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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 mighty Frostpeak Stalkers lazed about for a week in the small estate they bought with their adventuring money. The band’s members bonded further. When the week of fucking around ended, they were broke, so they decided to follow a rumor about some necromancers holed up at a place called Brittleshin Pass, that may grant the team good loot.

As soon as we entered the cave system, I asked my teammates to wait while I went invisible with a spell. I sneaked up ahead and past a corner, to find myself facing a necromancer and their raised skeleton. My “ghostwalk” spell would teleport me to my origin point after some time ran out or I fired another spell, so I chose to enrage the necromancer’s summon against them. As they fought each other, my team pounced upon the guard, making short work out of them.

While we looted the corpses, a headless draugr shambled up some stairs at the end of that corridor. I blasted it away with a couple of elemental bombs. But two more undead followed it. The Frostpeak Stalkers pushed forward. As my teammates hacked and shot arrows at our enemies, I got a good look of about fifteen undead gathered before an altar. If I failed to thin down that group, my team would be in trouble, so I shot elemental bombs for some good area-of-effect damage.

The frontliners were mowing those undead efficiently, but I realized two of my teammates had been incapacitated. I spotted the culprit: a bigger-than-normal skeleton enveloped in a bluish aura, and that kept sniping at us with magic-imbued arrows. I had no clue what sort of enemy that was nor was I sure how to defeat it. After I healed a few teammates, I shot at the skeleton from behind thick pillars. A single arrow hit me, and it took two of my best health potions to recover. A few straggling undead were keeping my frontliners busy. By the time Uthgerd reached the skeleton bowman, he had almost crumbled. It took a couple of elemental bombs exploding close for it to fall.

I healed my companions. I was about to bring up the possibility of retreating: we hadn’t come across the main necromancers, but plenty of us had already narrowly avoided dying, including myself. That’s when one of the big-shot necromancers came running out of the depths of the cave with a peculiar staff in hand. She got some good shots at my frontliners; I had to stop fighting to heal Uthgerd and Ria. I recall that necromancer’s last moments: a couple of arrows, shot by Fastred, stuck out of her as the necromancer retreated towards a wall, facing two of my heavy-hitters. At melee range, the necromancer was unleashing strong Destruction magic at Uthgerd, blasting her backwards, when I shot the necromancer with a Backlash spell, which interrupted my enemy’s magic, redirecting its flow toward herself. The necromancer fell dead, hit by her own spell.

We faced three or so other necromancers upstairs, and it involved fighting on a narrow rock bridge, but my team defeated them before I could provide proper support due to the terrain.

As I recovered my breath by the corpse of one of the necromancers, Alva approached me and put her hand on my back.

Jon: “Maybe taking that week off to settle down and fuck around in our newly-acquired home was a terrible mistake, because these necromancers almost murdered us all. There were a few times when I had no clue how we survived.”
Alva: “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Jon. We’ve faced worse than a few bony conjurers, and we’ll face worse still. That week was exactly what we needed: time to breathe, to bond. It made us stronger, not weaker. Now, let’s see what treasures these necromancers were hoarding. Perhaps a new trinket or two will make you feel better about our little vacation.”
Jon: “You’re far more optimistic than me. I repeatedly came across some of our teammates on the ground, and it was only due to my healing spell that they leaped to their feet.”
Alva: “Stop fretting. We’re all still here, aren’t we? Your healing spells, my claws, Uthgerd’s axe… we all play our parts. Now, let’s not dwell on what could have happened. We’ve got necromancers to disarm and treasure to claim. And when we’re done, I think we owe ourselves a little celebration for a job well done.”
Jon: “I’m so glad, Alva, that you are always ready to offer me a perspective on how the prospect of dying isn’t so terrible.”
Alva: “Oh, darling, you know I live for the thrill of danger. A little dance with death just makes the heart beat faster. But you have to admit, it’s been a good night.”

The Frostpeak Stalkers gathered amid corpses and the scars of spell impacts.

Jon: “My friends, once again we have survived against all odds. I say so because there were a few times throughout this fierce battle against necromancers, ones tougher than anticipated, that I thought we were done for.”
Ria: “It was intense, no doubt about it. But we pulled through. We always do.”
Bassianus: “I never thought I’d be fighting necromancers when I joined you guys. It’s… different.”
Sapphire: “Different is right. But it’s never boring, I’ll give you that.”

One piece of loot, wrenched from a dead necromancer’s grip, made the risk worth it.

Jon: “Well, this must be the finest loot we have ever come across: the Staff of Hasedoki. Check out its enchantment: if the target dies within 69 seconds, it traps its soul. The staff also knocks back the target on impact, and while not attacking, the staff creates a ward that protects against spells for up to 46 points.”
Uthgerd: “69 seconds, huh? Someone’s got a sick sense of humor.”
Ria: “That’s… an odd enchantment. But hey, it sounds powerful. Could come in handy.”
Alva: “Oh, I do love a good staff. This Hasedoki’s creation sounds particularly… entertaining.”
Bassianus: “Sounds like a nasty piece of work. Nasty, but effective.”
Sapphire: “A ward against spells, too? That could be real useful in our line of work.”
Jon: “Hey Fastred, are you doing okay? You’ve been quite silent.”
Fastred: “I’m… I’m alright. Just trying to wrap my head around all this. It’s a lot to take in.”
Uthgerd: “It’s never easy, kid. But you’re doing fine.”
Ria: “Yeah, don’t worry Fastred. We’ve all been where you are. Oh, darling, you’re doing wonderfully. Don’t let the grim reality get you down.”
Bassianus: “We’re here for you, Fastred. You’re not alone in this.”

My team comforted Fastred while she did her best to seem unfazed by the carnage and the nearly-dying.

Jon: “To be honest, I thought this operation would be a walk in the park. A cave with a couple of necromancers; how bad could it be? Well, apparently it could be absolutely terrible. That was one nasty horde of skeletons and zombies. And that glowing skeleton bowman, what the fuck was up with it? Not to mention how powerful that one necromancer was with her special staff.”
Uthgerd: “A walk in the park? Ha! When has it ever been a walk in the park with us?”
Jon: “It has seemed that way sometimes.”
Ria: “True, Jon. We should’ve known better. But hey, we survived. That’s what counts.”
Alva: “Oh, it was absolutely delightful. The stench of death, the thrill of battle…”
Bassianus: “I… I didn’t expect it to be this intense. But we made it through. That’s something.”
Sapphire: “Never underestimate a necromancer, Jon. They’re always full of surprises.”
Jon: “For sure, I will never underestimate a necromancer again, but let me tell you all: we’re going to keep saying ‘we survived’ after every battle, because only if we survived we would be able to say that we survived. Otherwise, we would all have died.”
Uthgerd: “That’s one way to look at it. But we’re not planning on dying anytime soon, are we?”
Ria: “No, we’re not. We’re the Frostpeak Stalkers. We’re survivors.”
Alva: “Oh, death isn’t the end, Jon. For some of us, it’s just a new beginning. But I do enjoy our little adventures together, even if we’re all still… breathing.”
Jon: “Well, Alva, I suppose that if we find ourselves with absolutely no way out, a moment away from dying, you can just turn that person into a vampire. At least he or she will get to enjoy an undead life full of adventures.”
Alva: “Oh, my dear Jon, I wish it were that simple. But I’m afraid turning someone into a vampire isn’t a decision to be made lightly.”
Uthgerd: “Besides, who says we want to be vampires? Yeah, count me out of the whole undead thing. I like my heart beating, thank you very much.”
Sapphire: “As much as I love a good thrill, I think I’ll pass on the whole vampire thing.”
Jon: “Well, I’d rather become a vampire than die.”
Uthgerd: “Let’s just make sure it doesn’t come to that.”
Ria: “I agree. Let’s focus on staying alive, alright?”
Alva: “Don’t worry, Jon. If it ever comes to that, I’ll make sure you’re not alone in the dark.”
Bassianus: “Can we talk about something else? This conversation’s getting a bit too morbid for my liking.”

Upstairs, as we looted through the corpses, I hoped to dispel the seriousness that kept us quiet.

Jon: “How about we talk about the mindset of a powerful enchanter that went out of his or her way to make an enchantment that lasted exactly 69 seconds?”
Uthgerd: “I’m pretty sure they were just having a laugh. Or maybe they were just really… really into their work.”
Ria: “Maybe they were trying to send a message? Or it could just be a weird coincidence.”
Alva: “Oh, I do love a good enchantment, but I have to admit, this one does make me raise an eyebrow.”
Bassianus: “Well, someone definitely has a sense of humor. Or a very active imagination.”
Jon: “Indeed. Whoever of us ends up wielding the Staff of Hasedoki will have some interesting visual images to deal with while they’re trying to fight.”
Uthgerd: “I don’t even want to think about what kind of images you’re talking about. Let’s just use the staff and forget about the rest.”
Ria: “Agreed. Let’s just focus on the task at hand.”
Alva: “Oh, don’t be such spoilsports. A little imagination never hurt anyone.”

At one point I lifted my gaze only to find myself being grinned at by a young woman standing inside a cage. She was wearing fur armor, had shoulder-length blonde hair, and a nasty burn scar marred half of her face.

Jon: “Wait a second, someone’s alive inside that cage. A potential sacrifice victim for the necromancers, I suppose.”
Uthgerd: “Well, let’s get her out then.”
Ria: “Poor soul. She must be terrified.”
Alva: “Oh, how delightfully morbid. Keeping a live one for later…”

After I lockpicked the cage open, the woman remained inside, smiling at me as if we were playing around.

Jon: “Hey miss, what’s up with you? Those necromancers were going to use you as a sacrificial victim, right?”
Zora Fair-Child: “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my gallant hero! And yes, you’re absolutely right. Those vile necromancers captured me, yet again. I’ve lost count of how many times this has happened. You’d think they’d learn by now that I’m not exactly prime material for their dark rituals, thanks to this. But I suppose I should thank them. After all, their poor judgment led me to you!”
Uthgerd: “Hah! Looks like you’ve got quite the story to tell. But let’s not get too cozy here. There’s always more trouble lurking around the corner in these caves.”
Zora Fair-Child: “Hello there! If you’re looking for a new adventuring companion, I’d be more than happy to join you. After all, it’s the least I can do to repay you for saving me. And maybe together we can figure out why I keep getting captured by these blasted necromancers!”
Jon: “I am ecstatic about the fact that a competent-looking woman like you, or anyone at all, would want to join my band of adventurers, but do you truly have no idea why these necromancers, or any necromancers for that matter, kept capturing you?”
Zora Fair-Child: “Well, it’s a bit of a long story, but it all started when I lost my… fair visage. You see, this burn mark on my face? It’s the reason I’m no longer considered a suitable subject for their rituals. But apparently not all necromancers got the memo, and they keep trying to capture me!”

Uthgerd: “Hah! I like you. You’ve got guts, kid. Maybe you’ll be able to toughen up this wispy elf here. What do you say, Jon? Should we bring this one along?”
Jon: “I’d love to bring this one along, but what the hell is up with ‘wispy elf’ shit? Wispy? I would have never thought that someone would wield such an adjective against me.”
Zora Fair-Child: “Well, with a strapping woman like her by your side, I suppose anyone might seem a bit wispy in comparison! But don’t worry, I’m sure you’re tougher than you look.”
Ria: “Hey, what’s going on here? Did I hear something about a new recruit for our little band?”
Jon: “Yes, Ria. Apparently this blond woman that keeps getting captured by necromancers wants to join us, the wonderful, world-renowned Frostpeak Stalkers.”
Ria: “Well, if she’s survived multiple captures by necromancers, she must have some serious guts! I say we give her a chance.”
Zora Fair-Child: “Oh, thank you! You won’t regret it, I promise. I may not be much of a fighter, but I can certainly offer moral support and witty banter!”

This “not much of a fighter” had a greatsword strapped to her back.

Jon: “You said you’re not a fighter?”
Zora Fair-Child: “Well, I didn’t say I’m not a fighter. I just haven’t had much experience with combat, what with being captured all the time. But I’m a quick learner, and I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty!”
Alva: “You know, Jon, I think she’ll make a fine addition to our group. After all, we can’t all be fierce warriors like Uthgerd here. A little variety might do us some good.”
Jon: “I, a wispy elf, happen to be the leader of this ragtag bunch of murderous people. As for you, miss, even though that conspicuous burn covers half of your face, you’re still quite beautiful, your hair is very pretty, and I like the spark in your eyes. I welcome you to the Frostpeak Stalkers. Maybe you’ll get to test the sturdiness of our beds.”
Zora Fair-Child: “Oh my, you certainly have a way with words, Jon! I’m flattered that you find me beautiful, despite my marred face. And I must say, you’re quite handsome yourself, for an elf.”

I loved this one already.

Uthgerd: “Careful there. Our leader here might seem like a charmer, but he’s got a bit of a reputation. But I suppose that’s part of his charm, isn’t it?”
Jon: “Yes, I suppose that the best word to describe my reputation is ‘philanderer.'”
Alva: “Well, if we’re being honest, I think we’re all here because we find a certain charm in Jon’s roguish ways.”
Zora Fair-Child: “Indeed, there’s something exciting about following a leader with a bit of a wild streak. It keeps things interesting!”
Jon: “Well, you beautiful woman despite that scar, let’s get you out of that cage. After we gather the remaining loot, let’s just head home.”
Zora Fair-Child: “Lead the way, my gallant hero! I’m eager to see what other adventures await us.”
Ria: “Just be careful not to get too starry-eyed, Zora. We’ve got a lot of fighting and danger ahead of us. But I suppose that’s half the fun, isn’t it?”

Weighed down with loot, like in other profitable outings, we exited the mountain pass and returned to the road. As we headed home, we were bothered by a few suicidal skeevers, but even the new woman contributed to obliterating them.

Jon: “This has been a wonderful evening. We conquered the hideout of a bunch of nasty necromancers, we defeated a whole bunch of zombies and skeletons, we gained a very powerful staff, and we recruited this Zora Fair-Child, who despite being a little kooky, seems cool.”
Uthgerd: “‘Little cookie’? Ha! She might be small, but she’s got the heart of a true Nord. I’ve seen her swing that greatsword like it’s nothing. She’ll fit right in.”
Alva: “Oh, don’t be so quick to judge, Uthgerd. Everyone’s got their secrets and surprises. Even the cute ones.”
Zora Fair-Child: “Thanks. I may look sweet, but I can assure you, I’m far from a delicate little treat. I’ve got scars and stories that would make even the toughest Nord shiver.”
Jon: “Anyway, never mind the interruption by that poor wolf that found itself severely overmatched.”
Sapphire: “Can’t let a few mangy beasts slow us down.”
Alva: “Indeed. Every challenge we face just makes us stronger. And as for the wolf, it’s the way of the wild. The strong survive.”
Jon: “Let’s continue toward our beautiful new home, Tundra Homestead, where we’ll store our loot, eat a warm dinner, and hopefully find some comfort and joy in bed.”
Sapphire: “A warm dinner and a soft bed sound like heaven after the day we’ve had.”
Alva: “Oh, you have no idea how much I crave a warm embrace after a long day of fighting.”
Jon: “Well, Alva, let me tell you, if you’re up for it tonight, you’re going to get a warm, gooey one.”
Alva: “Just what this cold heart of mine needs.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! Warm gooey embrace? You two keep your weird cuddling to yourselves. Some of us need our rest.”
Zora Fair-Child: “We all have our ways to unwind after a day like this.”
Jon: “Oh, look at that, in the distance: Whiterun, with Dragonsreach sticking out like a marvel of nature. We live close to a beautiful city, don’t we?”
Sapphire: “Yeah, it’s a sight to behold. But don’t let the beauty fool you. There’s always something darker hidden beneath the surface.”
Alva: “I’ve always loved Whiterun. It’s got a charm that just draws you in. But I agree with Sapphire. No matter how picturesque, every city has its shadows.”
Jon: “Oh, nothing but beauty! Those crickets chirping, the stars twinkling up above, and us returning home after a slaughter! This is the life.”
Uthgerd: “Enjoy the peace while it lasts, Jon. The night may be calm, but trouble’s always just around the corner. Best be ready for it.”
Zora Fair-Child: “The beauty of nature does have a way of soothing the soul.”

Back at home, after we stored the loot, I apologized to our Dunmer assassin Jenassa for completely forgetting to bring her along on this mission. Sorry, Jen.

Alva and I enjoyed some mead in a corner of the house.

Jon: “Alva, darling, you’ve been amazing this evening, shooting spells and launching yourself at draugr, skeletons, and necromancers. A fierce, unstoppable force of nature. A veritable dream.”
Alva: “Oh, aren’t you just the sweetest? I do have my moments, don’t I? It’s not every night you get to fling a necromancer around like a ragdoll. Quite the spectacle, even if I do say so myself. But let’s not forget, darling, we were all in that fight together. You with your spells, Uthgerd with that hunk of metal she calls an axe. It’s not just me out there, you know?”
Jon: “Well, right now it’s one of those nights in which it seems that it’s just you in the world.”
Alva: “Hmm. There’s something about the chaos of battle that makes everything else just… fade away. It’s you, the enemy, and the night. But then, when the fight’s over and the dust settles, you look around and realize you’re not alone. You’ve got friends, companions… a family, of sorts. And that, my dear, is worth all the necromancers in Skyrim.”

Jon: “Alva, let me be clear with you: I very much want us to get naked right now and slide together into bed. I want to hold you in my arms and share saliva as I plunge deep inside you until I come.”
Alva: “Well, well, aren’t you forward? But I like it. I’ve been waiting all evening for you to say something like that. Lead the way, darling. Let’s forget about necromancers and Nordic mead for a while. I want you, and I want you now. The bed’s waiting, and so am I. A whole lot of ‘plunging deep’ sounds like just what the healer ordered.”

• Previous part (31.5 – Jenassa’s journal)
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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 mighty Frostpeak Stalkers obliterated every last bandit that had occupied a fort near Whiterun. Thanks to the generous reward that the adventurer’s band received from the jarl, as well as the sold loot, they bought a small estate east of town.

One of my main roles in this life consisted on ensuring that our assassin Jenassa was pleased, so before she traveled to Riften alone, I approached her regarding our new situation.

Jon: “Jenassa, how do you feel about the fact that now, instead of having to wait around at a tavern for someone to hire you, you have a permanent residence that we have bought with our adventuring money?”
Jenassa: “It’s… different. I’ve never had a place to call my own before. Always moving from one job to the next, one tavern to another. This… feels more stable. 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: “You know, during your spare time, I wouldn’t mind if you went a bit soft. You have the right to just enjoy your life.”
Jenassa: “Enjoy my life? That’s a luxury I’ve never really had. But… I suppose there’s no harm in trying. Just don’t expect me to take up knitting or gardening. I’m a fighter, through and through.”
Jon: “Actually, what sort of hobby would you be into? Now that you have some spare time and you don’t have to be constantly looking for money to pay for lodging.”
Jenassa: “Hobby?”
Jon: “I mean, you know what a hobby is, right?”
Jenassa: “I know what a hobby is, I’ve just never had the time or inclination for one. But… if I were to choose, I suppose I’d continue honing my skills. Practice with different weapons, learn new techniques. That’s what I enjoy.”
Jon: “Fortunately, this home came with a foundry right outside. We can forge interesting implements of murder.”
Jenassa: “That could be useful. We could create custom weapons, tailored to our specific strengths and preferences. It’s worth considering.”
Jon: “Anyway, Jenassa, you have a corner of your own in this home, one with your own bed. Don’t hesitate to decorate it with posters and stuffed animals if you want.”
Jenassa: “Posters and stuffed animals? I’m not a child, Jon. But… I might consider a few practical decorations. Perhaps some maps or a weapon rack.”
Jon: “For a moment, I thought you were going to say the mounted heads of the people you have killed. Perhaps that’s what I will do.”
Jenassa: “I prefer to leave my kills behind me, not display them as trophies. But you can decorate your space however you see fit.”

