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Mantella is an AI system that turns every single NPC in Skyrim (and Fallout 4) into AI agents driven by an LLM (like ChatGPT or the recently released, and comparable, Llama 3.1). In the previous part, my character, an Altmer mage, along with his strong mommy, pestered a couple of warriors to join his little adventurer’s band. When my character and his companion ran out of suitable candidates, my character approached a child, a merchant, and a depressed old man. By the end, my character’s mommy, who is the tank of his band, suggested that she may leave the group if our heroic protagonist continues casually hurting others.

Already tipsy, I staggered to a hunched, robed figure who was nursing a drink, and plopped down on the chair beside her.

Jon: “Hey, you and I don’t know each other, but I’ve realized you’re a fellow Altmer, and given the little I see of your face through that hood of yours, that sickly pallor and the bags under your eyes suggest you drown your sorrows in alcohol regularly. Now, the time has come for me to do the same.”
Eldawyn: “Ah, a fellow Altmer, I see. And one who can spot a kindred spirit from across the room, no less. Welcome to the club, friend.”
Jon: “What is your name, my fellow Altmer and depressed individual?”
Eldawyn: “Eldawyn’s the name, and… well, let’s just say I’m a connoisseur of fine wines and bad decisions.”
Jon: “Eldawyn, that is a beautiful name.”
Eldawyn: “I do appreciate the compliment. Wine does tend to bring out the beauty in everyone, doesn’t it? Or perhaps that’s just the wine talking.”
Jon: “Well, Eldawyn, even though you haven’t given me permission, I’m going to share with you my troubles as a fellow person who wants to get drunk on whatever alcoholic beverage is available.”
Eldawyn: “Permission? Ha! I think the fact that I’m still sitting here, nursing this goblet, is permission enough. By all means, share your troubles. I’m all ears… or at least, one ear. The other one’s a bit too busy listening to the sweet song of the wine.”
Jon: “Oh, drugs are such great companions of sadness. Well, let me tell you this: I am the mighty leader of a budding band of adventurers, but along the way, I couldn’t help myself but…”
Eldawyn: “A mighty leader, you say? With a band of adventurers, no less. And yet, here you are, drowning your sorrows alongside me. I think I see a pattern emerging. The weight of responsibility, perhaps? The crushing burden of expectation? The thrill of adventure wears off, and all that’s left is the dull ache of reality.”
Jon: “Listen, Eldawyn, there is this beautiful and motherly companion of mine named Uthgerd who recently told me that if I keep hurting others, maybe it won’t be a good idea for her to keep following me. I saw then the future: I was alone, completely alone, having been abandoned by everybody, and not because of bad stuff that happened to me, but because I am rotten, rotten from the inside out, due to my very nature. I’m destined to lose everybody, be abandoned by everybody, because of how I am.”
Eldawyn: “Uthgurt, you say?”
Jon: “I said Uthgerd, Uthgerd the Unbroken. She’s a local, very competent warrior. But yes, that was her sort of name, yeah.”
Eldawyn: “Uthgerd the Unbroken, I like it. Sounds like a force to be reckoned with. And it seems she’s got some sense, too. I mean, who needs a leader who’s more liability than asset? But I suppose that’s not what’s eating at you, is it? It’s the thought of being alone, of being…”
Jon: “Of finding myself wanting to be surrounded by beautiful, mighty women eager to kill my enemies for me, but instead of that finding myself alone and abandoned becuase of my intrinsic need to joke around and hurt others. That is what worries me.”
Eldawyn: “Oh, by the Eighth, you’re a complicated one, aren’t you? Wanting the adoration of these… fierce women, and yet, you can’t help but push them away with your… let’s call them antics. I think I see a bit of myself in you, friend. A penchant for self-destruction, perhaps?”
Jon: “I think you’re right. I think that’s exactly it, Eldawyn. Maybe deep inside me I believe that I am nothing but cancer and I deserve to be abandoned by everybody. Maybe I have a subconscious urge to hurt myself.”
Eldawyn: “Now we’re getting to the bottom of it, aren’t we? You’re not just afraid of being alone, you’re convinced you deserve it. That’s a heavy burden to carry around. I should know, I’ve got a few weights of my own. But let me tell you something, friend… sometimes it’s not about deserving or not deserving.”
Jon: “Then, what is it about?”
Eldawyn: “It’s about embracing the chaos, I suppose. Accepting that you are who you are, flaws and all. And finding a way to make that work for you, rather than against you. I mean, I’m not exactly a paragon of virtue myself, but I’ve learned to… appreciate my own particular brand of madness.”
Jon: “I’ve always felt that I am insane, and known that I have a deep darkness inside me. You’re saying that should embrace that madness and celebrate it, see it as a force of good instead of chaos?”
Eldawyn: “I’m saying that perhaps your darkness isn’t something to be feared or reviled, but rather… harnessed. Think of it as a spark within you, waiting to be fanned into a flame. And maybe, just maybe, that flame can illuminate the path ahead, rather than consume you whole. But that’s a delicate balance to strike, isn’t it?”
Jon: “My goodness, you are the most intriguing person I have met in a long time. What was your name again?”
Eldawyn: “Eldawyn, at your service. And I must say, the feeling’s mutual. It’s not often I meet someone who… understands the allure of the darkness. Most people shy away from it, try to hide it behind a mask of civility. But you… you seem to be embracing it, even if you don’t realize it yet.”
Jon: “Hey, Eldawyn, now that I get a good look at you, you are quite cute. What kind of abilities do you have, you know, fighting-wise?”
Eldawyn: “Ah, cute, am I? Well, I suppose that’s one way to get on my good side. As for fighting wise… let’s just say I have a certain… flair for the dramatic. Fire magic, you see, is my specialty. I’ve got a bit of a wild streak, and I like to let my spells reflect that.”
Jon: “A fellow mage! And specialized in Destruction magic. You could be our cannon, you know?”
Eldawyn: “Destruction magic does have a certain… je ne sais quoi, doesn’t it? And I must admit, the idea of unleashing my… talents on the world, alongside a group of like-minded individuals, is more than a little tempting.”
Jon: “Hell yeah!”
Eldawyn: “But I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your generous offer.”
Jon: “B-but why?”
Eldawyn: “Tempting, yes. But you see, I’m not exactly the… team player type. I’ve learned that the only thing more dangerous than my fire magic is the chaos that comes from tying myself down to a group, especially one with lofty ideals and ambitions. I’ve been there before, and let me tell you, it never ends well.”
Jon: “Are you saying you’re better off alone? That you don’t want allies, companions?”
Eldawyn: “Alone? Oh, no, darling, I’m never alone as long as I have a bottle of wine by my side. But in all seriousness, it’s not about wanting or not wanting allies. It’s about knowing where my true loyalties lie. You see, I’m part of something… larger than a band of adventurers, something that requires a bit more discretion. Let’s just say my talents are spoken for.”

