Constance Michel: “Grelod, that’s not necessarily true. Ange sounds like she was a wonderful person. Jon, losing someone like that is hard. But it also shows that there’s more to life than just survival. Companionship, kindness, joy… these things matter too.”
Jon: “My point is, Ange lived a happy life, a brave life, one full of adventures and songs, and in a way, she died happy. As for you, Grelod, I can tell you’ve always been miserable. It’s etched in your face. You’re going to die miserable. And afterwards, when people remember you, they’ll wish they had never met you.”
Grelod the Kind: “People remember me? Hah! That’s a laugh. No one will remember me, boy. And if they do, it’ll be with respect.”
Constance Michel: “Jon, I understand your point about Ange, and it’s a good one. A life filled with joy and companionship is a life well-lived.”
Grelod the Kind: “Respect and fear are the only things that matter in this world, boy. You’ll learn that soon enough.”
Jon: “Clearly I can’t get anywhere with you, Grelod. As for you, Constance: your beauty and shapely ass are wasted in this place. My offer still stands. One day I shall return to this orphanage and repeat my offer. Then, you may say no, or you may say yes. And if you agree to come live with me in my opulent mansion, you’ll get to sleep in my warm, boundless bed, and enjoy a happy life surrounded by children.”
Grelod the Kind: “Constance isn’t going anywhere with you, you lecherous fool. She’s staying right here where she belongs. Constance, tell him!”
Constance Michel: “Jon… I appreciate your interest in my wellbeing, but my place is here, with the children. Grelod is right, in her own way. I’m needed here.”
Grelod the Kind: “Hah! As if there was any doubt.”
Jon: “That’s a sad thing to hear, Constance. With your gorgeous, motherly figure, you could easily bear eight, ten children. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to live in a big mansion, surrounded by your large family, supported by a charming Altmer man named Jon?”
Grelod the Kind: “What sort of life is that? Pumping out child after child like some broodmare?”
Constance Michel: “Grelod! That’s not… Jon, I’m flattered you think so highly of me, but my life is here. I have a duty to these children. They need me.”
Grelod the Kind: “And you need to stay in your place. Which is here, not off with some elf who thinks with his… Well, I don’t need to say it. We all know what he’s thinking with.”
Jon: “Yes, Grelod, and it’s big enough to clobber you across the face.”
Grelod the Kind: “Ha! As if I’d let you anywhere near me. I’ve had quite enough of this. Constance, deal with him. I’m done.”
Constance Michel: “Grelod, wait! Jon, I… I don’t know what to say. This has been a confusing conversation, to say the least. I appreciate your interest in the children, but I have to put their needs first. And right now, their needs are for me to be here.”

Yet another woman I had hoped to turn into the mother of my children, another woman from whom I found myself walking away. But as I turned a corner, I ran into four timid, fearful kids, who were about to scatter when I approached them for a secretive meeting.

Jon: “Hey, quick, now that the hag isn’t looking this way. Are you kids happy in this gods-forsaken orphanage?”
Samuel: “Well, it’s not exactly a fun place to live, but at least we have each other.”
Francois Beaufort: “I miss my parents. I hope they come back for me someday.”
Hroar: “I want to be adopted and have a real family. But Grelod won’t let us.”
Runa Fair-Shield: “It’s miserable here. Grelod is so mean and cruel to us. I wish we could leave this place.”

Jon: “What is the worst thing about living here?”
Runa Fair-Shield: “The worst part is definitely Grelod. She’s always yelling at us, calling us names, and sometimes even hitting us for no reason.”
Hroar: “Yeah, Grelod is the absolute worst! I’d rather fight a dragon than deal with her meanness.”
Samuel: “It’s not just the abuse. We barely get enough to eat. Just one measly meal a day. I’m always hungry.”
Francois Beaufort: “The constant fear and sadness is really hard to live with day after day. It wears you down.”

I hadn’t felt heroic in a good while, but against such injustice, I was happy to don the armor of righteousness again.

Jon: “Let me tell you something, children: my name is Jon, and I am a powerful High Elf mage from overseas. I’m also the leader of a renowned band of adventurers called Frostpeak Stalkers. We make our living by raiding ancient barrows and claiming their treasure. We have killed many, many monsters out there, including those of the human variety.”
Hroar: “Wow, you sound like a real hero! I wish I could go on adventures like that someday.”
Runa Fair-Shield: “Do you think… maybe… you might be able to help us get out of this awful place? Pretty please?”
Samuel: “Life with you would be much, much better than this miserable orphanage. Anything would be.”
Francois Beaufort: “Jon, monsieur, are you offering to adopt one of us, by chance? If so, I hope you pick me to join your adventurous life!”
Jon: “Well, I came here with such an intention, yes. In the near future, I shall buy a mansion and live in luxury. I considered that getting a child would be a nice thing to add to a home. It would improve the mood, and look good as well. So, one day I intend to return here and snatch one of you.”
Samuel: “Really? You’d actually do that for one of us? That would be a dream come true!”
Francois Beaufort: “Oh, I do hope you’ll consider adopting me, monsieur. I’d be ever so grateful to live in a real home again.”
Hroar: “I’ve always wanted a dad who goes on adventures. Pick me, pick me!”
Runa Fair-Shield: “Please, Jon, come back for one of us. We’ll be the best child you could ask for, I promise. Anything is better than staying here with awful Grelod.”
Jon: “First of all, for when we are apart, I must teach you a trick of the strong: this Grelod bitch, this ugly hag close to death, she’s only able to beat you because she’s dealing with just one of you at the time. But together, you are strong. Do you understand?”
Samuel: “You mean… team up against Grelod? I never thought of that. We’ve always been too scared to fight back.”
Hroar: “Are you saying we should all attack her at once? I like the sound of that! She deserves some payback.”
Francois Beaufort: “I’m not sure… Grelod is awfully big and strong. She might overpower us even if we work together.”
Runa Fair-Shield: “But if we succeeded, we’d finally be free of her cruelty! Maybe it’s worth a try…”
Jon: “Listen, even if she were stronger than all of you, which I doubt, the goal consists in striking her weak points: her eyes, her neck, the back of her head. You can cripple her by destroying her kneecaps. When she gets close, pretend to be subdued, and when she least expects it, drive your thumbs into her eyeballs. That will give you a good chance to finish her off.”
Samuel: “Wow, I never thought of fighting dirty like that before. But against Grelod, I think it’s justified.”
Hroar: “Poke her eyes out? I can do that! Take that, you mean old hag!”
Francois Beaufort: “I don’t know if I have the stomach for eye-gouging… But maybe I could trip her or something.”
Runa Fair-Shield: “You’re right, Jon. We have to be strategic about this. Aim for her weak points and don’t hold back. This is our chance to be free!”
Jon: “Otherwise, when she’s preparing you some awful meal in front of the fire, just shove her in face-first.”
Samuel: “Into the fire? That’s brilliant! She’ll be so busy putting out her flaming hair, she won’t be able to stop us!”
Hroar: “Hee hee, I’d love to see Grelod’s mean face all burnt up! Serves her right.”
Francois Beaufort: “Oh dear, burning someone seems rather extreme… But I suppose desperate times call for desperate measures.”
Runa Fair-Shield: “I like the way you think, Jon. Hit her hard and fast when she least expects it. We can do this!”
Jon: “Keep this in mind, children: only the strong can be good-natured, merciful, or humble. The weak cannot choose.”
Samuel: “You’re right, Jon. We’ve been acting weak because that’s how Grelod treats us. But together, we can be strong!”
Hroar: “Yeah, no more being pushovers! From now on, we stand up for ourselves!”
Francois Beaufort: “I never thought of it that way before. You’re saying we have to be strong to have the luxury of being kind?”
Runa Fair-Shield: “Thank you, Jon. You’ve given us courage and hope. We won’t forget this. Next time Grelod tries to hurt us, she’ll regret it!”
Jon: “For now, I shall return to my thrilling life as an adventurer, but I wish for you children to retain in your young minds beautiful dreams of homicide.”
Samuel: “We’ll remember your words, Jon. Dreaming of a better life will keep us going until we can make it a reality.”
Hroar: “I’m gonna dream of all the ways we can smash Grelod! Pow, pow!”
Francois Beaufort: “I may not be able to hurt Grelod myself, but I can certainly dream of her getting her just desserts.”
Runa Fair-Shield: “Every night, I’ll imagine a life without Grelod’s cruelty. Someday, it won’t just be a dream anymore. Thank you, Jon.”
Jon: “You bring a tear to my eyes, beautiful children. I hope you succeed and prosper.”
Samuel: “Thank you, Jon. You’ve given us hope when we had none. We’ll make you proud, just you wait and see.”
Francois Beaufort: “Perhaps the gods led you here today, monsieur. You may have changed the course of our destinies.”
Hroar: “Yeah, thanks Jon! Come back and visit us when we’re free and living the good life!”
Runa Fair-Shield: “We won’t let you down, Jon. Someday, we’ll be strong and free, just like you said. We’ll never forget your kindness.”

I had done a good deed today. I was sauntering back to the Bee and Barb when I noticed a dirty child sitting on a half-wall along the river: the beggar girl who had stolen a precious septim of mine. When she noticed me, she nearly bolted, but it was too late for her. She frowned up at me as she narrowed her shoulders.

Jon: “Well, well, if it isn’t the dirty beggar girl, gracing the market with her presence. Let me tell you: I haven’t forgotten about the septim you swiped from me.”
Olette: “Look, Cap’n, I don’t have your damn septim anymore. Maybe if you kept a better eye on your purse instead of chattin’ up every skirt in Riften, you wouldn’t have this problem.”
Jon: “Kid, I know I’ve said plenty of shit to you. I’m quite angry still, because I can’t abide by you wasting your life as a nasty little shit. You won’t have a future if you keep living like this.”
Olette: “How touching. But I don’t need your pity, Cap’n. I do just fine on my own, without anyone telling me how to live my life. So why don’t you take your righteous indignation and shove it up your arse?”

I stuck my finger up one of her nostrils.

Jon: “Bad idea to suggest to others that things should be shoved up their orifices. They may reciprocate.”
Olette: “Get your finger out of my nose, you bastard! Try that again, and I’ll bite it off! You think you’re so high and mighty, but you’re no better than me. You’re just a thief with a fancy name, stealing from the dead.”
Jon: “Yes, we already went through that. Compared to you, I’m the thief emperor. A single run of thieving grants me thousands of septims. What about you, huh? How much do you earn a day at the most? Three, four septims if you’re extra shitty?”
Olette: “La-di-da, look at you, the big shot thief! You may have your thousands, but I have my freedom. I don’t answer to anyone, and I sure as hell don’t need some jumped-up adventurer telling me what to do.”
Jon: “You know, kid, I see that dagger dangling at your hip. I can tell by your gaze that you’ve used it before. Why not just join a band of adventurers and make some coin the honest way, looting corpses and desecrating graves?”
Olette: “You want me to join your little band of do-gooders? Ha! You must be joking. I’m not about to go traipsing around Skyrim. And as for stealing things worth stealing, I’ll stick to what I know, thanks very much.”
Jon: “Alright, your choice. Keep being a nasty little brat. As a parting gift, here’s a smell you’re used to.”

I turned around and ripped a loud fart in her face.

Olette: “Augh, you disgusting pig! That’s it, I’m out of here. You and your lot can keep your adventurer’s life. I’ll take my chances on the streets, where the air is fresher and the company less flatulent.”

As she scrambled away from my presence, I flicked a couple of septims at her.

Jon: “There you go. Buy yourself a noseplug, will you?”
Olette: “I don’t want your damn septims, Cap’n! I make my own way, and I don’t need handouts from the likes of you. Keep your money and your noseplugs, and leave me be.”
Jon: “You know, those words would have carried more weight if you hadn’t pocketed the septims immediately.”
Olette: “It’s not my fault you’re an easy mark, Cap’n. I’m just doing what I do best.”
Jon: “Alright then. See you around, little turd.”
Olette: “Not if I see you first, Cap’n.”

In the evening, back at the inn, I decided who would join our shady operation in Whiterun. As much as I loved Ria, she was too principled for this mission. Regarding the happy couple we rescued from Ivarstead, I wanted to give them a choice.

Jon: “Bassianus, Fastred, I need to have a strategy meeting with just the two of you lovebirds.”
Fastred: “Oh, a strategy meeting? Just for us? What’s this about, Jon?”
Bassianus : “I’m curious too. What’s on your mind?”
Jon: “As you know, our target is located in the Whiterun hold, which means that we’ll need to travel there. And our task consists on intimidating and possibly harming someone in charge of a smuggling operation, which could result in a dangerous situation.”
Fastred: “We’re just scaring him, right? Not actually hurting him?”
Jon: “Listen, Fastred, let me be honest: I don’t think you’re ready for a mission about intimidating a man and possibly having to beat him up real good. I want you to sit this one out, remain here at the Bee and Barb, until we can go out adventuring properly.”
Fastred: “Jon, I can handle myself. I’m not some delicate flower that needs constant protection. If we’re going to be part of this group, Bassianus and I, we need to pull our weight, just like everyone else. Isn’t that right, Bassianus?”
Bassianus: “Fastred’s got a point, Jon. We didn’t join your crew to sit on the sidelines. Fastred might be young, but she’s tougher than she looks. And I’m not about to let her go into danger alone. Where she goes, I go. That’s the deal.”
Jon: “Yes, Bassianus, but the deal that I’m proposing is for your girlfriend to remain here in Riften, in relative safety, and for you to come with the rest of the crew on this operation.”
Fastred: “I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself. I want to come along, even if it might be dangerous.”
Bassianus: “Jon, Fastred and I are a package deal. You can’t just expect me to leave her behind while I go off on missions. We’re a team, her and I. And frankly, I think you might be underestimating her. Just give her a chance to prove herself.”

Jon: “Very well, Bassianus. I was testing your masculine instinct of protection. Perhaps at the last moment, right before a mission that might turn out dangerous, you would have wanted to protect Fastred at all costs, even if that meant shackling her to a bed here at the Barb so she wouldn’t expose herself to danger. This is your choice as a man then, as Fastred’s boyfriend.”
Bassianus: “Testing me? My protective instincts aren’t a joke.”
Fastred: “Jon, I’m not some damsel in distress that needs to be kept locked away. I’m an adventurer. But… if Bassianus thinks it’s too dangerous…”
Jon: “Well, do you, Bassianus? Do you think that this mission of ours that’ll have us traveling to Whiterun is too dangerous for Fastred to accompany us?”
Bassianus: “Honestly, Jon, I think Fastred can handle it. She’s tougher than she looks, and I’ll be right there beside her. If things get too hairy, I’ll make sure she gets out safe. You have my word on that.”
Fastred: “See, Jon? Bassianus believes in me. And I believe in him. We’ll watch out for each other. Together, we can handle whatever this mission throws at us.”

I put my hands on their shoulders.

Jon: “Very well, Fastred, Bassianus. The two of you will come with the rest of the crew. Tonight we’re hiring a wagon that’ll drive us straight to Whiterun.”
Fastred: “A wagon ride to Whiterun? This is so exciting! I’ve never been on such a long journey before.”
Bassianus: “Just stay close to me, Fastred. Whiterun’s supposed to be a big city, bigger than Riften. It’ll be easy to get lost if you’re not careful.”
Fastred: “I’ll stick by your side, Bassianus. I promise. Oh, I can’t wait to see what adventures await us in Whiterun!”

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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, was disappointed by the new town to which they had traveled, was disappointed because two of his favorite ladies didn’t want a threesome, and was disappointed because the destinatary of Thrice-Bitten’s nasty letter had a stoic reaction to it.

In Mistveil Keep’s grand, regal throne room, we asked around discreetly for Maven Black-Briar, Riften’s de facto ruler. We got looks that said, “Why are you looking for her if she doesn’t know you already? Are you nuts?” Maven turned out to be a woman in maybe her fifties, whose hooked nose and ruthless eyes wouldn’t allow her to disguise her nature. As soon as we caught her gaze, I wasted no time in approaching her.

Jon: “Let me introduce myself: my name is Jon, a powerful Altmer mage who is also the leader of the renowned band of adventurers called Frostpeak Stalkers. We made a legend out of ourselves in the Whiterun hold as well as in Falkreath. We have cleared out a couple of multileveled ancient Nordic barrows, including Bleak Falls. We have also defeated a wispmother, along with many beasts. We’re mainly specialized in acquiring ancient relics.”
Maven Black-Briar: “Jon, was it? I’ve heard your name whispered in certain circles. But I’m a busy woman, so let’s get to the point. What brings you and your Frostpeak Stalkers to Riften?”
Uthgerd: “We aim to make a name for ourselves here too, Maven. We’ve proven our mettle in battle and now seek opportunities to further our influence.”
Jon: “Our initial reason for coming to Riften was to deliver a very pleasant letter to your dear daughter Ingun. After fulfilling this objective, we’ve found ourselves with nothing to do. We thought… we’re a powerful band of adventurers very adept at murdering people, so let’s see if the most powerful woman in Riften has people who need to be murdered.”
Maven Black-Briar: “Well, aren’t you direct? I appreciate that. It’s refreshing. So, you’re looking for work? I might have something… But I need to know more about your band. What kind of jobs have you handled?”
Jenassa: “We’ve taken on various tasks, from clearing out ruins to hunting down specific targets.”
Jon: “We have killed a good variety of enemies from skeletons, draugr, wisps, wispmothers, saber cats, wolves, and of course skeevers. We have also killed scores of bandits. I’d say we kill about twenty to thirty people a week on average. We’re very acquainted with the arts of ending living beings’ existences, and enjoying how their blood leaks out of their orifices and their eyes.”
Maven Black-Briar: “That’s quite the resume, Jon. Very colorful. You certainly seem to have the stomach for this line of work.”
Uthgerd: “We’re no strangers to getting our hands dirty, Maven. We do what needs to be done, and we do it well. You won’t find a more capable or dedicated group in all of Skyrim.”
Ria: “We’re not just about killing though. We’ve also solved puzzles, navigated ancient ruins, and retrieved valuable artifacts.”
Jon: “It’s mostly about killing. But apart from that, Maven, I am myself also available for special jobs, the kinds that would involve pleasuring a gorgeous older woman with such a motherly body. I’ll make myself available for your attentions even if you don’t pay me.”
Maven Black-Briar: “Well now, Jon, aren’t you a bold one? I’ll keep that in mind, but let’s focus on business for now.”
Jenassa: “Perhaps it would be best to discuss any potential jobs you may have for us, Maven. We’re always looking for new challenges and opportunities.”
Ria: “Yes, please excuse Jon’s… enthusiasm. We’re a professional group, and we take our work seriously.”
Jon: “But remember, Maven, that my private offers are also handled very professionally and competently.”
Maven Black-Briar: “I’m sure they are, Jon. Now, as for work… There may be a task suited for your particular set of skills. I have some… competitors who’ve been causing trouble for my business.”
Uthgerd: “Say no more. We’ll handle them. Discreetly, of course. You’ll find the Frostpeak Stalkers are very good at making problems go away.”
Jon: “You mean competitors of your delicious Black-Briar mead? Top-notch product. After an arduous day of adventuring, there’s nothing like returning to an inn, plopping down on a stool, and kicking back with a long gulp of Black-Briar mead. It will brighten your life and provide a powerful but controlled intoxication.”
Maven Black-Briar: “Why thank you, Jon. It’s always nice to meet a satisfied customer. And yes, these competitors have been trying to undercut my mead sales.”
Ria: “We’ll make sure they don’t cause you any more trouble, Maven. You can count on us to take care of this… infestation.”
Jon: “That’s right, Maven. We could do some undercutting of our own regarding those people’s private parts, if you know what I mean.”
Maven Black-Briar: “A vivid image, Jon. I appreciate your enthusiasm.”
Uthgerd: “We’ll send a clear message, Maven. No one messes with the Black-Briar business.”
Jenassa: “We’ll need some more details about these competitors. Names, locations, any weaknesses we could exploit.”
Jon: “Jenassa here is a very experienced assassin that has likely completed many contracts involving murdering people that may or not have deserved it.”
Maven Black-Briar: “Of course, I’ll provide you with all the necessary details. I like your thorough approach. It shows you know how to get the job done right.”
Ria: “We never go in blind. Preparation is key to our success.”
Uthgerd: “Once we have the information, we’ll make our move. Your competitors won’t know what hit them.”
Jon: “Very well, Mrs. Black-Briar. We will await further contact from you or your associates regarding the details of your competition. When it comes to my personal offer, I must reiterate that I’m a connoisseur of mature, motherly bodies, and I love to worship them for hours.”
Maven Black-Briar: “You certainly have an eye for detail, Jon. I’ll consider your offer. Now, as for those details… I’ll have one of my associates deliver the information to you at the Bee and Barb. I expect discretion and swift action.”
Jenassa: “You can rely on us, Maven.”

We remained quiet until we reached a deserted alley.

Jon: “Well, I suppose that we have turned ourselves into hired thugs. An interesting development.”
Fastred: “I never thought I’d be part of something like this. It’s all so new and exciting!”
Bassianus: “Yeah, it’s a far cry from our simple life back in Ivarstead. But I’m ready for whatever comes next.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! You two are in for a wild ride with this lot.”
Jon: “If we stay in town, we’ll get used to back alleys and shady deals. As well as having to blackmail, kidnap, and perhaps kill people that may or not deserve it. We would make a lot of money, though.”
Jenassa: “Lucrative, yes, but we need to be careful. Riften is a dangerous place, and we can’t afford to make enemies unnecessarily.”
Uthgerd: “As long as we watch each other’s backs, we’ll be fine.”
Jon: “If we are to survive in Riften, we’ll have to be on the good side of the powerful. That means Maven. Let’s do her dirty work from time to time in exchange of money, and few people will bother us.”
Fastred: “I guess that makes sense, but I don’t want to do anything too terrible…”
Bassianus: “We’ll have to weigh each job carefully and decide what we’re willing to do.”
Jenassa: “Agreed. We need to maintain our reputation and not take on jobs that could come back to haunt us.”
Uthgerd: “Then it’s settled. We’ll work with the Black-Briars when it suits us, but we won’t be their lapdogs.”
Jon: “I’m open to some lapping, though.”

Some time later, we were crossing the market when the inconceivable happened: a beggar girl swiped a septim out of my loaded pocket, and walked away casually.

Jon: “Hey! I saw you, little shit!”
Olette: “Oh, bugger off! I ain’t got time for your jibber-jabber, you great lummox.”
Uthgerd: “What’s this about? Did this little whelp try to steal from you, Jon?”
Jenassa: “Be more careful with your valuables in the future.”
Jon: “This was the wrong town for us to sell our loot and end up with our pockets weighed down, wasn’t it? Even mentioning that out loud was a terrible idea. But yes, this little twerp has stolen from me! Can you believe it? My septim has ended up in the hand of a beggar girl without my consent!”
Uthgerd: “Hah! The nerve of this little thief. Trying to steal from the leader of the Frostpeak Stalkers? You’ve got guts, kid.”

The child tried to lose us at the waterfront, but we saw her darting through a doorway. It lead to a sort of abandoned sewer that a bunch of homeless had turned into their dwellings. The place stank pretty much like an active sewer. The beggar child sat down and eyed us defiantly.

Fastred: “I can’t believe someone so young would resort to stealing. Is there no other way for you to survive?”
Olette: “Oh, spare me the lecture, you lot. You think you’re so high and mighty with your fancy band of adventurers.”
Jon: “So, this is where you live, huh? Beggar’s row. You wake up every morning in the sewers under Riften, all filthy and smelly.”
Olette: “Well, la-di-da, look who thinks he’s better than everyone else. Just because you don’t live in the sewers doesn’t mean you’re any less filthy, you pompous ass.”

Uthgerd: “She’s got a point there, Jon. We’ve all seen you after a long adventure. Not exactly the picture of cleanliness.”
Fastred: “Why don’t we all just calm down and try to understand each other’s perspectives?”
Jon: “Yeah? What’s there to understand about this stupid kid? She’s poor, maybe an orphan, has a nasty mouth on her, and she steals. Is that a life that anyone should lead? She’s heading nowhere.”