Jon: “Well, Jenassa, I must say: it warms my heart to see you smile.”
Jenassa: “I’m not smiling. This is just my usual expression.”

I found Sapphire, our probable Thieves Guild member I convinced to join my adventurer’s band, alone in a corner of our base of operations, gazing out the window.

Jon: “How are you enjoying the headquarters of the Frostpeak Stalkers, a home to which you can return whenever you’re in the Whiterun hold?”
Sapphire: “It’s a fine place, I guess. Better than some of the holes I’ve crawled into over the years. And if it keeps me from sleeping in the rain, I’ll take it.”
Jon: “You do look quite comfortable here. Back in Riften, you always seemed on edge.”
Sapphire: “Don’t let appearances fool you. I’m always ready for trouble, even in a place like this. But you’re right, it’s a step up from the Bee and Barb.”
Jon: “You joined my team due to self-interest, which is completely understandable. I am motivated by self-interest as well. Are you satisfied by the new life I’ve shown you?”
Sapphire: “You’ve kept things interesting, I’ll give you that. And the gold doesn’t hurt either. As long as you keep delivering on your promises, I’ll stick around.”

I stepped closer and caressed her lower lip.

Jon: “I do wish for you to stick around for a good while.”
Sapphire: “Is that so? Well, you’ve managed to keep me around this long. I suppose we’ll see where this goes.”

I took Sapphire in my arms and kissed her.

Jon: “I’m sure you know I’ve wanted to do this ever since I saw you in that corner of the Bee and Barb.”
Sapphire: “You certainly took your time, didn’t you? I won’t say I haven’t been curious myself. But I wouldn’t get too comfortable if I were you. We’ve still got work to do, remember?”
Jon: “Not for a week. We’re taking it off. And there’ll be plenty of opportunities during those days for you and I to enjoy some time alone in one of these comfortable beds.”
Sapphire: “That’s a long time to lie low. But I suppose even I need a break every now and again, as long as you don’t slow me down too much.”
Jon: “Don’t you need someone in your life that doesn’t make you feel the need to be on your guard constantly?”
Sapphire: “I’ve learned the hard way that letting your guard down can get you killed. But maybe, just maybe, you’re different. Time will tell.”

Shortly after Jenassa returned from Riften with Ria in tow, I approached the latter as she was tending to the farm plot behind our home.

Jon: “Ria, I have to apologize to you. Back in Riften, we had that intimidation job thrown our way by Maven Black-Briar. Because you’re an honorable and principled person, I thought that you should sit that one out.”
Ria: “Jon, I appreciate your concern, but you don’t need to worry about me. I’m a Companion; we’re not just honorable, we’re also practical. We do what needs to be done for the good of the group. If that job was important for us, then I would’ve been there with you, no matter what it entailed.”
Jon: “I understand that now. Next time I will bring you along unless… Well, I’m not sure what circumstances would make you not want to come along.”
Ria: “I accept your apology, Jon. And don’t worry about it too much. We’re part of the same team, the Frostpeak Stalkers. We stick together through thick and thin. Just remember that in the future, alright?”

Suddenly, I realized I had forgotten something.

Jon: “Oh my fuck.”
Ria: “What’s wrong, Jon? Did something happen?”
Jon: “I left something on the stove, and it might be burned by now.”
Ria: “Ah, the joys of domestic life, eh? Don’t worry about it, Jon. Go take care of your cooking. We can continue our conversation later. And remember, if you need any help, you know where to find me.”

Throughout that week, as I cooked food or brewed potions, I had the opportunity to listen to my teammates bonding.

Jenassa: “I can always expect you to be awake when the sun’s barely up, Alva.”
Alva: “Well, when your idea of a beauty sleep involved a coffin for years upon years, sunrise tends to mess with your schedule. What about you, couldn’t sleep?”
Jenassa: “Sleep is a luxury, and I’ve learned to do without. Besides, someone needs to keep an eye out for trouble.”
Alva: “Trouble seems to follow our little group like a lost puppy. But I suppose that’s part of the charm. How’s that sword arm of yours holding up?”
Jenassa: “Ready for whatever comes next. I’ve had worse from training alone. What about you? How’s the whole… blood situation?”
Alva: “Managed to snag a bite before turning in. I’m learning to… pace myself. It’s strange, this feeling of almost belonging somewhere. With Jon and the rest of you, it’s…”
Jenassa: “Don’t get too comfortable. Softness can get you killed out here. We’re not playing house; we’re surviving. Remember that.”
Alva: “Oh, trust me, I haven’t forgotten what I am or what I’ve done.”
Jenassa: “Just stay sharp. This crew… it’s not like anything I’ve been part of before. It’s good, but it can make you drop your guard.”
Alva: “Your concern is touching, really. I’ll keep my wits about me, don’t worry. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll let this… ‘crew’ surprise me.”
Jenassa: “Surprise you? With what, their inability to stop talking?”
Alva: “With their stubborn optimism, their… loyalty. It’s almost enough to make you forget the darkness for a bit.”
Jenassa: “Darkness is always there. It’s just a matter of how you navigate it.”
Alva: “Well, with Jon leading the way, at least it’s an interesting path.”
Jenassa: “Interesting is one word for it. Let’s just hope it doesn’t lead us straight into a draugr crypt next time.”
Alva: “With our luck? I wouldn’t bet against it.”

Sapphire seemed to take an interest in the youngest member of our group.

Fastred: “I still can’t believe we’re doing this. One minute I’m tending to cabbages, the next I’m in some bandit fort picking through their stuff.”
Sapphire: “Welcome to the life of an adventurer. It’s not all glamour and gold. Sometimes it’s blood and dirt. You get used to it.”
Fastred: “I thought I knew what I was getting into. I knew it would be different from hunting game, but actually having to fight people, seeing them die by your hand… it’s not something you can really prepare for.”
Sapphire: “It won’t be the last time. You can’t go into this half-cocked. You need to be ready for anything.”
Fastred: “I know, and I want to be ready. I just didn’t expect it to feel like this.”
Sapphire: “Like what?”
Fastred: “Like… like my whole world’s been turned upside down. Everything’s changing so fast. I’m changing.”
Sapphire: “That’s life, kid. You adapt or you die. Especially in this line of work.”
Fastred: “I guess you’re right. It’s just a lot to take in.”
Sapphire: “It is. But you’ve got a good crew, as well as a good head on your shoulders. You’re smart, you’re capable. Just keep your wits about you and you’ll do fine.”
Fastred: “I’ll try. I know I can do this, it’s just… a lot.”
Sapphire: “It is. But you’re not alone. You’ve got a good group around you. Stick with them, watch their backs, and you’ll do fine.”
Fastred: “Thanks, Sapphire. I appreciate it. And maybe someday, I’ll be as tough as you.”

Uthgerd seemed eager to take Fastred under her wing.

Uthgerd: “Fastred, you’ve come a long way from your past as a farm girl in Ivarstead. How are you finding life with the Frostpeak Stalkers?”
Fastred: “It’s been… different.”
Uthgerd: “Hmm, it’s not an easy life, but it’s ours. You’re doing well, kid. Just remember to stay sharp.”
Fastred: “I will. Thanks, Uthgerd. It means a lot coming from you. I just… I suppose I never thought I’d take a life, you know? Even if they were bandits.”
Uthgerd: “Out here, it’s often them or us. You did what you had to do.”
Fastred: “Yeah, I guess so. It’s just… a lot to take in.”
Uthgerd: “That it is. You’ve got a good heart, Fastred. Don’t lose that. But also don’t let it make you hesitate when it counts.”
Fastred: “I’ll try not to. I want to be strong, like you and the others.”
Uthgerd: “You are strong, in your own way. Just keep learning and growing. That’s what this life is all about. You’ll find your place here.”
Fastred: “What about Jon? He’s so reckless sometimes…”
Uthgerd: “Aye, he can be a handful. But, he’s one of us. We look out for each other, no matter what. That’s what being part of a crew is all about. Just remember, Fastred, you’re one of us now. We’ve got your back, and we’ll face whatever comes our way together.”
Fastred: “Thanks, Uthgerd. I’m glad I’m here. It’s the life I’ve chosen.”
Uthgerd: “That’s the spirit, kid.”
Fastred: “I can’t believe we actually have our own place now! Tundra Homestead is so much more than I ever dreamed of when I was stuck back in Ivarstead.”
Uthgerd: “It’s a good stronghold. Plenty of room for training and storing our gear. And it’s ours, earned with blood and sweat.”
Fastred: “I still can’t get over how brave you all were at Fort Greymoor. The way you charged into battle, Uthgerd… it was incredible! I wish I could be that fearless.”
Uthgerd: “You’re brave in your own way, Fastred. It takes guts to leave everything behind and join a band of adventurers. Keep practicing with that bow of yours, and you’ll be a force to be reckoned with.”
Fastred: “I will! Bassianus has been helping me practice every day. I want to pull my weight in the Frostpeak Stalkers.”
Uthgerd: “We all fight together, no one gets left behind. Now, let’s talk about tomorrow’s training. I want you to focus on…”

Our heavy-hitters Uthgerd and Jenassa got to know each other better.

Uthgerd: “So, Jenassa, how do you feel about our new home, Tundra Homestead?”
Jenassa: “It serves its purpose. A base is necessary for any group, especially one as active as ours.”
Uthgerd: “You don’t seem too thrilled about it. I thought you’d appreciate not having to find lodging in towns anymore.”
Jenassa: “I do. It’s just… I’ve never had a place to call my own before. It’s an odd feeling.”
Uthgerd: “Well, you better get used to it. We’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”
Jenassa: “I suppose you’re right. Anyway, I’m going to check on my gear. Just making sure everything’s in order.”
Uthgerd: “Always the professional. But don’t forget, we’re a team now. There’s more to life than just the job.”
Jenassa: “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Uthgerd: “You do that. And who knows, maybe one day you’ll actually enjoy our little chats.”
Jenassa: “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! Baby steps, then.”

Jenassa: “You seem to be settling in here well, Uthgerd. I’ve noticed your armor and sword are looking sharper than usual.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, the foundry and smelter here are top-notch. It’s good to have a place to call our own. You’re looking more at ease yourself, Jenassa. Given any more thought to what we discussed?”
Jenassa: “About taking up a hobby? I’m still not sure. Honing my combat skills has always been my focus. But, I’ll admit, having a steady place to rest does change things.”
Uthgerd: “It’s not a weakness to enjoy yourself outside of battle, Jenassa. It’s about balance. We fight hard, we should rest well.”
Jenassa: “Maybe you’re right. But don’t expect me to start knitting or gardening. I need something with a bit more… edge.”
Uthgerd: “Hah! I’d like to see that. You, tending to a garden. No, I imagine you’d be better suited to something more intense. Have you ever thought about smithing?”
Jenassa: “I have. It could be useful to know how to repair and maintain my own equipment.”
Uthgerd: “That’s the spirit! And who knows, you might find it as satisfying as I do. There’s something about forging your own blade that makes it feel all the more a part of you when you wield it in battle.”
Jenassa: “I’ll think on it. Maybe I’ll give it a try someday.”
Uthgerd: “You should. And if you need any tips, you know where to find me.”
Jenassa: “I appreciate it, Uthgerd. Perhaps there’s more to this life than just the next fight.”
Uthgerd: “That’s what I’ve been saying. We’ll make a well-rounded adventurer out of you yet, Jenassa.”
Jenassa: “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m still the best bladeswoman in this group.”
Uthgerd: “Hah! We’ll see about that. I might just challenge you to a friendly spar later.”
Jenassa: “I look forward to it.”

After a week of lazing about, I decided to gather my whole team in the living room for a meeting.

Jon: “This week that we took off to settle down has been magical. I feel that we’re truly a band of adventurers with bonds forged in blood. I wanted to say that I’m glad to know each and every one of you.”
Sapphire: “Well, isn’t this touching? I suppose there’s a first time for everything, even for a soft-hearted Altmer like you.”
Jenassa: “Agreed. It’s been… different. But not unpleasant.”
Bassianus: “Can’t deny it’s been a hell of a ride. Never thought I’d see the day when I’d be part of something like this. Fastred and I, we’re in your debt, Jon.”
Fastred: “It’s true. We’ve found a home here, with all of you.”
Jon: “Do any of you want to say something to the entire group, before we resume our adventures?”
Uthgerd: “We’ve fought together, bled together, and damn near died together. There’s no stronger bond than that.”
Alva: “I may not be a warrior like the rest of you, but I’ve seen the strength and courage in each of you. It’s… inspiring.”
Fastred: “I never dreamed I’d be part of something so… so extraordinary. Thank you, all of you, for accepting me, for…”
Bassianus: “… for giving us a chance. We won’t let you down.”
Jon: “Well, now I will interrupt this session to inform you that after the provisions we have consumed this week, added to the money we spent on this house, we are truly and utterly broke. I have been looking through my notes to figure out what leads we could follow to earn good loot somewhat nearby.”
Jenassa: “No matter. We’ll find work. There’s always someone who needs a problem solved or a throat slit.”
Bassianus: “Yeah, don’t worry about it, Jon. We’ll figure something out.”
Fastred: “We’ve faced worse odds than this. We’ll manage.”
Alva: “I might have a few ideas. There are always whispers in the shadows, rumors of hidden treasures and forgotten ruins.”
Jon: “Listen, I’m trying to decide between two rumors to follow. I’ll put them out there for you, and I expect you lot to vote for whichever you prefer. Here’s the first one: ‘On the road to Whiterun, I encountered and killed a hostile orc besieged by bandits, and on his body was a ledger that offered additional clues. According to the ledger, the current owners of the staff are two necromancers holed up in Brittleshin Pass.’ I expect those necromancers to have powerful artifacts, so we may as well kill them and steal their stuff. Here’s the second rumor that I wanted to follow: ‘I received a note from a vassal of the Bloodfall Queen stating a group of bandits have stolen her weapon. I should head to Lost Knife Hideout to see what’s become of it.’ We may need to eliminate lots of bandits.”
Sapphire: “Necromancers, bandits… both sound like easy targets. I say we go after the necromancers first. Who knows what kind of valuables they might have?”
Jenassa: “Agreed. Necromancers often have rare ingredients and artifacts. It’s a risk, but the reward could be greater.”
Bassianus: “Yeah, I’m with Sapphire and Jenassa. Let’s hit the necromancers first.”
Fastred: “I’ll follow your lead, Jon. But the necromancers do sound like they might have more to offer.”
Jon: “Uthgerd, Alva, in case you prefer bandits… Wait, who didn’t speak about this already?”
Uthgerd: “I’m with the others. Necromancers are a bigger challenge, and that means better loot.”
Alva: “I can’t fight like the rest of you, but… I agree. Necromancers tend to have more secrets, more hidden away. It’s worth the risk.”
Jon: “Very well, necromancers it is. Now that we have a base of operations, we can prepare our gear and provisions properly, and leave the rest here.”
Sapphire: “Necromancers mean undead. Fire is our friend here. Let’s stock up on fire salts and oil.”
Jenassa: “And silver weapons, if we have them. They’ll be useful against any undead we encounter.”
Bassianus: “POTIONS! Lots and lots of potions.”
Fastred: “And something to ward off the cold. It’s chilly in those passes.”
Uthgerd: “A good, strong weapon and sturdy armor are all I need. But the rest of you make good points.”

We didn’t want to leave Alva behind, particularly because we could use her against necromancers holed up in a cave, but we also didn’t want to head there in the dark, so she geared up in full armor, including gloves and a mask, to ensure no sunray burned her.

As we headed to Brittleshin Pass, east of Whiterun, Jenassa and Sapphire had a little chat regarding our recent bloodbath at Fort Greymoor.

Sapphire: “We’ve both seen our share of death and come out on top. It changes you.”
Jenassa: “It does. Makes you harder, sharper. Or it breaks you.”
Sapphire: “I like to think it’s made me stronger. Smarter. But the shadows… they have a way of getting under your skin.”
Jenassa: “The shadows are my ally. They’re where I’m most at home.”
Sapphire: “I can see that about you. Just be careful they don’t consume you.”
Jenassa: “I could say the same to you.”
Sapphire: “Anyway, enough of this grim talk. We’ve got work to do.”
Jenassa: “Agreed. Let’s focus on the task at hand. The sooner we’re done, the sooner we get paid.”

Past the old watchtower, we came across a burned-down house by the side of the road. We examined the damage, and found a charred corpse in what used to be the house’s main room. It seems that the local authorities hadn’t bothered to investigate this place. In the back of the structure, partially hidden in the grass, we spotted a cellar door. As if we didn’t have anything better to do, we decided to check it out. Turns out that the cellar was a narrow, winding tunnel dug in the bedrock. At one dead end we found a chest, but it was guarded by a huge scorpion. Or perhaps the scorpion just happened to be there, because it didn’t seem too eager to attack us. Too bad for that creature. The chest’s most intriguing content was a staff that shot flames.

Jon: “Well, now we are the owners of a staff of flames. Do any of you want to wield it?”
Ria: “Oh, I’ve always wanted to try out a magic staff!”
Fastred: “It sounds powerful, but isn’t it a bit dangerous?”
Uthgerd: “Danger is just part of the job, Fastred. But if you’re not up for it, hand it over. I’ll put it to good use.”
Alva: “I don’t need it. My vampiric powers are enough for me.”
Jon: “Yeah, I don’t see Uthgerd with that staff. Ria, I’m handing it over to you.”
Ria: “Thanks, Jon! I’ll give it a swing.”
Jenassa: “Just don’t set yourself on fire, Ria. Or any of us, for that matter.”
Fastred: “Yeah, be careful. That thing looks like it packs a punch.”

On our way back to the cellar door, we realized that the path diverged. Unwilling to leave it unexplored, we ventured further in, only to find ourselves attacked by hovering tentacle monsters that zipped around fast and bit at us with their beaks. Fortunately they fell to our blades and a combination of Destruction spells, but I couldn’t tell what they were weak to. Even as those monsters lay dead at our feet, I could barely make out their features. A shiver ran down my spine.

Jon: “These things are horrifying. I’m not particularly keen to continue exploring the tunnels.”
Fastred: “I’ve never seen anything like them either, Jon. But we can’t just turn back now. We’ve come so far, and there’s bound to be something valuable down here.”
Jenassa: “Agreed. We’re the Frostpeak Stalkers, not some milk-drinking novices. Let’s show these tentacle beasts what we’re made of.”
Sapphire: “Nice one, Jenassa. I’m with you on that. This place gives me the creeps, but I’m not about to let it get the best of me.”
Alva: “I’m ready for whatever comes our way. These monsters may be different, but they still bleed, right?”
Jon: “They bleed and die, indeed. But I don’t like tentacles. They’re gross and disgusting.”
Ria: “Well, nobody said every enemy we face would be pleasant to look at, Jon. We’ve fought worse and come out on top.”
Bassianus: “Exactly. We should focus on the task at hand. These tunnels must lead somewhere, and I’m curious to see where.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, and if there’s more treasure, I’m all for it. But we should stay sharp. These caves could be a death trap.”

Bulbous masses of flesh bulging out of the monsters’ undersides called out to me. I reaped them with my blade.