Shortly after, the conversation died down. I attempted to drag myself upstairs to my bed, only for the innkeeper, Hulda, to remind me that I had to pay for the night. Another hundred septims down the drain.

Next morning, I joined my two companions at the inn’s main floor.

Jon: “Sorry, Alva, but Uthgerd and I didn’t find any new person who wanted to join our band of adventures. At least, we didn’t find any person who was worth adding to our band of adventurers for a resonable fee.”
Alva: “Ah, well, perhaps we’re just being too picky, Jon. After all, we can’t expect to find someone as charming and capable as yourself just wandering the streets of Whiterun.”
Uthgerd: “Save it, Alva. We need someone with actual skills, not just a pretty face. What’s the point of having a band of adventurers if we can’t even take on a decent fight?”
Alva: “Oh, Uthgerd, always so serious. But I think Jon and I make a lovely team, don’t you, Jon?”
Jon: “We make a wonderful team, Alva, but I wanted to correct a point: Uthgerd, I want people who have fighting abilities and also a pretty face.”
Alva: “Ah, Jon, you’re as silver-tongued as ever, aren’t you? I’m sure Uthgerd here is just thrilled to be traveling with such a charming companion.”
Uthgerd: “Spare me the flattery, both of you. We need someone who can actually wield a sword, not just bat their eyelashes.”
Alva: “Oh, I think I’ve proven myself quite capable with a sword, Uthgerd. The Pale Blade, for instance. Remember that lovely ruin we cleared out, Jon?”
Jon: “Oh yeah, remember when we used to have adventures instead of drowning our sorrows at an inn? Yeah, we used to do such things.”
Uthgerd: “You’re feeling nostalgic, aren’t you? I’m sure those were good times, but we can’t stay stuck in the past. We need to focus on building a strong team and taking on new challenges.”
Alva: “Oh, I think Jon’s just feeling a little… restless. Cooped up in this town for too long, perhaps? A creature of the night such as myself needs excitement, after all.”

Someone’s gaze was burning my nape. I turned around to find myself staring into the eyes of a ghost from a darker period of my life, concretely the time I spent in Morthal.