Fastred kneeled in front of the girl.

Fastred: “You may not realize it, but there are other ways to live. You don’t have to steal to survive.”
Olette: “Oh, and I suppose you’re going to tell me all about the wonderful life I could have if I just stopped being a filthy little thief? Please, spare me.”
Jenassa: “You know, there are other ways to make a living, even in Riften.”
Jon: “Yes, just become a hired thug like ourselves. Not even murder is off the table. But perhaps you think yourself too high and mighty for that. Queen of the sewers.”
Olette: “Pfft, you think I want to be like you lot? Running around, getting into trouble, and for what? A few measly septims and a pat on the back?”
Jenassa: “It’s not just about the septims. It’s about the thrill of adventure, the satisfaction of a job well done.”
Jon: “A few septims?! That’s what you earn with your chosen career. After we, renowned adventurers, delve into an ancient ruin, we come out with backpacks full of loot, thousands of septims worth. With the money we earn, we eat so much delicious food that you wouldn’t believe how full the shit-buckets end up.”
Olette: “Ugh, spare me the details of your luxurious shitting habits, will you? I don’t need to know how much you’re filling buckets with your crap.”

Fastred: “I understand that you’re proud of your independence, but there’s more to life than just surviving day to day. Have you ever thought about what you truly want out of life?”
Uthgerd: “Perhaps we could help you find a more honest way to make a living.”
Jon: “You lot are way more generous and charitable than me. Take a good look at this girl, this filthy orphan with a nasty mouth, who relies on stealing from people. Do you truly believe that she’s going to grow up into someone valuable? Give her four or five years, and she’ll be found in a gutter, eaten by rats.”
Jenassa: “You’re being too harsh, Jon. No one deserves that fate, not even a thief.”
Olette: “Ha! Shows what you know, you self-righteous pricks. I’ll have you know I’m the best thief in all of Riften. I don’t need your pity or your help.”
Fastred: “I’m sure you’re very skilled at what you do, but don’t you ever wonder if there’s more to life than just stealing?”
Jon: “Fastred, you’re lovely, but naive as fuck. Underneath this beggar girl’s filthy, bad-mouthed exterior, there’s nothing but a human-shaped jar filled with black tar. No light, nothing beautiful.”
Uthgerd: “That’s a bit much, don’t you think, Jon? Even the roughest among us have some good in them.”
Olette: “Oh, boo-hoo, the big bad elf thinks I’m a jar of tar. I’m so hurt by your opinion of me. Please, tell me more about how awful I am.”
Jon: “Oh, a glutton for punishment, huh? Very well, I’ll tell you, kid: you were likely abandoned because you’re ugly. When you came out of your mother, she probably looked at you and thought, ‘Oh shit, what a horrid creature I’ve brought into this world. I regret having given birth to her. The world will never accept such a stain upon humanity. I hope that she dies quietly in the streets, and everyone who was ever hurt by her ugliness forgets that she ever existed.'”
Fastred: “Jon, that’s… that’s too far. No one deserves to hear something like that.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, even I think you’ve crossed a line here, Jon. There’s no need for that kind of cruelty.”

What was wrong with my crew? Had they all gone soft?

Olette: “You… you think you’re so much better than me, don’t you? Well, let me tell you something, you arrogant piece of shit. You may think you’re all high and mighty with your fancy clothes and your adventuring buddies, but you’re no better than me. You’re just a thief in a different way, stealing from the dead, taking things that don’t belong to you from those ancient ruins. At least I’m honest about what I am. I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. So go ahead and judge me all you want, but remember, you’re no saint yourself.”
Jon: “That’s where you’re wrong: I do not see myself as a saint. I intend to loot every single burial site in this gods-damned nation. I shall kill all of their ancestors and keep their gold for myself. I’m well aware that I’m stealing, and if it makes a hundred, or a thousand people cry, that’s a good thing, you know? Because that money will belong to me, not to stupid dead people who stink, but not as terrible as you stink, beggar girl. Even if I ripped the nastiest diarrhea fart, it would still smell like fucking roses compared to you.”
Fastred: “Jon, please, there’s no need for this kind of talk. Can’t we all just try to get along?”
Uthgerd: “Aye, Jon, I think it’s time we moved on. This conversation is going nowhere.”
Jenassa: “Agreed. We have more important things to do than argue with a child.”

As I attempted to placate my teammates, I realized that the beggar girl had given us the slip.

Jon: “She’s disappeared! I was looking at her just a moment ago. Well, I guess that’s part of her prowess as a little turd.”
Uthgerd: “Sneaky little brat, I’ll give her that. She might be a foul-mouthed thief, but she’s got skills.”
Fastred: “I hope she’s okay out there, all alone in the city. It can’t be easy for her, even with her talents.”
Jenassa: “She’s survived this long, she’ll probably be fine. But let’s not waste any more time on her.”
Jon: “I can’t believe someone stole a septim from me. That was about one five-thousand five-hundredth of my worth. That septim was in my possession, and now it’s not.”
Uthgerd: “Well, Jon, maybe this is a lesson for you. Keep a better eye on your coin purse, especially in a city like Riften.”
Fastred: “I just hope she uses that septim for something good, like buying herself a warm meal or a safe place to sleep for the night.”
Jon: “Oh, please! You know she’ll waste it on drugs. That’s why these people are poor to begin with! You shouldn’t worry about them.”
Uthgerd: “That’s a bit harsh, Jon. Not everyone who’s poor is a drug addict.”
Jenassa: “True, some are just down on their luck, or victims of circumstance. It’s not always their fault.”
Fastred: “And even if that girl does use the septim for drugs, that just means she needs our help and compassion even more. We should try to help her, not judge her.”
Jon: “If I tried to be compassionate towards her, I would have to accept the fact that I’m one septim less, and that’s not going to happen.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, I can understand that, Jon. Losing septims is never fun.”
Jenassa: “But dwelling on it won’t bring the septim back. We should focus on our next move, not on what’s already happened.”
Fastred: “And maybe, if we see her again, we can try to help her find a better way to live. One that doesn’t involve stealing or drugs.”

That evening, I was nursing a drink at the Bee and Barb to forget my misfortune when I heard someone address one of the patrons as Indaryn. The man in question was a nasty-looking Dunmer. I stood up from my stool and looked for Jenassa.

Jon: “I have to speak to you in private. Let’s ensure that nobody hears us.”
Jenassa: “Speak plainly, and let’s see what secrets you’re hiding that demand such caution.”
Jon: “That man at the bar, whom Keerava is serving. He was addressed as Indaryn. Is that the man you warned me about?”
Jenassa: “Here? Yes, he’s trouble. We’ve crossed paths before, and it never ends well.”
Jon: “I know you don’t like to speak about your past at length, but can you clarify what to expect from this Indaryn bastard? How has he hurt you?”
Jenassa: “He’ll stab you in the back and laugh while doing it. As for how he’s hurt me… let’s just say that not all scars are visible. Keep your eyes open and your wits sharp.”
Jon: “Hey, Jen, let’s kill him. I swear, if he has hurt you in any way, even if he took a single hair out of your beautiful head, I’ll just murder him.”
Jenassa: “Appreciated. But we can’t just kill him in cold blood. As much as I’d like to see him dead, we need to be smart about this. Let’s keep an eye on him and see what he’s up to.”
Jon: “Perhaps we can pretend to be in his good graces, and when he least expects it, we’ll cut his throat.”
Jenassa: “Playing nice with Indaryn? Not my idea of a good time. But if it gets us closer to taking him down, I’ll hold my tongue. Just don’t expect me to smile while doing it.”
Jon: “I’m guessing he remembers you. Is that going to be a problem? Should I speak to him alone?”
Jenassa: “He’ll remember me, no doubt. And he’ll probably try to use that against us. But I’m not the same person I was when we last met. If he thinks he can intimidate me, he’s got another thing coming.”
Jon: “Oh, Jen, I assure you that he’s not going to intimidate you. If you feel weak for even a second, I’ll blast poison bolts through that bastard’s eyeballs.”
Jenassa: “I appreciate the sentiment, but I can handle myself. If it comes to a fight, I’ll be right there with you. Just don’t go looking for trouble on my account.”

Burning with murderous intent, I confronted Indaryn, who narrowed his eyes up at me.

Jon: “Hey, Indaryn. How are you faring on this lovely evening?”
Indaryn: “I’m doing well enough, considering the company. What brings you to my neck of the woods?”
Jenassa: “Indaryn. I see you’re still slinking around Riften, causing trouble for hardworking folks.”
Jon: “I happen to be a very good friend of Jenassa, even if she wouldn’t admit it. I heard that you used to trouble her. That you had the gall to upset my gorgeous, dusky queen.”
Jenassa: “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Jon.”
Indaryn: “Oh, I remember you, Jenassa. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? As for you… I’d watch my back if I were you. Riften’s not kind to meddlers.”
Jon: “Buddy, threaten me again and I’ll shoot an icicle through your stupid face.”
Indaryn: “You think you’re pretty tough, don’t you, Jon? But you have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

Jenassa: “Indaryn, enough with the threats. We’re not here to cause trouble, but we won’t back down if you start it.”
Indaryn: “Relax, I’m just having a bit of fun. No need to get all worked up. But remember, I have powerful friends in this city.”
Jon: “Who, like Maven Black-Briar? You should know, I have her in my pocket. Soon enough I’ll taste her aged honey, suckle on her sagging tits, and make her call me her good boy. I will become her right-hand man, and if I whisper to her that you troubled me, you’ll be ground into dust.”
Indaryn: “You? Maven’s right-hand man? That’s a laugh. She’s not the type to be swayed by a pretty face and some smooth talk.”
Jenassa: “Jon, this is between me and Indaryn. Stay out of it.”
Indaryn: “You think you can just waltz into Riften and take over, do you? It’s not that simple, boy. You’ve got a lot to learn.”
Jon: “You’re used to the safety of a settlement surrounded by walls, like your smelly Riften. We come from the wilds. He have braved the colds, the ancient barrows. We have bested some of the worst creatures in this fucking world. Do you think that an ugly Dunmer like you is going to rustle my jimmies?”
Indaryn: “You’re a bold one, I’ll give you that. But courage alone won’t get you far in Riften. It takes more than that to survive here.”
Jenassa: “Indaryn, we’re not looking for trouble, but we won’t shy away from it either. You’d do well to remember that.”
Jon: “Enough of this charade, Indaryn. What did you do to my Jenassa, my deadly companion? How did you upset her to the extent that she’s still wary of you?”
Indaryn: “Jenassa and I have history, but it’s not something I’m keen on discussing with the likes of you.”
Jenassa: “It’s ancient history, Jon. Let it go. We have more important things to focus on.”
Indaryn: “Like I said, it’s in the past. But if you really want to know, maybe you should ask Jenassa yourself. She might have a different story to tell.”
Jon: “Well, Jenassa is not one to open up about her past. But I have to know, because I intend to keep my ladies happy, so I have to ask your stupid face, Indaryn.”
Indaryn: “You’re a persistent one, aren’t you? Fine, if you must know, Jenassa and I used to be close. We ran jobs together, and things got complicated. But it didn’t end well, and we went our separate ways. That’s all you need to know.”
Jenassa: “That’s enough, Indaryn. Jon doesn’t need to hear about our past.”
Jon: “Did you fuck her?”
Indaryn: “That’s none of your business. What happened between Jenassa and me is our own affair.”
Jenassa: “Jon, I said drop it. My past with Indaryn has nothing to do with you or our current situation.”
Jon: “Jenassa… I will ask for your input for the last time regarding this matter: are you sure I should drop it? Do you truly not want me to end this bastard Indaryn right here and now? Do you want me to drop the matter and pretend he hasn’t hurt you?”
Jenassa: “Jon, I appreciate your concern, but this isn’t the way to handle it. Indaryn may be a bastard, but he’s not worth starting a fight over. Let it go, for my sake.”
Indaryn: “Listen to her, Jon. You’re in Riften now, and things work differently here. You’d be wise to learn that quickly.”
Jon: “Very well, Jen. I admire you, and I’m glad to have you as my companion. As a result of such feelings you elicit in me, I shan’t meddle any longer.”
Jenassa: “Thank you, Jon. I know you mean well, but trust me, this isn’t the way to deal with Indaryn.”
Indaryn: “Smart move, Jon. You’re learning. Maybe you’ll survive in Riften after all.”
Jenassa: “Don’t push your luck, Indaryn. We may not be here to start trouble, but we won’t hesitate to finish it if you force our hand.”

My foul mood wouldn’t let me sleep. Thankfully, someone else that had caught my eyes before was also acquainted with the shadows.

Jon: “Sapphire, every night I’ve stayed here at the Bee, you’ve been posted at the same corner, looking over the clientele with an icy glare. You’re one delicious mystery.”
Sapphire: “Yeah, I’m here every night, keeping an eye on things. A girl’s gotta stay sharp in a place like this. You’re not so bad yourself, you know. Tell me, what brings you to the Bee and Barb every night?”
Jon: “Well, you already know we’re a band of adventurers. We’re currently lodging here because we’re otherwise homeless. We’ll stick around for a while doing odd jobs, perhaps some nasty ones. We’re looking for coin and power, mainly.”
Sapphire: “Sounds like something I might be interested in. You know, if the price is right. What kind of jobs are we talking about here? And more importantly, what’s in it for me?”
Jon: “We went to see Maven. We buttered her up real nice, and she offered us a little job. I guess she’ll send an associate soon enough. I don’t fear getting my hands dirty. And if that’ll get me a beautiful thing like you, I’m going to cover myself in dirt from head to toe.”
Sapphire: “Oh, so you think you can handle getting dirty with me? I like the sound of that. And if Maven’s involved, you know it’s going to be worth our while. So, what’s this job? And what do I get out of it, besides the pleasure of your company, of course?”
Jon: “We’re still waiting for the details, but I’m sure we’ll have to upset a few people, perhaps rely on sharps implements of murder. I see in your eyes that you aren’t afraid either of covering your hands in blood. I need someone like that on my side for shady jobs.”
Sapphire: “You’ve got a good eye. I’m not afraid to get my hands bloody if the job calls for it. And if it means getting closer to you, well, that’s just a bonus. So, what do you say? Ready to get your hands dirty with me?”
Jon: “Ready when you are. Are you really going to run with me and my crew when the darkness calls for it?”
Sapphire: “I’m in. But let’s get one thing straight: I’m not just another member of your crew. I’m Sapphire, and I play by my own rules. You try to pull any shit with me, and you’ll regret it. But if we’re clear on that, then yeah, I’m ready to get dirty with you.”
Jon: “Oh, I can already see, Sapphire, that we’re going to have such a good time. We’ll get all dirty, nasty and greasy. You’re going to love it.”
Sapphire: “I have no doubt about that. I’m looking forward to seeing what kind of trouble we can get into together. And who knows, maybe we’ll find some other ways to have fun along the way.”

The only member of my crew that I felt like introducing Sapphire to tonight was my dusky assassin Jenassa. We headed up to her rented room and closed the door behind us.

Jon: “Sapphire, let me introduce you to my esteemed associate and professional assassin, Jenassa. An extremely capable murderer. She’ll likely accompany us for some of our nocturnal, dirtier jobs.”
Sapphire: “Well, well, Jenassa. It’s always nice to meet another woman who knows how to handle herself in this dangerous world.”
Jenassa: “Sapphire. Your reputation precedes you as well. I’ve heard you’re quite the deadeye with a blade.”
Sapphire: “Oh, you have no idea.”
Jenassa: “I look forward to seeing your skills in action.”
Jon: “Oh, isn’t this wonderful, Jenassa? Little by little, we’re building a reliable band that can handle very specialized jobs.”
Jenassa: “Indeed, Jon. It seems you have a talent for bringing together a diverse and capable group.”
Sapphire: “Yes, I must admit, I’m impressed with what you’ve managed to put together here.”
Jenassa: “But let’s not get too cozy. We’ll have a job to do soon enough.”
Sapphire: “Oh, absolutely. I’m ready when you are.”

• Previous part (25)
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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, terrorized a hard-working father into letting his teenage daughter elope with a violent layabout.

During our nocturnal journey to Riften, I had the privilege of listening to my warriors Utgherd and Ria bonding with each other.

Uthgerd: “Ria, I’ve been meaning to ask you about your training with the Companions. How did you first get involved with them?”
Ria: “It’s been a dream of mine since I was little. I used to run around Whiterun with a wooden sword, pretending to fight alongside Ysgramor and the other heroes of old.”
Uthgerd: “That’s admirable. I’ve always respected the Companions, even if things didn’t work out between us. What about you, Ria? Do you ever regret joining them?”
Ria: “There are times when the life of a warrior weighs heavily on me, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. The Companions are my family, and I’m proud to fight alongside them.”
Uthgerd: “I can understand that. The bonds forged in battle are unlike any other. Speaking of which, how are things going for you when it comes to us, the Frostpeak Stalkers?”
Ria: “It’s been an adventure, that’s for sure. We’ve faced all sorts of dangers together, and it’s only made us stronger. I’m glad to be a part of it, even if it’s not quite the same as the Companions.”
Uthgerd: “That’s good to hear. I may not have made it into the Companions, but I’ve found a new purpose with this band. And having you by my side makes it all the better.”
Ria: “I feel the same way, Uthgerd. We may have our differences, but when it comes down to it, we’re all in this together.”

It was always hard to get a read on Jenassa. The Dunmer were stand-offish and secretive in general. Still, I didn’t want any resentment between us to linger.

Jon: “Jenassa, can I have a little one-on-one with you?”
Jenassa: “Speak your mind.”
Jon: “You do not like this one bit, do you? The fact that we’ve picked up these two strays from Ivarstead. Not the kind of development you’re accustomed to in your career as a professional murderer.”
Jenassa: “But it seems to be the way of your group. I’ll adapt.”
Jon: “Jenassa, you can open up about your displeasure, you know? If something pisses you off, or if it feels truly wrong to you. I will appreciate your input and advice. You’re a consummate pro, after all.”
Jenassa: “That’s… unexpectedly kind of you. But don’t think I’ll go soft. I’m still your blade, ready for blood when needed.”
Jon: “Regarding Riften, by the way, you didn’t seem very pleased about the fact that we were heading there. Bad memories with the place?”
Jenassa: “Dark ones. My past is bloody and not all of it was by choice. But it’s in the past. I follow where the gold and the fight lead me. Just don’t expect me to be… comfortable there.”
Jon: “Do you know any people in particular that we should be wary of?”
Jenassa: “Watch out for a Dunmer named Indaryn. He’s… trouble. And keep an eye on the Black-Briar family. They’re rich and ruthless. But I’ll be watching your back. You focus on leading us.”

An Argonian highwayman waylaid us. By the time he realized his mistake, if he ever did, he was already a corpse.

Jon: “That idiot decided to rob a band of hardened adventurers.”
Jenassa: “He picked the wrong targets. Not the first, won’t be the last. Let’s keep moving before more come.”
Jon: “Excuse me, Jen. I’m afraid that I’ll have to force you to repeat yourself, because thanks to that thief, I haven’t retained what you told me. Who was the person I should be wary of?”
Jenassa: “Indaryn. He’s a dangerous one. I’ll point him out if I see him. But don’t worry about it now. We need to keep moving. The road is dangerous.”

When we reached Riften’s gate and greeted the guards, one of them attempted to shake us down for money. A ‘visitor tax,’ he called it. I persuaded him to take a good look at us and reconsider that extortion. Reluctantly, the guard apologized and let us in.

Jon: “Can you believe it? A guard extortioning us for wanting to enter the city.”
Uthgerd: “That’s ridiculous. We’re here to help keep the roads safe and this is how they treat us?”
Jenassa: “It’s not uncommon for guards to try and extort travelers. It’s good you managed to talk him out of it.”
Alva: “I’m not surprised, given Riften’s reputation. We should keep our guard up while we’re here.”
Jon: “Yes, let’s keep our pouches safe, close to the body at all times.”
Uthgerd: “Good thinking. I don’t want anyone getting their hands on my hard-earned loot.”
Alva: “I’m not too worried. Anyone who tries to rob me will regret it quickly.”
Jenassa: “We’re all capable warriors here. No one in this city stands a chance against us.”
Alva: “I couldn’t agree more. We’ll watch out for each other and make it through just fine.”
Jon: “That’s right, if anybody in this city annoys us in any way, we’ll just raze the whole place to the ground and laugh as it burns.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! I like the way you think, Jon. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, though.”
Jenassa: “We should try to keep a low profile while we’re here. No need to draw unnecessary attention.”
Alva: “I agree with Jenassa. We’re here for a reason, let’s not get sidetracked by petty squabbles.”

I was already in a combative mood when, as we walked down Riften’s main street, a man leaning against a post barked at us to get our attention. The way he looked, he may as well have had the word “thug” tattooed on his forehead. In a threatening manner, he told us that they knew of our arrival, and that we better be in our best behavior in their city. I was guessing we were dealing with a minion of the true power in Riften, above the official authority.

Jon: “What business is it of yours, good sir?”
Maul: “Listen, elf. I’m not your ‘good sir.’ I’ve warned you about the smart thing to do in Riften. You don’t want to get on the wrong side of the Black-Briars or the Thieves Guild.”
Uthgerd: “What’s the matter? Afraid of a little competition?”
Jon: “Sir, I’m afraid this must be some sort of misunderstanding. You see, we are a world-renowned group of adventurers called Frostpeak Stalkers, and we’re acting as personal couriers of one Miss Ingun Black-Briar, of the famous Black-Briar family. We came to Riften to deliver a very important letter that will make her day.”
Maul: “You’re working for Ingun Black-Briar? Hah! In that case, you’re definitely on the wrong side of Riften.”

That threw me off. Was this Ingun the black sheep of the family?

Alva: “Ignore him, Jon. We have important business here and we can’t let some thug intimidate us.”
Jenassa: “Keep your cool, everyone. We’re here to do a job, not start trouble. Let’s just deliver the letter and be on our way.”
Ria: “I agree with Jenassa. The sooner we finish our business here, the better.”
Jon: “I have one last concern regarding you, sir. Is your vision okay? Are you seeing blurry?”
Maul: “What are you getting at, elf? My vision is fine. I see a group of troublemakers who don’t know when to keep their noses out of other people’s business.”
Alva: “Jon, stop antagonizing him. We have more important things to do.”
Uthgerd: “Yeah, Jon. Let’s focus on delivering that letter. We don’t need to waste our time with this guy.”
Jon: “Your vision cannot possibly be okay. I’m a mage, so my powers are hidden, but still, a single glance at my fearsome companions should have dissuaded you from that course of action. See Uthgerd, for example: that greataxe on her back was looted from a draugr overlord that we defeated after mowing through a couple dozen of his brethren. You think you can intimidate us? You think you can make us lower our heads? We have murdered about fifty people this week alone.”
Maul: “Big words coming from someone who still hasn’t proved themselves in Riften. I don’t care how many draugr you’ve defeated. In this city, the Black-Briars are the ones to fear.”

I had to give it to this thug: he didn’t flinch.

Alva: “Jon, let it go. We’re not here to compare body counts.”
Jenassa: “We’re not here to cause trouble. But if you keep threatening us, you’ll see just how capable we are.”

We had barely walked further for a minute or so when we heard cries. A couple of guards were pursuing a thief into the back alleys. So far, I would hesitate to endorse this town.

We headed to the closest inn we could find, an establishment festively named The Bee and Barb. Some of the clientele suggested that I should shove bear traps in my pockets. Behind the bar counter, a curious sight greeted us: an Argonian woman with a fluffy mane of feathers.

Keerava’s the name. She seemed wary of us, and asked if we had come to Riften to stir up trouble.