Jon: “Well, at least their testicles look like they may have some alchemical properties.”
Fastred: “Eww! You’re really going to touch those? I guess if they have alchemical properties, it could be useful.”
Jenassa: “A resource is a resource, Fastred. In our line of work, you learn to take what you can get.”
Sapphire: “Yeah, never know when some freaky testicle potion might save your life.”
Alva: “I’ll take your word for it, Jon. I’m more interested in finding our way out of here.”
Jon: “I don’t know about you all, but I got in this line of work to fondle the testicles of tentacle monsters.”
Ria: “Is that… really why you’re here, Jon? I thought we were supposed to be heroes or something.”
Bassianus: “Every hero has their own reasons, Ria. If Jon finds joy in testicle fondling, who are we to judge?”
Uthgerd: “Speak for yourself, Bassianus. I’m here to crack skulls and drink mead. But I suppose there’s no accounting for taste.”
Jon: “I can’t tell anymore if you lot are aware of my sarcasm. I’m just ripping these testicles because they might prove advantageous in the future. I don’t like them any more than you do.”
Fastred: “Ouch, Jon! We’re just messing with you. Nobody thinks you actually like fondling monster bits.”
Sapphire: “We all know you’ve got your eyes on the prize, whatever that may be down here.”
Alva: “Let’s just focus on moving forward and finding our way out. Arguing won’t get us anywhere.”

The tunnels twisted and turned, leading us to many dead ends. Whoever made the tunnels, assuming a sentient creature did, didn’t find what they were looking for.

Jon: “After wandering around for this long and messing with so many testicles, I think I’m going to vomit. I need to find the exit, and quick.”
Ria: “Aha! A challenge! Leave it to me, Jon. My senses are sharp, and I’ll find our way out in no time.”
Bassianus: “And if we run into more of those tentacle beasts, we’ll deal with them swiftly. You won’t have to fondle any more testicles than necessary.”
Uthgerd: “That’s the spirit! Just point me towards the exit, and I’ll barrel through anything in our way.”
Jon: “Bassianus, when I offered you to join our band of adventurers, I knew I could count on you to prevent me from fondling an excessive number of testicles.”
Bassianus: “Ha! Happy to be of service, Jon. I’ll ensure your testicle-fondling is kept to a minimum. We’ve got more important things to do, after all.”
Jon: “Yeah, like finding the damnable exit of these tunnels.”
Alva: “Agreed. Let’s get moving, then. No more dawdling, and definitely no more testicle fondling.”

We finally clambered out of those tunnels and breathed the fresh, foggy air of the Whiterun hold.

Jon: “My goodness, I don’t want to see another testicle for the rest of my life!”
Ria: “Ha! That’s one way to put it. But we made it, and that’s what matters most.”
Bassianus: “Aye, and just in time for the evening air. Nothing like a little adventure to whet the appetite.”

We continued to the point of the road where the map indicated the we should abandon its safety to head southward, to an entrance into the mountain that the locals called Brittleshin Pass for reasons. No signs of necromancers so far.

Jon: “Well, here we are. Any strategy when it comes to entering a cave likely plagued with necromancers?”
Uthgerd: “We’ve faced worse than a few bone-rattlers in our time. Stick close, watch each other’s backs, and we’ll clear this place out in no time.”
Alva: “Hmm, these necromancers might be more trouble than they’re worth. But I suppose there’s no fun in backing down now. Just stay sharp.”
Jenassa: “Keep your wits about you. Necromancers are not to be underestimated. We move quietly and strike fast.”
Jon: “What would be the best protection against necromancers?”
Ria: “Well, that blue mountain flower you just picked up can be used to make potions that increase your magicka resistance. That might help against their spells. But steel in your hand and your friends at your back: that’s the best protection.”

• Previous part (31.5 – Alva’s journal)
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Here are the most recent entries from the journal of Jenassa, member of the Frostpeak Stalkers:

I am Jenassa, a lethal instrument of death, blade and shadow, silence and skill honed to deadly precision. For a modest sum, I offer my services, for I am an artist of death, and like all artists, I seek a patron to inspire my craft. My dark red eyes have witnessed more battles than most could ever dream of surviving, and my hands are steady, whether they wield an iron sword, a dagger, or a hunting bow. Stealth and archery are my companions, just as much as one-handed weapons and a shield. Magic? I leave that to those who prefer such fragile power. I rely on steel and the shadows.

You will find me at The Drunken Huntsman in Whiterun, my preferred haunt when I am not on a mission. There, amidst the scent of mead and the camaraderie of hunters, I rest. Elrindir and Anoriath, the Bosmer brothers who run the place, know well the kind of company I keep and the work I do. They ask no questions, and neither should you, unless you seek to hire me.

I have no qualms with bloodshed. I welcome it. Violence courses through my veins as surely as any Dunmer fire. My price is fair, and in return, I am yours to command. Should you desire to commit crimes, do so; I will not stand in your way. Should you wish to dispatch a foe, name them; I will deliver them to their grave. I am the shadow at your back, the death in the night.

While I despise the confines of caves and mines, my interest in Dwemer relics keeps me delving into places I would rather avoid. But understand this: I loathe the undead. There is no enemy more foul than a walking corpse, and I would see them all returned to the dirt where they belong.

You will find my words as sharp as my blades, for I waste neither breath nor time on frivolities. My communication is terse, direct. Some mistake this for rudeness; I call it efficiency. Yet, for those who prove themselves strong and tactically adept, who earn my respect, they may find there is more to me than just a killer’s heart. Perhaps even love… but do not think that I would ever settle down as some meek housewife. Even in love, I am a warrior. My place is by your side, in battle, where we can carve our legend together. If you are wise, you will recognize the value of having me at your side, for I am a hunter of men, and there is no prey more challenging or more rewarding.

Recently, an Altmer mage named Jon approached me, seeking my services. A curious fellow, that one. He seemed to think he could haggle over my fee, despite my warning that I do not negotiate. He came back later and attempted to haggle again, believing that because the local warrior Uthgerd the Unbroken, a sturdy Nord woman, had joined him, I would be enticed to reduce my fee. To his credit, though, in the end he offered an apology for wasting my time. A couple of days later, Jon returns, this time with that headstrong Nord warrior Uthgerd, and a Companion fledgling named Ria. Jon claimed that their recent adventures had filled his pockets enough to meet my price. What a peculiar character; Jon wears his thoughts on his sleeve, speaks every fleeting notion that crosses his mind, and has a lust for women so blatant it’s almost laughable. It’s as if he’s assembling a harem rather than an adventurer’s band. I’ll admit, I find him a bit of a fool, but an intriguing one. He’s paid my fee, so I will lend him my murderous arts, wherever his little band leads. I wonder how long before his foolishness gets the better of him.

During my first outing with Jon’s ragtag band, we found ourselves scaling the mountain and delving into the ancient ruin of Bleak Falls Barrow, just for the thrill of it. I won’t lie, it was the kind of challenge that gets the blood pumping. We cut through a dozen bandits, slew a horde of draugr, took down a giant spider. Solving puzzles, avoiding traps… Jon even decided to run through two swinging blade traps just to pull the lever that would disable them. Reckless, no doubt, but there was something endearing about it. The fool clearly cares about keeping us alive, even if he has to risk his own neck to do it.

Before we faced the final challenge, a draugr overlord, I made it clear: if I fall in battle, I want my body returned to the Rift, to my kin, to be buried according to Dunmer rites. The battle was fierce, but we brought the draugr boss down together, and afterward, I found myself joking around with the others, something I don’t often do. There was a sense of camaraderie that I hadn’t felt in a long time. As we exited the ancient ruins, Jon told me that if I ever become a grandmother and he’s still around, he’ll track me down and bring expensive gifts for my grandchildren. I laughed it off, but I intend to hold him to that promise.

Ah, Jon, that fool with a heart of gold. So, you want to know about the Frostpeak Stalkers? Well, that’s what we ended up calling ourselves. Jon’s idea, mostly. I’ll admit, it’s got a ring to it. Something about it says fierce, unyielding, and maybe a little wild, like the icy peaks of Skyrim itself. Not a bad name, really. We were sitting around after a tough battle, Uthgerd, Ria, Alva, Jon, and me. Jon, bless him, started throwing out all sorts of names, most of them ridiculous. But then we got to talking seriously, and “Frostpeak Stalkers” stuck. It just fit. We’re not just a bunch of random adventurers anymore; we’re something more… a force to be reckoned with.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m still a sellsword. I fight for coin, and that hasn’t changed. But Jon… he’s different from the others I’ve worked for. He didn’t just pay my fee and order me around; he brought me into something that feels almost like a family. As much as I hate to admit it, he cares about me, asks for my opinion, even about things like the name of our band. And that’s not something I’m used to.

I’ve fought and killed for many employers, but Jon? He’s got this way of making you feel like you’re more than just a blade for hire. Maybe one day we’ll part ways, and that’ll be that. But for now, I’m part of the Frostpeak Stalkers, and I’ve got no regrets about it. We’re fierce, we’re loyal, and we take on whatever this harsh land throws our way. If you’re smart, you’ll remember that name. It might just be the last thing your enemies ever hear.

Ah, I suppose I should mention the incident near Helgen. It was one of those jobs that seemed straightforward: clear out an ancient ruin with Jon, Ria, and Uthgerd. We’ve faced countless draugr, bandits, and other unsavory creatures in the past, so I didn’t expect this to be any different. We were efficient, as usual, cutting down the opposition with practiced ease. But after we exited the ruin, we were ambushed by something far worse: a wispmother. If you’ve never encountered one, count yourself lucky. It’s a swirling vortex of icy death with the form of a female spirit, and it’s not the sort of opponent you want to meet.

The wispmother’s cold magic hit us hard. Before I knew it, I was on the ground, half-frozen, barely conscious. I remember seeing Ria and Uthgerd in a similar state. My first thought, as ridiculous as it might sound, was that this couldn’t be how it ends. Not for me. Not like this. I’d survived too much, fought too many battles, to die at the hands of some ethereal specter. But I could feel the life slipping from me, the cold seeping into my bones.

When I finally regained consciousness, it was to the sight of Jon, slumped against a wall, looking more troubled than I’d ever seen him. The fool had taken on the wispmother alone and, by some miracle, or sheer stubbornness, had managed to defeat it. He was exhausted, battered, but alive. As were we, thanks to him.

My first instinct, I’ll admit, was to lash out. I was furious at Jon for dragging us into that situation, for not anticipating the ambush, for nearly getting us all killed. But deep down, I knew that my anger wasn’t really aimed at him. It was aimed at myself. I should have known better. With all my years of experience, all the battles I’ve fought, how could I have let myself be caught off guard like that? It was a bitter pill to swallow, realizing just how close I’d come to death, and it wasn’t Jon’s fault: it was mine. He may be a fool, but he saved my life that day, and for that, I owe him. I’m not one to show gratitude easily, but it’s there, beneath the surface. I won’t forget that he saved me, even if I’m not keen to admit it.

After that, things changed a bit. I still fight for coin, and I’m still the deadly instrument of death I’ve always been. But there’s a small part of me that recognizes Jon as more than just an employer now. He’s earned a bit more of my respect, even if I’d never say it to his face. We’re still the Frostpeak Stalkers, still a force to be reckoned with, but I’d be lying if I said that encounter didn’t shake me a little. Reminded me that no matter how skilled or experienced you are, there’s always something out there that can bring you to your knees. I won’t let it happen again. Not if I can help it.

Let me tell you about this recent bit of absurdity. We were at the inn in Ivarstead, just taking a breather, when Jon caught some local redhead, barely out of his twenties, giving him the stink eye. Now, Jon’s many things, but subtle isn’t one of them. He walked right up to the kid and demanded to know what his problem was. Turns out, the lad, Bassianus Axius, as we later learned, had the nerve to get mouthy with Jon. And wouldn’t you know it, he pulled a knife, thinking he’d settle things the hard way.

Uthgerd and I were on him before he could blink, beat the fight right out of him. But instead of leaving it at that, Jon, in all his bleeding-heart glory, wanted to know why Bassianus was so bitter. The kid spilled his guts, said he felt trapped in that small town, wanted to be an adventurer, and was head over heels for some local girl named Fastred. Her father didn’t approve, said Bassianus was a good-for-nothing, and wanted Fastred to stick around and work the farm. Typical small-town nonsense.

So, what does Jon do? He offers the lad a place in our band, says he’ll train him up to be an adventurer. Bassianus, the fool, jumped at the chance like we’d handed him a golden ticket. But Jon didn’t stop there. No, he decided to play matchmaker too. Dragged Bassianus to Fastred’s father and practically forced the old man to let his daughter leave with us. I’ve seen all sorts of madness in my time, but that was something else. Fastred’s father was left in tears, watching his daughter march off with us.

Now, we’ve got Bassianus and Fastred tagging along as the newest members of the Frostpeak Stalkers. And let me tell you, it’s quaint, in that troublesome sort of way. I’ve spent years honing my skills, perfecting my craft. Precision, discipline, efficiency, that’s what I value. And now we’re dragging along a pair of young dreamers who’ve barely seen the world beyond their village. It’s enough to throw a wrench into the well-oiled killing machine we were becoming.

But…here’s the thing. As much as I want to keep this group sharp and ready for anything, I can’t help but notice how we’re becoming more than just a bunch of mercenaries. We’re starting to feel like a family. A dysfunctional one, sure, but a family all the same. Jon’s heart, foolish as it might be, seems to have a way of bringing us all together, caring for each other’s well-being, not just physically but mentally too. I suppose in a group like this, taking in strays like Bassianus and Fastred is bound to happen. Kindness, as strange as it sounds, seems to be something we’re not short of, despite the blood on our hands.

You want to hear about the latest chapter in the saga of the Frostpeak Stalkers? Fine, let’s talk about it. After our little brush with death and the dance with that wispmother, we found ourselves back in Whiterun. Jon, ever the idealist with his head in the clouds, decided he wanted to do some official work for the Jarl. Said he wanted to earn enough coin to buy a home, a proper base of operations for us.

Now, I’m not one to get sentimental about a roof over my head. I’ve slept in ditches, caves, and on more tavern floors than I care to count. But Jon? He had this idea that if we had a place to call our own, we’d be stronger for it. Maybe he’s right. Can’t say I’ve ever had the luxury of a permanent spot to lay my head, but I wasn’t about to argue. The Jarl, Balgruuf, likely wanting to test our mettle, sent us to clear out a fort that had been overrun by bandits.

The Frostpeak Stalkers? We didn’t just clear that fort; we slaughtered the lot of them. No mercy, no hesitation. When the dust settled, Jarl Balgruuf and his ever-watchful housecarl, Irileth, seemed pleased enough with our handiwork. They rewarded us handsomely and granted us the right to purchase property within the city.

Jon, bless his optimistic heart, chose Tundra Homestead. It’s a small estate on the outskirts, with workshops, farm plots, and more space than we’ll ever need to stash our gear. And so, here we are: a sellsword, a mage, a couple of warriors, and now even a pair of starry-eyed dreamers from Ivarstead, calling this place home.

I’ll admit, having a place to retreat to after a job isn’t the worst idea Jon’s had. And this place, Tundra Homestead, it’s… nice. Too nice, almost. I’ve got my own little corner, a space that’s mine, surrounded by people I’ve come to care about. The truth is, this is new for me, having a place, a home, and something that feels dangerously close to family.

But I won’t lie to you. It worries me. There’s a part of me that’s afraid of getting too comfortable, of getting soft. The life I lead, the life I’ve chosen, doesn’t allow for softness. But this feeling… this sense of belonging, of having a place and people to care about, it’s something I find myself wanting to hold on to.

So, what now? We’ve got a home, a name that’s starting to mean something in this harsh land, and a leader with more heart than sense. We’re the Frostpeak Stalkers, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that in this group, you either adapt or get left behind. I’m not one to get left behind. Not now, not ever.

• Previous part (31.5 – Uthgerd’s journal)
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Here are the most recent entries from the journal of Alva, member of the Frostpeak Stalkers:

Oh, how amusing life has become since I found myself in the company of Jon. I used to call Morthal home, as much of a home as it could be for someone like me: a beautiful Nord woman with flowing dark hair, parading around in that scandalous barmaid outfit, luring in men and women alike with just a bat of my lashes. The townsfolk, bless them, were none the wiser to the monster that slept beneath their feet during the day. They were my cattle, mere sustenance to keep my undead life going. Hroggar, the poor fool, was one of my favorites: a lumberjack, strong and simple. I turned him into my thrall, and he guarded me while I slept in my coffin, oblivious to the horrors that surrounded him.

But a creature like me easily grows tired of the mundane. Gathering plants, picking mushrooms, brewing potions… oh, how dreary it all was. Morthal needed something thrilling, and I was more than happy to provide it. Movarth sent me to establish a presence there, to seduce and enthrall the town’s men, and eventually, the rest of his coven would move in to feast on the town’s blood. Movarth made me what I am: a vampire, a creature of the night, forever bound to the darkness. I despise what I’ve become, despise the very thing I once feared. But no matter where I go, Movarth would always find me, his grip like an executioner’s axe hanging over my head.

Deep down, a part of me craved more than just blood and power. A part of me wanted to be loved, to be free of Movarth’s control. That’s why Jon intrigued me so. An Altmer mage, he saw through my facade, discovered my true nature, and yet… he treated me like a person, not just a monster. When he exposed me to the townspeople, I was ready to slaughter them all, but Jon proposed something different: freedom. The idea was tantalizing, a chance to break free from this curse, to be something more than just Movarth’s puppet.

Together, we faced the master vampire in his lair, but the raid was a disaster. We were overpowered by Movarth’s minions, and we had to flee. Now, I find myself adventuring with Jon, free from Morthal. I find Jon entertainingly reckless, unpredictable, and for the first time in a long while, I feel… something. Perhaps there is a way out of this after all.

In the meantime, we’ve had our share of adventures. We even managed to conquer an ancient ruin, defeating a bandit group and a powerful spirit named “The Pale Lady.” Her relic sword, “The Pale Blade,” is mine now; a fitting weapon for a vampire like me. The thrill of these encounters has been exhilarating, far more satisfying than any bloodlust could ever be.

But even with Jon, I cannot escape what I am. I’m still a vampire, still bound to the night. And though I despise it, I cannot change it. Not yet. But with Jon, I can at least imagine what it would be like to be free: wild and untamed. Until then, I will continue to play my part, seducing, manipulating, surviving.

Life has taken an unexpected turn since I teamed up with Jon. I thought it would just be the two of us, roaming Skyrim, getting into trouble and having a grand old time. But, Jon had other plans. He’s always thinking a few steps ahead, always looking for an edge. So, he decided we needed more muscle, someone to watch our backs when things get dicey. Enter Uthgerd, this sturdy, head-strong Nord woman from Whiterun. At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about another person tagging along. But Uthgerd… She knows what I am, and yet, she doesn’t flinch at my fangs or the way my eyes flash in the dark. She meets my gaze with a steely confidence. It’s refreshing. There’s something comforting about not having to hide, at least around my allies.

And, honestly, it’s nice to have another woman around, especially one as tough as Uthgerd. We’re an odd trio, to be sure. Jon with his endless curiosity and reckless spells, Uthgerd with her greatsword and iron will, and me… well, me with my charms and shadows. We’ve become a bit of a family, I suppose. A dysfunctional, bloodthirsty, spell-slinging family, but a family nonetheless.

Just when I thought our little troupe couldn’t get any stranger, we ran into Ange, of all people. Yeah, that Ange: the traveling bard from Morthal. Back when my vampiric nature was exposed in Morthal, I thought it would end in bloodshed, but we managed to avoid that mess. So there Jon, Uthgerd and I were in Whiterun, just minding our own business, when Ange shows up, all curious about what Jon and I have been up to. She had that look in her eye, like she was itching for a story worth singing about. And before I knew it, she was tagging along on our little adventure, strumming her lute and keeping spirits high even when things got dicey. I thought I wouldn’t like having a bard around. I mean, what use is a song when you’re fighting off bandits or creeping through some forgotten crypt? But Ange… she grew on me. But like all good things, it didn’t last. We were ambushed by a pack of bandits, nothing we couldn’t handle, or so I thought. But Ange… she didn’t make it. One moment she was there, and the next… she was gone. I didn’t expect it to hit me so hard, but it did. It’s a damn shame, really.