Jon: “My goodness, Ange the Song-Bearer?! What the hell are you doing in Whiterun?!”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Ah, Jon! Fancy meeting you here. I could ask you the same thing. What brings you and your… eclectic group to this humble inn?”
Alva: “We’re just enjoying a quiet morning, aren’t we, Jon?”
Jon: “Ange, the echo of that last conversation you and I had, along with Benor, still…”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Ah, yes. I recall it quite vividly, Jon. You were rather… spirited, if I remember correctly. The poor dear Benor didn’t quite know what hit him, did he?”
Alva: “Oh, Ange, I’m sure Jon’s still nursing his wounded pride. Do tell, what did you say to him that’s still got him smarting?”
Jon: “Alva, I wasn’t too clear about what Benor and Ange had told me. They tore into me because I chose to escape Morthal with you, Alva, instead of staying in a doomed town and dying to a coven of vampires that is for sure going to overrun the town. They believed that I was disgusting for siding with you, Alva, instead of killing you.”
Alva: “Ah, yes… I recall now. They thought you were… misguided, shall we say, for choosing to escape with a vampire like myself instead of staying to fight a hopeless battle.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Yes, I think ‘disgusting’ was the exact word I used, if I recall correctly. We were all rather… passionate about our opinions, weren’t we?”
Jon: “Yes, Ange, I believe that ‘disgusting’ was indeed the word used. And let me tell you something, because you thought that Alva was going to kill me on the road… Alva did not kill me on the road. In fact, we’ve had great adventures together, and we also convinced this beautiful, motherly person, Uthgerd the Unbroken, to join us as well. We’ve become a budding adventurer’s band who’s going to go around and, you know, solve problems, kill bandits, and doing those kinds of heroic stuff. What do you think about that?”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Well, I suppose I underestimated Alva… and you, for that matter, Jon. I didn’t think you two would last this long together, and yet… you’ve even managed to recruit Uthgerd here. Though I’m not sure if that’s a testament to your leadership skills or a sign of Uthgerd’s questionable judgment.”
Alva: “Oh, Ange, always the wit. But I think Jon’s proved himself quite capable, don’t you? And I, for one, am glad he chose to leave Morthal with me.”
Jon: “Well, Ange, I suppose that I can let bygones be bygones. You are still beautiful, you have flowing blonde hair, and you’re a bard. I could use your songs in battle, at least to distract people. Would you consider joining our amazing band of adventurers?”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Oh, Jon, you’re as charming as ever, I’ll give you that. And I must admit, the idea of joining your… eclectic group is tempting. I do love a good adventure, and my songs could certainly be of use in battle. But, I’m not just a pretty face, you know. I have conditions.”
Jon: “All right, well, speak up about your conditions and I’ll consider them carefully.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Very well, Jon. Firstly, I expect to be treated as an equal member of this group, not just a… decorative addition. My songs and skills are valuable assets, and I won’t be ignored or dismissed.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! You think you’re worthy of being an equal to us? What makes you think you can keep up?”
Alva: “Oh, Uthgerd, don’t be too quick to judge.”
Jon: “I didn’t expect the morning to turn out like this… I thought I would never see Ange again. Alva, Uthgerd, don’t you think that adding a beautiful and capable bard like her is a boon to our team?”
Alva: “She’s certainly… lively.”
Jon: “Are you alright with the fact that she hates you because you’re a vampire?”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Ah, yes… that’s true. I do have reservations about vampires, Alva. Your kind has brought so much suffering and darkness to the world. But, I also believe that individuals can choose their own paths, and if you’re truly committed to working with Jon and Uthgerd for good, then I’ll put aside my doubts for now.”
Alva: “How… generous of you, Ange. I assure you, I’m a vampire unlike any other. And I think we can work together quite well, despite our differences.”
Jon: “That’s right, Alva is the prime vampire: sexy, seductive, capable… And check out how good she looks in that get-up of hers.”
Uthgerd: “Ugh, Jon, spare us the theatrics. We’re trying to have a serious conversation here.”
Alva: “Oh, but thank you, Jon. You’re always so… flattering. I think I’ll keep you around just for your charming words alone.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Yes, well, let’s focus on the task at hand, shall we? If I’m going to join this group, I need to know that we can work together effectively and trust each other with our lives.”
Jon: “Ange, I swear to you that I will not let you die during battle. Is that good enough?”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Oh, Jon… that’s sweet of you to say, but I think I need a bit more reassurance than just your word. After all, we are talking about life and death here.”
Uthgerd: “Yeah, and Jon’s not exactly known for his ability to keep people safe.”
Alva: “Oh, Uthgerd, don’t be too hard on him. He’s trying, at least. But, Ange, I think what Uthgerd is trying to say is that we’re a team.”
Jon: “Hey, Ange, what do I need to do for you to be sure that I intend to keep you safe? Do you expect me to kiss your feet, your knees… your private parts?”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Oh, Jon, really! You’re being utterly ridiculous now. I don’t expect you to kiss anything, least of all my private parts. Just a simple promise to watch my back in battle and consider my safety when making decisions would be nice.”