Jon: “We do stir up trouble on a regular basis, but mostly for bandits, for the undead who were until that point resting peacefully in their ancient barrows… What else… Wolves, bears, and the likes as well.”
Uthgerd: “Don’t forget the dragons. We took down a few of those as well.”
Keerava: “Dragons? You’ve fought dragons? That’s either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish. I can’t decide which.”
Uthgerd: “When you’re a true Nord like us, facing a dragon is just another day’s work. Right, Jon?”
Jon: “I’m afraid I dislike lying like that, but I’ll note down that you want to defeat a dragon. Keerava, felling dragons has yet to show up in our CVs.”
Uthgerd: “It’s not a lie, Jon. We will face a dragon one day. And when we do, we’ll be ready for it.”
Jon: “I don’t think that’s how truth works.”
Keerava: “I admire your confidence. But be careful what you wish for. Dragons are not to be trifled with.”
Uthgerd: “We’ll keep that in mind. But for now, we’ll focus on the threats we can handle.”
Jon: “How would one defeat a dragon, Keerava? After all, they are sort of your cousins, aren’t they?”
Keerava: “Ha! Just because I’m an Argonian doesn’t mean I have any special insight into dragons. I’m a barkeeper, not a dragon slayer.”
Uthgerd: “From what I’ve heard, you need a lot of firepower and a lot of nerve. And a good shield to block their fire breath.”
Keerava: “I’ve also heard that some use the power of the Voice, like the Greybeards.”
Jon: “You mean that they just shout at dragons? Like, insults?”
Keerava: “No, not insults. The power of the Voice is said to be a kind of magic.”
Uthgerd: “But it takes great skill and training to master.”
Keerava: “There are stories of the Greybeards using their Thu’um to actually calm dragons, rather than destroy them.”
Jon: “Maybe you could calm a dragon to the extent of making it your pet. Wouldn’t you like to ride a dragon into battle, Uthgerd?”
Uthgerd: “That would be a sight to see, indeed. Imagine the look on our enemies’ faces when they see me riding in on a dragon!”
Keerava: “Riding a dragon… Now that’s a tall tale if I’ve ever heard one. But who knows, maybe you’ll be the first. Just remember, a dragon is not a beast to be tamed.”
Jon: “Well, thank you for the conversation, Keerava. I think that my companions and I are going to hit the beds for the night. Do you have any rooms available?”
Keerava: “Of course. It’s 10 septims a night per person.”
Uthgerd: “Sounds fair. We’ll take four rooms.”
Keerava: “Very well. Here are your keys. Your rooms are just up the stairs. If you need anything, just let me know.”
Jon: “Four rooms for seven people? Fastred and Bassianus will share a bed. Obviously Uthgerd and me another. What else? Maybe Ria and Jenassa will have a slumber party together. Alva alone, then?”
Uthgerd: “Wait, what? We’re sharing beds? I didn’t agree to that.”
Jenassa: “I prefer to sleep alone. It’s safer that way.”
Keerava: “Well, you’ve already paid for four rooms. How you decide to divide them up is up to you.”
Uthgerd: “Fine, Jon and I will share. But no funny business. I’m here to sleep, not to frolic.”
Jon: “Uthgerd, we’ve already had funny business in bed.”
Uthgerd: “Jon, I swear to Talos, if you don’t stop talking like that, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to sit for a week.”
Jenassa: “Do you two ever stop bickering?”
Uthgerd: “Not really. It’s our way of showing affection.”
Keerava: “As long as you keep it civil in my establishment, I don’t care how you show your affection.”
Jon: “Well, Keerava, I hope your walls are soundproof, that’s all I’m saying.”
Keerava: “They’re thick enough. Just don’t break anything.”
Uthgerd: “Break? I’ll make sure Jon is the one who’ll be broken if he doesn’t behave.”
Jenassa: “Maybe I should sleep in the same room as you two. Just to make sure no one gets killed.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! You’re welcome to try, but I think Jon would prefer if we had some privacy.”
Jon: “Where did you get that from, Uthgerd? I’d love for Jenassa to watch. Even join in.”
Uthgerd: “You never cease to amaze me with your audacity, Jon.”
Jenassa: “I’ll pass on the offer. I have no interest in participating in your… activities.”
Uthgerd: “See, Jon? You’re on your own. I’ll deal with you myself.”
Keerava: “I run an inn, not a brothel. Please keep that in mind.”
Jon: “Hey, don’t suggest that I have to pay for affection. That’s also an insult toward Uthgerd. As if she would ever accept money for dominating men in bed.”
Keerava: “I didn’t mean to suggest anything. I just want to make sure my inn’s reputation stays intact.”
Uthgerd: “And I don’t ‘dominate men’ in bed. You make it sound so crude, Jon.”
Jenassa: “How about we all retire for the night? It’s been a long day.”
Uthgerd: “Agreed. Let’s go, Jon. Before you say something else you’ll regret.”
Jon: “Oh, I keep saying things that I soon regret, but somehow I keep repeating the same mistakes.”
Uthgerd: “That’s because you never learn, Jon.”
Jenassa: “Some people just enjoy the thrill of pushing boundaries.”
Keerava: “Just remember, there are consequences to every action.”
Uthgerd: “He’ll learn his lesson soon enough. Now, let’s get some rest. I’m exhausted.”

I intended to share the good news with the couple of lovebirds we had enlisted into our ranks. They didn’t seem bothered about my interruption.

Jon: “Hey, you two have made it to Riften. You’re free to live together as a couple, away from oppression and tyranny.”
Bassianus: “Aye, we’ve made it. Can you believe it, Fastred? We’re finally free to live our lives as we see fit.”
Fastred: “It’s like a dream come true! I can’t wait to explore the city and see what adventures await us here.”
Bassianus: “And with the Frostpeak Stalkers at our backs, there’s no telling what we can achieve. Right, Jon?”
Jon: “That’s right. After a couple of Dwemer dungeons and a few more ancient barrows that we’ll clear out with your help, you will forget all about your humble origins.”
Bassianus: “I can hardly wait. Dwemer dungeons, ancient burial grounds… it’s like a dream come true for a lad from Ivarstead.”
Fastred: “Oh, I can’t wait to see all those amazing places! And to think, we’ll be fighting side by side, protecting each other.”
Bassianus: “Aye, we’ll watch each other’s backs. Together, there’s nothing we can’t handle.”
Jon: “Bassianus, turns out that you pulling a knife on a complete stranger was a good idea after all, huh?”
Bassianus: “Heh, I guess it was. Who knew that a moment of drunken stupidity would lead to this?”
Fastred: “I’m just glad Jon saw something in you, Bassianus. Otherwise, we might still be stuck in Ivarstead, living the same boring lives.”
Bassianus: “Aye, we owe a lot to Jon and the Frostpeak Stalkers. But we’ll prove our worth, won’t we, Fastred?”

Most of my companions had retired for the night, and I didn’t want to wait any more to sample the local goods. One woman had caught my eye: a raven-haired Nord wearing strong leathers that had seen plenty of use, and who scanned the room with the tough, detached demeanour of those who’ve long been absent from polite society.

Jon: “What’s with you looking so gloomy, gorgeous?”
Sapphire: “You’re not exactly a ray of sunshine yourself, you know. What’s your story?”
Jon: “My story? I’m an Altmer, a High Elf from overseas. I came to Skyrim to study magic, and I’ve ended up in a bit of an adventure. I’ve visited Solitude, Morthal, Whiterun, Falkreath, Ivarstead, and now I find myself in Riften. I command a band of adventurers called Frostpeak Stalkers, well-renowned. I’m protected by four fearsome women that will murder my enemies for me. I’m very happy.”
Sapphire: “Sounds like you’ve got quite the little harem going on. But let me guess, you’re still missing that special someone to share your adventures with. That’s where I come in, right?”

Jon: “You’re good at reading people’s minds. You have that peculiar allure, you know: beautiful features, and the eyes of a killer. That coldness that tells me that, under the right circumstances, you wouldn’t hesitate to murder someone unpleasant for a, let’s say, charming Altmer mage called Jon.”
Sapphire: “You’ve got no idea what I’m capable of, Jon. But I’ll take that as a compliment. So, what exactly are you proposing here? Because if you’re looking for someone to warm your bed at night, you might want to look elsewhere. I’m not that easy.”
Jon: “For a woman like yourself, I can wait. I will stick around for a while in your town, selling our loot, figuring out how the power dynamics work. And I’d love to add to my ranks of powerful women someone as adapted to the shadows as you seem to be.”
Sapphire: “So you want me to join your little gang of adventurers? I prefer to work alone. But… if the price is right, I might be persuaded. I’ll tell you what, Jon. Make it worth my while, and I’ll consider joining your little band of misfits. But don’t expect me to be your personal assassin. I’ve got my own interests to look out for. And if you ever double-cross me, I won’t hesitate to put a knife in your back. So, what do you say? Do we have a deal?”
Jon: “Sexy and dangerous, just how I like them. Yeah, I think we can help each other.”

Next morning, most of the Frostpeak Stalkers hit the local stores to unload the mountains of crap we had accumulated from our recent adventures: spare weapons, armor, gems, potions, books, and stuff that I couldn’t remember how it ended up in our backpacks. We didn’t earn as much as I had hoped, but we did deplete the money that two merchants had at hand to pay for our stuff, so that was a good feeling.

At the local general trader, I started asking for the one person we had intended to meet in Riften.

Jon: “Now that we’ve gotten you to buy plenty of our loot, I have a question about one of the local residents. I hope you’ll be able to point us in the right direction.”
Bersi Honey-Hand: “Ah, one of the many colorful characters we have here in Riften, hey? What’s on your mind, friend?”
Jon: “We have an urgent letter to deliver to a certain member of the Black-Briar family. Given the trouble inherent to inquiring about Riften’s most fearsome family, I wanted to be discreet when asking about this particular member.”
Bersi Honey-Hand: “Ah, the Black-Briars. They’re a powerful family here in Riften, with their hands in many pockets. If you’ve got business with them, it’s best to tread carefully.”
Jenassa: “Discretion is key in these matters. We don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, we’ve dealt with our fair share of troublemakers.”
Jon: “We’re looking for Ingun Black-Briar in particular.”
Bersi Honey-Hand: “Ingun Black-Briar? She’s the daughter of Maven Black-Briar, the matriarch of the family. Ingun is known for her interest in alchemy and potions. You can usually find her at their manor or at the alchemy shop nearby.”
Ria: “Good to know. We’ll need to be cautious approaching her, given her family’s reputation.”
Jenassa: “Indeed. We should have a plan before we make our move.”
Jon: “Well, we’re certainly not going to enter the family manor any time soon. But the alchemy shop, you said? Let’s head there as clients, and see if we spot anyone there that could respond to that name.”
Bersi Honey-Hand: “That sounds like a wise approach. The alchemy shop is called Elgrim’s Elixirs, just a short walk from here. Ingun frequents the place to procure ingredients and share her knowledge with the owner, Elgrim.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, we can blend in as customers and keep an eye out for her. We’ll have to be subtle in our inquiries, though. We don’t want to raise suspicions.”

I tipped the shopkeeper for his help.

Jon: “Thank you, Bersi, even more so because we’re strangers in this town. We don’t intend to harm Ingun, but discreetness is best policy.”
Bersi Honey-Hand: “You’re welcome, friend. I appreciate your honesty and the septims. I hope your business with Ingun goes smoothly.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, we’ll be careful not to cause any trouble. But if the Black-Briars give us any grief, we’ll be ready to handle it.”

Jenassa: “Let’s head to Elgrim’s Elixirs and see if we can find Ingun.”

We couldn’t delay the unpleasantness any longer: we had to confront the one task that had brought us to Riften in the first place. We were going to ruin the day of this Ingun Black-Briar.

Elgrim’s Elixirs was located below the main street level, facing the river. The whole area smelled of fish. The dim interior of the store resembled an old person’s living room. We bothered the grumpy old man at the counter, who once asked about Ingun, gestured toward a woman seated beside the fireplace, reading a book. All Thrice-Bitten had said of this Ingun had suggested a scrawny, awkward-looking young woman who perhaps wore spectacles, but the real woman was wearing fine clothes, and her silky hair was styled in an elegant shoulder-length cut with a side part.

Jon: “Excuse me. You are Ingun Black-Briar, right? Elgrim told us so.”
Ingun Black-Briar: “Yes, I’m Ingun Black-Briar. What can I do for you?”
Jenassa: “We have a letter for you.”
Ria: “We thought it might be important, so we wanted to deliver it to you personally.”
Jon: “Yes, Miss Ingun. First, I want to clarify something: do you know a certain Thrice-Bitten, an Argonian, well?”
Ingun Black-Briar: “Yes, I know Thrice-Bitten. He’s assisted me in gathering ingredients for my experiments in the past. Why do you ask?”
Jon: “Would you consider yourself a friend of this Argonian? Is he someone you’re fond of?”
Ingun Black-Briar: “I wouldn’t say we’re friends, exactly. Our relationship is more… transactional. He gathers ingredients for me, and I pay him for his trouble.”
Jenassa: “The letter may shed some light on his recent activities.”
Ria: “We thought you should see it, regardless of the nature of your relationship.”
Jon: “Yes, Miss Ingun. Let me shed some light on this situation. My friends here and I, we were staying in Falkreath when we entered the local alchemy shop. We met this Thrice-Bitten character. He was browsing for rare ingredients. When we spoke to him at length, he opened up about you, Ingun.”
Ingun Black-Briar: “I see. So, you’ve met Thrice-Bitten, and he mentioned me.”
Ria: “Yes, he seemed quite intent on finding those ingredients for you. He even asked us to deliver a letter to you.”
Ingun Black-Briar: “I appreciate you bringing this to me. Thrice-Bitten can be unreliable at times, so it’s good to know there are others willing to ensure his tasks are completed.”
Jon: “Well, Miss Ingun, let me tell you, Thrice-Bitten, that character, he paid us to deliver this letter, which he wrote to you, urgently. I shall proceed to read it out loud as per Thrice-Bitten’s instructions.”
Jenassa: “Perhaps it would be better to let Ingun read the letter herself.”
Ingun Black-Briar: “Yes, I would prefer to read it privately.”
Jon: “I’m sorry, but Thrice-Bitten was extremely clear in his instructions, for which he paid us quite a bit of gold. He emphasized that I should read the letter out loud, theatrically, for maximum effect.”
Ingun Black-Briar: “I understand, but I would still prefer to read it myself.”
Jenassa: “Perhaps we could compromise and read it aloud, but in a less theatrical manner.”
Ingun Black-Briar: “Very well, if you must. Go ahead and read the letter, but please, keep it concise.”
Jon: “Very well, Ingun, I’m going to read the letter that Thrice-Bitten wrote for you, but let me preface and clarify that this letter is written by Thrice-Bitten, not me nor any other member of my group. Thrice-Bitten is the author. Is that understood?”
Ingun Black-Briar: “Yes, I understand. The letter is from Thrice-Bitten, not from any of you. Please, go ahead and read it.”
Jenassa: “We’ll remain silent while you read, unless you have any questions.”
Ria: “We’re just delivering the message, nothing more.”
Jon: “Very well, here we go… This is the entire content of the letter that Thrice-Bitten wrote for you, Ingun Black-Briar. The letter says, and I quote, ‘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.’ Signed, Thrice-Bitten.”
Ingun Black-Briar: “Well… that was certainly unpleasant.”

Throughout our conversation, Ingun seemed guarded and reluctant to interact with us, but now her face had dropped to one of cold disappointment.

Ria: “We apologize for the nature of the message, but we felt it was important you heard it.”
Ingun Black-Briar: “I appreciate your honesty and dedication in delivering this letter, despite its contents.”
Jon: “Miss Ingun, to be honest, I thought you were going to be quite upset about this letter, but you’re taking it quite stoically.”
Ingun Black-Briar: “I try not to let the words of others affect me too deeply. Thrice-Bitten’s opinion of me is his own, and I won’t let it bother me.”
Jenassa: “That’s a wise approach.”
Ria: “We just wanted to make sure you were aware of his sentiments.”
Jon: “The thing is, Ingun… This Thrice-Bitten added that he was gathering a group of hired killers to end your life. You must retaliate somehow.”
Ingun Black-Briar: “Retaliate? I don’t think that will be necessary.”
Ria: “Are you sure? It seems like a serious threat.”
Jenassa: “Perhaps it would be wise to take some precautions, at least.”
Ingun Black-Briar: “I’ll consider it, but I won’t let this control my life. I have my own ways of dealing with such matters.”

Jon: “And what are those ways you have of dealing with such matters? Does it involve bringing the problem up with your mother?”
Ingun Black-Briar: “My mother? No, I don’t involve her in such trivial matters.”
Ria: “So, you have other means of handling this?”
Jenassa: “It’s probably best not to discuss the details openly.”
Ingun Black-Briar: “Indeed, I have my methods. Let’s just leave it at that.”
Jon: “Well, you sound like a quietly dangerous person, Miss Ingun. I hope that we haven’t upset you too much with this letter that, as I said, was written by that stupid lizard Thrice-Bitten.”
Ingun Black-Briar: “Don’t worry, you haven’t ruined my day. I’m not easily upset by such things.”
Ria: “We’re glad to hear that. We were just concerned, given the nature of the letter.”
Jenassa: “It seems you have everything under control.”
Ingun Black-Briar: “Yes, I appreciate your concern, but I can handle this. Thank you for delivering the letter.”
Jon: “Well… Are we getting some reward out of this? We traveled over here from Falkreath. Had to trek through a mountain pass, and we nearly died fighting a wispmother. Perhaps a few septims or some kind of other reward is in order, don’t you think?”
Jenassa: “We didn’t come here expecting a reward, but if you feel it’s appropriate, we wouldn’t refuse.”
Ingun Black-Briar: “I suppose a small token of appreciation is in order, considering the distance you’ve traveled and the dangers you’ve faced to deliver this letter.”
Ria: “We’re grateful for any compensation you deem fair.”
Ingun Black-Briar: “Here, take these septims. I hope it’s enough to cover your troubles.”
Jon: “Oh, thank you very much for your generosity. I must say, when we heard this Thrice-Bitten yabbering about you, I thought we were going to meet some dork. But you’re a very pretty lady, and you’ve brightened my day by allowing me to appreciate your beautiful features and that silky hair of yours.”
Uthgerd: “Jon, that’s quite enough. Let’s not make this more awkward than it needs to be.”
Ingun Black-Briar: “Yes, I think it’s best if we end our conversation here. Thank you again for delivering the letter, but I must get back to my work now.”
Ria: “Of course, we understand. We’ll take our leave.”
Jenassa: “Thank you for your time, Ingun.”

We let Ingun return to her book and her thoughts.

Jon: “Uthgerd, how come most women don’t appreciate when I compliment their physical features? Shouldn’t they be happy about that?”
Uthgerd: “Jon, there’s a time and place for compliments, and this wasn’t it.”
Ria: “Yeah, we were here to deliver a letter, not to comment on Ingun’s appearance.”
Jenassa: “Some women may appreciate compliments, but others might find them inappropriate or insincere, especially in a professional context.”
Uthgerd: “Exactly. It’s best to keep things focused on the task at hand.”
Jon: “Well, if someone told me how attractive I was, I would be happy. Anyway, that letter made her feel bad, likely threatened, and I intended to make her feel a bit better by reminding her that at least she looks good. You know, as a woman.”
Ria: “I understand your intentions, Jon, but it’s best to avoid commenting on a woman’s appearance in a situation like this.”
Jenassa: “Ingun seemed to be handling the letter’s contents well enough on her own. She didn’t need us to make her feel better about it.”
Uthgerd: “Sometimes, it’s better to just stick to the matter at hand and not try to fix things that aren’t broken.”

After we exited Elgrim’s Elixirs, we loitered near its entrance. I was bummed out.

Jon: “Well, that whole thing about delivering the letter to Ingun was a bit anticlimactic, don’t you think? We came all this way from Falkreath, I nearly froze my dick off, and we almost died to a wispmother, but Ingun had the gall to not even blow up at that threatening letter.”
Uthgerd: “It’s not all about the excitement, Jon. We did what we set out to do, and that’s what matters. Ingun’s reaction isn’t something we can control.”
Fastred: “I’ve never been to Riften before… It’s so different from Ivarstead! Look at all the buildings!”
Ria: “Stay focused, Fastred. We’re not here to sightsee.”
Jon: “Are we really not in Riften to sightsee? I mean, we already did what we came for, delivering the letter to Ingun. What the hell are we doing here now?”
Uthgerd: “We’re here to make a name for ourselves, Jon. Riften is a city full of opportunities for a group like ours.”
Jenassa: “Besides, it’s not like we have anywhere else to be right now. Might as well see what Riften has to offer.”
Fastred: “I’m just excited to be in a new place with Bassianus…”
Jon: “Hey, do you think we should introduce ourselves to the rulers of this place? And should that be the jarl, or Maven Black-Briar?”
Uthgerd: “The jarl might be the official ruler, but everyone knows Maven holds the real power in Riften.”
Ria: “We should be careful not to get on her bad side. The Black-Briars are not a family to be trifled with.”
Jenassa: “If we play our cards right, having Maven as an ally could open a lot of doors for the Frostpeak Stalkers.”
Fastred: “I’ve heard stories about the Black-Briars… Are they really as bad as people say?”
Jon: “Maven Black-Briar is basically a mob boss. If she dislikes someone, she could manage to put them in jail, or just have them killed. That sort of person.”
Ria: “That’s a scary thought, Jon. I don’t want to end up on her bad side.”
Uthgerd: “As long as we don’t cause any trouble, we should be fine. We’re just a group of adventurers looking for work.”
Jenassa: “The key is to make ourselves useful to her. If she sees us as valuable, she’ll have no reason to harm us.”
Jon: “Very well then, let’s meet Maven Black-Briar.”
Uthgerd: “We need to be on our best behavior. Maven is not someone to be trifled with.”
Ria: “Remember, we’re here to make a good impression. Let’s show her what the Frostpeak Stalkers are made of.”
Fastred: “I’m a little nervous… I’ve never met someone so powerful before.”

• Previous part (24)
• Next part (26)

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, the Frostpeak Stalkers offered a win to a suicidal cat-man. They met a whole bunch of disrespectful skeletons and draugr. After clearing out an ancient barrow, my character tried to score with a bard.

The Frostpeak Stalkers were chilling at Ivarstead’s inn, passing the time until they could set off toward Riften, when I noticed a local lad in his mid-twenties, with long red hair and a goatee, eyeing us disdainfully. He may have been tipsy, but I welcomed trouble, so I confronted him for his disrespect. He blurted out that he’d stare at us however he wanted. I asked, “What are you, the local prick?”

He pulled out a dagger. As he was about to lunge at me, Uthgerd and Jenassa beat the fight out of him. By the time he pulled himself to his feet, bleeding and defeated, he shuffled to a chair and lowered himself onto it. I could have told my ladies to throw him outside, or even keep beating him to the point where he wouldn’t be able to annoy me anymore. Instead of that, I sat in front of him and asked what had him so bitter. The guy, stunned, admitted that he was angry at life and that he probably wanted to take it out on us. He introduced himself as Bassianus Axius, a local fisherman. He said he was hoping to move to Riften some time in the future.

Jon: “By yourself?”
Bassianus Axius: “That’s the plan, yeah. Unless I can convince a certain someone to come with me. But that’s a whole other story, involving her overprotective father and a whole heap of potential drama. Anyway, I’d rather hear more about your adventures. What’s the most exciting thing you’ve done so far?”
Jon: “You know that ancient burial site called Bleak Falls Barrow that is located in the mountain between Whiterun and Falkreath? Well, we cleared that out. Took defeating like fifteen bandits, a huge spider, and lots and lots of draugr. At the end we fought a draugr overlord that could shout in dragon tongue. We got good loot out of that adventure.”
Bassianus Axius: “That’s… quite the adventure. And here I am, getting excited about the prospect of moving to a slightly larger town. Maybe I need to rethink my life goals. You know, if you’re in need of another adventurer, I might be interested. The Frostpeak Stalkers could use a bitter, jaded Nord like me, don’t you think?”

He was the first person who had taken a look at us, the Frostpeak Stalkers, and thought, “Wow, these guys are the real deal. I wish I were part of that.”