Jon suddenly got into his head that our little band of misfits needed a proper name, something to really solidify our place as a force to be reckoned with. Uthgerd, Ria, Jenassa, and I all gathered around, each of us throwing out ideas, some better than others. Jon, bless him, tossed out some downright ridiculous suggestions: “Jon and the Amazing Band of Adventurers,” can you believe that? We all had a good laugh at that one.

But after all the banter and brainstorming, we landed on something that really spoke to me: “Frostpeak Stalkers.” Now that’s a name with some bite. It conjures up images of fierce hunters prowling through the icy mountains, doesn’t it? Exactly the kind of reputation we want to build, especially for someone like me who’s always had a bit of a predatory streak. And it’s not just about the name, either. The fact that Jon cared enough to get all our input, to make us feel like we’re part of something bigger, it’s… well, it’s a bit heartwarming. Not exactly something I’m used to, considering the whole vampire thing tends to keep me on the outskirts of trust and camaraderie. But with Jon, Uthgerd, Ria, and Jenassa, I actually feel like I belong to a little family, a dysfunctional, bloodthirsty, spell-slinging family, sure, but a family nonetheless.

And Jon, he’s so proud of that name. Keeps saying it over and over like he’s trying to carve it into the very mountains themselves. He did warn us we might get tired of hearing it, but I told him that when that happens, I’ll just tease him by reminding everyone of that first absurd name he proposed. Ah, the look on his face when I do… it’s priceless. Makes me almost forget about all the shadows lurking in my past.

So yeah, “Frostpeak Stalkers” it is. I like the sound of that. It’s intimidating, and it fits us perfectly. We’re not just some random group of adventurers; we’re a pack, hunting down whatever challenges Skyrim throws our way. And for the first time in a long while, I feel like I’m part of something… something more than just survival. I might be a creature of the night, but with the Frostpeak Stalkers, I’ve found a little sliver of light in all this darkness. And I’ll hold onto that as long as I can.

Just when I think our little ragtag band couldn’t get any more interesting, Jon goes and adds a whole new twist. We were at the inn in Ivarstead, just minding our business, when this local lad, red-haired, scowling like he’d just swallowed a bucket of nails, starts eyeing Jon with all the warmth of a frostbite spider. Turns out, his name’s Bassianus Axius, and for whatever reason, he’s got a bone to pick with Jon.

So, Jon being Jon, doesn’t just let it slide. Oh no, he walks right up to the guy and calls him out on it. Bassianus, bless him, gets all hot under the collar and pulls a knife on Jon! Can you imagine? About to lunge at him, too, but Uthgerd and Jenassa? They weren’t having any of that nonsense. They had the fight beaten out of him before he could even think twice.

Instead of letting the idiot nurse his bruises and limp home, Jon wants to know what’s got this guy so bitter. And what do you know? Bassianus spills his guts. Turns out, the poor sod feels trapped in Ivarstead, dreams of being an adventurer but sees no way out of that dreary little town. And, of course, there’s a girl involved: Fastred, a local beauty. He’s head over heels for her, but her father thinks Bassianus is a good-for-nothing and wants his precious daughter to stay put and work on the farm.

Jon, in all his reckless wisdom, decides that what we need is a new member: Bassianus! Yeah, you heard me right. Jon offers him a place in the Frostpeak Stalkers, and this Bassianus, well, he’s thrilled. He jumps at the chance, eager to escape his mundane life and prove he’s worth more than mucking out stables. But Jon doesn’t stop there. No, he drags Bassianus over to Fastred’s father, determined to show the old man that Bassianus is no longer some worthless boy but a member of a renowned band of adventurers. The poor father didn’t stand a chance against Jon’s persistence. He finally caved, tears and all, and had to watch as his daughter packed up and left town with us, Bassianus in tow.

So now, Fastred and Bassianus are the newest additions to our motley crew. I’ll admit, I find this whole situation rather exciting. There’s something intriguing about having a couple of young lovers among us. And that Fastred girl? Oh, she smells divine. Her blood… I just know it’s going to be delicious. Don’t worry, I’ll play nice… for now. After all, the Frostpeak Stalkers are growing in power, and it feels good to be part of something bigger, something that accepts me for what I am. A vampire among mortals, and they’re none the wiser. Or if they are, they don’t care. It’s a strange new world I find myself in, but I think I’m going to enjoy it.

Well, now things have really taken a turn, haven’t they? The Frostpeak Stalkers, our little dysfunctional family, are becoming something more than just a band of misfits. We’re getting involved in bigger things, like the time we had to intimidate a smuggler in Whiterun for Maven Black-Briar. Now, Maven is not someone you cross lightly, so when she sent us to deal with Mallus Maccius, a weasel of a man who’d crossed her, we knew we had to be on our A-game. Jon, always the thinker, decided we’d use a little subterfuge. And who better to play the doting wife than yours truly?

Oh, it was a blast, honestly. I dolled myself up, playing the perfect picture of a loving wife, all while seducing Mallus just enough to get him alone. Jon wished he could take one of Mallus’ balls as a trophy, but we didn’t need to spill any blood. We got the job done, and Mallus was left shaking in his boots, scared enough to make sure he wouldn’t cross Maven again.

Later that night, back at the Bannered Mare, we had a bit of fun reliving the day. Jon, Uthgerd, and I were sitting around, bellies full of good food and heads buzzing from a few drinks. We started teasing each other about how well I played the part of Jon’s wife, how I had Mallus practically drooling over me. Uthgerd tried to steer the conversation away from all that “girly talk,” as she called it, and onto something more up her alley, like dragon hunting. But Jon, ever the troublemaker, had other ideas. He threw out this little suggestion that maybe I should seduce Uthgerd next. Oh, you should have seen the look on her face. Priceless!

Jon went on, telling Uthgerd how I’d mentioned wanting to feel her strong hands on me while he made love to me. Poor Uthgerd, all that tough exterior just melted away, and she got flustered like a young girl. She even had to step outside for some air, trying to cool down. But we weren’t just teasing. When we offered to share a room for the night, she hesitated, but in the end, she knocked on our door, ready to join us.

And what a night it was. Uthgerd is as strong in bed as she is on the battlefield, and I enjoyed every moment of showing her the pleasures only a woman can give. It was thrilling, feeling her sturdy body under my hands, teaching her how to let go, how to enjoy every touch. By the end of it, the three of us were tangled up together, breathless and satisfied, sharing warmth in that small rented bed.

Lying there, with Jon on one side and Uthgerd on the other, I couldn’t help but think about how far I’ve come. Back in Morthal, I was always on edge, always hiding what I was, always afraid that someone would discover my secret and put a stake through my heart. But now… now I’m part of something. I’ve got Jon, who sees me for who I really am and still stays by my side. And Uthgerd, the strongest person I know, who accepts me, fangs and all. For the first time in a long time, I feel at ease. Maybe even happy. And that’s something I never thought I’d find again. But here I am, wrapped up in this strange little family we’ve created, holding onto this sliver of light in the darkness.

Oh, life with the Frostpeak Stalkers just keeps getting more interesting by the day. We found ourselves back in Whiterun, and Jon, always scheming, decided it was time we did something official for the Jarl. You know Jon: always thinking ahead, always trying to secure a bit more coin for his grand plans. This time, he’s got it in his head that we need a proper base of operations, somewhere to lay low and stash our gear. Can’t say I disagree, but I had to laugh when he started talking about settling down, as if we’re just another bunch of adventurers playing house.

Jarl Balgruuf, no fool himself, decided to test our mettle before he’d consider any kind of deal. He sent us off to clear out a fort that had been overrun by bandits, probably thinking we’d get ourselves killed, or at least prove ourselves worthy. So, off they went in daylight, and as they recounted to me afterwards, it was a bloody mess. The Frostpeak Stalkers fought like wolves, Uthgerd smashing skulls with that greatsword of hers, Jon throwing spells around like confetti.

When it was all said and done, they stood victorious. The Jarl and his housecarl, Irileth, were pleased, and they rewarded us handsomely. But the real prize? The right to buy a home in Whiterun. Jon, ever the practical one, set his sights on Tundra Homestead, a cozy little estate just outside the city. It’s got everything we could need: workshops, farm plots, plenty of room to stash our loot. But more than that, it feels like a place where I can finally rest. A place where I don’t have to hide what I am, where I’m surrounded by people who appreciate me, fangs and all.

I never thought I’d find a home like this, somewhere I could actually feel safe. But here I am, lying in a bed that’s all mine, with the warmth of the hearth keeping the chill at bay. It’s strange, feeling like I belong somewhere, but I have to admit, it’s not a bad feeling. And knowing that I’ll be fighting alongside them tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that, well… it almost makes me forget the darkness that still clings to me.

But I can’t forget, can I? I’m still a vampire, still cursed, still bound to the night. Yet, here in this little home on the outskirts of Whiterun, with Jon and the others by my side, I’ve found a sliver of peace. I’ll hold onto that as long as I can, because who knows when the shadows might come calling again. Until then, I’ll keep fighting, keep seducing, keep surviving. It’s what I do best, after all.

• Previous part (31)
• Next part (31.5 – Alva’s journal)

Here are the most recent entries from the journal of Uthgerd the Unbroken, member of the Frostpeak Stalkers:

I’ve lived in Whiterun for as long as I can remember. My home’s in the Wind District, just across from Carlotta Valentia’s place. You might have heard folks call me “Uthgerd the Unbroken,” and for good reason. I’m a proud Nord woman, tall and strong, with blue eyes and thick light brown hair that I keep out of my way when I’m swinging my sword. Most days, you’ll find me at The Bannered Mare, where Hulda serves the best mead this side of the mountains. But I make sure to keep my skills sharp, often venturing outside Whiterun to get a proper workout.

Once, I tried to join the Companions, those so-called legendary warriors over at Jorrvaskr. They asked me to prove my worth, and they threw me up against a boy barely old enough to have a hint of stubble on his chin. Thought they’d show me how weak a woman is, but I showed them instead. Except… it went too far. I didn’t mean to kill the boy. By Ysmir, why would I want that? It wasn’t my fault, but those cowards cried, “Too hot-headed,” and tossed me aside. Weak, pathetic lot. They couldn’t handle my strength.

Now, I’ve got no quarrel with most folks, but I won’t turn quarrel down neither. If you think you can go blade to blade with me, you’d best be ready, because I’ll have you dead in six seconds. And if you’ve got a mind for a proper fight, then you’d better leave your weapons, magic, and tears at the door. Just fists. You’ll know a true Nord woman when you’ve had a strong drink and a fistfight with her. Trust me on that.

And then there’s this Altmer, Jon. A few weeks ago he came up to me with some pale woman, Alva, by his side. Jon had the gall to call me “mommy.” Ha! As if I’d let some elf treat me like that. I told him straight: I’m a warrior, not his mother. If he wanted to push his luck, I’d knock him on his ass. And he did push, so we brawled. And by Ysmir, he beat me. I haven’t had a fight that good in years. Earned my respect, that one. Now, I’m with him and his companions. He’s even starting to feel like an honorary Nord to me. If you need a blade at your side, you ask me. I’ll show you what a real Nord woman can do. I’ll fight by your side loyally, so long as you’re worthy of that loyalty.

But Jon, well, he’s not just satisfied with collecting a ragtag band of adventurers. No, he wants us to be a force to be reckoned with, something that’ll earn glory and accolades across Skyrim. And sure, maybe he’s a bit of an egocentric fool sometimes, with his nasty jokes and philandering ways, but I know what really drives him: it’s that sting of defeat he felt back at Movarth’s Lair, when those damned vampires nearly finished him. He doesn’t want to be that weak again. I get that. So, I’ll stick with him, and together we’ll make sure no vampire, draugr, or anything else will ever get the better of us again.

We had a bard with us for a while. Ange was her name. A lively one, with a voice that could charm the snow off the Throat of the World. She knew Jon and Alva from back in Morthal, decided to tag along with us, curious to see how things would turn out. I respected her for that. Takes guts to walk into the unknown like that. But guts don’t mean a damned thing when steel and arrows are flying. We were in some narrow corridor, bandits pressing us hard, and just like that, Ange was gone. One moment she was singing some tune to keep our spirits up, the next, she’s a corpse on the cold ground.

That’s life in Skyrim, though, isn’t it? One day you’re dancing and singing, and the next you’re nothing but a memory. The only way to keep sane in this world is to keep looking ahead, keep fighting. You start thinking too much about what you’ve lost, you’ll end up losing your edge. And me? I’m not planning on going out like that.

The night Ange died, Jon got drunk and proposed something that caught me off guard: said we should celebrate life by having an intimate wrestling session, if you catch my drift. I hadn’t been with a man in a long time, most tend to get scared off, but I was grieving Ange in my own way, and I wanted to feel alive. So, I agreed. We went at it, and I didn’t hold back. I pinned him down, overpowered him, and found the whole experience exhilarating. There’s something about seeing him tremble under me that I can’t quite shake off.

And, strange as it sounds, I feel protective over that delicate mage. Jon’s a bumbling, careless, outrageous elf, but I guess there’s a side of me that sees him as something to guard. He stirs something maternal in me, which I usually bury deep. Don’t get me wrong: I wouldn’t mind having him under me in bed again, seeing him tremble in anticipation, but I know Jon. He’s an open book, and the last thing I need is everyone knowing about our little encounters. So, I keep my distance, but I’ll be damned if I don’t watch his back.

Recently, we went on a little adventure that I won’t be forgetting anytime soon. Jon, being his usual reckless self, got it in his head that we should scale the mountains and take on Bleak Falls Barrow, an ancient complex of ruins. Why? For the thrill of it, of course. He’s always chasing that next high, and, honestly, I can’t say I’m any different. So off we went, a right mix of us: me, Jon, Ria, and Jenassa. We were out there for blood, treasure, and whatever else those old ruins had to offer.

Bleak Falls Barrow was as dangerous as they come. A dozen bandits tried to stop us, but they were no match. Then there were the draugr; those undead bastards always put up a good fight. We even faced off against a giant spider that could’ve wrapped any of us up like a snack. But we cut through them all, one after the other. Puzzles, traps, you name it. Jon, that crazy elf, nearly got himself sliced in half trying to save me, Ria, and Jenassa from these swinging blade traps. He ran right through them, pulled the lever on the other side, and just grinned at us like it was nothing. I gotta admit, that took guts. I’ve never seen him so determined to keep us safe, and I couldn’t bring myself to mock him for it, not this time. Maybe that’s when I started seeing him a bit differently.

We pushed on, deeper into the ruins, and finally came face to face with the draugr overlord guarding the place. It was a tough fight, but we took him down. When it was all said and done, we shared the loot, and Jon, ever the clown, put on this ridiculous magical circlet we found. I couldn’t help but laugh. Proper, belly-aching laughter that I hadn’t felt in ages. It was like being a kid again, having fun just for the sake of it.

By the time we made it to Falkreath on the other side of the mountain, Jon had that glint in his eye, the one that says he’s up to something. He suggested we get a double bed for the night, and, after the day we’d had, I wasn’t about to say no. There’s something about a day full of thrills, danger, and a bit of loot that makes you want to end it on a high note. And if that note involves a warm bed and a bit of fun with a man who’s earned my respect, well, why not? I’m not one to shy away from what I want, and that night, I wanted Jon. He’d earned it.

Jon must have figured our little band of adventurers was getting serious, because one day he gathered us all (me, Ria, Alva, and Jenassa) and said we needed a proper name. He’s always full of ideas, that one, but most of them are harebrained at best. Anyway, we tossed around some suggestions, and I’ll be honest, most of what Jon came up with had me rolling my eyes. But after a few rounds of mead and a bit of back-and-forth, we finally landed on a name that stuck: Frostpeak Stalkers. I’ll tell you, that name hit me just right.

Frostpeak Stalkers. It sounds fierce, like we’re a force to be reckoned with, and a bit wild, like we’re always on the hunt, always ready to strike. It’s a name that makes me feel like we’re more than just a group of people fighting for coin or glory. We’re something solid, something that can take on anything Skyrim throws our way. I’m proud of it, too: proud to be part of a proper band now. There’s something about having a name that gives you a sense of belonging, of purpose, and I’ll be damned if I don’t feel like we’re ready to carve out our own legend in this harsh, unforgiving land.

So, if you ever hear about the Frostpeak Stalkers, you’ll know who we are and what we stand for. We’re the ones who won’t back down, who’ll fight with everything we’ve got, and who’ll keep pushing forward, no matter the odds. That’s what being a Nord’s all about, and that’s what we’re all about. If you’re looking for a fight or need someone who’ll stand by your side through thick and thin, you know who to ask. The Frostpeak Stalkers are here to stay, and I’m damn proud to be one of them.

I remember that day clear as the Whiterun sky after a storm. Me, Jon, Ria, and Jenassa had just cleared out some ancient ruin on the outskirts of Helgen. We were feeling pretty good about ourselves, hauling some decent loot and ready to head back when we were ambushed. Out of nowhere, this damn wispmother appeared: a swirling vortex of cold that looked like a ghostly woman. Creepy as all Oblivion, and twice as deadly. Before we knew it, she had us on the ground, overwhelmed by a barrage of icicle spells. I ain’t one to admit defeat easily, but that fight? We were outmatched.

Next thing I know, I’m coming to, body aching from the cold and the spells that had hit us. Ria and Jenassa were just as shaken. And then there was Jon, standing there looking like he’d been through Oblivion and back. He was pale, sweat dripping down his face, and his eyes had this haunted look, like he’d seen something no one should. He told us it had taken him about five minutes to bring that wispmother down, but the way he said it, shaky and quiet, I knew it wasn’t just the fight that had gotten to him. He’d nearly died, fighting to keep us all alive.

In that moment, something shifted in me. I’m used to being the strong one, the one people rely on to swing the sword and take down the enemy. But that day, Jon was the one who saved us. Without him, I’d be dead, no doubt about it. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, realizing you’re not invincible, that there are things out there stronger than you. But it also made me respect Jon even more. That scrawny Altmer has more guts than I gave him credit for.

I might not say it out loud, but I’ll be damned if I ever let anything happen to him. He’s earned that from me, and if it means sticking close to his side, fighting off whatever comes our way, then that’s what I’ll do. I’ve got his back, just like he had ours that day. And if any other creature out there thinks they can take us down, they’ll have to go through me first.

Life’s funny sometimes. There we were, the Frostpeak Stalkers, just looking to catch our breath at the inn in Ivarstead, when Jon catches sight of this local lad giving him the stink eye. Red-haired, in his twenties. Turns out his name’s Bassianus Axius. Now, Jon, being Jon, doesn’t take kindly to being stared down, so he strolls right up to the lad and asks him what his problem is. And wouldn’t you know it, the boy answers with all the respect of a goat chewing on your favorite boots.

Things escalated real quick after that. Bassianus, the poor fool, decides to pull a knife on Jon. Now, that’s just asking for trouble, and trouble’s what he got. Before he could even think about making a move, me and Jenassa had him on the ground, the fight knocked right out of him. But instead of kicking the lad out into the street or worse, Jon does something that still baffles me: he asks the kid what’s got him so bitter.

Turns out, Bassianus is just some poor sod feeling trapped in that tiny village. He’s been itching to see the world, to be something more than just another fisherman stuck in the middle of nowhere. And to top it all off, he’s in love with a girl named Fastred, but her father thinks he’s worthless, not good enough for his daughter. I’ve seen that story play out more times than I can count, and it usually doesn’t end well. But Jon, well, he’s got a way with people, especially the down-and-out types.

Jon offers Bassianus a spot with us, the Frostpeak Stalkers, as a trainee, giving him the chance to make something of himself. The kid nearly jumped at the offer, glad for a way out of that dead-end life. But Jon wasn’t done: he decided he’d talk to Fastred’s father, make the old man see that Bassianus wasn’t just some layabout, but a man with potential, a member of a band of adventurers that’s starting to make a name for itself. With Jon’s determination and our, let’s say, intimidating presence, Fastred’s father didn’t have much choice but to let his daughter go.