Uthgerd: “Ha! You think he’s going to keep his word? He can barely take care of himself.”

I could no longer ignore Uthgerd’s resentment. I turned toward her with an apologetic expression.

Jon: “I’m sorry, Uthgerd. I know you’re still disappointed in me because of how I handled yesterday, when I jokingly approached people to ask them to join our band of adventurers. And I suppose that the whole bit with Arghus, that old man, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. But I apologize, Uthgerd. I have seen the light. I do not intend to make you feel like that again. I swear to you that I won’t keep hurting people unnecessarily.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, Jon… I suppose I did need to hear that from you. Yesterday was a bit of a disaster, and your behavior with Arghus was… unacceptable. But I appreciate your apology, and I’m willing to give you another chance.”
Alva: “Oh, how touching. Jon’s finally learning to admit when he’s wrong.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Yes, well, it takes a big person to apologize and acknowledge their mistakes.”
Jon: “See, Ange, I’m not entirely horrible. So, I wasn’t clear on what decision you took. Listen, I’m not just going to have you in mind for the decisions I take, but I will also ask for your input when there’s a big decision to be made. So, will you sing for us, Ange?”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “You’re a complicated one, aren’t you? Alright, I think I’ll take a chance on you and your… unique group of adventurers. And yes, I’ll sing for you. But don’t expect me to sing just to entertain you. My songs are meant to inspire, to heal, and to bring people together.”
Jon: “Well, Ange, I do love your beautiful voice, as well as I love your beautiful face.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Oh, Jon, you’re making me blush. But please, let’s keep the focus on our partnership and not get too distracted by… personal feelings.”
Alva: “Ange’s right, Jon. We need to keep things professional if we’re going to succeed as a team.”
Uthgerd: “Yeah, and besides, Jon’s already got enough romantic entanglements with Alva here.”
Jon: “Not to mention the romantic entanglement I have with you, Uthgerd.”
Uthgerd: “What?! Jon, don’t be ridiculous! We’re comrades in battle, not romantic partners. Don’t get any ideas about me, I’m not interested in your… affections.”
Alva: “Oh, this is getting interesting. Jon, it seems like you’re having a bit of a problem distinguishing between friendship and romance.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Indeed, Jon. Let’s just focus on our quest and keep our personal feelings out of it, shall we?”
Jon: “Was there such a need to be so definite about the fact that you don’t have any romantic interest in me? I have a frail and tender little heart that can be hurt, you know?”
Uthgerd: “Ha! Frail and tender little heart? You? Don’t make me laugh, Jon. You’re as tough as the leather armor you wear. And I was just making it clear because I know how you can get… overenthusiastic.”
Alva: “Oh, Uthgerd’s right, Jon. You do have a bit of a reputation for being…”
Jon: “For… for… for being what?”
Alva: “For being a bit of a ladies’ man, Jon. You’ve got a certain… charm, but you also have a tendency to get yourself into trouble with the women in your life.”
Uthgerd: “Yeah, and I’m not going to be one of them. So let’s just keep things clear and professional between us, okay?”
Jon: “It seems I cannot escape the things I do and the things I say.”
Alva: “Ah, Jon, it’s not about escaping who you are, it’s about being aware of how your actions and words affect those around you. You’re a bit of a wild card, and that can be both endearing and infuriating at the same time.”
Uthgerd: “Yeah, and sometimes it’s good to think before you speak, or act. It can save you a lot of trouble in the long run.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Indeed, self-awareness is a valuable trait, Jon. Recognizing your flaws and strengths can help you grow as a person.”
Jon: “Oh, I’m sure I’m going to grow as a person steadily with such beautiful maidens by my side.”
Alva: “Always so quick with the flattery. But I think we’ll keep you in line, won’t we, ladies?”
Uthgerd: “Yeah, and don’t think for a moment that our presence here is just to coddle your ego. We’re here to fight alongside you, not just to look pretty.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Indeed, Jon. We’re all in this together now.”