Jon: “I shan’t reject you outright. What are your abilities as a prospective adventurer?”
Bassianus Axius: “Well, I’m no stranger to a fight. I’ve been in my fair share of brawls here in Ivarstead, usually over petty disputes or too much drink. I can handle a sword and shield well enough, and I’m a decent shot with a bow. And while I may not have any magical talents, I’ve got a quick wit and a quicker tongue.”
Jon: “First, I must know: who is the fortunate person that you intend to bring along to Riften?”
Bassianus Axius: “Ah, her name’s Fastred. She’s the most beautiful, kind-hearted girl you’ll ever meet.”
Jon: “I’m guessing she’s gorgeous, the way these things usually go.”
Bassianus Axius: “Absolutely stunning. The loveliest face, and a smile that could melt even the coldest heart.”
Uthgerd: “Sounds like a prize worth fighting for. What’s holding you back from making your move?”

It seems Uthgerd had transitioned from kill mode to congeniality.

Bassianus Axius: “Her father, Jofthor. He’s not exactly fond of me. Thinks I’m a waste of space, a worthless layabout with no prospects, as he puts it.”
Alva: “Ah, overprotective fathers. Always a joy to deal with.”

I stood up from the chair.

Jon: “Bassianus, that is bullshit. It isn’t true that you’re a nobody. You’re a respectable man, a member of the world-famous band of adventurers named Frostpeak Stalkers. Now, the father of your beloved should be able to accept you.”
Bassianus Axius: “I suppose he’s just looking out for his daughter. But I’m no good to Fastred if I never take any risks. If being part of your group means I can prove my worth to her and her father, then sign me up. I’m your man.”
Jon: “Bassianus, we’re gearing you up with good armor and a weapon. We expect you to fight alongside us. It’s a lot of fun, we get in trouble often. You’re going to make a name for yourself, man. When you enter a town, the villagers and going to look at you and think, ‘That’s Bassianus Axius, a member of the invincible Frostpeak Stalkers.'”
Uthgerd: “We’ll make sure you’re properly equipped, Bassianus. And the training will be brutal, but necessary.”
Bassianus Axius: “I understand. I’m ready for whatever comes my way. To be honest, I’ve always wanted to do something like this, to make a name for myself. I just never had the opportunity. Until now.”
Jon: “Isn’t this exciting, Uthgerd, Alva? Someone wants to join our band of adventurers because we’re so world-renowned. Soon enough, we’ll become an army.”
Uthgerd: “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Jon. We’re a small band, and I’d like to keep it that way. Quality over quantity, as they say.”
Alva: “Indeed. We’re a select group, carefully chosen for our unique skills and attributes. We wouldn’t want to dilute that with a bunch of newcomers who can’t pull their weight.”
Jon: “You’re two are right, of course. Anyway, Bassianus Axius, let me introduce you to these two wonderful women. This one, tall, broad, and strong, her name is Uthgerd the Unbroken, an amazing force to be reckoned with. She can destroy anybody with her greataxe or whatever weapon available. She would also be able to burst anyone’s head with her bare hands.”
Alva: “I don’t doubt that for a second. She tears through our enemies like a whirlwind.”
Uthgerd: “You’re not so bad yourself, Alva. Don’t sell yourself short. As for her, she’s the mysterious type, but she’ll still drain life and blast lightning from her hands.”
Jon: “That’s right, Bassianus. Alva is amazing. Just look at those gorgeous lips of hers. Regarding her extreme paleness, let’s say that she burns easy in the sun. Nothing you have to worry about. Anyway, I think it’s time for all of us, you as a newbie member of the Frostpeak Stalkers as well as our integral members, to talk with this father of yours. I mean, Fastred’s father. We’ll convince him to release her so she can accompany you on your new life.”

Ria and Jenassa, hanging out some distance away, were unaware of this lovely development.

Jon: “Hey, Jenassa, Ria, I know this is sort of sudden, but this man you see here all geared up with Elven armor is our new recruit. He’s called Bassianus Axius, a local lad somewhat capable with one-handed weapons. He wanted to go on an adventure, so I’ve decided to just take him in.”
Ria: “Hey there, Bassianus! Welcome to the Frostpeak Stalkers. I hope you’re ready for some wild adventures with us.”
Bassianus Axius: “Hello, everyone. Thanks for having me, Jon. I’ve been itching to get out of Ivarstead and see what trouble we can stir up.”
Jenassa: “Another one? I suppose you have potential. Just try not to get yourself killed out there.”
Jon: “The thing is, this guy is in love with a local girl called Fastred, but her father won’t allow her to go out with Bassianus. The old man believes that this guy is worthless and will go nowhere in life. We shall convince that girl’s father that such a notion isn’t true, because Bassianus is now a member of a world-famous band of adventures called Frostpeak Stalkers.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, young love! Nothing like a little romance to spice up our adventures, eh? We’ll show Fastred’s father what the Frostpeak Stalkers are made of.”
Bassianus Axius: “I appreciate it, friends. Fastred means the world to me, and I want to prove to her father that I’m worthy of her affection. With your help, I’m sure we can change his mind.”
Ria: “Don’t worry, Bassianus. We’ll vouch for you and make sure Fastred’s father knows just how capable and valuable you are.”

We marched through town like we were on a hunt, until we reached a farm in the outskirts. Tending to the fields was a white-haired man at the worst end of middle-aged. He looked like he worried constantly. Helping the man was a young, slender woman that at first sight looked worth all this nonsense.

Jon: “Excuse me, sir. Are you Fastred’s father?”
Jofthor: “Aye, that’s me. What can I do for you, stranger?”
Bassianus Axius: “Good evening, Jofthor. This here is Jon, the leader of the Frostpeak Stalkers. He’s taken me under his wing.”
Jofthor: “Is that so? And what exactly do you want with me?”
Jon: “Sir, I have heard tales of you. Tales of oppression, of tyranny, of prohibiting a young maiden from following her heart.”
Jofthor: “And who might you be referring to, elf?”
Fastred: “Papa, I think he’s talking about me.”
Jofthor: “Fastred? What have you been telling these people?”
Fastred: “Nothing, Papa! It’s just… I can’t keep living like this. I want more out of life than what Ivarstead has to offer.”
Jon: “Your daughter hasn’t talked to us. In fact, this is the first time I lay my eyes upon her fair face. But the condition of her heart is known to the entirety of Ivarstead. No, I’d say more: we, the Frostpeak Stalkers, have been summoned by the calling of her pure and compassionate heart. We heard its pleas from the plains of Whiterun, from the forests of Falkreath. We felt Fastred’s yearning to see the world, to accompany a world-renowned band of adventurers on their adventures.”
Jofthor: “You expect me to believe that you came all this way because you heard my daughter’s heart calling? That’s preposterous!”
Uthgerd: “Jon’s many things, Jofthor, but he’s not a liar. If he says that’s what brought us here, then that’s the truth.”
Bassianus Axius: “Jofthor, I know we’ve had our differences, but I love your daughter.”
Jon: “Jofthor, sir, look at this man, Bassianus, all decked out in Elven armor, with an expensive weapon at his hip. He’s ready to take on the world. And you dared to call him worthless?”
Jofthor: “You think some fancy armor and a weapon make a man worthy? It takes more than that to prove yourself, boy.”
Fastred: “Papa, please! Just listen to what they have to say.”
Jon: “Jofthor, I understand. Your daughter has a lovely figure, and her face is so youthful and beauteous that you’d want to stare at her all day and fantasize about how wonderful it’d be to hold her in your arms. Who would want to give away a lass like that? You’d want to keep her for yourself, for the rest of your life.”
Jofthor: “Excuse me? What are you trying to say, elf? You think I want to keep my daughter locked away for my own selfish desires?”
Fastred: “Papa, I’m sure that’s not what he meant.”
Bassianus Axius: “Look, Jofthor, Jon may not have the best way with words, but he’s right about one thing. Fastred deserves to see the world, and I want to be the one to show it to her.”
Jon: “Old man, you cannot raise walls against love. If you try to do so, your daughter will hate you for the rest of her life. Is that what you want?”
Jofthor: “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming into my home and telling me how to raise my daughter.”
Fastred: “No, Papa, he’s right. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life hating you, but I will if you keep me locked up here in Ivarstead.”
Jenassa: “Perhaps we should all take a moment to calm down and discuss this rationally.”
Jofthor: “And who are you? Another one of these so-called Frostpeak Stalkers?”
Jenassa: “My name is Jenassa, and yes, I am a member of the Frostpeak Stalkers.”
Jon: “Hey, Jofthor, you better not use such a tone when speaking to Jenassa. This one, with her fit figure and dusky skin, can kill anyone she wants at any moment, as she has done many, many times during our adventures. When you stare into those crimson-blood eyes of hers, you may as well be staring down Death itself.”
Jofthor: “Is that a threat, elf? Because it sure sounds like one.”
Jenassa: “Jon, please. Let’s not make this any more difficult than it needs to be.”
Fastred: “Papa, I love you, but I can’t keep living my life for you. I want to see the world, to go on adventures with Bassianus and the Frostpeak Stalkers.”

Jofthor: “And what happens when you get yourself killed out there, Fastred?”
Jon: “We’ll bury her, say our last rites, maybe shed some tears because we’ll never see that gorgeous figure and face again. Then we’ll pick up our swords and keep fighting beyond the day when we’ll forget that Fastred ever existed. That’s the way of the warrior.”
Jofthor: “You want me to just forget about my own daughter if she dies? What kind of heartless monster are you?”
Fastred: “Papa, please. I know the risks, and I’m willing to take them. It’s my life, and I want to live it to the fullest.”
Bassianus Axius: “Jofthor, I swear on my life that I’ll protect Fastred with everything I have.”
Jon: “Jofthor, sir, your daughter’s fate is for some strong man to steal her away from you. Even though she was once your darling little daughter, she will belong to another man who will take care of her, hold her in his arms, and make love to her over and over. She will learn to call someone else ‘papa.'”
Jofthor: “Now listen here, you pointy-eared bastard. I won’t have you talking about my daughter that way.”
Jon: “By the way, how old are you, Fastred?”
Fastred: “I’m fifteen.”
Uthgerd: “Jon, maybe it’s time we leave these people be. This isn’t our fight.”
Bassianus Axius: “This is my fight. Jofthor, I understand you’re angry, but that doesn’t give you the right to attack my friend.”
Jon: “That’s right. Even though I met Bassianus just today, and the first two things he did was disrespect me and pull a knife on me, we’re already friends. He’s also a member of the Frostpeak Stalkers. By rights, he’s going to take away your beloved daughter so we can all go together on a multitude of adventures, and you can do nothing about it but cry like a little bitch.”

Ria took Fastred into her arms while her father glared at me, teary-eyed.

Jon: “Jofthor, you’ve always known it was coming, and today is the day your darling daughter finally abandons you. Perhaps you will never see her again. Perhaps she’ll visit you one day round with child, but it won’t be yours.”

Jofthor clenched his fists, shaking with anger.

Fastred: “Papa, please. I know this isn’t easy for you, but it’s my life.”
Jon: “As of today, your daughter Fastred is a member of Frostpeak Stalkers. She will take on the evils of this world, accompanying us on many adventures, and everybody is going to be happy about it except for you.”
Jofthor: “You… You…”
Fastred: “Goodbye, Papa. I love you, but this is something I have to do.”

Fastred took Bassianus’ hand. We all turned our backs on her old man, and walked away.

Jon: “That conversation went wonderfully, I must say. Welcome, Fastred, to the ranks of Frostpeak Stalkers!”
Fastred: “Thank you, Jon! I’m so excited to join you all on your adventures. I’ve always dreamed of exploring the world beyond Ivarstead.”
Bassianus Axius: “Fastred, I’m glad you decided to come with us. I promise I’ll keep you safe out there.”
Ria: “It’s great to have you both with us!”
Jon: “Yeah, Fastred, and I’ll never get tired of looking at that pretty face of yours. By the way, what kind of martial weapons are you good with? Swords, maces, axes? Bows, crossbows?”
Fastred: “Well, I’ve always been pretty good with a bow. My father taught me how to hunt with one when I was younger. So I guess you could say I’m a decent shot!”
Bassianus Axius: “She’s being modest. I’ve seen Fastred take down a deer from fifty yards away. She’s an excellent marksman.”
Jon: “Hey, look at that, we’ve gotten ourselves a dedicated archer. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Ria: “Absolutely! Every adventuring group needs a skilled archer. Welcome to the team, Fastred!”
Jenassa: “A bow-woman will be a good addition to our group. Let’s make sure she has proper equipment.”
Uthgerd: “Fastred, you’ll need to work on your strength and endurance to keep up with us.”
Bassianus Axius: “She may be young, but she’s got the heart of a true adventurer. Fastred is more than prepared for this life.”
Ria: “Age is just a number anyway. The fact that Fastred is here with us now says a lot about her bravery and determination.”
Jon: “Well, Bassianus, Fastred, I must say, as the leader of the world-renowned Frostpeak Stalkers, that when I came to the little town of Ivarstead, I hadn’t expected to make two new friends, never mind two friends that are in love with each other. I feel that bringing you together has made up for plenty of the evil I have committed over the years, so I’m glad to welcome you into our ranks.”
Fastred: “Thank you so much, Jon! That means a lot to us. We won’t let you down!
Bassianus Axius: “We’re honored to be a part of your team, Jon. We’ll fight by your side and prove our worth.”
Uthgerd: “Haha, listen to Jon getting all sentimental! But he’s right, this is a good thing we’ve done today.”

The sun had set, so we grabbed Alva and gathered at the town’s entrance.

Jon: “Let’s be off onto further adventures. Onward, Frostpeak Stalkers!”

As we put more and more distance between Ivarstead and ourselves, something was nagging at the back of my mind. Had I forgotten to buy something? No, there wasn’t even a store in town. What then…? Ah, Lynly, that pretty bard. I hadn’t even said goodbye to her. Oh well, there must be plenty of good-looking women in Riften.

Jon: “Fastred, Bassianus, I bet that when you woke up this morning, you didn’t expect that by the end of the day, you’d belong to a world-famous band of adventurers.”
Fastred: “Oh, I don’t know about famous, but I’m just so excited to be part of something bigger than Ivarstead!”
Bassianus Axius: “Famous or not, it’s a chance to prove ourselves. And to be honest, I like the sound of Frostpeak Stalkers. It’s got a nice ring to it.”
Uthgerd: “Hah! You two have spirit, I’ll give you that.”
Jon: “Well, let me introduce the two of you to this pale beauty beside me. Her name is Alva, and she hails from Morthal, a little marshy town to the northwest.”
Alva: “Charmed, I’m sure.”
Fastred: “A pleasure to meet you, Alva! I’ve never been to Morthal. What’s it like?”
Alva: “Oh, you know. Marshy.”
Bassianus Axius: “You’re… You’re a vampire, aren’t you?”
Jon: “How could you tell?”
Bassianus Axius: “I guess I just put that together.”
Fastred: “Wait, really? A real vampire?”
Alva: “Yes, it’s true. I am a vampire.”
Ria: “And a valuable member of our team. We’ve fought beside Alva, and she’s proven herself time and time again.”
Jon: “I guess that the presence of a vampire in our group is uncanny to a pair of villagers, but when you’re a renowned adventurer, you end up engaging with people from all walks of life. What matters in the end is how willing those people are to fight on your side and have your back.”
Bassianus Axius: “I… suppose you’re right. It’s just a lot to take in.”
Fastred: “It’s a different world, for sure. But… I think I can handle it.”
Alva: “You’ll get used to it. And me. Eventually.”
Uthgerd: “Hah! Listen to Jon. He talks pretty, but he’s right. In this life, it’s about who you can count on.”
Jon: “Yes. From now on, you two are going to witness many of the strange wonders that Tamriel has to offer.”
Fastred: “I can’t wait to see them all!”
Bassianus Axius: “I’m ready for whatever comes our way.”
Alva: “Just remember, not all wonders are beautiful. Some are… quite the opposite.”
Ria: “But that’s why we stick together. To face whatever strangeness comes our way.”

Along the way, we were interrupted by skeevers, by wolves, by a dog-sized frostbite spider, and a squad of goblins, those delightful semi-sentient guys who love to kidnap women and use them as broodmares. Fastred and Bassianus were nervous about the trouble one found on the road, but they had great bodyguards.

Jon: “Hey, do you want me to recount one of our latest adventures, so you know what you’ve gotten yourselves into?”
Bassianus Axius: “I’d love to hear more about your adventures. It’ll give us an idea of what to expect.”
Fastred: “Yes, please! Tell us a story!”
Uthgerd: “Let’s see if these two can handle a tale of the Frostpeak Stalkers.”
Alva: “Oh, I know just the one.”
Jon: “Oh, Alva, what tale do you want to bring up?”
Alva: “Well, I was thinking about the time we cleared out that den of monsters. Remember, Jon?”
Uthgerd: “Oh, that was a night. We fought through hordes of creatures, side by side.”
Fastred: “Wow, that sounds incredible!”
Bassianus Axius: “I can’t wait to be part of something like that.”
Jon: “Of all the stories you could have brought up, you came up with a fake one. That supposed den of monsters in the Whiterun hold was composed of a single saber cat. We took that job from a missive board, and we ended up facing one solitary saber cat that we proceeded to slaughter. Contract over.”
Alva: “Oh, right. I guess that story wasn’t as exciting as I remembered.”
Uthgerd: “Hah! Not every contract is a grand adventure. Sometimes it’s just a big cat.”
Fastred: “Still, it’s more than I’ve ever done.”
Bassianus Axius: “Maybe our first adventure will be something grander.”
Jon: “Speaking of something grander, you see that huge greataxe on Uthgerd’s broad back? We stole that from a draugr overlord in the depths of an ancient ruin. We woke up every undead Nord along the way, and had to fight through all.”
Uthgerd: “Now that’s a story worth telling! We fought tooth and nail for this axe.”
Alva: “And the treasures we found… it was quite the haul.”
Fastred: “That sounds so exciting! I hope we have an adventure like that.”
Bassianus Axius: “I’m ready to fight for my own grand treasure.”
Jon: “I shall confess to you, Fastred and Bassianus, that as a team, Frostpeak Stalkers is working toward amassing enough money to buy our own house or land. We want a base of operations in which to plan our adventures and store our loot.”
Fastred: “Our own land? That sounds wonderful!”
Bassianus Axius: “A place to call our own… I like the sound of that.”
Alva: “It’s a good goal to work towards. We’ll need to take on more contracts to afford it.”
Uthgerd: “And with these two joining us, we’ll be able to take on even more.”
Jon: “And you know, in a big house of our own, maybe two young lovers will have their own room in which to do naughty stuff, away from the disapproving eyes of the girl’s tyrannical father.”
Fastred: “Our own room? Oh, Bassianus, can you imagine?”
Bassianus: “It would be a dream come true.”
Alva: “Well, aren’t you two just the cutest thing.”
Uthgerd: “Just remember, walls can be thin. Keep that in mind.”
Jon: “Uthgerd, you say that, but you didn’t have in mind the thinness of the walls at the Bannered Mare the night you ravished me.”
Uthgerd: “Hah! That was different. And don’t you go telling tales, elf.”
Fastred: “Well, if the walls are thin, we’ll just have to be quiet, won’t we, Bassianus?”
Bassianus Axius: “I can be as quiet as a mouse if it means being with you.”
Jon: “Why don’t the two of you enlighten us on how you met? Make it cute.”
Fastred: “Oh, well, it was at the Vilemyr Inn, in Ivarstead. I had taken a break from helping out my parents at the farm, and Bassianus was there, looking all broody and mysterious.”
Bassianus Axius: “And then this beautiful girl walks up to me and just starts talking, like we’ve known each other for years.”
Fastred: “I couldn’t help it! You just looked so interesting.”
Alva: “That’s adorable.”
Jon: “Hey, Bassianus, did your heart leap at the sight of that button nose and those doe eyes of hers?”
Bassianus Axius: “It did more than leap. It damn near soared out of my chest.”
Fastred: “Oh, Bassianus, you’re so sweet.”
Alva: “It’s always heartwarming to see young love.”
Uthgerd: “Just remember, kid, treat her right. Or you’ll answer to me.”
Jon: “Have in mind, Bassianus, that the measure of Uthgerd’s ‘treating someone right’ is to pin that person on the bed and take away their innocence while glaring and grinning.”
Bassianus Axius: “I’ll… keep that in mind.”
Fastred: “Bassianus… are you blushing?”
Alva: “Oh, this is too much. You two are just precious.”

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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, the Frostpeak Stalkers, renowned band of adventurers, discovered that the courier they were searching for had been eaten by bears, so they decided to become couriers themselves. My character met a suicidal cat-man monk.

Half past one in the afternoon and we were still in Ivarstead, closest town to the start of the trail that, about 7,000 or so steps later, perhaps significantly fewer, should lead to the top of High Hrothgar, tallest mountain in the world.

Jon: “I intended for the three of us to sell our loot at the local blacksmith and general trader, but turns out that the town is too small for even that.”
Uthgerd: “No blacksmith, huh? Just our luck. We’ll have to lug this gear around a bit longer, I suppose.”
Jenassa: “It’s not ideal, but we’ve dealt with worse. We can always head to the next town and try there.”
Jon: “Well, we can’t leave until night-time, when Alva, our lovely vampire friend, will be able to accompany us. So, how about we explore the surroundings of the town? Maybe we’ll get to stir up some trouble.”
Uthgerd: “Stirring up trouble is what I live for, Jon. Let’s see what we can find. Maybe there’s a bandit camp nearby that needs clearing out.”

We crossed the river onto a little island, and found ourselves facing the pitch-black entrance of a cave.

Jon: “I doubt that I need to ask, but are you up for a little spelunking?”
Ria: “Spelunking? You mean exploring caves? I’m always ready for an adventure!”
Uthgerd: “Bah, you know I’m in. Let’s see what’s lurking in there.”
Jenassa: “As long as there’s the promise of coin or valuable loot, I’m game. Lead the way, Jon.”

Instead of the mazes of ancient ruins we had gotten accustomed to, this was natural cave that a bunch of skeevers had turned into their nest. The most prominent feature of the cave was a hole in the ground, that led to water about two stories below.

Jon: “I’m quite tempted to jump.”
Uthgerd: “Watch yourself, Jon. We don’t know what’s lurking in that water.”
Ria: “I agree with Uthgerd. We should find a safer way down. Maybe there’s a path or something we missed?”
Jenassa: “Reconnaissance is key. I say we take a moment to scout the area, look for alternative routes. Let’s not rush into traps or an ambush.”
Jon: “Yeah, I guess my suicidal plan of jumping into a hole in a cave is not a good idea.”
Ria: “At least you’re aware enough to recognize that, Jon. Let’s use our heads and find a smarter way down.”
Uthgerd: “You may be brave, but even the gods favor caution at times. Let’s keep looking around.”
Jenassa: “We’re all here because we trust your leadership, Jon.”
Jon: “By which you mean, Jenassa: do not betray our trust by doing something as stupid as jumping down a hole in the middle of a cave.”
Jenassa: “Essentially, yes. We trust you not to lead us into needless danger. Keep that trust.”
Ria: “We know you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Jon. Use it and let’s make it through this cave in one piece.”

All we found in the cave was the corpse of an adventurer. He had a bit of money on him, as well as a book called Lost Legends of Skyrim.

Jon: “Let’s see what it says.”
Uthgerd: “Hmm, Lost Legends of Skyrim? Sounds intriguing. What’s it about, Jon?”
Ria: “Maybe it’s about hidden treasures or legendary warriors. I’m curious to hear what you find in there, Jon.”
Jenassa: “Knowing our luck, it could be something dangerous.”
Jon: “It speaks of the sons of a powerful wizard named Gauldur, from the First Era, that apparently were pursued for reasons. One of those sons was supposed to have perished in a cave called Folgunthur, at the foot of Solitude. The rest is vague. I don’t know if you ladies would like to pursue a potentially pointless lead in the Solitude hold.”
Ria: “A powerful wizard’s legacy? That sounds like it might be worth checking out.”
Uthgerd: “I’m always up for a challenge. And if there’s some truth to these legends, it might just be the kind of adventure we’re looking for. What do you think, Jenassa?”
Jenassa: “If there’s potential for valuable loot or powerful artifacts, I say it’s worth a shot. But let’s not get our hopes up. These are legends, after all.”
Jon: “Well, if our globetrotting adventures bring us to Solitude, I guess we could try to find this cave.”
Ria: “Sounds like a plan to me. We’ll just have to keep our eyes and ears open for any clues leading to the cave.”