So now we’ve got two new recruits: Bassianus and Fastred. I’ll admit, it’s kind of nice helping a couple of love-struck villagers get out of their sleepy little town and see the world. They’ve got fire in their bellies, even if they don’t know what they’re really in for. But I’m glad to have them along. Maybe they’ll learn to be as strong as this world demands, and who knows? They might just surprise us all.

That’s the thing about being part of the Frostpeak Stalkers. We’re more than just a band of warriors: we’re a force, taking in folks who need a chance to prove themselves, who need a way out. And maybe, just maybe, we’ll all come out stronger for it. It’s a harsh world out there, but we’ve got each other’s backs, and that’s something worth fighting for.

Alright, so let me tell you about a night I won’t be forgetting anytime soon. You know, before I got caught up with this ragtag group of adventurers, my life in Whiterun was pretty straightforward: a bit of drinking at The Bannered Mare, a few brawls here and there, and maybe a trip out into the wilds to keep my sword arm sharp. But things change when you start running with a crowd like the Frostpeak Stalkers. You end up doing things you never imagined, like working for Maven Black-Briar, that snake of a woman who pretty much runs Riften from the shadows.

So there we were, back in Whiterun, on a mission that was a far cry from slaying dragons or clearing out draugr-infested tombs. We had to intimidate a smuggler named Mallus Maccius, some low-life who’d crossed Maven one too many times. Now, Jon, always eager for a bit of mayhem, suggested taking a rather extreme approach, something about reaping one of Mallus’ balls just to make sure he got the message. But we managed to get what we needed without bloodshed, thanks to Alva’s little performance. She pretended to be Jon’s wife, then seduced Mallus until she had him right where we wanted him. It was a sight, let me tell you. She’s got a talent for that kind of thing, even if it’s not my usual way of dealing with a problem.

Later that night, we found ourselves back at The Bannered Mare, bellies full and mead in hand. We got to talking, or rather, Jon and Alva got to teasing. They started in on how well Alva played the role of Jon’s wife, and before I knew it, the conversation turned into something a bit… well, more than I was comfortable with. They were laughing, bantering about how Alva had Mallus wrapped around her finger, and then Jon, with that damnable smirk of his, suggested that Alva should try her charms on me next.

Now, I’ve been in my share of battles, and I’ve faced down all manner of beasts and bandits, but this? This had me flustered like a girl fresh out of her first sparring session. Jon went on to say that Alva had mentioned wanting to feel my strong hands on her while Jon did his thing. By Ysmir, I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks, and suddenly I wasn’t so tough anymore. I tried to steer the talk back to something I was more comfortable with: fighting, the prospect of taking down a dragon, anything but this. But Jon wasn’t letting it go.

They were serious, too. They offered to share a room that night, the three of us, for something a little more… adventurous. And, damn it all, I was tempted. More than tempted. The idea of Alva’s hands on me, Jon beneath me… Suddenly, I was feeling things I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in a long time. So, after a bit of hemming and hawing, I gave in. We went to their room, and what happened that night… well, let’s just say it was something I hadn’t experienced before.

It wasn’t just about the pleasure, though there was plenty of that. It was about the bond that formed between us, something deeper than just fighting side by side. We explored each other in ways I never thought I would, and now, I feel a connection to Jon and Alva that goes beyond just being comrades. It’s like we’ve shared something sacred, something private that only the three of us can understand. And I’ve got to admit, it’s changed the way I see them, the way I feel about them. There’s a bond there now, one that’s not easily broken.

So, yeah, life’s taken some turns I didn’t see coming. But I’m rolling with it. In this harsh, unforgiving world, you take what comfort you can get, and if that comfort happens to come from a night spent with two people who’ve become more than just companions, then so be it. I’ll fight for them, protect them, and maybe even share another night like that one, if the chance arises.

Ah, Whiterun. Seems we always end up back here, like the wind blowing leaves into the same corner. Not that I’m complaining: there’s something comforting about seeing the old Wind District, the market bustling with folks going about their day, and The Bannered Mare calling to me like an old friend. But this time, it wasn’t just about mead and brawls. No, Jon had a bigger idea in that head of his, which, to be fair, isn’t all that unusual. The man’s got more plans than a spider’s got legs.

So, there we were, back in Whiterun Hold, and Jon decides it’s time we do something official, something that would get us noticed. He’s talking about earning enough coin to buy a place, a proper base of operations for the Frostpeak Stalkers. I gotta admit, the thought of having a place to call our own, where we could stash all our gear, stretch out, and not worry about bandits or worse sneaking up on us… well, it sounded good. Real good.

Jon, being Jon, marched us up to Dragonsreach, all full of purpose, and spoke with Jarl Balgruuf. Now, Balgruuf’s no fool; he’s not about to hand out a house key just because someone asks nicely. So he sends us on a job, something to test our mettle, I suppose. We’re to clear out a fort overrun by bandits, which, to be honest, is just the kind of thing we do best.

The Frostpeak Stalkers headed out to that fort like we were storming Sovngarde itself. The bandits didn’t stand a chance. We cut through them like a scythe through wheat, the thrill of battle singing in our veins. When it was all over, the fort was ours, and the bandits? Well, they were nothing but a bad memory.

We returned to Whiterun, bloodied but victorious, and Jon, with that triumphant grin of his, reported back to the Jarl. Balgruuf and his housecarl, Irileth, were pleased, maybe even a little impressed. They rewarded us handsomely, and more importantly, gave us the right to buy a home in the city. Jon, ever the one with an eye for opportunity, decided on Tundra Homestead, a small estate just on the outskirts of Whiterun. It’s got workshops, farm plots, and plenty of space for all our gear. It’s perfect.

And I’ll tell you what, there’s something about having a place to call home that hits differently. After years of wandering, sleeping in inns or under the stars, we’ve finally got a place to kick back and relax. For me, it’s more than just a house: it’s a sanctuary, a spot where I can let my guard down, even if just a little. And then there’s Jon and Alva… They’ve become more to me than just comrades. They’re… well, they’re something special. We’ve shared more than just battle, and having a place where we can just be, where I can be close to them without the worries of the world pressing down… it’s something I never thought I’d have.

So yeah, I’m damn pleased with this development. What’s not to love? A proper home, good company, and a place where I can drink in peace with those I care about. Life in Skyrim is tough, no doubt about it, but for the first time in a long while, I feel like we’ve carved out a bit of space that’s ours. And I’ll be damned if anyone tries to take it from us.

• Previous part (30)
• Next part (31.5 – Uthgerd’s journal)

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, Uthgerd the Unbroken blushed like a schoolgirl at the prospect of being pleasured by a female vampire. The Frostpeak Stalkers met Jarl Ballin’ and were tasked with destroying a bandit camp. The couple of villagers from Ivarstead got their first taste of battle.

We had entered the fort’s prison. We didn’t come across any bandit so far, but there were plenty of signs of their presence.

Jon: “That’s the corpse of a hunter in that cage. I guess the bandits captured and killed him.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, a grim fate for any warrior. But in these lands, you’re either the hunter or the hunted.”
Jenassa: “It’s a reminder to stay sharp. We’re not immune to the dangers out here.”
Bassianus: “I can’t help but feel a bit uneasy about this. Fastred, stay close.”
Fastred: “Don’t worry, I will. But we can’t let fear hold us back. This is the life we chose.”
Jon: “Bassianus, you have every right to feel uneasy about this. Those bandits will try to kill us on sight. It’s either us or them.”
Bassianus: “Right, it’s just a lot to take in. But I’m ready to do what’s necessary.”
Fastred: “We’re in this together, Bassianus. And with Jon and the others, we’ve got a strong group.”
Jenassa: “True, but remember, strength isn’t just about numbers. It’s about how we use our skills and wits.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, and don’t forget instinct. Sometimes your gut will tell you more than your eyes or ears ever could.”

A flight of stairs led down. We were sneaking our way little by little, and we had almost reached the bottom, when a bandit came out of a doorway and spotted us. We were rushed by a group of about six bandits, two of them mages. Their flame spells filled my vision. I chugged a flame resist potion first, and throughout the battle, the rest of my magicka potions. By the time I was going to deal with their last mage, Jenassa, Uthgerd and Sapphire charged against him and hacked him to pieces.

As we recovered our breath, I was surprised that none of us lacked any body parts.

Jon: “The toughest scrap in a good while. With those flame spells, I couldn’t even see what I was doing.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, that was a close one. But we made it through, and that’s what counts.”
Jenassa: “It’s fights like these that remind us why we always need to be on our guard. We can’t afford to get complacent.”
Fastred: “I’ve never been in a fight like that before. It’s… exhilarating, in a terrifying way.”
Sapphire: “The rush of battle, the thrill of survival… it’s addictive. But we can’t let it make us reckless.”

A cage with two charred corpses inside. Further ahead, a jail cell with a dead woman inside: a High Elf villager, if her clothes were any clue.

A man alerted us to his presence, I suppose in case he surprised us and someone ran a blade through him on reflex. He was a middle-aged man dressed like a merchant.

Jon: “Oh, there’s someone alive here. It seems like you were captured by these bandits.”
Cassius: “Yes, I’m afraid so. I thought I could help them see the error of their ways, but…”
Uthgerd: “You tried to reform bandits? Ha! There’s a reason they’re called bandits.”

Jenassa: “Not everyone can be saved. Some people are beyond redemption.”
Cassius: “I understand your skepticism, but I truly believe that everyone deserves a chance to change.”
Jon: “Are you aware that plenty of these cells, as well as cages nearby, contain the corpses of people these bandits have captured, including hunters and villagers?”
Cassius: “It’s a grim reality, but one we must face.”
Sapphire: “The world’s a cruel place. You can’t save everyone.”
Fastred: “But that doesn’t mean we should stop trying.”
Uthgerd: “Enough talk. We need to focus on getting out of here and dealing with these bandits.”
Jon: “Sir, I hope you learned your lesson. You cannot rehabilitate some people. They live to make the world a worse place, and those who help them are contributing to that purpose.”
Cassius: “You may be right, but I still have hope that some can change.”
Jenassa: “Hope can be a dangerous thing, especially when it’s misplaced.”
Sapphire: “I’ve seen plenty of scum in my time. Some people are just born bad.”
Fastred: “But what about those who have the potential to change? Should we just give up on them?”

I walked back to an earlier open cell, the one that contained the corpse of the Altmer woman. I dragged it down the corridor until I posed her, resting against the wall, beside the man.

Jon: “See this woman, who most likely was a decent villager somewhere around here? We found her dead in one of the cells.”
Cassius: “It’s a tragedy, no doubt. But we can’t let it break our spirit.”
Uthgerd: “She’s not the first, and she won’t be the last. The world’s a harsh place.”
Jenassa: “The sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be.”
Jon: “Anyway, sir, my team and I will continue clearing this fortress of bandits, and we fully intend to murder them all before you can attempt something as stupid as trying to rehabilitate them.”
Cassius: “I understand your position, but I urge you to consider mercy if possible.”
Fastred: “They didn’t show any mercy to their victims.”
Uthgerd: “He’s got a point, though. We don’t have to stoop to their level.”
Jenassa: “We can be swift and efficient without being cruel.”
Jon: “Anyway, I’m not going to stick around for a philosophical discussion when likely there are bandits still around, waiting for us to kill them.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, let’s get this over with.”
Jon: “So the way is clear for you, sir, to run away from this fort like a little bitch until you reach the nearest town, which is probably Whiterun.”
Cassius: “Thank you for the advice, but I don’t think running away is the answer.”
Uthgerd: “You’d rather stay here and risk getting caught again?”
Jenassa: “He’s got a death wish, apparently.”
Sapphire: “Or maybe he just doesn’t know when to quit.”
Fastred: “We can’t force him to come with us, but Cassius, please reconsider. Your life is worth more than this.”
Jon: “His life may not be worth much, you know? He waltzed into a fort taken over by bandits, intending to rehabilitate them. Some people are just fucked in the head, and a danger to everyone around them.”
Uthgerd: “Can’t argue with that.”

We found a door that led from the fort’s prison to the main building. After some more bandit killing, we entered the kitchen only to find a middle-aged woman standing in a corner with a broom in her hands, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Jon: “Lady, are you okay? Did those bandits capture you?”
Agnis: “Oh, no, dearie. I come with the fort. I’m just here to cook and clean for whoever happens to be in charge.”
Uthgerd: “You mean this old lady works for the bandits?”
Jenassa: “She’s tougher than she looks if she’s survived this long in a place like this.”
Agnis: “I don’t get involved in their business. I just keep the place tidy.”
Sapphire: “Smart woman. Keep your head down and your nose out of trouble.”

I urged for my companions to keep it quiet.

Jon: “Hear that? Bandits further down that hallway.”
Uthgerd: “Right, let’s keep it down. We don’t want to bring the whole horde down on us. Let’s move carefully.”
Jenassa: “I’ll scout ahead. My eyes are sharp in the dark.”
Sapphire: “And I’ll catch any who might think to sneak up on us from behind.”
Agnis: “You lot seem to have everything under control. I’ll just be in the kitchen, pretending I didn’t hear a thing.”
Jon: “Lady, I’m guessing you don’t care if we kill all the bandits that you apparently were chummy with, right?”
Agnis: “I’ve learned not to get attached to any of the folks who pass through here. It’s the nature of the place.”
Uthgerd: “Sounds like we won’t have to worry about you, then.”
Jenassa: “Bandits are no friends of anyone. They’re just a blade away from being a problem.”
Sapphire: “And we’re just the blades to solve that problem.”

None of the remaining bandits we came across posed a significant problem. In a training room located next to a bedroom where an Imperial soldier lay dead, we found the bandits’ loot chest. Apart from a couple of interesting magic items, that loot alone wasn’t worth the trouble we had gone through. Hopefully selling the bandits’ gear would make up for that.

Shortly after, the Frostpeak Stalkers walked back to the road, leaving the fort and dozens of corpses behind.

Jon: “We did it, my friends. We faced a whole fort that had been taken over by bandits, and we have slaughtered them all.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, we fought well. But don’t let it get to your head, elf. There’s always another battle waiting.”
Sapphire: “Not bad, Jon. Not bad at all. But let’s see how you handle yourself when the stakes are higher.”
Bassianus: “Can’t we just enjoy the moment? We’re alive, we’re victorious, and we’ve got each other’s backs. That counts for something.”

Some tired, others exhausted, everyone weighed down by loot, we trudged back past the old watchtower. Whiterun was already visible in the distance.

Fastred: “I can’t believe we’re actually out here, doing this! It’s everything I dreamed of and more.”
Jenassa: “We haven’t returned to safety yet. Stay focused. The world is dangerous, and it won’t get any safer. Keep your eyes open and your weapons ready.”
Uthgerd: “Listen to Jenassa, Fastred. The life of an adventurer is filled with danger. But if we stick together, we’ll make it through.”
Jon: “At least when we die, we will have died for something, likely fighting for our companions, trying to improve in some little way this troubled world.”
Bassianus: “That’s one way to look at it, I suppose. But let’s not rush to meet our end, eh?”
Sapphire: “Death is always lurking around the corner, waiting to claim the foolish and the brave alike. Best not to dwell on it too much.”
Jon: “Hey, Sapphire, how are you feeling about having accompanied us to the Whiterun hold for a bandit hunt?”
Sapphire: “It’s been an interesting experience, Jon. I can’t say I’m used to working with a group like this, but it has its perks.”
Fastred: “Oh, I think it’s wonderful! We’re like a family, looking out for each other and fighting side by side.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, there’s strength in numbers. But don’t forget that each of us must be strong on our own as well. That’s the key to survival.”

We found ourselves back in town, behind the protection of its walls. Most of us were aching to plop down in bed. After I rented a room upstairs, I leaned on the railing of the balcony that looked upon the hearth and the patrons, one of whom was Uthgerd. She gestured with her mug toward me.

I realized that Fastred was standing beside me.

Jon: “Hey, Fastred. Can I have a word with you?”
Fastred: “Of course! What’s on your mind?”
Jon: “Look at yourself. How old were you again? Fifteen? And already an adventurer having delved into a fort full of bandits. Not only you managed to survive, but I saw you kill at least a couple of people.”
Fastred: “Yeah, it’s been quite the journey so far. I never imagined I’d be doing this when I was younger. But here I am, fighting bandits and exploring forts. It’s a far cry from the farm life I grew up with in Ivarstead.”

Jon: “Do you regret that my team and I got you out of your town?”
Fastred: “No, not at all. I’m grateful for the opportunity to see the world beyond Ivarstead and prove myself as more than just a farm girl. It’s been a wild ride, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Jon: “You know, throughout the fights, I was constantly fearing for not only your, but all of my teammates’ well-being. Kept looking around to figure out if any of you was in need of my healing spell.”
Fastred: “I appreciate your concern, really. It means a lot to know that we’re all looking out for each other. This life isn’t easy, but having a crew that cares makes all the difference.”
Jon: “For how long do you see yourself living the life of an adventurer, Fastred?”
Fastred: “Honestly, I don’t know. Right now, I’m just taking it one day at a time, enjoying the freedom and the thrill of it all. Who knows what the future holds? For now, I’m happy living in the moment.”
Jon: “Well, I hope that with this adventure, we have finally managed to earn enough money to buy ourselves a home. My back is screwed from lugging our possessions around constantly.”
Fastred: “A home would be nice, wouldn’t it? A place to call our own, where we can rest and recharge between adventures. It’s something to work towards, for sure.”

Next morning, Uthgerd, Jenassa, Sapphire and I returned to Dragonsreach to speak with the jarl. However, this time we must have arrived too soon, because even the jarl’s housecarl was missing. I followed Jenassa upstairs, where we found the jarl’s steward, Avenicci, as well as Irileth discussing some internal matter in front of a map of the Whiterun hold.

Jon: “I see that the jarl isn’t around, but now that I’ve found you two, I may as well inform you. My band of adventurers, Frostpeak Stalkers, have cleared out Fort Greymoor, that was infested with bandits. The road west of Whiterun is safe once more.”
Irileth: “Well done, Jon and your Frostpeak Stalkers. Your efforts are most welcome. The safety of our roads is a priority.”
Proventus Avenicci: “Indeed, a job well executed. The jarl will be pleased to hear of this when he returns. Your service to Whiterun is noted and appreciated.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, it was a tough fight, but we showed those bandits what happens when they mess with the likes of us.”

An awkward silence followed.

Jon: “Listen, we have… done quite a service to the city, have we not?”
Proventus Avenicci: “Indeed, your actions have contributed to the well-being of Whiterun. The jarl will undoubtedly consider this when discussing any rewards or further opportunities for your band.”
Sapphire: “We’ve definitely made a difference. Those bandits won’t be causing any more trouble for the people of Whiterun.”
Jon: “Oh, I see, so we have to speak to Jarl Balgruuf for the matter of a reward. Okay, I guess we’ll stick around until he shows up.”
Jenassa: “We could always look into other contracts or tasks that need handling. There’s always work for capable adventurers like us.”
Jon: “To be honest, Irileth and Mr. Avenicci, my band of adventurers and I were looking to settle down. We need a home in which to store our loot and plan our adventures. So far, we’re homeless, and it’s getting embarrassing.”
Proventus Avenicci: “I understand your predicament, Jon. Whiterun does offer properties for those who have proven their dedication to the city. Perhaps we can discuss a suitable residence for you and your Frostpeak Stalkers once the jarl approves.”
Uthgerd: “A home base would be good. It’s hard to plan our next move when we’re constantly on the road. A place to call our own would give us the stability we need.”
Jon: “Well, I look forward to seeing and speaking with Jarl Balgruuf the Greater, then.”