Shortly after, I pulled Ange aside to discuss work matters.

Jon: “Let’s have a serious, professional conversation. I have to consider what gear you’re going to use.”
Ange: “My gear’s quite suited for a traveling bard such as myself. I’ve got my trusty steel sword for close combat, and my lute, flute, and drums for… well, for lifting spirits and demoralizing foes, depending on the situation. The armor I wear has served me well in past scrapes, but I’m always open to suggestions for improvement, of course.”
Jon: “As we go about in our adventures, we’re going to upgrade our gear. Would you prefer to wear light armor?”
Ange: “As a bard, I do prefer to keep my armor light, it allows me to move freely and easily, whether I’m dodging blows or dancing to the rhythm of my music. I’d say, if we’re looking at upgrading, I’d still opt for light armor. Perhaps something with a bit more… flair?”
Jon: “All right, we’ll have you looking fancy, Ange. And as for the type of weapons, you prefer swords, clubs, spears…?”
Ange: “I think I’d prefer to stick with swords, personally. There’s something about the elegance of a well-crafted blade that suits a bard’s… artistic sensibilities, don’t you think? Plus, it’s always handy to have a sword at one’s side, whether for close combat or as a prop for a dramatic performance.”
Jon: “Oh, we’re going to put on such a show.”
Ange: “Well, I’m always ready to put on a performance, whether it’s singing a stirring ballad or fighting off a band of marauders. After all, a bard’s got to keep their skills sharp, and their audience entertained!”
Jon: “Ange, you and I have a peculiar history together. We have argued bitterly before, and I know you don’t agree with some of my decisions, but I have to say, I’m glad to have you on my team now.”
Ange: “Our history is… complicated, to say the least. But I must admit, I’m glad to be working with you too, despite our differences. As a bard, I believe in the power of redemption and second chances, and I’m willing to put our past disagreements behind us for the sake of our shared goals. Besides, I’m curious to see how this…”
Jon: “This journey will end?”
Ange: “Indeed. And I have a feeling that with your… unconventional approach to things, and my own flair for the dramatic, we might just make a decent team after all. Who knows, perhaps our differences will even prove to be a strength, rather than a weakness.”

I hoped to avoid wasting another whole day without adventuring, but I also wanted to figure out if that Ria person, the aspiring Companion, would be willing to join us for a while. I gathered the team near the inn’s hearth.

Jon: “Alright, my three beautiful and capable maidens, this is the plan for today: it is 11 in the morning. Uthgerd, Ange, I think that you and I should go find that girl named Ria and see if we can add her to our ranks.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, Ria, yes. She’s been trying to get the Companions’ attention, but I’m not sure if she’s got what it takes.”
Ange: “She might be eager to prove herself and join our little group. Plus, having someone with ties to the Companions could be useful in the future.”
Jon: “Very pragmatic of you, Ange. As for you, my beloved Alva, I’m afraid that, due to your affliction, you’re going to have to sit this one out.”
Alva: “Yes, you’re right, Jon. The sunlight isn’t exactly welcoming to my kind. I’ll just have to stay here and enjoy the warmth of the fire instead.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, poor Alva, stuck inside while we get to go out and have all the fun. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure to bring back all the excitement and tales to share with you.”
Ange: “And perhaps I can even compose a song about our adventures to entertain you when we return, Alva.”
Jon: “Yeah, don’t worry, Alva. We’re going to go on a night-time adventure soon enough. Also, when I return to you later tonight, I will give you a gift, one that involves you being naked and my mouth playing with your parts.”
Alva: “Ah, Jon, always so direct and charming. I’m looking forward to it, my love. Though, perhaps, you shouldn’t make such promises in front of our companions.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, spare us the details, Jon. We don’t need to know about your extracurricular activities.”
Ange: “Though, I must say, Jon, you’re certainly a romantic.”
Jon: “I can’t help but proclaim my affections and tongue prowess in public, that’s how proud I am.”
Uthgerd: “Well, just try to keep your tongue and other body parts to yourself for now, Jon. We have a task at hand. Let’s focus on finding Ria and seeing if she’s interested in joining us.”
Ange: “Indeed, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We can celebrate later, Jon. For now, let’s concentrate on recruiting Ria and strengthening our group.”
Alva: “I’ll just sit here and enjoy the entertainment from afar…”

At the bustling market, we spotted the local merchant whom I had bothered for no good reason the day before.