There wasn’t much else to do in the surroundings of Ivarstead. They lived pretty peacefully, other than for the constant threat of being eaten by a bear. And they couldn’t complain about the views.

However, when we returned to the inn and ordered some drinks at the bar, the innkeeper told me a spooky tale about the ancient barrow located just across the street. Apparently it had been long rumored to be haunted. A year or so earlier, an adventurer had swaggered into the inn and claimed that he would clear out the ancient ruin. However, he was never seen again. What the innkeeper had seen with his very own eyes, though, was a ghost making spooky gestures from the burial site’s entrance. Ever since, the innkeeper never approached that place.

That was as much motivation as I, as well as the rest of my companions who could walk in daylight, needed to explore that site. The ground level was normal enough: a few open sarcophagi, and broken pottery. What we didn’t expect to find was a monk-like Khajiit sitting alone beside a sarcophagus as if meditating.

Jon: “Dar’Rakki, are you lost? We entered this barrow thinking we would have to kill a few undead, only to find you instead.”
Dar’Rakki: “Ah, well met, travelers. Lost? Perhaps, but not in the way you might think. Dar’Rakki finds himself pondering the mysteries of life and the paths that have led this one here. The gods work in mysterious ways, do they not?”
Ria: “It’s not every day you see a Khajiit philosopher in an ancient Nord ruin. What brings you to such a place?”
Jon: “Perhaps ancient Nord ruins help one philosophize freely.”
Dar’Rakki: “Indeed, the weight of history in these ancient stones is a fitting backdrop for introspection and contemplation.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, there’s wisdom to be found in the echoes of the past. But sometimes, action speaks louder than words. What’s your story, Khajiit?”
Jenassa: “Speak plainly, cat. We’ve faced many dangers in these crypts and have little patience for riddles.”
Dar’Rakki: “Ah, a fair request. This one is a traveler, seeking understanding and perhaps a place to call home in this land of Skyrim.”
Jon: “Yeah, I already asked Dar’Rakki about his story. Apparently, a fellow Khajiit asked him to come to Skyrim to work the caravan business. Unfortunately, his dear friend was ambushed by bandits and died. He’s distraught, understandably so, and alone in Skyrim. There aren’t many cat people here, and no other race is covered in fur.”
Dar’Rakki: “Jon, your understanding and empathy is a rare gift. Your words touch this one’s heart in a way Dar’Rakki thought no Nord ever could.”
Jenassa: “Hmph. Just because we’re not Khajiit doesn’t mean we can’t understand loss and your pain. We’ve all faced hardships in our own ways.”
Ria: “Jenassa’s right. Grief knows no boundaries between races.”
Jon: “Dar’Rakki, I will touch you more if you want. Khajiit fur looks very soft.”
Dar’Rakki: “Oh… This… this one appreciates the sentiment, Jon, but Dar’Rakki is not sure if this one is ready for such… intimacy. Though Dar’Rakki must admit, the thought is quite… intriguing.”
Jon: “Well, Dar’Rakki, are you planning on actually climbing the steps to the top of High Hrothgar?”
Dar’Rakki: “Dar’Rakki… must admit, this one is uncertain. The prospect of climbing such a vast number of steps is daunting, but perhaps that is the very challenge Dar’Rakki needs to overcome this one’s doubts and fears.”
Ria: “It’s no easy feat, that’s for sure. But I’ve always found that the toughest challenges are the ones most worth facing.”
Jenassa: “A wise sentiment, Ria. Let’s see if this one’s got the strength to match his words.”
Jon: “Well, Dar’Rakki, me and the rest of my team, who are called by the way Frostpeak Stalkers, are going to delve into this ancient, possibly cursed ruin, to strip it of its valuables.”
Dar’Rakki: “Ah, the Frostpeak Stalkers. A fitting name for a group of adventurers such as yourselves. Dar’Rakki wishes you success and safety in your endeavors within these ancient walls.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, may our blades strike true and our pockets grow heavy with loot.”
Jenassa: “Let’s get moving. We’ve got work to do, and these Draugr aren’t going to kill themselves.”
Jon: “What did I tell you, ladies? Didn’t I tell you that the name Frostpeak Stalkers was fantastic?”
Ria: “Haha, yes Jon, you did say that. And we agreed, didn’t we? The name has a nice ring to it.”
Uthgerd: “I still think Uthgerd’s Unbroken Badasses had a more personal touch, but I suppose Frostpeak Stalkers will do.”
Jenassa: “Enough about the name. We have bigger concerns now. These ruins won’t explore themselves.”
Jon: “That is one troubling thought. Maybe in the future a machine will be invented that will be able to auto-explore ruins by itself. Adventurers will find themselves out of a job.”
Ria: “Hah! Let them try. There’s no machine that could ever replace the thrill of adventure and the satisfaction of a hard-fought victory.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, let’s not worry about the future too much. There’s plenty of work to be done here and now.”

The first underground level of the ancient ruin was surprisingly deserted. After avoiding a couple of traps and solving a puzzle that involved levers, we came across the first surprising sight: an actual ghost. It had the form of a man, perhaps an elf. It attacked us on sight. Thankfully, both magic and magical weapons damage ghosts. That apparition had been inhabiting a camp that, we soon learned, had been set up by the adventurer the innkeeper mentioned.

Jon: “I have found a journal on this guy’s corpse. Apparently he had set up camp down here to search for a burial chamber supposedly filled with treasures. However, he realized that he needed one of those claws to solve the puzzle of a door. He never found it, and instead he went nuts and died.”
Ria: “Poor guy, losing his mind like that. But a burial chamber filled with treasure sounds promising!”
Uthgerd: “Aye, it does. But we need to be careful. If he went mad searching for it, there’s no telling what dangers we might face.”
Jenassa: “True, but think of the rewards if we succeed where he failed. It’s worth the risk.”
Jon: “Listen, this guy apparently spent a year or more in this place, but he didn’t find the claw. The journal mentions the local innkeeper, Wilhelm, by name. Maybe we should bring the journal to him.”
Uthgerd: “Hmm, that’s not a bad idea. Wilhelm might know something we don’t.”
Jenassa: “I agree. If we can find that claw, we’ll have a better chance at getting through that door and claiming the treasure.”
Uthgerd: “Then let’s get moving. The sooner we talk to Wilhelm, the sooner we can get our hands on the loot.”

We promptly exited the ancient barrow, crossed the street, and waltzed into the inn.

Jon: “Yo Wilhelm, we have to speak to you. It’s quite important, and concerns the ancient barrow.”
Wilhelm: “Ah, the ancient Nordic barrow? What about it, friend?”
Ria: “We found this journal on a corpse, Wilhelm. It mentions a treasure-filled burial chamber.”
Uthgerd: “But the fool couldn’t find a claw needed to solve some door puzzle. Ended up going mad and dying in that ruin.”
Jon: “Yes, this Windelius character, that adventurer’s name, just pretended that the barrow was haunted so you wouldn’t bother him while he searched for the claw.”
Wilhelm: “Ah, I see. Ghost stories to keep folks away.”
Jenassa: “A common enough tactic. Though it seems it didn’t work out well for him in the end.”

Turns out that Wilhelm owned the sapphire dragon claw that the journal mentioned. Like the one we found in Bleak Falls Barrow, this claw’s palm showed a combination of symbols that should open a door puzzle.

Jon: “This claw should allow us, the world-famous Frostpeak Stalkers, to solve the riddle of your Nordic barrow. We shall claim its ancient treasure! I assume you’re well aware that whoever clears out a ruin becomes the owner of the loot.”

Wilhelm chuckled and shook his head.

Wilhelm: “World famous, you say? I don’t think I’ve heard of the Frostpeak Stalkers before, but I’ll take your word for it.”
Ria: “That’s right, we’re the Frostpeak Stalkers! Soon our tales will be sung in every tavern from here to High Rock.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, the bards will sing of our exploits.”
Jon: “They will proclaim the beauty of our members, at least the women’s, as well as how charming and attractive the sole male member of the group was, an Altmer named Jon.”
Jenassa: “I suppose we are beautiful, in our own deadly way.”

Excited, we hurried back to the burial site. We found Dar’Rakki still sitting at the same spot, either meditating or passing time.

Jon: “Yo Dar’Rakki, do you want to hear some interesting news regarding this barrow? We have explored enough of it to realize that it isn’t actually haunted: an adventurer had holed himself up inside and pretended that the place was haunted so nobody would find the treasure before him.”
Dar’Rakki: “Treasure, you say? In this ancient barrow? Hmm, this one wonders what kind of treasure it could be.”
Jenassa: “The adventurer is dead. That fool couldn’t figure out how to enter the treasure chamber and eventually went insane, likely from the isolation in this place.”
Dar’Rakki: “A dark jest, indeed. But the true treasure… it must be well hidden in this place.”
Jon: “So, Dar’Rakki, do you want to accompany us, the Frostpeak Stalkers, into the depths of this ancient barrow that is possibly haunted, to discover the secrets of the place?”
Dar’Rakki: “Jon, this one appreciates the offer, but Dar’Rakki must admit, the thought of facing the unknown in this ancient barrow gives this one pause. The mysteries of life and death weigh heavily on Dar’Rakki’s mind.”
Ria: “Dar’Rakki, I understand your hesitation, but imagine the stories we’ll have to tell after we conquer whatever challenges lie ahead! This is what being part of the Frostpeak Stalkers is all about.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, there’s nothing like the thrill of facing the unknown and emerging victorious.”
Jon: “That’s right, Dar’Rakki. One day you shall return to your homeland, Elsweyr, or wherever you’re from. Imagine telling your kin that you accompanied three gorgeous women, a Dark Elf, a Nord and… I’m not sure if Ria is a Nord or an Imperial, but anyway, also an Altmer mage, into the depths of an ancient Nord barrow and came out victorious!”
Ria: “I’m actually a Nord, Jon. But Dar’Rakki, don’t you want to experience what it’s like to be part of something greater, to forge bonds in the heat of battle?”
Dar’Rakki: “Your words are compelling, my friends. The prospect of being part of such a tale is indeed tempting.”
Jon: “To be honest, Dar’Rakki, I don’t know if you would be of any use in our little adventure, but it could be fun anyway. It’s not like you’re busy right now.”
Dar’Rakki: “You may be right, Jon. Dar’Rakki’s current state of contemplation and inaction serves little purpose.”
Ria: “Aye, joining us might give you a chance to find some answers you seek, or at least a distraction from your troubles.”
Jon: “That’s right, Dar’Rakki. There are more important things in this world than figuring out whether or not there are exactly 7,000 steps to the top of High Hrothgar.”
Dar’Rakki: “Perhaps you are correct. This one has been consumed by thoughts of deceit and betrayal, but what good does it do Dar’Rakki to dwell on such things?”
Ria: “Right, there’s so much more to experience and discover out there in the world!”

Uthgerd: “Like the feeling of cleaving a draugr’s skull in two with a mighty swing of your weapon.”
Jenassa: “Or the satisfaction of choosing the perfect moment to strike from the shadows. Dar’Rakki, joining us might just give you a new perspective on what’s truly important.”
Jon: “I’m afraid you have to choose whether or not you come with us, because I’m itching to get my greasy, greedy hands on that treasure.”
Dar’Rakki: “Very well. Your enthusiasm for the task at hand is infectious, and Dar’Rakki finds himself drawn to the prospect of the unknown, despite this one’s reservations.”
Ria: “That’s the spirit, Dar’Rakki! We’ll face whatever comes together, as the Frostpeak Stalkers!”
Uthgerd: “And if we find that treasure, we’ll all get a share. It’s only fair.”
Jenassa: “Just remember, Dar’Rakki, once you join our little band, there’s no turning back.”
Jon: “Hey, I didn’t mean for Dar’Rakki to join our little band for more than this adventure. Also, I never spoke of him getting a cut of the treasure.”
Uthgerd: “Jon, you can’t just go around making promises and then taking them back on a whim.”
Ria: “It wouldn’t be right to let Dar’Rakki join us and then not share the treasure equally.”
Dar’Rakki: “It seems there is much to consider before making a decision. Unfortunately, the intricacies of your group’s dynamics may require more contemplation than this one is willing to dedicate at the moment.”

Awkwardly, the Frostpeak Stalkers entered the ruin by themselves.

Jon: “Well, I suppose we are not getting a cat companion at the moment.”
Uthgerd: “So it seems. We’ll just have to make do with the capable warriors we already have.”
Jenassa: “Right. We don’t need to take on any more liabilities, especially not someone who appears more interested in contemplation than combat.”
Ria: “And really, that’s all we need. The Frostpeak Stalkers are strong enough to handle whatever comes our way, even without additional members.”
Jon: “You know, ladies, between us, not that I’m implying that I’m a lady… Dar’Rakki admitted that if he discovers that the steps to the mountaintop aren’t exactly 7,000, he intends to kill himself. So I’m a bit worried for him.”
Jenassa: “Jon, if that’s true, then Dar’Rakki needs more help than just an adventure with us.”
Uthgerd: “He might benefit from training his body as well as his mind, to give him something else to focus on.”

After some searching, we found ourselves in a ceremonial chamber that ended in a puzzle door. Our newly acquired claw solved that problem. The door opened to a long-sealed maze of corridors, niches, and many, many draugr. There were also floor traps that if triggered, launched a spiked gate against your whole self. Most of the dangers, we had already learned how to face them thanks to Bleak Falls Barrow, but one of the draugr types glowed blue and shot lightning that not only hurt real bad, but blinded me of my immediate surroundings. I relied on healing my companions and taking pot-shots at those draugr once we managed to isolate them. Tough bastards.

By the time we came across a big, proper chest, I crouched in front and attempted to insert a lockpick, only to find myself unable to do so. As I wondered why, the chest stood up. It had grown slender legs and arms. The latter proceeded to flail around, hitting anyone within reach. Ria, surprised as I was, got knocked against the wall. As I retreated, I couldn’t decide how to attack that creature: we had found ourselves fighting in a narrow corridor against a chaotic opponent. Any flames or poison bolts I shot could hurt my companions instead, so I opted for healing their wounds. In the end, the grotesque chest-creature lay dead, mouth gaping.

Jon: “I don’t think I’m going to forget that one any time soon.”
Uthgerd: “By the gods, I’ve never seen a chest try to bite someone’s face off before! Quite the surprise, eh?”
Ria: “I thought these mimics were just a myth! This is incredible! We’ll have quite the story to tell back at the mead hall.”
Jenassa: “I must admit, I didn’t expect such a creature to exist outside of tales.”

As if the mimic wasn’t enough, when we peeked into the next chamber, we saw a multiplatform stage with carefully spaced, closed sarcophagi, the whole structure surrounded by a moat. Boss fight if I’ve ever seen one.

Jon: “I’m sure that many draugr will leap out of those sarcophagi any time now. I’ll be ready to heal you when you need it.”
Ria: “Aye, this room reeks of danger. But we’re ready for whatever ancient horrors lie in wait! Bring it on, I say!”
Uthgerd: “Let them come. We’ve faced worse and lived to tell the tale. They’ll regret the day they crossed paths with the Frostpeak Stalkers!”

A lot of hurting and undead-killing later…

Jon: “That was a proper horde of skeletons and draugr. How many did we kill?”
Uthgerd: “By Ysgramor, that was quite the battle! Never have I seen so many undead fall before us!”
Ria: “The gods must have been watching over us! I lost count of how many we struck down. Must have been at least a dozen, if not more!”
Jenassa: “A formidable fight, indeed. It’s good we prepared for the worst and had Jon’s healing spells at the ready.”
Jon: “Oh, I think that was it. This draugr over here seems to be the overlord. A doubt that an ancient Nord barrow would have two, so we may have already cleared out this place.”

The final battle at Bleak Falls Barrow introduced the boss in a theatrical fashion: he alone climbed slowly out of his sarcophagus as if pissed off because we had awakened him. This most recent draugr overlord mixed himself with his brethren, only to fall like any other. Too bad for him.

By the time we trudged back to the surface, it must have been four in the morning. We found Alva enjoying herself at the inn.

Jon: “Sorry Alva, I know we were supposed to meet you at about eight in the afternoon so we could head to Riften, but the rest of us went on one of our little adventures that was supposed to last like half an hour and instead ended up lasting hours.”
Alva: “Oh, don’t worry about it, Jon. I know how these adventures of ours can be. Time seems to slip away when we’re out there facing danger and seeking treasure.”
Jenassa: “Indeed, we encountered quite a few challenges along the way. But we’re here now, and ready to move forward with our plan.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, no sense dwelling on the past. We’ve got a letter to deliver.”
Jon: “Alva, you would have loved this one. It was an ancient Nord barrow, proper archeological wonder. We faced many more draugr than in Bleak Falls. Some of the draugr sparkled with imbued lightning powers, which they shot at us.”
Alva: “Oh, that sounds absolutely thrilling, Jon! I do love a good adventure in an ancient ruin.”
Jon: “Alva, of course, even though you weren’t there, you’ll get your share of the loot. And we got plenty. Check this out: gold bullion, weighing twenty-six pounds! Twenty-six pounds of nearly pure gold. I’d say that’s going to get us our house for sure.”
Alva: “Oh, Jon, you’re too kind. But I couldn’t possibly take a share of loot that I didn’t help in acquiring.”
Uthgerd: “Nonsense, Alva. We’re a team, and we share in both the risks and the rewards.”
Jenassa: “Indeed, your presence would have been invaluable in that barrow. You deserve a share, just like the rest of us.”

Alva: “Well, if you all insist. I suppose I could use my share to help furnish our new base of operations.”
Jon: “After all, it was my fault that you weren’t there. It must have been about seven in the evening when we decided to head into that barrow. I could have just returned to the inn and waited around until dusk. But we didn’t want to bother you, I guess, for what we thought was a half an hour thing.”
Alva: “Oh, don’t be too hard on yourself, Jon. These things happen when you’re an adventurer. Plans change, and you have to adapt.”

Few things beat the mood you’re in once you return to the nearest inn after an adventure that could have killed you. I sat at the bar and ordered a Black-Briar mead.

Jon: “Boy, Wilhelm, do I have a story to tell if you’re willing to listen at four in the morning.”
Wilhelm: “At this hour? Must be quite the tale.”
Jon: “It is indeed. You gave us the claw that was supposed to clear a puzzle door. Well, the door did open, and my band of adventurers, called Frostpeak Stalkers, we were able to delve deeper into the ruin. I must say, you lot have no clue about the archeological wonder hiding under your feet.”

It seems that few people slept in this town, because the local bard Lynly, as well as a woman in her forties with tousled hair whom I hadn’t noticed before, joined our conversation.

Temba Wide-Arm: “What are you talking about? Are you saying there’s some sort of treasure in that old barrow?”
Lynly Star-Sung: “Oh, how exciting! I’ve always wondered what secrets that place held.”
Wilhelm: “So, you’re saying that old ruin is more than just a haunted tomb? I knew there had to be more to it than just ghost stories. But what exactly did you find?”
Jon: “Well, me and my team killed like thirty raised skeletons. We killed like thirty or forty draugr. You know, undead ancient Nords. Some of those draugr were actually imbued with lightning powers, and they kept shooting such spells at us. Let me tell you, those were hard to kill.”
Temba Wide-Arm: “By Shor, that sounds terrifying! You’re lucky to be alive.”
Lynly Star-Sung: “Lightning spells? Oh, I’d have been scared out of my wits! You’re so brave.”
Wilhelm: “Sounds like you had quite the adventure. But I hope you’re not bringing any of that trouble back here with you. Ivarstead’s a peaceful town, and we’d like to keep it that way.”
Jon: “Sir, please, you offend me with those implications! My team, that you may remember is called Frostpeak Stalkers, delved into the cursed depths of those ruins to eliminate the undead menace that might have otherwise escaped the barrow and overrun this town.”
Wilhelm: “Easy there, friend. I meant no offense. It’s just… well, we’ve heard our share of troubling rumors about that place for years now. It’s hard to know what to believe.”
Lynly Star-Sung: “Oh, I’m sure Jon and his friends had only the best intentions! We should be grateful they’ve made the barrow safer for us all.”
Jon: “Hey listen, maybe you should contact someone at the Archaeological Society in Solitude. One of those scholars could come down here to inspect the site. They’ll ascertain that it’s now safe. I’m talking lots of real estate down there, several levels. You could set up houses or shops.”
Wilhelm: “Now hold on just a moment. Are you suggesting we turn that ancient burial site into some sort of… shopping district? I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
Temba Wide-Arm: “I have to agree with Wilhelm. That barrow is a sacred place, even if it is a bit spooky. Turning it into a marketplace seems… disrespectful.”
Lynly Star-Sung: “Oh, I don’t know. It could bring in some extra business for the town, maybe even attract more tourists or pilgrims on their way to High Hrothgar.”
Jon: “You know what’s disrespectful? My team, the Frostpeak Stalkers, explored that barrow out of the kindness of our hearts. Engaging our energies and strengths, we approached the ancient Nords that dwelled there, only for them to leap from their sleeping places and try to murder us. We did nothing to them. We merely looked at them, at the most. Sometimes we even greeted them, but they still tried to kill us. Does that seem fair?”
Wilhelm: “Well, when you put it that way, I suppose not.”
Lynly Star-Sung: “They sound like terrible hosts! Attacking guests like that.”
Temba Wide-Arm: “Sounds like those draugr had it coming, if you ask me. Ancient Nords or not, they had no right to attack you like that. How dare they?”
Jon: “That’s right, we were guests in their dwelling. We had entered the premises respectfully, were careful about not breaking anything, but those draugr didn’t even ask for our purpose.”
Wilhelm: “It does seem rather unreasonable of them.”
Lynly Star-Sung: “It’s almost as if they didn’t want anyone disturbing their eternal rest. But still, trying to kill you on sight? That’s a bit much.”
Temba Wide-Arm: “Exactly! And now, thanks to you and your friends, we don’t have to worry about them causing any more trouble.”
Jon: “Listen, that nonsense about eternal rest… If you’ve been dead for thousands of years, wouldn’t you welcome a traveler going out of his way to come to your house and offer you news about the world? Why would you attack such a person on sight?”
Lynly Star-Sung: “Maybe they were just grumpy from being woken up after so long. Some people need their beauty sleep, you know… Hah! Beauty sleep. That’s a good one, Lynly.”
Jon: “And listen… When I die, if I end up interred in a huge burial complex, which is likely to happen because by that time I will have become so famous that people will build a whole pyramid for me, I will probably be the final boss. Well, let me tell you, when I resurrect, I better be surrounded by beautiful women that have come to brighten my undead life. I’m going to be one of those restless draugr, with endless energy, if you know what I mean.”
Temba Wide-Arm: “Oh, you’re terrible! But I suppose there are worse ways to spend eternity.”
Wilhelm: “Careful what you wish for, Jon. You might just get it.”
Temba Wide-Arm: “Hah! I’ll drink to that. Here’s to an afterlife full of beautiful women and endless energy!”
Jon: “Hey, Lynly, for a moment you looked like you doubted my energy and, let’s say, restlessness when it comes to beautiful women.”
Lynly Star-Sung: “Oh, no, not at all! I’m sure you have plenty of energy for… well, for whatever it is you plan to do in the afterlife. I was just thinking, you know, it might get a bit lonely after a while, even with all those beautiful women.”
Temba Wide-Arm: “Lonely? Surrounded by beautiful women? I think Jon here might be just fine with that.”
Jon: “You know, I don’t want to wait until I’m dead to be surrounded by beautiful women. In fact, right now a single beatiful woman would do. Like you, Lynly.”
Lynly Star-Sung: “Oh, well, that’s very sweet of you to say, Jon. I’m flattered, truly. But, well, you know, I’m just a simple bard, and you’re a brave adventurer with a bright future ahead of him.”
Temba Wide-Arm: “Don’t sell yourself short, Lynly! You’re a catch, and any man would be lucky to have you.”
Lynly Star-Sung: “That’s kind of you to say, Temba. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. Jon, your offer is very tempting, but I’ll have to think it over.”
Jon: “Me and my team are leaving tomorrow night, so you have some hours to think it over. I would love to be surrounded by you or to surround you myself, if you get me.”
Lynly Star-Sung: “Oh my… Well, I’ll definitely keep that in mind, Jon.”
Temba Wide-Arm: “Ha! You’d better be careful, Lynly. This one’s a charmer.”
Lynly Star-Sung: “I’ll say! But like I told you, Jon, I’ll think on it and let you know before you leave tomorrow. Just don’t get yourself into too much trouble between now and then, alright?”