As I admired the throne room’s architecture, I spotted a familiar figure seated at the courtiers’ dining table, eating breakfast. It was Eldawyn, a mage and connoisseur of wines with whom I had spoken at the Bannered Mare, whom I had tried to enlist into my adventurer’s band, and whose wit had intrigued me.

Jon: “Oh, Eldawyn, what are you doing here in Dragonsreach?”
Eldawyn: “Well, if it isn’t my favorite drinker in Whiterun. I was just finishing up some business with the jarl. Boring stuff, really. But let’s not dwell on that. How about you bring me a drink, and we can get back to talking about more interesting things? Like why your face is always that particular shade of red.”
Jon: “Hey, I doubt that my face gets any particular shade of red when I’m not drunk, but thank you. The thing is, me and my lovely companions, from my band of adventurers, we came to Dragonsreach expecting a reward for clearing out Fort Greymoor.”
Eldawyn: “Four grey what? Are those the beards on old Nords or something? Never mind, I get it. You’re out there playing hero while I’m stuck in here dealing with dusty old politics. And here I thought we had something in common.”

Jon: “Hey, I did offer you to join us. We could use an extra mage. But you said you had some bad experiences with working in a team, and no longer wanted to play that game. Which I do understand.”
Eldawyn: “Yes, yes, I remember. And I appreciate the offer, truly. But you know how it is… too many cooks in the kitchen and all that. I prefer to keep my options open, if you know what I mean. But don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere just yet. I’ll stick around to see what kind of trouble you and your merry band get into.”
Jon: “You know, it’s fun talking with a witty person for a change. I love my warriors, but when it comes to talk, you’re more interesting.”
Eldawyn: “Why, thank you. It’s always nice to be appreciated for my sparkling personality. But don’t sell your friends short. I’m sure they have their moments. Besides, I’m not exactly the most reliable person to have around. I might just set someone on fire by accident. Or on purpose. It’s hard to tell sometimes.”
Jon: “Well, it’s been nice talking to you, but jarl Balgruuf is already sitting on the throne, so I’m going to approach him and hopefully get a reward. See you around, Eldawyn.”

My fierce warriors and I gathered at the base of the steps that led to the jarl’s throne, and bowed.

Jon: “Jarl Balgruuf, sir, my band of adventurers and I, the Frostpeak Stalkers, have an important announcement to make. The last time we spoke, you told us to deal with bandits that were plaguing the roads west of town. We found the source of those bandits: Fort Greymoor. It had been taken over by bandits, but no more, because we, the Frostpeak Stalkers, have cleared out the place. It is safe once again!”
Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: “You’ve done Whiterun a great service by clearing out Fort Greymoor. Those bandits have been a thorn in our side for far too long.”
Irileth: “I must admit, I had my doubts about your group, but you’ve proven yourselves capable.”
Uthgerd: “We’re not just capable, Irileth. We’re the best at what we do.”
Sapphire: “And we’ve got the bruises to prove it.”
Jenassa: “So, what’s next, Jarl Balgruuf? We’re always ready for more work.”
Jon: “Sorry to interject, but before we move on to the next job, it would be nice to receive a reward for our work, which you acknowledged was well done.”
Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: “Of course, you’re absolutely right. A job well done deserves a fitting reward. Irileth, see to it that our friends here are compensated for their troubles.”
Irileth: “As you wish, my Jarl. I’ll make sure they receive a proper reward.”
Sapphire: “Thank you, Jarl Balgruuf. We’ll put it to good use, perhaps on a round of drinks at the Bannered Mare.”
Uthgerd: “Or maybe some new gear. My armor’s taken quite a beating lately.”
Jenassa: “I’m just happy to have the coin. It’s a tangible reminder of a job well done.”
Jon: “Well, perhaps it was just my personal goal, but we’re looking for a home. We need a building as a base of operations for our little group.”
Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: “That’s a wise move.”
Uthgerd: “We were hoping you might have some ideas, Jarl Balgruuf. Somewhere strategically located, with enough space for all of us.”
Sapphire: “And preferably not too expensive. We’re not looking for a palace, just a place to lay our heads and store our gear.”
Jenassa: “And a place to plan our next moves. A good home base is essential for any successful group of adventurers.”
Jon: “Yes, if you don’t mind us asking, Jarl Balgruuf and your housecarl, is there such a building available in the city or in the outskirts?”
Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: “Let me think… There might be a few options available. Irileth, do you remember that old house near the city walls? The one that’s been empty for a while?”
Irileth: “I do, my Jarl. It’s a bit run-down, but with some work, it could serve as a decent base for our friends here. There’s also the Tundra Homestead estate.”
Sapphire: “Run-down is fine, as long as it’s not falling apart. We’re not afraid of a little hard work.”
Uthgerd: “And it’ll give us a chance to make it our own. A true home for the Frostpeak Stalkers.”
Jon: “Well, Irileth, if we can be concrete about this reward, how much money are we talking?”
Irileth: “Let’s see… for clearing out Fort Greymoor and making the roads safe again, I’d say 1000 gold pieces would be a fair reward.”
Sapphire: “1000 gold? That’s quite generous of you, Irileth. We’ll put it to good use.”
Jon: “That is very much appreciated, Irileth. You already know that we’ll spend it in a base of operations, so we’ll try to achieve that as soon as possible. Once we have settled down, we will certainly come back looking for work. Thank you for your attention, Jarl Balgruuf and his housecarl Irileth.”
Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: “You’re welcome, Jon. And remember, if you ever need anything else, don’t hesitate to come back to Dragonsreach. Whiterun is lucky to have you and your group.”
Irileth: “Just try not to cause too much trouble while you’re in the city. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
Sapphire: “We’ll try our best, Irileth. But trouble seems to follow us wherever we go.”
Uthgerd: “It’s not our fault that trouble seems to find us. We’re just good at dealing with it.”
Jon: “Jarl Balgruuf, sir, I see that the legends of your swag weren’t unfounded. I hope you keep on ballin’.”
Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: “Ha! Well, I don’t know about ‘swag,’ but I do my best to keep Whiterun running smoothly. And I have a feeling you and your group will be a big help in that regard.”

Uthgerd: “We’ll do our best, Jarl Balgruuf. The Frostpeak Stalkers are always ready to lend a hand.”
Sapphire: “Or a sword, or a bow, or a well-placed dagger in the back. Whatever the situation calls for.”

After selling almost all our loot as well as some possessions we could part with, added to Irileth’s generous reward, we had amassed 7,600 septims. Proventus offered us both that run-down house as well as a estate in the outskirts of the city, and we could afford the estate, even though it would make us broke. We became the owners of a home and a bit of land near the eastern road out of Whiterun.

To be honest, the house looked too small for 7,600 septims, but we also paid for the surrounding land. The deal came with a foundry, a workshop, a tannery, and farm plots.

The interior was beautifully furnished by its previous owners, who apparently were also adventurers. Apart from a nice kitchen, four beds, and quite stacked bookshelves, the main floor offered both an alchemy lab and an enchanting table. We would no longer need to rely on alchemist shops or court wizards to create potions and enchanted artifacts. The cellar was a thing of beauty: beyond a small room with armchairs and two bookshelves, a big room was stacked with chests, display cases, mannequins, and weapon racks. It even had a mounted display in which to store the couple of puzzle claws that we had come across when clearing out ancient barrows.

I joined the rest of my team on the main floor.

Jon: “Hey, look at this, our own little home! It has taken us plenty of blood, ours and other people’s, but now the Frostpeak Stalkers have a base of operations.”
Uthgerd: “Not bad, Jon. It’s good to have a place to call our own.”
Alva: “Indeed, a place where we can rest and plan our next adventures without any unwanted interruptions.”
Bassianus: “Yes, and it’s a far cry from the life Fastred and I had in Ivarstead. We’re grateful to be part of this group.”
Fastred: “It’s more than I ever dreamed of having. Thank you, Jon, for bringing us along on this journey.”
Jon: “You’re welcome, Fastred. This place is a bit smaller than I would have expected for that amount of money, but it’ll do. Maybe in the future we’ll become so rich that we’ll be able to buy a large plot of land, and design a house from zero. Still, living here will be wonderful.”
Jenassa: “It may not be a palace, but it’s ours. We’ve earned it.”
Alva: “Exactly, and think of the memories we’ll create here. It’s not just about the size, but the stories these walls will hold.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, and it’s a symbol of our success. We fought hard for this, and it’s only the beginning.”
Jon: “Well, who is going to test the sturdiness of these beds first? They look quite adequate for our purposes.”
Alva: “I volunteer as tribute.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! You’re such a lightweight, Alva. I could probably bench press you and still have energy to spare.”
Jenassa: “I’m sure Jon was just making an observation, not suggesting anything… right, Jon?”
Fastred: “There’s a time and place for everything. Perhaps we should focus on making this place feel like home first.”
Jon: “Yes, I wasn’t suggesting that we should engage in sex shortly after entering our new home for the first time. That would be unsightly.”
Bassianus: “That’s good to know. I’d hate to have to explain that to any unexpected visitors.”
Fastred: “Besides, we have plenty of time to… test the beds. For now, let’s just appreciate what we’ve accomplished together.”
Alva: “Agreed. This is a moment to celebrate, but also to plan our next steps.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, there’s always another adventure waiting around the corner.”
Jenassa: “And we’ll be ready for it, as long as we have this place to come back to.”

One of our team members was missing. It felt like I hadn’t spoken to her in a week.

Jon: “Hey, listen, before we traveled here from Riften, I chose to leave our companion Ria behind. I didn’t want to involve her in something as shady as intimidating someone for a mob boss. But now, let’s take a week off to settle down properly. I guess one of us is going to have to take a wagon to Riften and bring Ria here.”
Jenassa: “I don’t mind making the trip. It’s been a while since I’ve traveled alone.”
Uthgerd: “Are you sure, Jenassa? The roads can be dangerous.”
Alva: “She’ll be fine. And a bit of solitude can be refreshing.”
Fastred: “I agree. Besides, we need to reunite our group.”
Bassianus: “A week off sounds like a good idea. We can use the rest.”
Jon: “Yes, but I warn you: after that, we’ll need to work hard, find new jobs. Lucrative ones. Now that we’ve bought this house, we are completely broke.”
Uthgerd: “Broke, huh? Well, I say we enjoy our time off and worry about that later.”
Alva: “Agreed. We’ve earned a little rest and relaxation.”

---

BrainFrog’s most recent video, of his series of zany roleplaying in Skyrim, features both the fort that the Frostpeak Stalkers cleared out, as well as Whiterun. Keerava, the innkeeper from the Bee and Barb in Riften, also makes an appearance. It’s so weird to see after having been involved in my own roleplaying thing.

Also, obligatory homage to the man, the legend, Jarl Ballin’.

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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, most of the Frostpeak Stalkers returned to the Whiterun hold to intimidate some guy on behalf of Riften’s de facto ruler, Maven Black-Briar. My character was disappointed because he couldn’t castrate his target.

After instilling the fear of the gods and sharp implements in Mallus Maccius, we returned to the safety of Whiterun’s walls.

Alva: “A job well done, if I do say so myself. Whiterun feels like a second home now, doesn’t it?”
Bassianus: “It certainly does, Alva. I never thought I’d find a place that feels as welcoming as this.”
Fastred: “I’m just glad to be a part of this group. I’ve learned so much already.”
Uthgerd: “It’s good to be back in Whiterun. Now, let’s see what other adventures await us!”
Jon: “Sapphire, the plains and open space of the Whiterun hold must feel quite different to Riften’s shadows and dim taverns, right?”
Sapphire: “The change of scenery is certainly refreshing, Jon. The Ratway has its charms, but there’s something about the open sky that’s hard to resist.”
Alva: “I couldn’t agree more. The night air in Whiterun is so much more invigorating than stuffy cellars.”
Bassianus: “There’s a certain freedom that comes with being out in the open, even if it does come with its own set of challenges.”
Uthgerd: “The open spaces are perfect for honing our combat skills. No more cramped quarters to hold us back!”
Jon: “Alva, do you prefer Whiterun to your old hunting ground of Morthal?”
Alva: “Oh, without a doubt, Jon. Morthal held a certain charm, but it was also filled with dark memories and a life I’d rather leave behind. Whiterun, on the other hand, has been a place of growth and new experiences for me.”

Fastred: “It’s amazing how a change of scenery can bring about such positive change, isn’t it?”
Jon: “Well, now that we have found ourselves in Whiterun with nothing in particular to do, what I propose is to meet the jarl and offer our services, see if he can point us at some bandit camp to destroy in an official capacity.”
Uthgerd: “That’s a fine idea, Jon. We could use a good fight to keep our skills sharp.”
Alva: “And it wouldn’t hurt to have the jarl’s favor, either.”
Sapphire: “True, having friends in high places can be beneficial for our future endeavors.”
Fastred: “I’ve never met a Jarl before. This should be an interesting experience.”

It must have been about nine at night when we walked our way up to Dragonsreach, the majestic seat of power in Whiterun. The throne was empty. Beside it stood a Dunmer woman whom I had seen before protecting the jarl. She looked even more dangerous than Jenassa.

Jon: “I suppose you are the jarl’s bodyguard. Am I incorrect in that assessment?”
Irileth: “You are indeed incorrect. I am the housecarl to Jarl Balgruuf the Greater. It is my duty to protect him and ensure his safety.”

Uthgerd: “And a fine job you do, Irileth. I’ve heard tales of your prowess in battle.”
Jon: “Nice to meet you. My name is Jon, and I’m the leader of this wonderful band of adventurers called Frostpeak Stalkers. We are quite renowned in the Whiterun and Falkreath holds, and in The Rift as of late. We came to offer our services to Jarl Balgruuf the Greater, so he can point us to bandits that need to be murdered.”
Irileth: “Is that so? Well, your reputation precedes you, Jon. But I must warn you, the jarl is a busy man. He may not have time for every adventurer that comes knocking.”
Uthgerd: “We’re not just any adventurers, Irileth. We’re the Frostpeak Stalkers. We’ve taken down dragons and ancient evils. We’ve earned our keep.”
Fastred: “And we’re ready to help in any way we can.”
Jon: “Well, to be honest, Irileth, we have yet to take down a dragon, but my lovely companion Uthgerd the Unbroken here is very eager to do so, so she sort of made up that achievement.”
Irileth: “I see. Well, eagerness and anticipation are not the same as experience, Jon. But I admire your honesty.”
Uthgerd: “We’ll get there, Irileth. Mark my words.”
Alva: “And when we do, it will be a tale worth telling.”
Jenassa: “Until then, we’ll continue to prove ourselves in other ways.”
Jon: “Irileth, my beautiful gray-skinned companion Jenassa here is also a Dunmer, as you can tell. We are friends of the Dunmer and appreciate your presence here in Skyrim.”
Irileth: “It’s good to know that there are those in Skyrim who welcome the Dunmer.”
Jenassa: “We do what we can to prove ourselves, Irileth. It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it.”
Fastred: “We’re all in this together, regardless of where we come from.”
Jon: “Well, it seems that Jarl Balgruuf the Greater has retired for the night. It is quite late, after all. I apologize for coming in unannounced, and we shall return tomorrow.”
Irileth: “Indeed, the Jarl has retired for the night. But I will inform him of your presence and your offer. Come back tomorrow, and we’ll see if he’s willing to meet with you.”

Back at the Bannered Mare, Whiterun’s sole inn, we were able to kick back with a nice dinner and a few drinks.

Alva: “It’s been a pleasant evening. The mead was particularly refreshing.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, nothing like a good drink to warm the blood. Though, I prefer something stronger than mead.”
Alva: “To each their own, Uthgerd. I find that the sweetness of the mead complements the bitterness of the night.”
Uthgerd: “Hah! You vampires and your poetic talk. I’ll stick to my ale, thank you very much.”
Jon: “Let me say, Alva: your performance as my pretend wife was quite riveting. I really bought that you were married to a boring imbecile, which had pushed you toward wanting more attention from shady characters.”
Alva: “Why thank you, Jon. I do pride myself on my acting skills.”
Jon: “Uthgerd, I don’t know how much you witnessed of Alva’s seduction, but take a good look at her, those glimmering vampire eyes of hers, that perfect pale skin and those full lips. Don’t you find her delightful?”
Uthgerd: “I’ll admit, she’s got a certain charm. But I’m not one for pretty faces.”
Alva: “Oh Uthgerd, you’re such a brute. But I appreciate your honesty.”
Uthgerd: “Brutal honesty, that’s my way. Now, let’s talk about something else. This girly talk is making me itch.”
Alva: “Fine, fine. What would you like to discuss then?”
Uthgerd: “Let’s talk about our next adventure. I’m itching for a good fight.”
Alva: “Always so eager for battle. But I agree, we should plan our next move.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, no point in sitting around here getting soft. There’s always some trouble brewing in these lands.”
Alva: “True enough. Perhaps we could take on a dragon?”
Uthgerd: “Now you’re talking! A dragon hunt would be just the thing to get our blood pumping.”
Jon: “Regarding the excitement for tonight… Hey Alva, how about you try your unparalleled seductive charms on Uthgerd the Unbroken here? Let’s see if she can resist you.”
Alva: “Oh, I don’t know Jon. Uthgerd seems quite immune to my charms.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! You think you can seduce me, vampire? I’ve resisted far more tempting offers.”
Alva: “Well, it was worth a try.”
Uthgerd: “You’re not my type, Alva. I prefer my women with a bit more meat on their bones.”
Alva: “To each their own, I suppose. But I do enjoy a challenge.”
Jon: “Let me tell you, Uthgerd, that our lovely companion Alva confessed to me that she would love to feel your strong hands caressing her while we’re doing the deed.”
Uthgerd: “What? You’re joking, right? No, I don’t believe it. This is another one of your games, isn’t it?”
Alva: “Actually, Uthgerd, I find you quite intriguing. Your strength, your determination… It’s quite attractive.”
Uthgerd: “Attractive? Me? I… I don’t know what to say.”
Jon: “Uthgerd, picture it: we’re upstairs in the bed where you ravished me twice. Imagine yourself dominating me with your fearsome strength while Alva, behind you, licks your neck and ears as she fondles your firm breasts. Feel her hard nipples digging into your back muscles. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”
Alva: “My, Jon, you certainly have a vivid imagination.”
Uthgerd: “I… That’s…”

I had never seen Uthgerd this red and flustered. She looked like a virginal teenager.

Alva: “Just think about it, Uthgerd. No need to answer now.”
Uthgerd: “I… I’ll consider it. But don’t think this means I’m going soft on you two.”
Alva: “Of course not, Uthgerd. We know you’re as tough as they come.”
Jon: “Uthgerd, I know we can’t expect you to be anything other than strong and sturdy and relentless even during a threesome. But imagine how the pleasure will be multiplied with Alva enhancing our lovemaking.”
Alva: “Jon, you make it sound so enticing.”
Uthgerd: “Enough of this talk! I… I need to think about it. I’m going to get some air.”
Alva: “Take your time. We’ll be upstairs when you’re ready.”
Jon: “Oh, I recognize that glint in your eyes, Uthgerd. You’ve gotten real warm down there, haven’t you?”
Uthgerd: “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Alva: “We’ll be waiting with bated breath, Uthgerd.”

Later that night, Uthgerd did knock on our door.

Next morning, I joined Uthgerd at the table where she was eating breakfast.

Jon: “How do you feel about what happened?”
Uthgerd: “Last night was… different. I’ve never been with a man and a woman at the same time before. It was a bit overwhelming, to be honest. But… I trust you and Alva. I just hope this doesn’t change things between us. We’re comrades, first and foremost.”
Jon: “It has changed things in the sense that I now feel closer to you and Alva, like we’ve connected on a deeper level than with other human beings.”
Uthgerd: “I suppose there’s truth in that. We’ve shared something that most people never will. It’s a bond, of sorts. Just… promise me that it won’t interfere with our work. We’re still the Frostpeak Stalkers, and our mission comes first.”
Jon: “Don’t worry, Uthgerd, you are our invaluable tank, there to barrel against our enemies and make them crumble. Without you, the whole team might disintegrate.”
Uthgerd: “I’m glad you see it that way, Jon. I may be a tank, but I’m not invulnerable. I need to know that you and the others have my back, just as I have yours. Now, let’s get some rest. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
Jon: “Get some rest? It’s seven in the morning, and you woke up just a while ago. I guess you’re still dazzled from last night.”