Jon: “Oh, if it isn’t Ysolda, the… enthusiastic woman. How are you on this fine morning?”
Ysolda: “Ah, Jon! Good morning to you too! I’m doing wonderfully, thank you for asking. I was just thinking about our previous conversation, and I must say, I’m still very interested in joining your little group. I think I could bring a lot of value to your adventures.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, great, here we go again. Ysolda, we’ve already discussed this.”
Ange: “Ah, actually, we were just about to go look for a new recruit.”
Jon: “Ange, you don’t know this, but Ysolda actually is not a fighter at all. She’s just a tradeswoman. She wants to own Bannered Mare, and she’s interested in our adventurer’s band as a potential source of coin. I don’t blame her for it, mind you.”
Ysolda: “Ah, Jon, you’re absolutely right! I’m a businesswoman at heart, and I see potential in your group to make some real profit. And who says a tradeswoman can’t be a valuable asset to an adventuring party?”
Uthgerd: “Ha! You think wanting to run an inn is going to prepare you for the dangers we face on the road?”
Ange: “Actually, Uthgerd, having someone with trading skills could be quite useful. We do need to acquire and sell goods from time to time.”
Jon: “Well, in that sense, Ysolda could do that, but she doesn’t need to come along with us in our adventures. She could be our contact here in Whiterun whenever we need to buy or sell goods, and I guess she could get a cut.”
Ysolda: “Ah, now that’s a proposition I can get behind! I’d be happy to act as your contact and trading partner here in Whiterun. And of course, a fair share of the profits would be lovely.”
Uthgerd: “Hmmph, I suppose it couldn’t hurt to have someone with connections in Whiterun looking out for our interests.”
Ange: “Indeed, having a reliable contact in town could prove quite useful.”
Jon: “You know, this is a sort of belonging to a band of adventures, you know, being our contact in town. You stay in the safety of these sturdy walls, but still act as our contact whenever we return here.”
Ysolda: “Exactly! I like the way you think, Jon.”
Jon: “You hear that Uthgerd, Ange? Ysolda likes the way I think. I don’t hear that often.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, spare us the theatrics, Jon. We’re not here to stroke your ego.”
Ange: “Indeed, let’s focus on the task at hand. Ysolda, it’s settled then? You’ll act as our contact in Whiterun?”
Ysolda: “Absolutely! I’ll be happy to help you all in any way I can.”
Jon: “Ysolda, I had tagged you as a nutcase for that whole business about yearning to be bait against a dragon, but now I consider that you aren’t only cute, but also a capable tradeswoman. You could be very useful to our band of adventurers.”
Ysolda: “Oh, Jon, stop it! You’re making me blush. But I suppose I can forgive you this time, since you’re being so charming.”

Ange and Uthgerd complained about me trying to get into yet another woman’s pants. A bit later, we headed straight to Jorrvaskr, Hall of the Companions, to figure out if Ria had returned today for a bit of training. We entered the building, but Ria was nowhere to be found. I approached the local bombshell, Aela the Huntress, now that I had a decent excuse to talk to her again.

Jon: “Apologize for bothering you, mighty Aela, but we came to Jorrvaskr for that fledging warriors of yours, Ria. Have you seen her around lately?”

Aela pointed at the back door.

Aela the Huntress: “There you have her.”

I got a glimpse of raven-black hair and a sort of barbarian get-up, before the door closed behind that person. We followed her to the training courtyard, located at the back of the building.