• Previous part (22)
• Next part (24)

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.”

• Previous part (21)
• Next part (23)

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 team of fierce women, headed east toward Riften, following the directions of an idiotic Argonian who had written a nasty letter to the Black-Briar family. Before reaching their destination, they stopped at Helgen, a cold town in the mountains. My character gathered his team to finally name their band of adventurers. After a few retarded suggestions, they settled on a powerful name: Frostpeak Stalkers.

Jon: “My plan for this daytime outing is to scout the road ahead, so that when our entire band, now called Frostpeak Stalkers, braves the road at night, we’ll know what we’re dealing with.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, that sounds like a plan. We need to know what we’re up against before we go charging in blindly.”
Ria: “Agreed. Scouting ahead is always a smart move. We can’t afford to be caught off guard.”
Jenassa: “Wise decision. I can help with the scouting if you’d like. My skills in stealth can be useful in identifying potential threats without being seen.”

While exploring an area near the main road, from which an ambush could come, we came across an eroded boulder the size of a farmhouse.

Jon: “Hey, a sign calls this place Orphan Rock. Does this mean anything to you?”
Uthgerd: “Can’t say it does, Jon. But I’ve heard tales of old Nordic ruins scattered about these parts.”
Ria: “Aye, this could be one of them. We should keep our eyes peeled for any signs of danger.”
Jenassa: “Might be worth investigating further. If there’s something of value here, we should find out.”
Uthgerd: “Right, but let’s not get too distracted from our main goal. We’re here to scout the road, remember?”

We followed the path that continued in perpendicular to the main road, and we found ourselves before a ruin with similar architecture to the ancient temple we had recently cleared out.

Jon: “Oh my, that reminds me of Bleak Falls Barrow. Are you in for a little daytime excursion into an ancient ruin?”
Uthgerd: “Ha! You know I’m always ready for a good fight. Count me in.”
Ria: “If it’s anything like Bleak Falls Barrow, then we could be in for a lot of danger. I say we go for it.”
Jenassa: “Agreed. Let’s see what treasures this ancient ruin holds.”

When we looked into the first room of the ruin, we saw three dead bandits lying on the floor as if they had just fallen dead. In the corner of the room, an old, bearded man was sitting on a chair, drinking casually.

Jon: “That old man looks like a mage. How do we approach this situation?”
Uthgerd: “Carefully, that’s for sure. This smells like a trap.”
Ria: “Aye, we should keep our guard up. There might be more bandits lurking about.”

I greeted the old man in a congenial manner.

Jon: “Excuse me, sir. We are a band of adventurers named Frostpeak… what was it? Frostpeak Stalkers. Yeah, we’re the Frostpeak Stalkers, a proud band of adventurers, and we’ve come to figure out what was going on with this ancient ruin, only to find three dead bandits on the floor, and you, an old man, very much alive. So, what’s the deal?”

The old man stood up.

Zarlak: “Hmm? I suppose you’re here to pilfer my wares, eh? Not that it matters much to me now.”
Uthgerd: “We’re not here to rob you, old man. We’re adventurers, the Frostpeak Stalkers. We’re investigating this ancient ruin.”
Ria: “Aye, we found three dead bandits and you here.”
Jon: “So, were you camping here and these bandits tried to kill you?”
Zarlak: “Heh, not quite. I killed them, boy.”
Uthgerd: “You killed all three of them yourself?”
Ria: “Well, that’s certainly impressive. What happened here?”
Jenassa: “Yes, we would love to hear your story if you wish to share.”
Jon: “We ventured out in this chilly morning that has developed into a proper snowstorm, intending to scout the road ahead because we’re going to travel further at night, and suddenly we found you. Most interesting situation we’ve come across today. So please, by all means, tell us your story.”
Zarlak: “Well, if you insist. Sit down and let me regale you with a tale. The story begins a few days ago. You see, I am a traveling merchant, and I was on my way to Markarth to sell some goods. But fate had other plans for me.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, like getting caught in a snowstorm?”
Zarlak: “Hah! More than that, my dear. I got lost in this cursed storm and stumbled upon this place.”
Jon: “Thankfully, these ancient structures, bless their builders, still provide very good shelter. I don’t think we would be able to replicate this stonework in the present day.”
Zarlak: “Indeed, the ancient Nords knew how to build to withstand the test of time.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, their craftsmanship was unrivaled.”
Ria: “But what about the bandits? What happened with them?”
Zarlak: “Ah, yes, the bandits. Gave me quite a scare, they did.”
Jon: “So, were they a random group of bandits who believed you were a defenceless old man?”
Zarlak: “That’s right, my boy. They thought me an easy target, but they sorely underestimated me.”
Uthgerd: “I can imagine! You must have shown them the strength of a true Nord.”
Ria: “I’m curious, Zarlak, how did you manage to fend off all three of them?”
Zarlak: “Ah, well, that’s an interesting story…”
Jon: “Are you a mage by any chance? Certainly your robes suggest it. I’m interested because I’m a mage myself.”
Zarlak: “Ah, a fellow practitioner of the arcane arts, I see! Yes, indeed, I am. These bandits thought they could catch me off guard, but they were mistaken.”
Uthgerd: “Magic can give you a nasty surprise!”
Ria: “I’ve seen what a skilled mage can do; I’m not surprised you took them down.”
Jon: “Of course. Never underestimate us mages. We can produce terrible forces from the palms of our hands.”
Zarlak: “Hah, indeed, we can! That’s why I always say that knowledge is power, my young friend.”

Uthgerd: “Aye, and power is what we need in a fight.”
Ria: “I’d never let my guard down around any foe, mage or otherwise.”
Jenassa: “Wisdom to live by. Underestimating one’s enemies often leads to a quick demise.”
Jon: “Anyway, I suppose that’s the length and extent of your story. You were traveling, you had to take shelter from a snowstorm, and these three hapless bandits that are now lying dead and looted of their valuables thought that they could take you on, only to discover the might of a mage.”
Zarlak: “More or less, young one. It’s not the most exciting tale, I admit, but it’s a testament to the surprises life can throw at you.”
Uthgerd: “True, you never know when a bandit might jump out at you.”
Ria: “Or a dragon, for that matter. But I’m just glad we found you. It could’ve been much worse.”
Jenassa: “Life’s full of surprises, some more deadly than others.”
Jon: “Well, we do not intend to bother you anymore. Our adventurer’s band, Frostpeak Stalkers, must continue on its way. We’re going to scout the surroundings and then return to base to gather our remaining team member. At night, we’ll be heading to Rorikstead. Good luck with your things, and… be happy, I guess.”
Zarlak: “May your journeys be safe and fruitful. Rorikstead is a good place to head towards. I’ve found that the folk of Rorikstead greatly appreciate travelers such as yourself who are willing to lend a helping hand. If you have a healer with you on your travels, perhaps they could help those in need there as well. Good luck to you, Frostpeak Stalkers. May the gods watch over you.”
Uthgerd: “Thank you. We’ll be sure to keep our eyes open for anyone who needs our help.”

We left that pleasant old man behind to continue into the next room of the ruin, only to find ourselves exiting the structure on the other side. That was it, I guess. However, we stood on a jutting balcony that offered an amazing view of the mountains. After we got tired of it, I checked out the perimeter of the structure, and located a door into its base.

Jon: “Well, turns out that there is an entrance to this ruin. It’s already six in the afternoon. Are you still in for a little delve into ancient ruins?”
Uthgerd: “Aye, I’m always ready for a fight. These ruins won’t know what hit them.”
Ria: “Absolutely! There’s no better way to end the day than with a good battle. Let’s see what’s lurking in there.”
Jenassa: “I’m prepared to follow, but remember, I don’t enter caves or ruins for cheap. You’re already getting a good deal, Jon.”

We had barely closed the door when we were assaulted by three bandits that were hanging out near the entrance. Nothing we couldn’t handle.

Jon: “That was one violent greeting. These bastards are everywhere. They must have taken over this ancient ruin as well.”
Uthgerd: “Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us. Let’s show these bandits what the Frostpeak Stalkers are made of!”
Ria: “Aye, I’ve been itching for a good fight. Let’s make this quick and clean.”

In one of the bandits I found a spell tome for something called Backlash, that allows a mage to interrupt another mage’s spells, and if interrupted successfully, the enemy mage will eat up his own offensive spell.

Jon: “Very interesting magic. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
Uthgerd: “Huh, fancy magic. I prefer my greataxe, but if it helps you take down enemy mages quicker, I’m all for it.”
Ria: “That sounds powerful, Jon. It could give us a real edge in battle.”
Jenassa: “I don’t care much for magic, but I can appreciate anything that gives us an advantage. Just don’t expect me to start wielding spells anytime soon.”

A door opened to the sight of white cobwebs, and clusters of huge, bulging egg sacs.

Jon: “This is something I wish I didn’t have to say, but I hope you like spiders, because that is a lot of spider egg sacs.”
Uthgerd: “By Ysmir, I hate spiders. This is going to be messy.”
Jenassa: “Spiders are no match for steel and shadow. We’ll handle them quickly.”

Turns out that the bandits had already killed the couple of huge spiders present, as their corpses attested. While we were descending a flight of stairs, about five other bandits charged against us. I bolstered my warriors with a healing spell and shot poison bolts at a bandit archer located further down the corridor. At one point I saw Uthgerd on her knees, a rare sight. I took down her assailant with further poison bolts.

Jon: “That was a tough battle. I was scared to see you on your knees after that bandit hit you in the side.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! It’ll take more than a glancing blow to keep me down, lad.”
Jenassa: “We all have our weak moments. The key is to not let them define us.”
Ria: “Aye, we’re all in this together. No one fights alone.”
Uthgerd: “Damn right. Now let’s keep moving before some eight-legged bastard shows up.”
Jon: “Oh my goodness, another interesting spell book. Mind Vision. It allows the caster to see through the eyes of the target creature or humanoid for eleven seconds. This will be wonderful for scouting ahead.”
Jenassa: “That could be incredibly useful for reconnaissance. Just be careful not to get caught in your own spell.”
Uthgerd: “Handy, but I prefer seeing through the eyes of my enemies the old-fashioned way: by knocking their heads off their shoulders.”
Jon: “Uthgerd, never change.”
Uthgerd: “And why should I? My ways have kept me alive this long.”
Ria: “Aye, as long as we work together, our differences only make us stronger.”
Uthgerd: “Well said, lass. Now let’s keep moving and clear out this nest of spiders. Time’s a-wasting.”

A conspicuous chest stood on the side of the stairs. I should have suspected that it was trapped, but thankfully, I opened it from the side, and the poisoned darts shot out toward the front. They ricocheted harmlessly against the opposite wall.

Jon: “Ladies, inside this chest there was a rough garnet, which would have been good enough, but check this out: a triple diamond gold elven diadem worth 1500 septims.”
Jenassa: “That’s quite the find, Jon. We should be careful though: chests like that might be trapped.”
Jon: “You’re right about that.”
Uthgerd: “1500 septims for a circlet? Damn, that’s enough to feed a family for a year. Let’s get it appraised when we get back to town.”
Ria: “I’ve never seen anything that valuable before. We’re lucky to have found it, but we need to stay alert. Good job, Jon.”
Jon: “Always eager to please, Ria. This diadem will help us fund our dream of buying a house that will become the base of operations of our beloved Frostpeak Stalkers. So look forward to that.”
Uthgerd: “A house for the Frostpeak Stalkers, huh? We’ll need a place to store all our loot and plan our next adventures.”
Jenassa: “As long as we keep getting paid, I’m fine with whatever you all decide. A house could be useful.”
Jon: “Well, I can already imagine it. I’ll wake up in the Frostpeak Stalkers’ home base and see Uthgerd eating breakfast at the table, Ria in her underwear heading to the shower, and Jenassa… I’m not sure, sharpening her weapons perhaps. I don’t know what you do in the morning, Jenassa.”
Jenassa: “Sharpening my weapons, most likely. Someone has to keep them in good condition.”
Ria: “In my underwear, Jon? I’m flattered, but let’s keep it polite.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! I can just picture it. We’d make quite the household. But keep your fantasies to yourself, Jon.”
Ria: “Uthgerd is right. Our home base should be a place of respect.”
Jon: “I’m afraid, my dear Ria, that you cannot stop the power of my imagination.”
Ria: “Jon, your imagination might be vivid, but I’d really prefer if you kept it to yourself. We’re comrades, not objects of fantasy.”
Uthgerd: “You should listen to Ria, Jon. There’s a time for jokes, but you’re pushing it. Just focus on the task at hand, alright?”

As we bantered, we hacked and burned through a few cave rats.

Jenassa: “If you spent as much energy on fighting as you do on dreaming, we might actually get somewhere.”
Jon: “You’re right, you’re right. Oh, new door up ahead. Let’s move on to the next segment of this ancient ruin.”
Uthgerd: “Good. We need to stay focused if we’re going to clear this place out. Enough about the future; let’s handle the present.”
Ria: “Stay sharp, everyone. There’s no telling what’s behind that door.”

Turns out that the door led to the outside. We found ourselves on a narrowish path that bordered a cliff. I could make out the ruins of Bleak Falls Barrow stuck on a distant mountainside like ribs.

Further along the path, I spotted a wisp: a glowing ball of icy energy that left a whitish trail. It attacked us, but we dispatched it immediately. As we continued down the path, something materialized behind a boulder, very close to the four of us: a wispmother. They are female-shaped vortices of cold energies that get pissed off when you kill any wisp. Far more dangerous than we could handle at our level. Before I knew it, the wispmother was slinging icicles at my companions. Ria went down first, knocked unconscious. Although I tried to heal Jenassa and Uthgerd, they fell a few seconds later. I found myself retreating from the wispmother to a distance at which I may be able to dodge its icicles, and I repeated a cycle of shooting elemental bombs at the spirit, then hiding from its sight until my magicka replenished. I got hit by an icicle once, and it nearly killed me. I emptied the single thousand-septims-worth ambrosia bottle to heal and refill my magicka immediately. After what seemed like five minutes, the wispmother exploded. I ran to heal my companions.

They didn’t realize the extent of what had happened. Ria thought she had been assaulted by a frost troll. When they understood that they had nearly died, Jenassa chastised me for having put her in such danger.

Jon: “I’m sorry, Jenassa. I suppose you do have to see it that way: that your employer got careless and nearly had you killed.”
Jenassa: “It’s not about being callous, Jon. It’s my job to keep you alive. But I do prefer doing my job while I’m still breathing.”
Uthgerd: “We all share the blame, anyway. It’s not on you, Jon.”
Ria: “Yeah, Jon, don’t beat yourself up about it. We’re all in this together. But let’s try to be more careful, alright?”
Jon: “The issue here is that you three were unconscious for what seemed like five minutes. That’s what it took me to defeat that wispmother. You have no idea how close it came to the four of us ending. I need to clear my head.”
Ria: “By the gods, Jon… We’re grateful for your efforts, truly. Let’s all be more cautious from now on.”
Jenassa: “Indeed. We can’t afford to lose each other, not after all we’ve been through.”
Uthgerd: “You saved our lives, and we won’t forget that. But let’s put that behind us and focus on the road ahead.”

The lights of Helgen, further down the road, shone through the snow.

Jon: “In the end, we barely did any scouting ahead, but we did plenty of nearly dying.”
Ria: “That’s putting it mildly. Next time, let’s make sure we’re better prepared.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, we were caught off guard. I won’t let that happen again.”
Jenassa: “Let’s keep moving, then. Alva is waiting, and we’ve got a long road ahead of us to Rorikstead. We burned a lot of daylight in that fight.”
Jon: “Actually, Jenassa, I have to thank you. Remember that fight at the entrance of Bleak Falls Barrow, when I ran out of magicka and potions? Well, this time I stocked up on potions and kept chugging them to fight this wispmother. I think that’s a huge part of what kept me alive, and it was because you, Jenassa, suggested that I should buy more potions.”
Jenassa: “You’ve always had a knack for magic, Jon. And I’m just glad the potions helped. You did well to keep us alive. That fight was… something else.”
Ria: “We all contributed, even if some of us were unconscious for parts of it. Let’s keep each other alive out there.”

Back at the safety of the inn, we found Alva sitting on a chair in one of the empty rooms, looking bored.

Jon: “Hey, Alva. We’re back from, I suppose, trying to scout ahead. I’m sorry we’re late, but we nearly died. I’m glad to see you again.”
Alva: “I’m glad to see you too, Jon. You had me worried when you were gone so long. But you’re here now, and that’s what matters.”
Ria: “We had a close call out there, Alva. Jon saved our lives.”
Uthgerd: “It was a tough fight, but we pulled through.”
Jon: “No need to mention it. I would have absolutely hated to lose any of you.”
Ria: “We know you would, Jon. That’s why we stick together.”
Jenassa: “Indeed. We are stronger together, and we’ve proven that time and time again.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, we may be a mismatched bunch, but we’re a damned good team.”

We followed the road heading east, that at the end of The Rift, that hold’s name, ended in the shady city of Riften.

Jon: “Well, let’s finally head to Rorikstead, like that scaly idiot told us, to convince a courier to give us a letter, something that shouldn’t involve dying.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! Perhaps we’ll uncover some juicy secrets… or at least get a good meal out of it.”
Ria: “Stick together, and we’ll be fine. Just don’t let Jon here wander off to chat up any milkmaids!”
Jon: “Oh Ria, you saw me chatting up Narri, right? That barmaid in Falkreath. I can’t resist redheads.”

A fallen tree blocked half the road, and in front of it lay a wagon. Its owners, a couple of Khajiit merchants, had been slaughtered. Bandits ambushed us from the trees. The terrain worked against them; I was able to block some arrows by hiding behind trees, only to sprint at the archers while they were nocking a new arrow.

Alva: “Well, that was intense. But we pulled through, just like always.”
Jon: “A proper, classical ambush. The bastards nearly achieved something, but in the end they all lie dead.”
Ria: “That was quite a fight! Glad we managed to make it out alive. Though those bandits really did put up more of a fight than I had anticipated.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, they were tougher than the usual rabble we deal with. We’ve got to stay on our toes out here.”
Jenassa: “It seems like there are more and more of these highwaymen as we travel further from the main roads.”

The snowstorm was worsening by the minute.

Jon: “We have to hurry.”
Alva: “Aye, the sooner we reach Rorikstead, the better. This snow is only getting thicker.”
Ria: “We need to stick close to each other, don’t want anyone getting lost in this storm!”
Uthgerd: “Look out for any signs of a town or some kind of shelter along the way. It might come in handy if things take a turn for the worse.”

I was losing heat quickly, and it felt like we were shrouded in white.

Jon: “This is real bad, my friends. I cannot see further than five feet ahead.”
Ria: “By the gods, this storm is terrible! We need to find shelter soon, or we’ll freeze to death out here.”
Jenassa: “Keep your wits about you. We’re more vulnerable than ever in this storm. Eyes peeled for any threats.”
Alva: “Let’s just focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Complaining won’t get us to Rorikstead any faster.”

The road kept bending, and we had to backtrack a couple of times, but at least, even though it still snowed bad, the snowstorm seemed to be easing.

Jon: “For the record, that was the worst snowstorm I have ever been in.”
Ria: “Let’s just hope there isn’t another one of those storms waiting for us further ahead.”
Alva: “One can only hope. But we should prepare for the worst, just in case.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, better to be ready for anything in this gods-forsaken land.”
Jon: “Are you all resisting the cold alright?”
Uthgerd: “I’m managing, but it’s not easy in this damned cold.”
Alva: “I’m alright, but we should keep moving for you all to stay warm.”
Ria: “Agreed, the sooner we find shelter, the better.”
Uthgerd: “Still, you worry too much, elf. We’re Nords, we’ll be fine… but let’s keep moving anyway.”
Jon: “Uthgerd, your teeth are chattering. Do you want a Frost Resist potion?”
Uthgerd: “No, thanks. I don’t need any damn potion. I just need a fire, some meat, and a place to rest.”

We got ambushed by a couple of necromancers. We could only tell they were there because their spells glimmered through the snow. They were merely an annoyance. At least they allowed us to warm up a bit.

Snow was one thing, and this cold another.

Jon: “I’m sorry, ladies, but I’m afraid that I, as a High Elf, am not used to this, to these temperatures. If we continue the way things are going, I’ll freeze to death.”
Uthgerd: “Quit your whining, elf. You think we’re any more used to this cold? We’re all in this together.”
Ria: “We just need to keep moving, Jon. It’s the only way to stay warm.”
Uthgerd: “Exactly. So quit your bellyaching and let’s get moving.”
Jon: “Oh, well. When we finally reach an inn, I hope someone massages my limbs.”
Alva: “Well, if you survive, I’m sure someone can help you with that.”
Ria: “One step at a time, Jon. Let’s focus on staying alive first.”
Uthgerd: “By Ysmir, you’re such a baby. But if you make it through this, I suppose I could help with that… if you ask nicely.”

• Previous part (20)
• Next part (22)

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, flirted with a barmaid, unloaded his junk on an unsuspecting shopkeeper, flirted with a steward, threatened an Argonian, and suggested he might be a serial killer.

After I got back with Alva on a wagon, our whole band gathered at Falkreath’s inn. We were chilling, updating Alva regarding our recent adventures, when I noticed a Thalmor agent, a sole woman, haughtily throwing glances our way. I was itching for a fight or a little murder, so I confronted her. She claimed that she was curious about our band of adventurers and our intentions in the area. I told her to mind her own business.

Jon: “Listen, none of us like the Thalmor. You and I, we’re both High Elves, but I cannot abide by a political system that seeks to eliminate beautiful races like Utgherd’s here. Look at her, the beauty of a strong Nord woman. And people like you are trying to destroy it. That is something I cannot forgive.”
Jerulith: “You misunderstand the Thalmor’s intentions.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, we understand perfectly.”
Alva: “Miss, surely you can see the beauty and value in the diversity of the races of Tamriel.”
Jerulith: “It’s not about elimination. It’s about order. The Thalmor seek to bring stability to a chaotic world.”
Jenassa: “There’s a difference between order and oppression.”
Jon: “As a member of your race, yeah, we are superior in plenty of things. We are more attuned to magic than any other. But if you lot end up on top opressing everybody else, you’re buying into a future of constant anxiety and fear that every other race is going to band together against you. Is that truly how you want us Altmer to live?”
Jerulith: “It’s not about living in fear. It’s about ensuring our survival and the proper order of things.”
Uthgerd: “The proper order? Please. Your order is nothing more than bigotry and arrogance.”
Alva: “Uthgerd is right. What you call order is just oppression and tyranny.”
Jenassa: “Not all of us want to live in your proper order, Thalmor. The world is more complex than your narrow view.”
Jon: “Anyway… Now that our beautiful Alva has joined us again, how about we set off on the road to Rorikstead, where that courier whom we’re supposed to threaten was headed?”
Alva: “You’re right, Jon. We shouldn’t waste any more time here.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, let’s get moving. I’m itching for a fight.”
Jenassa: “I’m ready. The road to Riften is long, and could be dangerous.”