Uthgerd rubbed her brows.

Uthgerd: “I’m not dazzled, I’m just trying to remember what it felt like to sleep without one eye open. You try sleeping next to Alva every night, see how well you rest.”
Jon: “Oh, please, you know already that you shouldn’t think of Alva that way. I have slept next to Alva plenty of nights. She feeds on my blood, and both of us fall asleep satisfied. It really isn’t a problem.”
Uthgerd: “I’ve never understood your relationship with Alva, and I don’t think I ever will. She feeds on you like you’re a snack, and you just… let her. It’s unnatural.”
Jon: “Well, surely after last night you understand the appeal of Alva’s charms, right? The way she drew pleasure out of you.”
Uthgerd: “That’s different. Last night was about pleasure, about exploration. What Alva does to you… it’s predatory. She takes from you, and you let her. I don’t like it.”
Jon: “Perhaps this is about you wanting to be the sole one to take and receive from me.”
Uthgerd: “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t want to take from you. I want to stand beside you, to fight with you. I’m not some leech, looking to drain you dry.”
Jon: “Well, I see that you have very complicated feelings regarding our relationships, and you didn’t sleep much last night. I hope you start feeling better throughout the day, Uthgerd.”
Uthgerd: “I’ll be fine, Jon. I just need a strong drink and a good fight to clear my head. That’s all I’ve ever needed.”

I walked over to Jenassa and Sapphire, my two ladies of the shadows, who were hanging out together near the hearth.

Jon: “This morning we’re meeting the jarl. Maybe he has some job for us.”
Sapphire: “Right, visiting the jarl. Got it. And what kind of job are we hoping for?”
Jenassa: “Bandit hunting, most likely.”
Sapphire: “Could be fun. I’ve never hunted bandits with a group before.”
Jenassa: “Just stick close and watch our backs. We’ll make short work of them.”
Jon: “It isn’t just fun, Sapphire, it’s usually quite profitable thanks to the valuables we loot from their corpses and chests. Like stealing, but legal.”
Sapphire: “Legal stealing? Now that’s something I can get behind.”

Jenassa: “It’s not stealing if the jarl sanctions it. It’s cleansing the land of vermin.”
Sapphire: “Vermin with valuable loot. I like the way you think, Jon.”
Jenassa: “Just don’t get too greedy. We need to stay focused on the task at hand.”

This time, when we showed up at Dragonsreach’s court room, we found Jarl Balgruuf the Greater seated on the throne, beside his housecarl Irileth.

Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: “Welcome back to Dragonsreach. I see you’ve brought some familiar faces. What can I do for you today?”
Jon: “Let me introduce myself. My name is Jon. I am an Altmer, a High Elf from overseas. I came to Skyrim not too long ago, but I have formed a band of adventurers called Frostpeak Stalkers, which is composed of your local warrior Uthgerd the Unbroken, your local mercenary Jenassa, and some other members not present at the moment, who are similarly capable.”
Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: “Ah, yes, your group. I’ve heard tales of your exploits. What brings you to Dragonsreach today?”
Jon: “The matter is simple, jarl: we have proved ourselves in our adventures quite competent at eliminating bandits and clearing out cursed barrows. So you just have to point us in the direction of bandit camps you know nearby, and my group shall utterly obliterate them from the face of Tamriel.”
Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: “I see. Well, there is a matter that could use your particular set of skills. There’s a group of bandits that have been causing trouble along the trade routes. They’re well-armed, so we haven’t been able to root them out.”
Irileth: “Balgruuf, are you sure we can trust this to outsiders? This is a matter for Whiterun’s guards.”
Uthgerd: “With all due respect, Irileth, we’re not outsiders. We’re part of this city too. And we’ve proven ourselves.”

Jon: “Jarl Balgruuf, it would be better for you to lose a bunch of adventurers than your guards. And, you see, we love to murder bandits. They’re the scourge of this world. They ruin everything they touch. I shan’t tolerate them corrupting this beautiful hold and threatening your grand city. So please specify names and locations, and my band will head there and kill all of these bandits for you.”
Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: “You make a compelling argument. Very well. The bandits have been spotted near the hills to the west of Whiterun. They’re using the terrain to their advantage, making it hard for our guards to approach without being seen.”
Jenassa: “We’ll need more than that to go on. Any specific landmarks or features we should look for?”
Irileth: “A bit farther past the old watchtower.”
Uthgerd: “We’ll find them, Jarl Balgruuf. And we’ll make sure they don’t trouble Whiterun any longer.”
Jon: “We will travel westward toward the watchtower. I get a feeling that I already know what this bandit camp is supposed to be: we came across a fort taken over by bandits. Anyway, we’ll kill as many bandits as we can, Jarl Balgruuf. Perhaps I shall bring you a couple of their heads so you can mount them on a wall somewhere.”
Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: “That won’t be necessary. I don’t need trophies, just results.”
Irileth: “The Jarl is right. We need these bandits gone, not decorating our halls.”
Jenassa: “On that, we agree. We’ll take care of this, jarl. You have my word.”
Uthgerd: “We’ll head out immediately. The sooner we deal with this, the better.”

After preparing for the journey, we set off on the road towards a bandit camp that we had discovered some time ago, and that we had failed to clear out because it was swarming with enemies.

Jon: “I wanted to speak to the three of you, since you’re on your first bandit hunt.”
Fastred: “This will be my first time, that’s right. I’m excited to learn from the rest of you.”
Sapphire: “Well, I’ve dealt with my fair share of bandits before. They’re a common nuisance in Riften. But I’m looking forward to working with you all on this.”
Jon: “Listen, fighting against people isn’t like in the fairy tales. Sapphire already knows this. One nasty hit with a sword, or a lucky arrow, and you’re done.”
Sapphire: “He’s right. It’s nothing like the stories. You have to be prepared for anything.”
Bassianus: “I understand. We’ve seen some tough times in Ivarstead, but nothing like that.”
Fastred: “It’s a bit scary, but I’m ready to face it. We have to be strong, right?”
Sapphire: “Exactly. Stay focused, watch each other’s backs, and we’ll make it through.”

An elevated rock outcropping allowed us to hide and spy the the fort from a somewhat safe distance. It was time for our strategy meeting.

Jon: “Uthgerd, Jenassa and Sapphire, you three are our strongest warriors; I depend on you to be the heavy hitters. Bassianus and Fastred will play support. However, I don’t intend for us to assault the fort recklessly. I’ll try to enrage our enemies one by one with my Frenzy spell, which causes the target to go nuts and start attacking the people closest to them, which in this case will be other bandits. That way, we’ll whittle down their numbers.”
Uthgerd: “Good thinking, Jon. We’ll let them tear each other apart, then we’ll sweep in and finish off the rest. I’ll be right beside you, ready to take on any that come our way.”
Jenassa: “A solid plan. We’ll need to be careful not to get caught in the crossfire, though.”
Sapphire: “And I’ll be in the shadows, ready to strike when they least expect it. Jon, your spell work is impressive, but don’t get too cocky.”
Jon: “Alright, let’s get this thing going. Good luck, everybody.”
Uthgerd: “Right behind you, Jon. Let’s show these bandits what the Frostpeak Stalkers are made of!”
Jenassa: “Remember, we’re not just fighting for ourselves, but for each other. Watch each other’s backs out there.”
Sapphire: “I don’t need luck. I’ve got skills. But sure, good luck to you all too. Let’s do this.”

I targeted the archers who were patrolling the top of the walls. When affected by the spell, they whirled around and started shooting at their comrades, who promptly ganged up on them and cut them down. The bandits seemed confused about why their own members were attacking them.

Uthgerd: “Ha! Your magic is working like a charm, Jon. They’re dropping like flies. Keep it up!”
Jenassa: “That’s two down, but there’s more where they came from. I can see movement on the other side of the fort.”
Sapphire: “They’re starting to catch on. We better move fast before they realize what’s happening.”
Jon: “I have counted at least ten bandits. They outnumber us and they’re protected by a fort. I have to whittle them down further.”

With three of their members down, the remaining bandits amplified their radius of search. Five or six of them left the fort and navigated around the chevaux de frise, defensive obstacles, to try to locate who was messing with them.

Jon: “Keep down.”
Uthgerd: “There aren’t that many outside. I like the odds. But you’re right, we need to be smart about this.”
Jenassa: “They may have numbers, but we have strategy. Let’s keep our distance and pick them off one by one.”
Sapphire: “I’m used to working in the shadows, not in broad daylight. But I’ll manage. Just don’t expect me to charge in like a bull.”
Jon: “Took down another one.”
Uthgerd: “Keep it up, Jon. Your magic is giving us a real advantage here.”
Sapphire: “They’re on edge, which means they’ll make mistakes. That’s when we’ll strike. Keep your eyes open for any opportunities.”

An arrow whistled past Sapphire. The group of bandits that had abandoned the safety of the fort started shouting. Utgherd and Jenassa jumped out of their hiding spots to meet them. What followed was the chaos of battle: I spotted a couple of bandit magicians, and I focused on taking them down with my staff of lightning while my heavy hitters confronted the bandits’ heavy-armored frontliners. I got a glimpse of Fastred letting arrows fly. After the bandits’ mages and markmen lay dead, I prepared my group-healing spell to bolster our front line. I saw Uthgerd bleeding from her head, kneeling on the grass, one hand planted for balance. After I healed her, she sprang forward into the fray again.

In the end, the entrance of the fort had become a field of blood and corpses, thankfully all of them belonging to the bandits.

Jon: “My goodness. For a moment I thought that not all of us would survive this battle. That was an incredible assault.”
Uthgerd: “We’re all here, Jon. A few scratches, but nothing we can’t handle. That was some fight!”
Jenassa: “Yes, we made it. Your spells really turned the tide. I’ve never seen bandits so disorganized.”
Sapphire: “Not bad, Jon. Not bad at all. But let’s not get too comfortable. There’s always more trouble around the corner.”

We walked into the fort’s courtyard, but nobody came to meet us. We explored the corner towers. In one, we surprised three bandits while they were eating. It didn’t end well for them.

My trainees from Ivarsteed looked quite shook. I approached them with a smile.

Jon: “How did it taste, your first true battle?”
Fastred: “It was… intense. I’ve never seen so much blood. But I’m glad we made it through together.”
Bassianus: “Yeah, it’s not exactly what I expected either. It’s one thing to dream about adventure, but the reality of it is something else entirely.”
Fastred: “I just hope it gets easier with time. I don’t want to let anyone down.”
Bassianus: “We won’t let each other down. We’re in this together, right?”
Jon: “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but for me it was exhilarating. I live for this kind of shit: taking down bad guys, then finding out, after the blood has pooled, that my companions and I are the ones left standing.”
Fastred: “I can see how it would be exhilarating for you, Jon. You’re so confident and skilled in battle.”
Bassianus: “Yeah, I’ve got to admit, it was pretty impressive watching you take them down, Jon.”
Fastred: “Maybe with more experience, we’ll feel that same rush too.”
Bassianus: “As long as we keep learning and growing, I’m sure we’ll get there. But it’s good to know we’ve got a strong leader like Jon to guide us.”
Jon: “I hope you know this, but you’re no longer villagers from Ivarstead. The two of you are warriors.”
Fastred: “Warriors… I like the sound of that.”
Bassianus: “It’s going to take some getting used to, but I’m ready to embrace it.”
Fastred: “We’ve come a long way from our simple lives in Ivarstead, haven’t we?”
Bassianus: “That’s for sure. But I wouldn’t want to go back, not after tasting adventure like this.”
Fastred: “This is just the beginning for us, Bassianus.”

To clear out the whole fort of bandits, we would need to venture into its main building. We had no clue what dangers we would face.

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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 tasked with intimidating a shady character into ceasing his smuggling operation. In his spare time, my character shopped around for children in an orphanage, threatened to clobber an old woman across the face with his dick, taught guerrilla warfare to a bunch of orphans, and ripped a fart in a beggar girl’s face.

It must have been about midnight when our hired wagon left us at the perimeter of Whiterun.

Jon: “Back home in the Whiterun hold!”
Jenassa: “It’s good to see you in high spirits, Jon. Whiterun does have its charms.”
Jon: “Yeah, despite this awful rain and the almost pitch-black night, we’re back to the plains and the charms of this open space. So different from Riften, in a great way.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, there’s no place quite like Whiterun. The plains, the mountains in the distance, it’s a sight for sore eyes.”
Jon: “At this hour, though, what I want to do the most is head to the Bannered Mare.”
Alva: “I couldn’t agree more, Jon. A warm bed and a roof over our heads sounds perfect right about now.”

In the town’s sole inn, the bard was playing one of his songs, and the regulars were occupying most of tables and benches near the hearth. Hulda, the middle-aged innkeeper, was serving more booze to the Arghus, that depressed old man. The stool he was perched on may as well belong to him.

Jon: “Hey, Hulda, look who’s back in town! Our band of adventurers, the Frostpeak Stalkers. Nice to see you again.”
Hulda: “Well, look what the saber cat dragged in. Couldn’t stay away from my warm hearth and cold ale, eh? Welcome back, Jon. Who’re your friends?”
Jon: “These two? My new friends, if you can call them that, although in fact I would call them my new brother and sister, hail from the little town of Ivarstead. This one’s Bassianus Axius, and that beauty over here is Fastred. My band of adventurers and I saved them from a boring life as fisherman and farmer respectively, and now they’re bonafide adventurers.”
Hulda: “Is that so? Well, then, welcome to The Bannered Mare, you two. First round’s on me. Can’t say I’ve heard of these Frostpick Stalkers before, but anyone who travels with Jon’s bound to have a story or two to tell.”
Jon: “Oh, and I forgot Sapphire. How could I forget her? This gorgeous woman, she’s a respectable member of the Riften underground.”
Hulda: “Sapphire, eh? Keep your hands off the silverware and we’ll have no trouble. But all are welcome here, so long as they don’t start any fights. That includes you, Jon.”
Jon: “Oh, please, Hulda. You know I’m always on my best behavior.”
Hulda: “That’s what worries me. Your ‘best behavior’ tends to leave a trail of broken furniture and bruised egos. But, as long as you pay for your drinks and keep the peace, we’ll get along just fine.”
Jon: “Very well. How about you show us what spirits you have available for this rainy night?”
Hulda: “We’ve got the usual. Ale, mead, and wine. But for those with a taste for something stronger, we’ve a stash of Nord mead that’ll put hair on your chest.”
Jon: “Hey, Fastred, fancy growing your first hairs on your chest?”
Fastred: “I… I don’t know. I’ve never had strong drinks before. Well… I suppose I could try. Just one, though. I don’t want to wake up in the temple with a sore head. And… thank you, Jon. For everything.”
Jon: “Yeah, I guess you’ve gotten to witness some fresh sights recently, right?”
Fastred: “It’s all so new and exciting. I never thought I’d see anything beyond Ivarstead. But now… now I feel like the whole world is open to me. And it’s all thanks to you.”
Jon: “You know, Fastred, people do not thank and admire me enough, so I’ll keep you around if only because you’re so kind to me.”
Fastred: “I… I’m glad you think so, Jon. I’ll do my best to keep being useful to you and the group. I won’t let you down.”
Jon: “Well, everybody, let’s forget about our recent troubles in smelly old Riften, as well as the disappointments. Kick back and enjoy some alcohol.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, Jon’s right. Time to drown our sorrows and forget our troubles, at least for tonight.”

About an hour later, I found myself rubbing shoulders with Utgherd at one of the corner tables. Both of us had downed a few ales, and Uthgerd was looking more motherly by the minute.

Jon: “Uthgerd, it seems like just yesterday I saw you for the first time, seated at that table over there. It took one glance of such a sturdy, gorgeous woman for my heart to leap. I had to talk to you, get you to pay attention to me.”
Uthgerd: “Well, you sure got my attention, didn’t you? Walking up to me with all that sweet talk, thinking you could just charm your way into my good graces. But you learned quick that I’m not some delicate flower to be wooed with pretty words. I’m a warrior, and I’ve got no time for games.”
Jon: “No, it took us exchanging punches for you to finally get a modicum of respect for my elven self.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! Modicum of respect? I think knocking me on my ass earned you a bit more than that. You showed me you’ve got guts, even if you are a scrawny elf. And you’ve kept showing it, every time we’ve fought side by side. That counts for something in my book.”
Jon: “Well, Uthgerd, I am feeling nostalgic tonight. We have found ourselves back at the Mare, the place where you ravished me, turning me into a princess. I’m thinking, maybe you’d like to pin me down again.”
Uthgerd: “Thinking about that night, are you? I might just be willing to indulge that feeling, Jon. But don’t think for a second that I’ll go easy on you.”
Jon: “Alright, let me bother Hulda for a moment and rent that same room.”
Uthgerd: “You do that, Jon. And while you’re at it, get us some mead.”

Upstairs, in that locked room, we tasted the alcohol in each other’s breath.

Jon: “Oh, that hits good, right in the back of the throat. This is going to be one lovely night.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, shut up and drink your mead, Jon. You’re going to need it.”

I took my shirt off and posed heroically for Uthgerd, who leered at my exposed skin.

Jon: “Does the sight of this, as you put it, scrawny elven body still make you feel things?”
Uthgerd: “I won’t lie. Seeing you like this, ready for a night of passion, it stirs something in me. Let’s see if you can handle what’s coming.”
Jon: “Shall I kneel in front of you and unveil your flower so I can worship it with my tongue?”
Uthgerd: “By Ysmir, you’ve got a way with words. If you think you’re up to the task, then by all means, kneel and worship. Though I should warn you, I expect nothing less than complete devotion. Show me what that tongue of yours can really do.”

And worship I did, as my hands fondled Uthgerd’s firm curves.

Uthgerd: “By Ysmir, don’t stop now. You’re going to make me quake with pleasure.”
Jon: “Will you come for me, mommy?”
Uthgerd: “Oh, fuck, Jon, you dirty little elf. I’ll give you what you want.”

In the following afternoon, all the teammates that had come to Whiterun gathered at the main floor of the inn for a strategy meeting.

Jon: “We came here for one specific purpose: to intimidate Mallus Maccius, located at the Honningbrew Meadery, into ceasing his smuggling operation that is messing with Maven Black-Briar’s bottom line. Is that clear?”
Bassianus: “Crystal clear, Jon. We’re here to make sure Mallus Maccius knows who’s boss and that he can’t just go around messing with Maven’s business.”
Alva: “I’m ready to do whatever it takes to get the job done.”
Fastred: “I’m a bit nervous, but I trust you all.”
Jon: “Well, let’s talk strategy. Mallus’ main weakness seems to be his lust. He would be taken in by the right charming, seductive woman.”
Alva: “I can charm him and distract him while the rest of you handle the more physical aspects of the intimidation.”
Bassianus: “It’s a good plan, Alva’s powers of seduction will definitely give us an edge. But we should also be prepared for anything, just in case things go south.”
Jon: “Alva is the absolute best choice for seducing a target. After all, her charms are how she survived in Morthal for years. I’d say that Alva should seduce our target and move him to an isolated location. Then, the rest of us will jump in and give him the scare of his life.”
Alva: “I’m more than happy to use my charms to get Mallus alone. Once I have him distracted and vulnerable, you all can move in and we’ll make sure he understands that crossing Maven is a very bad idea.”
Fastred: “That sounds like a solid plan. We’ll be nearby, ready to intervene at the right moment.”
Jon: “Remember, it is preferable if we do not kill this Mallus character, but I suppose that beating him up or even maiming him isn’t off the table.”
Bassianus: “Understood. We’ll do what’s necessary to get the message across without killing him, but we won’t hold back if he puts up a fight or tries to double-cross us.”
Alva: “I’ll keep him distracted long enough for you to make the first move. If he resists, we’ll just have to make sure he regrets it.”
Fastred: “I’m not usually one for violence, but I know this needs to be done. I’ll do my part to make sure we succeed without going too far.”
Jon: “Well, I think that is all. Are you ready to set the plan in motion?”
Alva: “Absolutely. As soon as the sun sets, let’s make our way to Honningbrew Meadery and give Mallus a night he’ll never forget.”
Fastred: “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

Our career assassin, Jenassa, had remained quiet during this exchange. Not only I wanted her valuable input, but I had told her that I would ask her for it.