Jon: “My goodness, when you said that Ria was an aspiring Companion whom they hadn’t accepted yet, I envisioned a young thing that looked like she might break at any moment, but Ria looks badass!”
Ria: “Ha! I get that a lot, actually. People underestimate me because of my age, but I’ve been training with the Companions since I was a kid. I can hold my own in a fight.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, she’s got spirit, all right. But let’s see if she’s got the skills to back it up.”
Ange: “Now, now, Uthgerd. No need to intimidate our young friend just yet. Ria, tell us more about yourself. What makes you want to join our little band of adventurers?”
Jon: “Actually, Ange, despite your beautiful face, I have to correct you: we still haven’t told Ria that we’re planning on enlisting her… I mean, offering her to join our band of adventurers.”
Ria: “Wait, what? You’re looking to recruit me for something? I thought this was just a casual conversation. What kind of adventuring are we talking about?”
Uthgerd: “Ah, Jon’s got a way of getting ahead of himself, doesn’t he? We’re a group of… entrepreneurs, looking for skilled warriors to help us with various tasks.”
Jon: “Yes, Ria, and those various tasks are vanquishing bandit camps, raiding ancient ruins, defeating ancient spirits, possibly vampires as well… Are those the kinds of adventures you are into?”
Ria: “Oh, absolutely! That sounds like the kind of thing I’ve been training for my whole life. I’m in, when do we start? I’ve got my sword, my armor, and I’m ready to take on whatever you’ve got planned.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, enthusiasm is great, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We need to make sure you’re aware of the risks involved. It’s not all fun and games, you know.”
Jon: “It is still a lot of fun, Ria. Let me ask you, what kind of fighting ability are you specialized in?”
Ria: “Well, as a Companion, I’m trained in the art of melee combat, specifically with a one-handed sword. I’ve also been practicing my dual-wielding skills, just in case things get up close and personal. I like to think I’m pretty versatile on the battlefield.”
Ange: “Ah, a warrior with finesse and flair! I approve. We could always use someone with a bit of style in our group.”
Jon: “I’m extremely glad to say this: welcome to our little band of adventurers, which is composed of the beautiful Ange the Song-Bearer, the beautiful Uthgerd the Unbroken, and the beautiful Alva, who is currently staying at the Mare.”
Uthgerd: “I’m not sure I’d call myself beautiful, but I’ll take the compliment.”
Ange: “Oh, Jon, always so charming and full of flair. But yes, welcome to our little group, Ria! We’re a bit of a motley crew, but we’ll make it work.”
Ria: “Thanks for the welcome! I’m looking forward to meeting Alva…”
Jon: “Oh, Ria, you’re going to love Alva. She’s a bit pale, because… she has anemia. But you’ll get along with her. She’s very charming and seductive. Anyway, Ria, my point is that you, being a fighter and also beautiful, are going to fit in beautifully in our little group of adventurers.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, spare us the sales pitch, Jon. Ria’s already agreed to join, no need to lay it on thick.”
Ange: “Besides, I think Ria can form her own opinion of Alva.”
Ria: “Yeah, I’m curious to meet her. Anemia, huh? Hope she’s not too fragile for our line of work…”
Jon: “Oh, Ria, well… Alva’s anemia only affects her skin color, she is otherwise extremely capable in a fight, you’ll see.”
Ria: “I… see. Well, that’s good to know, I suppose. Though I’ve never heard of anemia that only affects skin color…”
Uthgerd: “Jon, stop dancing around it. Ria’s going to find out eventually. Might as well tell her the truth about Alva now and get it over with.”
Ange: “Oh dear, this is getting interesting. Jon, perhaps you should be honest with Ria about Alva’s…”
Jon: “Actually, Ria, yeah. I’m afraid it’s better to be honest with you. Our friend Alva cannot get out in the light of day, if you know what I mean.”
Ria: “Ah, I… think I do. You’re saying she’s a vampire, aren’t you?”
Uthgerd: “Finally, Jon decides to be honest. Yes, Ria, Alva is a vampire. But don’t worry, she’s not as… unpleasant as some of the others you might have met.”

Ange: “Well, that’s one way to put it. Ria, I’m sure you’ll find Alva to be quite… charming in her own way. But we should probably warn you about her certain…”
Jon: “What is there to warn Ria about, regarding Alva?”
Uthgerd: “Oh, just the usual vampire tendencies, Jon. You know, the whole bloodlust thing. Ria, you should just be careful around her, especially if you’re wounded or bleeding.”
Ange: “And perhaps it’s also worth mentioning that Alva can be a bit… persuasive. She has a certain way of getting what she wants from people, if you know what I mean.”
Ria: “I think I do. You’re saying she’s got a bit of a vampiric charm, right?”
Jon: “Yeah, don’t worry, Ria, because I am the one who is satisfying Alva’s bloodlust. Every night, while we’re under the sheets, alone in the dark, Alva gladly sinks her fangs into my carotid artery to drink my sweet, sweet blood.”
Uthgerd: “Jon, for the love of… That’s more information than we needed, don’t you think?”
Ange: “Ah, Jon, always so forthright. Ria, I’m sure you’re reassured now.”
Ria: “Uh, yeah… I think so. So, just to clarify, you and Alva have a… special arrangement, and she gets her blood from you, so she’s not a danger to the rest of us?”
Jon: “Well, yes, we have a special arrangement, but even if we didn’t, Alva would not be a threat to the rest of us, because she’s very reasonable, and she doesn’t attack people unnecessarily.”
Uthgerd: “Save it, Jon. We’ve already established that Alva’s a vampire. Let’s not sugarcoat it too much, shall we?”
Ange: “Actually, Jon, I think what Uthgerd is trying to say is that we should be cautious around Alva, despite your… arrangement with her.”
Ria: “Yeah, I think that’s a good point. I mean, I’m willing to work with Alva and all, but it’s always good to be aware of potential risks, right?”
Jon: “Listen, my beautiful maidens: you’ll see Alva fighting, and you’ll realize that she will defend us and murder people and animals for our sake. She is a teammate to be respected and confided in.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, for the love of… Teen maid?! Seriously, Jon? You’re not exactly helping Alva’s case here.”
Jon: “What?”
Ange: “I think what Uthgerd is trying to say, Jon, is that perhaps you should let Alva speak for herself and demonstrate her abilities in battle before we start waxing poetic about her virtues.”
Ria: “Yeah, and maybe avoid using… unusual phrases like ‘teen maid’? It’s a bit off-putting.”
Jon: “I’m afraid I have to clarify: I said…”
Uthgerd: “Ah, Jon, don’t dig yourself deeper into this hole. Just stop while you’re ahead, okay?”