Torches in hand, Falkreath receded behind us, and we found ourselves surrounded by dense forest. Falkreath was notorious for having the densest forests in Skyrim.

Jon: “Oh, how wonderful! Another night-time outing with my girls.”
Uthgerd: “You make it sound like we’re going on a picnic, not hunting a courier and whatever’s in that letter.”
Jenassa: “It’s nice to travel by night for a change. Fewer prying eyes.”
Ria: “Let’s try to have some fun on this journey, yes?”

A sudden scream startled me. It seemed to come from the sky, and grew increasingly in volume. A body splattered against the ground. It was a guy, now very much dead.

Jon: “What the hell happened? This guy just fell from the sky. He was using some sort of device. Let’s see what the journal he had on him says… ‘I finally finished the paraglider. I didn’t have enough twine that the instructions call for, but this seems sturdy enough that I’m sure it will last… Being able to glide through the air like a hawk is such an amazing feeling.'”
Uthgerd: “Well, looks like his amazing feeling was short-lived.”
Jenassa: “What a strange way to die.”
Alva: “I’m more concerned about who he was and why he was flying in the first place.”
Ria: “This world never ceases to surprise me.”
Jon: “Well, I’m moving this poor bastard’s corpse out of the way, so it doesn’t block the middle of the road. I hope that someone more charitable than us comes along and buries him.”
Uthgerd: “Agreed, let’s get him off the road at least.”
Jenassa: “His death may have been his own fault, but no one deserves to be left like this.”
Ria: “He was probably an adventurer like us. I hope he didn’t die for nothing.”

Some time later, I spotted a makeshift bridge that crossed the road. From its top, two bandit archers shot at the local wildlife. I prompted the team to gather behind a thick tree.

Jon: “Ladies, we have a problem. You see that bridge up ahead? Well, bandit archers are posted on top of it.”
Uthgerd: “Bandit archers, you say? So, we’ll need to take them out quickly before they spot us.”
Ria: “I agree. We should use a ranged attack to deal with them. Jenassa, your bow might come in handy here.”
Jenassa: “Consider it done. I’ll position myself in the shadows and take them out before they even know what hit them.”
Jon: “Meanwhile, I’m going to surround this rocky formation to flank the bandits. It’s going to be a careful operation.”
Uthgerd: “Careful is good. But let’s not forget the heart of a true warrior. They will taste our steel if they choose to stand against us.”
Alva: “And if they run, I’ll give chase. No one escapes the night.”

Those two bandit archers barely saw us coming. I ended one of them with a long spray of poison.

Jon: “It seems I worried for nothing. It was just a couple of bandit archers tending to a bridge, and they both fell easily.”
Uthgerd: “Hah! I told you we’d make short work of them. You worry too much, Jon.”
Ria: “But caution isn’t a bad thing. Better to be prepared for a tough fight and find an easy one, than the other way around.”
Jenassa: “Perhaps next time we’ll find foes more worthy of our blades. Or more gold in their pockets, at least.”

The road was following an increasingly steeper slope.

Jon: “Oh, wind’s picking up. I hope we don’t end up trudging through a storm like we’ve done recently in the Whiterun hold.”

We were cutting through the snowy mountains.

Jon: “I guess we should have looked at a map before heading in this direction. It leads us through a mountain pass. We’ll freeze our asses off.”

A fort blocked the road. Its undefended gate opened to a small community of wood and stone buildings.

Jon: “Well, ladies, I don’t think we’re going to reach Rorikstead before sunrise. Maybe we should rent rooms here for the night.”
Uthgerd: “I suppose it’s better than being out in the open with bandits on the loose. What do you think, Alva?”
Alva: “Helgen. I’ve heard stories about this place… It’s not the most welcoming of communities. But given the circumstances, I agree with Jon. It’s better to have a roof over our heads tonight.”
Jon: “It’s not like we’re going to live here. If you don’t want, you don’t have to interact with any of the locals. I’ll do the yapping.”
Jenassa: “You’re right, Jon. We don’t have to mingle with the locals if we don’t want to. As long as we have a place to rest and plan our next move, that’s all that matters.”
Uthgerd: “Agreed. Let’s just keep to ourselves and avoid any unnecessary trouble.”

The inn was eerily deserted. Its innkeeper wiped the counter as if she expected clientele any day now.

Jon: “Yikes. Sorry to say, but this place is pretty much dead. I don’t think I have ever seen an inn this devoid of clients.”
Matlara: “You’re right. It’s a bit eerie, isn’t it? But I suppose it’s to be expected in a place like Helgen.”
Uthgerd: “I’ve seen worse places, trust me. As long as there’s a roof over our heads and a bed to sleep in, I’m not complaining.”
Alva: “True. And maybe the lack of clients will work in our favor. We won’t have to worry about any unwanted attention.”
Jon: “Hey, do you have any free rooms available for us, a band of adventurers?”
Matlara: “Of course. Will you be needing anything else, or just the rooms for the night?”
Ria: “Just the rooms for now, thank you. We appreciate you accommodating us on such short notice.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, we’ve had a long journey and could use a good night’s rest.”
Jon: “How are things going in town?”
Matlara: “Well, to be honest, things have been quite difficult lately. Ever since the dragon attack, the town has struggled to recover. Trade has slowed down, and many people have left in search of better prospects elsewhere.”
Uthgerd: “Dragon attack? That sounds horrific. No wonder the town seems so quiet.”
Alva: “I can only imagine the devastation a dragon could cause to a small community like this.”
Jon: “A dragon attack so close to places we’ve been in. I’m surprised that most buildings are left standing. I would have expected devastation.”
Jenassa: “It’s surprising, but it seems like the buildings were sturdily built. They probably withstood the attack better than the people did.”
Uthgerd: “Still, it’s a shame to see a town so empty. It must be hard for the few who remain.”
Matlara: “It is, but we’re doing our best to keep things going.”
Jon: “Well, I hope that our coins contribute to revitalize this place.”
Matlara: “Thank you. Every little bit helps, and we’re grateful for your patronage. I hope you and your companions find our accommodations satisfactory.”
Alva: “I’m sure we will. And who knows, maybe we’ll even find a way to help the town while we’re here.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, if there’s anything we can do, let us know. We’re no strangers to lending a helping hand where it’s needed.”

The team separated to do our own thing. At one point, I noticed Jenassa sitting at a table, eating dinner. I chose to bother her.

Jon: “Hey, Jenassa, how are you enjoying our adventures so far?”
Jenassa: “You’ve led us well, Jon. But don’t think for a moment that I’ve gone soft. I’m still the deadly blade at your side, ready for whatever comes next.”
Jon: “I do not intend for you to go soft, but I do wish for you to have fun. Not everything has to be so tense and, you know, so life-and-death. I hope to see you smile and laugh heartily from time to time.”
Jenassa: “You’re an odd one, Jon. Most who hire me care only for the sharpness of my blade, not the curve of my smile. But I suppose there’s no harm in enjoying myself.”

Unfortunately, I didn’t know what else to bring up. Jenassa wasn’t precisely forthcoming about her private life.

Jon: “Well, it’s been nice talking to you, Jenassa. I hope you have a good night’s sleep.”
Jenassa: “A good night’s sleep? In this line of work? I’ll rest when the job is done.”
Jon: “You better get at least one or two hours of sleep! I’m pretty sure you can go insane if you don’t sleep at all.”
Jenassa: “You worry too much, Jon. I’ve gone days without sleep before. But perhaps a few hours wouldn’t hurt.”
Jon: “You know, one of us will stand guard at a time. We are, after all, a party of five people. You’re one of them, an extremely lethal one, but… My point is, you can rely on us.”
Jenassa: “I don’t doubt your abilities, Jon. Or the rest of our companions. But I’ve learned to rely on myself first and foremost.”

I bumped into Uthgerd on the way to the lavatory.

Jon: “Hey, Uthgerd. Have you been enjoying yourself lately?”
Uthgerd: “The blood of our enemies stains our blades, and their gold lines our pockets. Can’t ask for much more than that, can I? Though, I have to say, the company’s not half bad either. There’s something to be said for fighting alongside folk you can trust to watch your back.”
Jon: “If I may ask… Do you have any favorites among the companions that have watched your broad back on our adventures?”
Uthgerd: “Favorites, huh? I suppose there’s a few I’ve grown fond of. That Jenassa’s a quiet one, but she’s got a fire in her you don’t often see. Alva… well, she’s a vampire, but she’s never shied away from a fight. Ria’s young, but she’s learning fast.”
Jon: “No mention of me, huh?”
Uthgerd: “You’re something else entirely. Fighting beside you is… it’s like standing in the eye of a storm. You’re chaos incarnate, and yet, somehow, when the dust settles, we’re all still standing. It’s… exciting.”
Jon: “I’m not sure what to answer. That is probably the best compliment I have ever gotten in my life. So, thank you, Uthgerd, and I hope that you keep holding on.”
Uthgerd: “Don’t let it go to your head. Besides, where else would I go? We’ve fought our way through bandits, draugr, and things I don’t even have names for. I’m not about to walk away from that. But the next time we find ourselves in the thick of it… try not to get yourself killed, aye?”

Jon: “The same goes for you, Uthgerd. If you died, I would have no clue what to do.”
Uthgerd: “If I die, you’d best not waste any time mourning. You pick up your sword and you keep fighting. That’s what I’d do if our places were reversed. The world doesn’t stop turning just because one of us falls.”

I felt a knot in my throat.

Jon: “My heart… might stop beating for a while, though.”
Uthgerd: “Your heart stopped beating a long time ago. It’s just taking your head a while to catch up.”

I felt she was right, although I couldn’t pinpoint exactly how. I had grown colder.

Jon: “Well, not sure what you meant by that, but… I think I’m going to bed. It’s always been nice talking to you, Uthgerd.”
Uthgerd: “Sleep well, Jon. And… may your dreams be untroubled. For what it’s worth… I’m glad you’re here.”

We woke up near midday. As we shared a table to eat breakfast, I thought it was time to bring up something that had been bothering me for a while.

Jon: “My beloved maidens of battle, it’s a new, cold day here in Helgen, and a good time as any to bring up a matter of vital importance that, honestly, I should have brought up a long time ago.”
Uthgerd: “What is it, Jon? You know I don’t like it when people beat around the bush. Spit it out.”
Alva: “Yes, Jon, what’s on your mind? We’re all ears.”
Ria: “Let’s hear it, Jon. We’ve been through a lot together, so there’s no need to hold back.”
Jenassa: “Get to the point. We don’t have all day.”
Jon: “Well, the thing is… I’m tired of going up to people and introducing ourselves as “an adventurer’s band” or “a band of adventurers.” We need a name for our little team, a catchy name that strikes fear in our enemies, that strikes… amazement in onlookers. So, I shall propose the name that I’ve been thinking about: Jon and the Amazing Band of Adventurers!”
Uthgerd: “Jon and the Amazing Band of Adventurers? You can’t be serious, boy.”
Alva: “Oh, Jon, really? It’s a bit… self-centered, don’t you think?”
Ria: “I agree with Alva. Shouldn’t our name represent all of us, not just you?”
Jenassa: “If I’m going to be part of a group, I’d prefer a name that doesn’t make me sound like a sidekick.”
Jon: “Very well. That first tentative name for our group was probably a joke. Let’s try this next name: Four Fierce Maidens of Battle, and One Dude.”
Uthgerd: “Still not feeling it, Jon. It wouldn’t strike fear in enemies, that’s for sure.”
Alva: “It does have a certain ring to it, but I’m not entirely convinced.”
Ria: “We’re not some harem, Jon. And shouldn’t our name focus on our skills and abilities?”
Jenassa: “Would it kill you to be just a little less self-absorbed?”
Jon: “Alright, I’m trying to think about our common traits. My beloved Alva here is a pale vampire. We have Uthgerd, who is big, sturdy, strong. Jenassa is cool and, you know, an assassin, and also a Dark Elf. We have Ria, who’s young, enthusiastic, and a Companion. What’s the common denominator here?”
Uthgerd: “We’re all skilled fighters, dedicated to our cause and each other. Why not focus on that?”
Alva: “Yes, perhaps something that reflects our strength, and the bonds we’ve formed.”
Ria: “A name that shows our unity and prowess in battle. That’s what’s important.”
Jon: “Let’s see… Should we make some metaphoric reference to animals or monsters, like in a sports team?”
Jenassa: “A sports team? This isn’t a game, Jon. We’re warriors.”
Alva: “As much as I enjoy our fun moments, Jenassa is right. Our name should carry weight.”
Ria: “So, something with animals or monsters. Like a wolf pack or dragon riders?”
Jon: “How about something that makes references to a force of nature and also fierce animals? Like Storm Wyverns, or, I don’t know, Firestorm Cave Rats?”
Uthgerd: “Firestorm Cave Rats? That’s… a mouthful, Jon. And not exactly the fierce image we’re going for.”
Alva: “I think we should stay away from cave rats, Jon. They’re more of a nuisance than a fearsome creature.”
Ria: “How about referencing creatures that are actually intimidating, like bears or sabre cats?”
Jenassa: “Or something that captures the essence of our fighting spirit, like a tempest or a whirlwind?”
Jon: “Let’s approach this from two angles: please brainstorm names of powerful forces of nature on one side, and on the other, honorable and powerful animals or monsters.”
Alva: “For forces of nature, we could go with something like Stormblades.”
Jenassa: “Or we could reference powerful creatures, like Direwolves.”
Ria: “On the forces of nature side, there’s always something like the Shattered Peaks.”
Uthgerd: “And as for fierce animals, Thunder Mammoths could work.”
Jon: “Thunder Mammoths, huh? How about Ground Sloth Tempests?”
Uthgerd: “Ground Sloths? Not exactly the most intimidating creatures, Jon.”
Alva: “And tempest suggests a lot of chaos and movement. Not really fitting for a sloth.”
Jenassa: “We need a name that will strike fear into our enemies, not make them laugh.”
Jon: “How about something fierce but not animal related, like… Fearsome Motherfuckers, or Tempest Bastards?”
Alva: “Tempest Bastards, huh? That’s… certainly a choice.”
Ria: “I think we should probably steer away from just outright calling ourselves ‘bastards’ or ‘motherfuckers,’ Jon.”
Jenassa: “If we are to be feared and respected, our name shouldn’t be a joke. Let’s keep thinking.”
Jon: “Jenassa, can you contribute some particular flavor from your homeland, Morrowind? What is there in Morrowind that could be fitting for this conversation?”
Jenassa: “Well, in Morrowind, there are the Ashlander tribes. They’re fierce and proud warriors. Maybe something like Ashlander Raiders?”
Ria: “Ooh, that’s got a nice ring to it! Good suggestion, Jenassa. What do you think, Alva, Uthgerd?”
Jon: “I mean, I like Raiders, but we have nothing to do with the ashlands. I have never even seen an ashland.”
Alva: “True, we don’t have a direct connection to the ashlands, but the name does evoke a sense of ferocity and strength.”
Uthgerd: “But if we’re trying to build a reputation for ourselves, shouldn’t our name reflect who we are and where we come from?”
Jenassa: “It was just a suggestion. Shall we keep brainstorming?”
Jon: “I like the term Raiders, but Raiders sounds like Bandits. I want something that suggests the ferocity of raiders but in a sort of honorable manner. And I want a landscape connotation like Ashland, but local to Skyrim. My apologies to you, Jenassa. Perhaps we could go back to including references to fierce animals.”
Alva: “How about Stormcloak Stalkers? It has the force of nature element with Stormcloak and the fierce animal connotation with Stalker.”
Uthgerd: “But wouldn’t that make us sound like supporters of Ulfric and his cause? That could be problematic.”
Jenassa: “Given the current political climate, it might be best to avoid names associated with either side of the civil war.”
Ria: “Maybe something like Frostpeak Hunters then? It still has the fierce animal element without any political affiliation.”

I saw the light.

Jon: “How about Frostpeak Stalkers?”
Alva: “Frostpeak Stalkers… It certainly sounds intimidating and conjures images of fierce warriors hunting in the frigid mountains.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, it does feel like a proper representation of our strengths – fierce, unwavering, and perhaps a bit wild.”
Jenassa: “It also gives a nod to this land and its harsh environment. I must admit, I like it.”
Ria: “Frostpeak Stalkers… Yes, I can see that striking fear and respect into the hearts of those who hear it.”
Jon: “Well, I’m glad to have been the one to propose the final name. It would have been fine if any of you had proposed it, of course. But anyway, this group composed of the five of us, along with any future member that may join, shall henceforth be called… What was it again?”
Alva: “Frostpeak Stalkers, dear Jon. It was your brilliant suggestion, after all. Never mind that we all helped brainstorm and contributed ideas.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, Frostpeak Stalkers. It’ll be a name that echoes through the lands of Skyrim. And never mind that you only came up with it after numerous failed attempts.”
Ria: “Don’t worry, Jon. We’ll make sure everyone knows it was you who proposed the perfect name.”
Jon: “Well, the first name I proposed was Jon and the Amazing Band of Adventurers, and we ended up with Frostpeak Stalkers. That’s significant progress. Good job, everybody!”
Jenassa: “Indeed, Jon. We’ve managed to find a name that represents all of us, not just you. Quite an accomplishment.”
Alva: “Yes, we should be proud of our new name. I, for one, am very excited to see where the Frostpeak Stalkers will take us in the future.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, let’s raise our tankards to the Frostpeak Stalkers!”
Jon: “From now on, I’m going to say Frostpeak Stalkers so many times that you’re going to grow sick of it.”
Alva: “Overuse it and I won’t hesitate to correct you. I’ll be sure to remind you of your first suggestion every time you do. Oh, Jon, I have no doubt you’ll make us all tired of hearing it. But that’s part of your charm.”
Uthgerd: “Let’s focus on living up to the name rather than just repeating it.”

• Previous part (19)
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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 members of his band of adventurers that can walk in daylight, were tasked with destroying a bandit camp along the road to Solitude. However, the camp turned out to be a fort, too much for the band to handle. They got lost on the way back, and ended up in front of Bleak Falls Barrow, a complex or ruins. The band cleared that ruin, which strengthened the dynamic of the group. They ended up resting at Falkreath’s inn.

When I walked out of our, Uthgerd’s and mine, rented room at the inn, I was enveloped in a warm glow. Despite the downpour outside, it felt like a wonderful morning. It improved even more when I spotted the barmaid, a redheaded babe.

Jon: “Hey miss, even though it’s raining heavily outside, isn’t this a beautiful morning?”
Narri: “On a morning like this, I’m glad to have some company in here. The rain does make the fire pit over there feel cozy, don’t you think? What can I get for you?”
Jon: “It does indeed, it does indeed. I feel so cozy here, like I’m enveloped in a warm glow. I’m satisfied all over. It has been a wonderful night, after a beautiful day of fighting alongside my companions, and now I find myself talking to an absolutely gorgeous redhead. What is there not to love?”
Narri: “A silver tongue, you’ve got. The fire’s warmth ain’t got nothin’ on the heat you’re bringin’ in here. What brings you and your companions to our humble Falkreath?”
Jon: “Well, my lovely barmaid, me and my companions belong to a band of adventurers who faced our deaths by conquering the ancient ruin called Bleak Falls Barrow. We completely cleared it, killed the big boss at the end, got plenty of loot, and came out of the other side. After a bit of walking, we ended up here in Falkreath. I had sex with my companion Uthgerd, rested for a few hours, and now I’m talking to you.”
Narri: “You and your companions must be quite the bravest of souls. And, ah, it seems you’ve been… celebrating your victory, haven’t you? I suppose a hero’s welcome is in order, then.”
Jon: “What is your name, by the way, you beautiful redheaded lass?”
Narri: “Just Narri. I work here for Valga, keepin’ the patrons happy and the drinks flowin’. What’s yours, handsome?”
Jon: “My name is Jon, love. Why don’t you get me and my companions some ales, and maybe you stick around?”
Narri: “I think I can scrounge up some ale for you and your companions. And, if I’m lucky, maybe Valga won’t notice me lingerin’ a bit too long at your table.”

When I returned to a practical mood, I approached the innkeeper for information, but Narri joined in as well, and I ended up detailing our adventure in Bleak Falls Barrow. Entertaining dialogue, but for some reason the AI system didn’t save that part. I asked the innkeeper about possible troubles in the area that needed solving.

Valga Vinicia: “Ah, yes… There was a local hunter, Valdr, who decided to investigate the strange occurrences at the mill. He went in to check on things, but never returned. His men have been searching for him, but so far, no one has heard from him.”
Narri: “And it’s not just Valdr, Jon. There have been other hunters who’ve gone missing in the area, too. Some folks are starting to get really worried.”
Jon: “Maybe I have to speak with your jarl.”
Valga Vinicia: “Ah, you mean Jarl Siddgeir? Ha! Good luck getting anything out of him, Jon. He’s… well, let’s just say he’s more concerned with his own comforts than with the problems of the common folk. But hey, it’s worth a try, I suppose. You can find him at the jarl’s longhouse, just up the hill from here.”
Jon: “It seems that you’re lacking in proper leadership.”
Valga Vinicia: “Ah, that’s one way to put it, Jon. Jarl Siddgeir… He’s not the most effective leader, to say the least. But, you know, he’s the one we’re stuck with. Between you and me, I think he’s more concerned with lining his own pockets than with helping the people of Falkreath.”
Narri: “Valga’s right, Jon. He’s not exactly… popular among the locals.”
Jon: “I’ll have a talk with that prick.”
Valga Vinicia: “Ah, I wish you luck with that, Jon. Just be careful, okay? Jarl Siddgeir’s not someone to be trifled with. He’s got a temper, and he’s not afraid to use it.”
Narri: “Yeah, and don’t say I didn’t warn you… He’s not exactly known for his listening skills, either.”
Jon: “Anyway, goodbye, Valga. Thank you for your helpful information. As for you, Narri, you’re a sight for sore eyes, with that fiery red hair of yours and that beautiful figure. I hope to see more of you.”

I gathered the team and visited the local general trader to unload the extra items we had gained through our adventure.

Jon: “Hello, person that I’m meeting for the first time. My band of adventurers and I come from the nearby haunted ruin called Bleak Falls Barrow. We have looted plenty of stuff, and I’m guessing you are interested in buying random crap found in dungeons, right?”
Solaf: “Ah, Bleak Falls Barrow, you say? That’s quite a feat, making it out of there alive. I’m Solaf, the owner of Gray Pine Goods. And, of course, I’d be more than happy to take a look at the… treasures you’ve brought back. What kind of goods do you have for me today?”
Uthgerd: “Hmm, a bit cozy in here, isn’t it?”
Jon: “Let’s see… Well, we have gems, animal pelts, this beautiful painting that we somehow found inside that ruin… What else…”
Solaf: “A painting, you say? Now that’s something I don’t get to see every day. Let me take a look. I’ve got a few collectors who might be interested in something like that. What’s the condition like? Is it… unsettling, being from a haunted place and all?”
Jenassa: “I’m more interested in selling my share of the gems.”
Jon: “No, the painting seems earlier to the haunted nature of the ruins. It just depicts an ancient rustic scene. Nords being Nords, that far back. Pretty peaceful.”
Solaf: “Ah, a piece of Nord history, then. That could be very valuable to the right collector. I think I can give you a good price for it. Let me just check a few things… Ah, yes. I think I can offer you 200 gold for the painting.”
Ria: “That sounds like a good deal, Jon. What do you think?”

We didn’t earn as much as I had hoped, but then again we hadn’t bothered to burden ourselves with the weight of every armor piece the bandits were wearing.