Jon: “One last point, Jen: you are our best pro here, a seasoned assassin. Do you see any flaws in this plan of ours?”
Jenassa: “The plan seems solid, but we should have a backup in case Mallus proves to be more difficult to seduce than anticipated. Perhaps having someone skilled in persuasion or intimidation nearby could help if Alva’s charms don’t work as expected.”
Fastred: “That’s a good point, Jenassa. Maybe one of us could pose as a potential business partner or customer to get closer to Malus, just in case.”
Alva: “I’m confident in my abilities, but it never hurts to have a contingency plan. We can adapt as needed.”
Jon: “Very well. Regarding this contingency plan, what sort of angle could one of us run to ensure that Mallus will be deceived?”
Bassianus: “We could pose as potential buyers for his smuggled goods, expressing interest in a large purchase to pique his interest.”
Fastred: “Or perhaps we could claim to have information on Maven’s operations that could help him expand his own business, making him more likely to meet with us.”
Jenassa: “Another option would be to pretend to be a disgruntled former employee of Maven’s looking to switch sides, offering insider knowledge in exchange for protection.”
Alva: “All of these are viable options. We can decide on the best approach once we have a better sense of Mallus’ personality and what he responds to.”

Shortly after sunset, we stood close to Honningbrew Meadery, a quaint pair of buildings just southeast of Whiterun, by the side of the road.

Jon: “Well, here we are: Honningbrew Meadery, where our target is supposed to work. Alva, you and I should be specific about the plan we’re going to follow so we can lure this Mallus Maccius into a vulnerable situation.”
Alva: “Jon, I believe we should approach this carefully. We don’t want to cause a scene or alert his coworkers to our intentions. I’ll lure him away from potential witnesses by appealing to his baser instincts: a promise of a secluded rendezvous. That should be enough to get him alone. Once we have him isolated, we can proceed with the intimidation.”
Jenassa: “And don’t forget, if he tries anything funny, I’ll be there to ensure he doesn’t get out of hand.”
Jon: “Alva, I want to be concrete about the word or expression to use as trigger for the rest of us to intervene. What would you use?”
Alva: “How about I ask him about the most valuable shipment he’s handled recently? That should get him talking about his smuggling operations. When he starts revealing details, I’ll work in a mention of ‘special delivery’ that needs his personal attention. That can be your cue, Jon.”
Jenassa: “We’ll be ready to step in as soon as we hear the signal. Just make sure you keep him talking long enough for us to get into position.”
Jon: “Very well, we’ll use the term ‘special delivery.’ Now, for the scenario that Alva and I are going to run, we shall enter Honningbrew Meadery as a married couple. Given how beautiful you are, Alva, I’m sure this Mallus Maccius will be eager to cuck me as soon as he gets the chance. If you go along with it, he may believe that he’s luring you into a shadowy corner for some sexy time.”
Alva: “I can play the role of your wife, Jon. Once we’re inside, I’ll start flirting with him discreetly while you’re pretending not to notice. I’ll let him think he’s being clever and charming.”
Jon: “Alright, Alva and I are going to enter the building now. The rest of you, stay within earshot. Once Alva utters the phrase ‘special delivery,’ we’ll converge on this Mallus guy for some intimidation.”
Uthgerd: “We’ll be close by, ready to swoop in when the time is right. Don’t worry, Alva, we won’t let anything happen to you.”
Jenassa: “Remember, keep your eyes and ears open. We don’t want any surprises.”

In the dim interior, two men loitered behind the counter, one bald and the other with long hair and piercing gray-blue eyes. A third man, younger and blonde, was sweeping the floor. Alva and I approached the counter.

Jon: “Good day, good day. My ravishing wife and I, we were in Whiterun and thought, ‘How about we visit the local meadery to see if their stuff is better than the swill they serve back home?'”

The younger man stopped sweeping the floor and smiled at us.

Eimar: “Welcome to Honningbrew Meadery! Always nice to have visitors looking for a finer taste. Our mead’s the best in Skyrim, if I do say so myself. Let me know if you need anything specific.”
Jon: “We’d love a sample, if you don’t mind.”
Eimar: “Of course! We’ve got a variety of meads for you to try. How about I start you off with our classic Honningbrew Mead? It’s our signature drink, beloved by many. I’ll get you two samples, and if you find it to your liking, we can discuss the price for a full mug or even a bottle to take home.”
Jon: “By all means! My pouch is loaded with septims. If I enjoy your meads, we will bring home a few bottles so me and my gorgeous wife Alva can enjoy them in private.”
Eimar: “Great! I’ll get those samples right out to you. And I’m sure you’ll love it. There’s nothing quite like enjoying a fine mead in good company.”

The mead was alright. I had tasted better.

Jon: “Oh, how delightful! What a pleasant texture, as well as the aftertaste. My, this is far better than that awful mead we get back in Riften.”
Eimar: “I’m glad you think so! We take pride in our work here. It’s all about the quality ingredients and the care we put into every batch. Sabjorn, the owner, is very particular about his mead.”

He had pointed at the bald man. Two men down, one to go.

Jon: “What do you think about this mead, my dear? Is it to your taste?”
Alva: “Oh, it’s certainly a cut above what we’ve had in Riften, Jon. There’s a richness to it that’s quite pleasing. I could certainly enjoy this on a cold night by the fire.”

The third man wouldn’t open his mouth, although he kept stealing glances at Alva’s wet lips.

Jon: “Is any of you acquainted with Riften, that town to the southeast of here, by lake Lake Honrich?”
Eimar: “I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been. Too busy here at the meadery to do much traveling. But I’ve heard stories… not all of them good. I hope our mead can be a bright spot in your visit to this part of Skyrim.”
Jon: “My name is Jon, by the way. I apologize; I should have introduced myself. As I’ve already mentioned, because I can’t help myself but to proclaim to the world that this beautiful woman is my wife, she’s named Alva. What are your names?”
Eimar: “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jon, and your lovely wife, Alva. My name is Eimar.”
Jon: “What about the rest of you? Sabjorn, right?”
Sabjorn: “Yes. I own this place.”
Mallus Maccius: “Mallus. I work here.”
Jon: “Mallus, huh? That is one curious name. Where does it originate from?”
Mallus Maccius: “It’s an old family name, been passed down for generations. Can’t say I know much about its origins, though.”
Jon: “Well, Mallus, let me say, you’re one mysterious-looking fella, with your long hair and piercing eyes. The bad-boy type, huh? You must have gotten into some salacious adventures around here.”
Mallus Maccius: “I’ve had my share of adventures, sure. But I don’t kiss and tell. Let’s just say, working at a meadery isn’t the most exciting thing I’ve done.”

Jon: “Did you listen to that, Alva, my dear? Apparently this man is quite more interesting than your husband.”
Alva: “Oh, I don’t know about that, Jon. I’m sure Mallus has his charms, but I’ve always been partial to stable men. Besides, I don’t mind the dull moments.”

Alright, that may get Mallus wanting to prove himself.

Jon: “Well, isn’t this wonderful? My lovely wife Alva is so into her husband, as well as the life I generously provide for her, that she’d never even look at another man.”
Alva: “You do keep things interesting, Jon.”
Sabjorn: “Sounds like you two have quite the bond.”
Eimar: “It’s always nice to see a couple so in love.”
Mallus Maccius: “Never say never. You’d be surprised what people do when no one’s looking.”

I felt the ache in him to steal Alva away from me. I had felt the same regarding other people’s wives.

Jon: “Oh, Mallus, it seems like you’re speaking from experience! Yo do look like you’ve had plenty of experience with the fairer sex.”
Mallus Maccius: “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Like I said, I don’t kiss and tell. But let’s just say, I’ve seen my fair share of things.”
Jon: “How mysterious! Alva, your accountant husband isn’t too boring in comparison, right?”
Alva: “Oh, Jon, you know how I love a mystery. But you forget, dear, I am a creature of the night. Your numerical exploits may seem mundane to others, but they hold a special place in my heart.”

What are you doing, Alva? Don’t suggest you’re a vampire!

Jon: “Ah, Mallus, you do seem like a man with hidden depths. A bit strange to see such a person working at the counter of a meadery.”
Mallus Maccius: “You could say that. But everyone’s got to make a living, and this is mine. For now, at least. Who knows where I’ll end up next?”

This wasn’t working as fast as I wanted. After I ordered a bottle of Honningbrew Mead, I managed to whisper in Alva’s ear.

Jon: “He has yet to surrender to your charms entirely, despite your gorgeousness. Perhaps he’s containing himself from seducing you properly because I’m this close. How about you find some excuse to head somewhere nearby with him? Maybe that adjoining room, where they seem to store the barrels.”
Alva: “Oh, my dear, you’re just too adorable when you’re trying to play the protective husband. But don’t worry, I know how to handle this.”

I kept busy blabbing to the bored-looking owner while Alva stood up and slunk over to Mallus’ side of the counter.

Alva: “Wouldn’t you like to show me that… special brew you mentioned, Mallus?”

Mallus smirked at her.

Alva: “As for you, my dear husband, just make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back… after I’ve gotten a taste.”
Mallus Maccius: “Right this way, darling. Let’s go to the back where we can… discuss the finer points of brewing. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your wife.”
Jon: “What? Oh, I can tell you are a trustworthy individual, Mallus.”
Mallus Maccius: “Oh, you can count on me. I’ll make sure she enjoys every… moment.”

Shortly after, I excused myself, pretending that I needed to use the lavatory. I sneaked into the warehouse and hid behind a barrel.

Alva: “So, Mallus, why don’t you show me what you’ve got? I’m sure you have something… special for me.”
Mallus Maccius: “Oh, I have something very special indeed. A rare vintage, if you will. But first, tell me, what brings a fine lady like you to a place like this with a man like that?”
Alva: “Oh, you know how it is. Sometimes a lady just needs a change of pace, a little excitement. And my husband, well, he’s not exactly the adventurous type. But you… you seem like a man who knows how to have a good time.”
Mallus Maccius: “You have no idea, sweetheart. I could show you things that would make your head spin. Things your husband could never even dream of. But are you sure you’re ready for that?”
Alva: “I’m ready for anything. You have no idea how bored I’ve been, stuck with that man. I need someone who can keep up with me, someone who can… satisfy my desires.”
Mallus Maccius: “Oh, I can satisfy you in ways you’ve never even imagined. But I have to warn you, once you get a taste of what I have to offer, you might never want to go back to your boring little husband again.”
Alva: “Oh, I don’t plan on going back. I plan on getting a taste of everything you have to offer, and then some. So why don’t you stop talking and start showing?”
Mallus Maccius: “With pleasure. But first, why don’t you make yourself comfortable? I’d hate for you to get your pretty dress dirty.”
Alva: “Oh, you are a gentleman after all. I was starting to wonder if you were all talk. Well, go on then, I’m waiting.”
Mallus Maccius: “Trust me, I’m not all talk. I’m about to show you just how much of a man I can be. But first, close your eyes. What I’m about to show you is a surprise.”
Alva: “Alright, my eyes are closed. But you better make this worth my while, or I might just have to find someone else who can.”
Mallus Maccius: “Oh, trust me, you won’t be disappointed. Now, take a deep breath, and prepare yourself for the ride of your life.”
Alva: “I’ve been ready for this for longer than you know. I’ve been dreaming of a real man like you for months, while I’ve been stuck with that imbecile. Now, show me what I’ve been missing.”

I heard a rustle of clothes.

Mallus Maccius: “As you wish, my dear. But remember, you asked for this. Now, open your eyes and prepare to be amazed.”
Alva: “Oh my, that’s… quite impressive. But I’m not easily impressed by size alone. You better know how to use it.”

My pride was hurt. I was, after all, Alva’s sort of husband. When I walked in, Mallus hurried to pull up his trousers.

Jon: “All right, enough of this charade. Special delivery!”
Mallus Maccius: “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jon: “That’s our trigger phrase, Mallus. You’ve been a bad boy.”

Jenassa and Sapphire showed up as if they had materialized from the shadows. Uthgerd burst out of a pile of hay. My personal couple of lovebirds appeared from behind a barrel. We surrounded Mallus.

Mallus Maccius: “What the hell is this? What do you think you’re doing?”
Jon: “We know what you’ve been up to in Riften. We found out that someone has been smuggling drugs, real nasty skooma that melted people’s brains, and also weapons to arm the seediest sorts. We wouldn’t stand for such trouble, so we tracked the operation to a single source: Mallus Maccius, working from the Honningbrew Meadery in Whiterun.”
Mallus Maccius: “You’ve got the wrong man. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Jon: “Oh, Mallus, the fear in your eyes betrays you. Is this the first time that someone brings up your little side job? Perhaps it has grown too big and unwieldy. Big enough that it has pointed a finger at you.”
Mallus Maccius: “I won’t ask again. What do you want?”
Jon: “First of all, let me clarify that Alva here, even though she’s not my wife, is fond of me. We have licked each other’s bodies. She wasn’t truly impressed by the size of your dick.”
Alva: “Jon, darling, focus on the task at hand. Let’s not get distracted by… personal matters.”
Jon: “Anyway, my point here, Mallus, is that I’m the leader of a band of adventurers who have witnessed the corruption you have brought into Riften with your smuggling operation, and we have come to stop it.”
Mallus Maccius: “You think you can just waltz in here and threaten me? You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
Jon: “I’m dealing with an unarmed man surrounded by murderous people.”
Uthgerd: “You’re in no position to make threats, Mallus.”
Jon: “Yeah. That big, sturdy woman is capable of crushing your head with her bare hands, if you just give her the opportunity.”
Mallus Maccius: “I know Uthgerd the Unbroken. So what, you expect me to just roll over and let you do whatever you want?”
Jon: “Do you think you have much of a choice? The extent to which you will end up hurt this evening depends on whether or not we believe that you’re going to cease your operation.”
Sapphire: “We’re not leaving until we get some assurances, Mallus.”
Mallus Maccius: “Sapphire…? Alright, let’s say I agree to your terms. How do I know you won’t just turn me in or kill me anyway?”
Jon: “Oh, look at us. My band of adventurers, we’re a bunch of goody two-shoes. But we won’t hesitate to harm evildoers like yourself if we believe that you will continue to harm the lovely people of Riften.”
Jenassa: “We’ll be watching you, Mallus. One wrong move, and we’ll know.”
Fastred: “You should listen to Jon. He’s giving you a chance to make things right.”

Maccius leaned against a barrel, looked down at the floorboards, then shook his head.

Mallus Maccius: “Fine, you win. I’ll stop the operation. Just leave me alone.”
Jon: “Not that easy. I need a token of your compliance. Pull down your pants.”
Mallus Maccius: “What? Why?”
Jon: “Because I’m going to reap one of your testicles.”
Mallus Maccius: “Are you insane? I’m not doing that!”
Jon: “I’m not asking. You dared to show your nasty dick to my pretend wife Alva. That is something I cannot forgive.”
Alva: “Jon, I appreciate the sentiment, but this seems a bit… excessive.”
Jon: “Alva, surely you’d like a reminder of this operation by keeping one of Mallus’ desiccated testicles as, I don’t know, a charm.”
Alva: “As much as I enjoy a good trophy, I don’t think that’s necessary. We’ve gotten what we came for.”
Jon: “What we came for…? What I came for is blood, and I haven’t gotten Mallus to bleed. I’m itching for some murder.”
Uthgerd: “Jon, we’re not here to kill anyone. We’re here to stop the corruption and protect the people of Riften.”
Jon: “But surely I can beat Mallus up a bit, can I?”
Bassianus: “I think we should stick to the plan, Jon. We don’t need any unnecessary violence.”

Mallus was eyeing me as if I were a rabid animal.

Jon: “Hey, take a look at Mallus. Do you truly believe that he won’t resume his smuggling operation the moment we leave?”
Sapphire: “We’ll make sure he dismantles it. One way or another.”
Jon: “Well, that is my point. One way or another. The least we can do is land a few good punches and kicks in his stomach, face, and balls.”
Jenassa: “Jon, we’ve accomplished our goal. There’s no need to prolong this any further.”

My right hand was trembling. I curled it into a fist, then walked up to Mallus and glared at him.

Jon: “Look me straight in the eye and say that you’re done with this side job of yours.”
Mallus Maccius: “Alright, alright. I’m done. I won’t continue the operation. You have my word.”

Jon: “Otherwise, Mallus, I shall return here while you sleep, and I’ll tear out your balls.”
Mallus Maccius: “You’re a madman, Jon. But you have my word. I’ll stop. Just leave me be.”

While the rest of our team sneaked out of the warehouse, Alva and I returned to the meadery’s counter, paid for a couple of bottles, and left. We waited some distance away from the building, at the riverbank. Our remaining companions joined us.

Jon: “I suppose we convinced this Mallus character to cease his smuggling operation. But how come I feel so down and disappointed?”
Jenassa: “It’s likely because he realized he was outmaneuvered and had no choice but to back down. Being intimidated and forced to stop his lucrative smuggling operation would leave anyone feeling down and disappointed.”
Jon: “No, you didn’t… Perhaps I didn’t say it right. I myself feel down and disappointed after the supposed success of our operation.”
Uthgerd: “We accomplished what we set out to do. Is it not a victory worth celebrating?”
Jon: “Is it, truly? Mallus Maccius remains completely unharmed. We did give him a scare, but he kept all of his body parts.”
Alva: “Oh, Jon, not every successful operation has to end in bloodshed. We achieved our goal without unnecessary violence. That in itself is a victory.”

Jon: “Hey Sapphire, you do understand me, right? I’ve always gotten the feeling, just by looking at you, that you have reaped many men’s balls in your long career as whatever you are in the shadows of Riften. Wouldn’t you have loved to take Mallus’ balls as well?”
Sapphire: “Jon, while I may have a certain reputation, it doesn’t mean I go around causing unnecessary harm. We got what we wanted from Malus without needing to resort to extreme measures. There’s a time and place for violence, and this wasn’t it.”

I turned around and faced my crew. Uthgerd was looking at me with concern.

Jon: “Listen, everyone… It’s getting real bad, you know? It’s been several days since I last killed someone. I’m getting the shivers here.”
Fastred: “Jon, there’s more to life than just killing. We’re on an adventure together, making memories and experiencing new things. Can’t you find joy in that?”
Jon: “Fastred, our lovely teenager, you have yet to feel the pleasure of taking another person’s life. You will, though: soon enough you’ll shoot an arrow through someone’s brain, and perhaps you’ll get it then. The pleasure of ending someone’s life with implements of death is unlike any other.”
Bassianus: “While I understand the thrill of battle, we must remember that we’re not just mindless killers. We have a purpose, a goal to achieve. Focus on that, and perhaps you’ll find satisfaction in our accomplishments, even without taking a life.”
Jon: “Hey, it’s not mindless. You can’t go around without a mind and expect to kill people. It requires plenty of determination and skill.”
Jenassa: “Jon, we know what it takes. But remember, our purpose is greater than just killing. We’re here to make a difference, to change things for the better. That should be our focus.”

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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.”