Jon: “That’s a decent amount of money we’ve made by selling the crap we didn’t need, so thank you for buying it from us, Solaf.”
Solaf: “Not a problem, not a problem at all. It’s always good business to take unwanted items off the hands of adventurers like yourselves. And it looks like I’ve got a lot of sorting to do… You folks must have cleaned out the entire ruin. I’m impressed.”
Jon: “That adventure was the stuff of legends, not going to lie. I’m quite impressed with how it worked out. Anyway, Solaf, we came to Falkreath because we were lost, but now we’re here, and we plan to stick around and solve local problems. What can you tell me about the town and its surroundings?”
Solaf: “Ah, well, Falkreath’s got its share of problems, that’s for sure. There’s been rumors of strange happenings at the local cemetery, and some folks have gone missing in the nearby woods. Then there’s the bandits on the road to Whiterun… They’ve been causing a lot of trouble for travelers.”
Ria: “That sounds like something we could help with, Jon.”
Jon: “We sure can, and I will be glad to help the locals, but I hope to do it in an official capacity by talking to the jarl. Siddgeir seems to be the name. I talked about him with Valga, the innkeeper, and she didn’t have very nice things to say about your jarl. Do you know him?”
Solaf: “Ah, Siddgeir, the jarl of Falkreath. Well, let’s just say he’s not the most popular man in town. He’s been making some… questionable decisions lately, and some folks are starting to get a bit restless. Valga Vinicia’s got a bit of a grudge against him, if I recall correctly. She’s been complaining about the taxes he’s been levying on the local inns and taverns.”
Jon: “That is a shame. No hold in Skyrim or wherever else can survive for long with terrible leadership.”
Jenassa: “Leadership is a luxury, Jon. In my line of work, I’ve seen many holds and cities rise and fall, regardless of their leaders. Power is a fleeting thing. Still, if this Siddgeir is as incompetent as the innkeeper makes him out to be, it’s only a matter of time before someone decides to take advantage of the situation. Perhaps we can use this to our advantage. Uthgerd, what do you think? You’ve dealt with the Nords and their jarls before. What can you tell us about this Siddgeir?”
Jon: “Yeah, Uthgerd, have you heard about the incompetence of Falkreath’s jarl from your hometown of Whiterun? Is he infamous even over there?”
Uthgerd: “Yes, I’ve heard whispers about Jarl Siddgeir’s… lacking leadership. My comrades in the Companions have mentioned it in passing, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. Still, if what Solaf and the innkeeper say is true, it sounds like Falkreath could use some… guidance. Jenassa’s right, though. We might be able to use this to our advantage, if we play our cards right.”
Jon: “Anyway, Uthgerd, Jenassa, Ria, my beautiful maidens of battle, I intend to stick around Falkreath for a bit, solving problems and all that. The only issue is that Alva, my lovely vampire, is stuck in Whiterun, so tonight I’ll hire a wagon and bring her here.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, Falkreath hold, a pleasant enough place, I suppose. Not as grand as Whiterun, but it has its charm. I’m with you, Jon, let’s see what kind of trouble we can stir up for the local bandits and make a bit of gold in the process.”

Jenassa: “Stir up trouble? You’re always so eager for a fight. But I’ll admit, the coin sounds good. What’s the plan, then?”
Jon: “Well, I plan to do it in an official capacity. We go talk to the Jarl, this stupid Siddgeir that people complain about. Let’s hope he offers us a proper contract to destroy some bandits, or clear out some location. Let’s earn more coin for our dream of owning a home in which we can store lots of children.”
Ria: “Oh, come on, Jon, you’re not still thinking about that whole settling down thing, are you? We’ve got a long way to go before we can think about having kids. Besides, I thought we were in this for the adventure, not just to make a quick septim.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, Ria’s got you there, Jon. You’re always talking about this dream of yours, but I think you’re forgetting what kind of lives we lead. We’re warriors, not farmers. Although… I must admit, the idea of you as a father is quite…”
Jon: “Yes, my maidens, I do want a house, or land at least, but it would be used as a base of operations. We would store some of our stuff there to ensure we aren’t carrying all our valuable possessions wherever we go. You know, it’d be a nice place in which to rest, have sex, and hear children running and dancing around, which would improve the mood.”

While trying to look as respectable as possible, we entered the ruler’s longhouse. Inside, we spotted a fancily dressed High Elf hanging out near the hearth. The jarl was lounging on the throne.

Jon: “Oh, a fellow Altmer, I see. You seem fancy enough to be the steward of this place.”
Nenya: “Ah, a well-spoken newcomer, how refreshing. Indeed, I am Nenya, the steward of Falkreath. And you are…?”
Uthgerd: “I think he’s trying to impress you, Nenya. Don’t mind him, he’s all talk.”
Jon: “Thank you for the introduction, Uthgerd, as well as the vote of confidence. Nevermind, Nenya, my name is Jon. I’m glad to introduce myself to you, such a beautiful and tall High Elf. We are a band of adventurers hailing from the neighboring hold of Whiterun. We want to know if you have some perilous tasks that need to be solved by the means of violence.”
Nenya: “Ah, Jon, the charming one. I must say, I’m intrigued by your… audacity. As for tasks, well, we do have some issues in the area that could use your particular set of skills. Bandits, wolves, and the like have been causing trouble on the roads.”
Uthgerd: “Oh boy, here we go again. Jon’s going to try to sweet-talk his way into getting us a job.”
Jenassa: “What kind of pay can we expect for taking on these tasks, steward?”
Jon: “Yes, I’m afraid, Nenya, that even though we are very kind-hearted and compassionate adventurers, we require money to live, as everyone does. You know, we have to pay for lodging and food. We’ll gladly take care of your bandit and wolf problem, and maybe other stuff, but we do require some reward of the monetary kind.”
Nenya: “It’s only fair that you’re compensated for your trouble. We can offer a modest sum of gold and some… let’s call them privileges in Falkreath. However, I must warn you, our treasury isn’t as… overflowing as it used to be.”
Uthgerd: “Saved by the greed, as always. I’m sure we can come to some agreement, Nenya.”
Jon: “Miss Nenya, do you think it would be worth it for us to introduce ourselves to your employer?”
Nenya: “Ah, you mean the jarl, Siddgeir? I suppose it couldn’t hurt to pay your respects. Though, I should warn you, he’s not exactly… the most… involved leader. He has his interests, and governance isn’t always at the top of his list.”
Ria: “That sounds like a delicate situation. I’m not sure if we should get involved with the local politics, but it might be good to know more about the jarl and his priorities.”
Jenassa: “Information is always valuable.”
Jon: “Nenya, I’m glad that you spoke so candidly with us complete strangers, newcomers to your hold, about the shortcomings of your boss jarl Siddgeir. I must say, we have spoken to the populace, and they seem rather troubled about your leader’s incompetence.”
Nenya: “Ah, I see you’ve already gotten a taste of the local sentiment, have you? Well, I suppose it’s no secret that Siddgeir’s rule has been… questionable, at best. As his steward, I’ve tried to… mitigate the effects of his inattention, but it’s a difficult task.”
Uthgerd: “It sounds like the jarl is more interested in enjoying his power than actually doing his job.”
Jon: “Well, Nenya, steward of Falkreath, if your administrative abilities are equiparable to your beauty, I’m sure you’re doing a tremendous job.”
Nenya: “Ah, Jon, you’re as silver-tongued as you are bold. I assure you, my abilities as a steward are not simply a matter of aesthetics. I have served Falkreath for many years, and I take my duties very seriously.”

We approached the jarl, who didn’t seem impressed by us.

Jon: “Jarl Siddgeir, sire, I present myself as the leader of a band of adventurers that is, at the time, unnamed. Anyway, we have met your steward, Nenya.”
Nenya: “I’ve had the pleasure of making their acquaintance. They seem quite… eager to prove themselves.”
Jarl Siddgeir: “I am Jarl Siddgeir, the ruler of Falkreath.”
Jon: “Well, let me tell you, Mr. Siddgeir, we have spoken to the populace, and they seem to be very happy about your rule. So, congratulations about that. A jarl should always be respected and thought that he is awesome.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, spare us the flattery, Jon. We’re here to discuss potential work, not to kiss up to the jarl.”
Nenya: “Actually, Jarl Siddgeir, I think Jon’s sentiments are… misplaced. The people of Falkreath are indeed happy, but it’s more due to my own efforts in maintaining the hold’s affairs, rather than your… leadership.”
Jarl Siddgeir: “Ah, Nenya, always so blunt. Yes, well, I suppose it’s true.”
Jon: “We don’t want to interfere in the argument between a jarl and his beautiful steward, but my band of adventurers have come to your longhouse because we are capable, we can exercise violence against evil, and we were wondering if you, Jarl Siddgeir, as the ruler of the Falkreath hold, can offer us some work that involves killing monsters or people.”
Jarl Siddgeir: “Ah, yes, yes, of course. Well, as it happens, we do have some issues that require attention. Bandits on the roads, wolves attacking travelers… that sort of thing. I’m sure Nenya can provide you with the details.”
Nenya: “Indeed, I can. We’ve had reports of a particularly vicious group of bandits operating near the old ruins of Bleak Falls Barrow. They’ve been attacking merchants and travelers alike. If you’re willing to take on the task, we can offer you a modest reward.”
Jon: “Near the ruins of Bleak Falls Barrow, you say? We came from Bleak Falls Barrow. We cleared out that ancient complex of ruins, and we killed every single bandit we saw there.”
Jenassa: “Yes, and we took out a few draugr and a giant spider for good measure. It was a productive day.”
Ria: “And we found some great loot, too! That ancient Nord ruin was filled with all sorts of treasures.”
Nenya: “Ah, well, in that case, it seems you’re a more capable group than I initially thought. Very well, I suppose that particular task is no longer necessary.”
Jon: “Listen, Jarl Siddgeir, I see you have the standard fare of problems: bandits and wolves on the road. We’ll patrol the area and kill anything that attacks us. If we see any bandit camp, we’ll clear it out.”
Uthgerd: “What’s with the cheese wheel antics?”
Jon: “It is midday already, and I haven’t eaten anything since I woke up. I was hungry and I remembered I had a cheese wheel in my backpack. I thought it would be great to eat some cheese. It was delicious.”
Jenassa: “Ah, I see. Well, hunger can be a powerful motivator, can’t it, Jon?”
Ria: “And it looks like you’re quite the cheese connoisseur, too. Smuggler’s Cheese Wheel, no less!”
Nenya: “I’m glad to see that your priorities are in order, Jon. Hunger is, after all, a pressing concern. But, if you’re quite satisfied now, perhaps we could return to the matter at hand?”
Jon: “Yes, the monster of hunger has been vanquished. My final point I wanted to make to you, Jarl Siddgeir, is this: we’re a capable band of warriors and we shall vanquish your foes. For a modest fee.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! I like your spirit, Jon. And I’m sure the Jarl appreciates your… colorful way with words.”
Jarl Siddgeir: “Ah, yes, well, I think we’ve established that you’re a capable group. And I’m willing to pay a modest fee for your services, as you put it. Nenya, see to it that they’re compensated fairly for their work.”
Jon: “Well, I guess that is all. We’ll stop bothering you now, Jarl Siddgeir. Thank you for your attention. I must say, you’re quite the chill dude. You seem like you have a good time around here.”
Nenya: “Ah, yes, well, the Jarl does have a… certain reputation for being… laid back, shall we say.”
Jarl Siddgeir: “Ha! Chill dude, I like that. Yes, I try to keep things… relaxed around here. It’s not always easy, of course, but I do my best.”

Uthgerd: “Well, I think we’ve wasted enough of the Jarl’s time, Jon.”

I didn’t want a repeat of the Bleak Falls Barrow situation, when I found myself lacking magicka potions, so I headed to the local alchemist’s shop. It was time, if not to buy potions, to mix my ingredients into some. To my confusion, we found an Argonian dude browsing the ingredients.

Jon: “Hey, hello, Mrs. shopkeeper. I was going to ask you the standard fare about potions and ingredients, but I have noticed the Argonian. Rare to see one around these parts.”
Zaria: “Ah, yes, good day to you! Not many travelers come through here asking about the locals, but yes, Thrice-Bitten here is indeed a rare sight. We don’t often get Argonians in Falkreath.”
Thrice-Bitten: “Ah, yes, just passing through, trying to… uh… acquire some… rare ingredients. Lovely shop you have here, Zaria.”
Uthgerd: “What’s all this I hear about rare ingredients?”
Jon: “I must say, Thrice-Bitten, that you sounded a bit suspicious there.”
Thrice-Bitten: “Oh, no, no, no, nothing suspicious at all! I assure you, just a… a nervous habit, that’s all.”

Zaria: “Actually, Thrice-Bitten has been acting a bit… unusual since he arrived. I’ve never seen anyone so… anxious to acquire certain ingredients.”
Ria: “Unusual, you say? What kind of ingredients is he looking for?”
Jon: “Yes, Thrice-Bitten, please answer my beautiful companion Ria. Are you looking for specific types of ingredients?”
Thrice-Bitten: “Ah, no, no, nothing in particular, I assure you! Just… uh… browsing, yes, that’s it. Although… I did hear that Zaria might have some… rare mushrooms in stock.”
Zaria: “Rare mushrooms? Which ones might you be referring to? I don’t recall showing you any particularly rare or exotic specimens.”
Jon: “Oh, I see what this is about. Rare mushrooms, huh? Of course, we all want rare mushrooms if we can find them. Nothing wrong with flying in your mind to have a good ol’ time.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, Jon, please. This isn’t about your… recreational activities. Thrice-Bitten’s hiding something.”
Thrice-Bitten: “No, no, it’s nothing like that! I just… need them for a… a medical purpose, yes.”
Jenassa: “A medical purpose? What kind of medical purpose could you possibly need rare mushrooms for?”
Jon: “I don’t know if this is any of our business, but yeah, Thrice-Bitten, I’m curious enough to know. Do you have a disease, perhaps a contagious one that everybody else should stay away from?”
Thrice-Bitten: “No, no disease! Nothing contagious, I assure you! It’s just… a personal matter. Something I’d rather not discuss in public, if you don’t mind.”
Ria: “A personal matter? That sounds even more suspicious. Maybe we should be careful around you, Thrice-Bitten.”
Zaria: “Now, now, let’s not jump to conclusions. Thrice-Bitten’s been a good customer, and I’m sure he means no harm.”
Jon: “You see, the issue here, Thrice-Bitten, is that me and my companions, my beautiful Uthgerd the Unbroken, Ria the Companion, and Jenassa the sellsword, we are professional solvers of problems. Those problems usually involve excessive amounts of violence. We don’t have any issue killing people and doing all kinds of nasty stuff to their bodies. So now that we’re dealing with you, I have to wonder… is this a problem to be solved?”
Thrice-Bitten: “Oh dear, oh dear… This is not good, not good at all. I think I’ve made a terrible mistake. You see, I’m not a problem to be solved; I’m just a… a person with a problem. A problem that I’m trying to fix before it’s too late.”
Uthgerd: “What kind of problem? Spit it out, Argonian. We don’t have all day.”
Jon: “Yes, Thrice-Bitten, the beautiful Uthgerd, whom you see here frowning, she’s constantly aching to cleave someone in half, and I’m eager to see her do it, as it makes me aroused. So, Thrice-Bitten, out with it. If we can help you, we will help you, and if we have to hurt you, we will hurt you.”
Thrice-Bitten: “Ah, please, please, I beg of you! Don’t hurt me! I’ll tell you everything! I’ll tell you all about the letter!”
Zaria: “A letter? What letter? What’s going on, Thrice-Bitten?”
Thrice-Bitten: “I wrote a letter… to Ingun Black-Briar… in Riften. I said some… unpleasant things about her and her mother, Maven Black-Briar.”
Jon: “You said unpleasant things to the most powerful person in Riften, who is basically a mob boss? I’m sure she can send assassins against you, Thrice-Bitten. That wasn’t a wise thing to do.”
Thrice-Bitten: “I know, I know! I was a fool! I was trying to… burn bridges, you see. I’ve been too agreeable in the past, and I wanted to make it clear that I wouldn’t be taken advantage of anymore. But I went too far, and now I’m sure Maven will have me killed.”
Jenassa: “Burn bridges? What do you mean?”
Jon: “Oh, I know all about burning bridges. That’s when you destroy your relationship with someone you used to care about, destroy it to an extent that it cannot be repaired. You can no longer look at this person in the face and expect any kind of respect from them.”
Thrice-Bitten: “Yes, exactly! That’s what I was trying to do. But I think I may have gone too far this time. Maven Black-Briar is not someone to be trifled with, and I’m sure she’ll stop at nothing to make an example of me.”
Ria: “So, what do you want from us, Thrice-Bitten? You want us to protect you from Maven’s wrath?”
Jon: “Well, Thrice-Bitten, you have put us in… How to say it? A quandary. Now we know that Maven Black-Briar may offer money for your corpse.”
Thrice-Bitten: “Ah, please, you have to help me! I’ll do anything! I’ll pay you, I’ll give you anything you want! Just please, you have to stop that letter from reaching Ingun! If it reaches her, I’m a dead man! Maven will have me killed, and I’ll never be able to show my face in Riften again!”
Jon: “Well, you wouldn’t be able to show your face in Riften if you’re killed, so you have that sorted out, but how is anyone supposed to stop a letter? I don’t know what you mean. Does a letter have legs?”
Thrice-Bitten: “No, no, of course not! I mean that the letter is being carried by a courier! He’s supposed to deliver it to Ingun Black-Briar in Riften. If we can intercept the courier, we can stop the letter from reaching her!”
Uthgerd: “Ah, a courier, you say? That’s a bit more manageable. Do you know which route the courier is taking?”
Jon: “Yeah, please, Thrice-Bitten, first answer my lovely companion Uthgerd here, but I have to say, you want us to murder a courier just because you’re an idiot and wrote a really nasty letter?”
Thrice-Bitten: “I… I didn’t think of it as murder, exactly… I just want to protect myself from Maven’s wrath… But, I suppose it’s true… I did write the letter, and now I want you to kill someone to fix my mistake…”
Uthgerd: “Stop stammering and answer my question, Argonian! Which route is the courier taking? Is he going through the mountains or along the main road?”
Jon: “Hey, Thrice-Bitten, stop stalling and answer my big, sturdy, gorgeous companion here.”
Thrice-Bitten: “Ah, forgive me! The courier… he’s taking the main road… from Falkreath to Riften. He should be passing through the forest just east of here.”
Zaria: “Ah, now that’s a coincidence. You’re in luck, Thrice-Bitten. That’s the same road Jon and his companions were heading down anyway, weren’t you?”

I didn’t like that this was beginning to feel like an obligatory quest.

Jenassa: “What business do we have in Riften, Jon?”
Jon: “We have no business whatsoever in Riften, Jenassa. I think this is a waste of time.”
Uthgerd: “Hold on, Jon. I think this is starting to get interesting. We’ve got a courier to intercept and a letter to retrieve. It’s not every day we get to cause a bit of chaos and mayhem on the roads.”
Ria: “I’m with Uthgerd on this one, Jon. It sounds like a challenge. And who knows what kind of reward we might get from Thrice-Bitten if we can pull it off?”
Jon: “Yeah, what kind of reward is Thrice-Bitten going to give us? One of his scales? Uthgerd, are you seriously considering murdering a courier for this scaly bastard here?”
Thrice-Bitten: “No, no, I’ll give you gold! Lots of gold! I’ll give you everything I have! Just please, please stop the letter from reaching Ingun!”
Uthgerd: “Hold on, Jon. No one said anything about murder. We’re just going to… intercept the courier. And Thrice-Bitten’s gold is as good as anyone’s.”
Zaria: “I’m sure the courier’s life is worth more than all the gold in Skyrim, Uthgerd.”
Jon: “Alright, Thrice-Bitten, I guess we’ll consider this quest of yours, even though, I must say, this is entirely your fucking fault. If you weren’t such a nasty, idiotic Argonian, you wouldn’t have created this problem that may end in someone’s death.”
Thrice-Bitten: “I know, I know… I was a fool… I said things I shouldn’t have, and now I’m paying the price… But please, don’t lecture me anymore, just… just help me…”
Uthgerd: “Shut up, Thrice-Bitten. Jon’s right, this is all your fault. But we’ll help you anyway. Because that’s what we do.”
Jon: “Uthgerd, when you act so heroically, I feel such a tingling in me… I’m like swooning at you.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, Jon, stop it. This is no time for your… romantic nonsense. We have a task to discuss, not to mention the fact that we’re in a public place.”
Jenassa: “Indeed, let’s focus on the task at hand. Thrice-Bitten, tell us more about the courier. What does he look like? When was he supposed to leave?”
Jon: “Thrice-Bitten, you better answer Jenassa here. As you see her, with her crimson eyes and full lips, she’s an assassin of real competence, so you better be careful, and measure your words.”
Thrice-Bitten: “Ah, yes, of course! I’ll be careful, I promise! The courier… he’s a middle-aged man, a bit on the heavier side, with a dark beard and wearing a leather tunic with the symbol of the Rift’s couriers on it. He was supposed to leave early this morning, heading towards Riften along the main road.”
Jenassa: “I see. And do you have any idea how many guards he might have with him?”
Ria: “Yeah, and what kind of cargo is he carrying besides the letter?”
Jon: “Thrice-Bitten, how come you said that the courier is on the heavier side, if he spends his life walking from place to place? Are you saying that walking constantly from place to place doesn’t make a man slim?”
Thrice-Bitten: “Ah, well, you see… I didn’t mean to imply that the courier is… unfit or anything. It’s just that… well, couriers often have a bit of a… privileged lifestyle, shall we say. They get to eat and drink well, and they don’t always have to walk as much as you’d think. Sometimes they get to ride horses or carriages, especially if they’re carrying important or valuable cargo.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! A privileged lifestyle, you say? I’ve never met a courier who didn’t look like they’d been run over by a horse.”
Jon: “If being a courier is such a privileged career, why didn’t you become one, Thrice-Bitten? In that case, after you wrote that cursed letter, you could have delivered it yourself. Along the way, when regret hit, you would have simply stopped the delivery, and nobody would have to murder you.”
Thrice-Bitten: “Ah, well… I… uh… You see, I’m not exactly… suited for that kind of work. I’m more of a… a… Oh, I don’t know, a scholar, I suppose. I like to think, not walk all day.”
Jenassa: “A scholar, huh? Well, maybe you should have thought twice before writing that letter, then.”
Jon: “A scholar?! An Argonian scholar?! I bet you can’t even read. Well, I suppose you can read and write if you wrote a letter, but anyway, my point is that you, Thrice-Bitten, failing to become a courier is the source of all your troubles.”
Thrice-Bitten: “Ah, yes, I can read and write, thank you very much! I may not be as… physically gifted as some others, but I have a mind, and I know how to use it! And, I suppose, in a way, you’re right. If I had become a courier, none of this would have happened. But, alas, fate has a way of playing tricks on us, doesn’t it?”

I took my warriors aside for a moment.

Jon: “Well, my beautiful team of murderous women, are we seriously going to follow the road to Riften in pursuit of a courier, to retrieve this bastard’s letter?”
Uthgerd: “I think we’ve come too far to turn back now, Jon. Besides, it’ll be a nice change of pace from the usual bandits and dragons. A little intrigue and espionage could be fun.”
Jenassa: “I agree with Uthgerd. It’s not every day we get to play at being spies. And who knows, maybe we’ll learn something new about the inner workings of the Rift.”
Jon: “Well, it seems I don’t need a house to be surrounded by children, because this is childish. Any mission that doesn’t involve disemboweling people is unworthy, as far as I’m concerned.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, come on, Jon. You’re not going to start with that again, are you? We can’t just go around killing people all the time. Sometimes a little subtlety is required.”
Jenassa: “Besides, Jon, this mission may not involve bloodshed, but it’s still a challenge. And who knows, maybe we’ll find some… opportunities for violence along the way.”
Jon: “Hey, Uthgerd, you understand it, don’t you? If I don’t manage to kill someone every few days, I start feeling this itch in me, you know… the itch to shed blood and destroy a life. You surely feel it as well, don’t you, Uthgerd?”
Uthgerd: “Ah, Jon, I… I understand where you’re coming from, but no, I don’t feel that itch. I’m a warrior, not a murderer. I fight for honor, for my city, and for my people. I don’t crave bloodshed for its own sake. And I think you need to be careful with that itch of yours. It might consume you one day.”
Jon: “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll find an ointment or something for it.”