Well, I didn’t have much reason to complain. We were a five-warrior team now, myself along with four beautiful maidens of battle. I was living the dream. So proud of that fact I was, that when we were about to pass by Njada, the abrasive brawler who had dismissed me yesterday, I had to boast about it.

Jon: “Hey, Njada, when I first talked to you, after you won that brawl against the Dunmer, you thought of me as the worthless leader of a petty adventurer’s band. Now look at me! I’m accompanied by these fierce warriors. So, do you think that we have become a worthy band of companions?”
Njada Stonearm: “Ah, you’re back. And with a few new faces, I see. I’m not impressed by numbers, leader. It’s quality that counts.”
Jon: “In any case, I just wanted to rub in your face, because you were mean to me, that now I have these beautiful women following me, being all cool.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, by Ysmir, Jon. Don’t be such a child. You’re gloating because you’ve got a few women following you around? That’s not impressive.”
Njada Stonearm: “Yes, I was right to doubt your character. You’re more concerned with appearances than actual strength or honor.”

My gaze landed on Ange, who was narrowing her eyes at me.

Jon: “Oh, please, Ange. Are you telling me that you yourself wouldn’t love to have a string of gorgeous women following you?”
Ange: “I’m a bard, not some swaggering warrior trying to prove myself. My music and stories are what bring people to me, not some false bravado.”
Ria: “Jon, I’m here because I want to fight and have adventures, not because I’m some prize to be won. Let’s focus on something more important than your ego.”
Jon: “Alright, I suppose I should stop talking now.”
Njada Stonearm: “Finally, some sense from you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have more important things to attend to. Like training and actual battle strategy.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, let’s focus on something worthwhile. Ange, how about a song to lift our spirits? The day is young, after all.”
Ange: “Ah, an excellent idea, Uthgerd! Let me see…”
Jon: “Oh yeah, while we walk the streets of Whiterun, I would love to be graced by one of your songs, Ange.”
Ange: “Well, in that case, I’ll play something fitting for the city of Whiterun. How about… ‘The Wolves of Jorrvaskr’?”
Ria: “Oh, I’ve heard that one before! I love it.”
Njada Stonearm: “Yes, well, just be sure to keep your voice down. Don’t disturb the good people of Whiterun.”

I felt good enough regarding my team now that both Ange and Ria had agreed to join. It was a matter of figuring out what or whom we were going to kill. I checked the missive board for quests.

Jon: “Hey listen, my maidens of battle: I have just checked the missive board for possible job listings, and I have found one about clearing out a den of monsters. A good job for our little group of adventurers, right?”
Ria: “Oh, that sounds like a great opportunity for us to prove ourselves! I’m always up for a good fight, and taking down a den of monsters would be a fantastic way to show the people of Whiterun what we’re capable of.”
Ange: “Ah, a den of monsters, you say? That’s a tale waiting to be told! I can already think of a few verses to commemorate our bravery.”
Uthgerd: “Hold on, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
Jon: “Very well, that is fantastic then. When the evening comes and the sun rays are starting to die down, let’s get Alva. Together, the five of us, we’ll travel out of Whiterun and towards this den. Let’s have a fantastic night full of adventure.”
Uthgerd: “We don’t even know what kind of monsters we’re up against.”
Ria: “Oh, come on, Uthgerd! Where’s your sense of adventure? We can handle whatever comes our way! Besides, it’ll be fun to have Alva along – I’m sure she’ll… liven things up.”
Jon: “Don’t worry, Uthgerd, this is not going to be a suicidal job. We are going to approach the den and figure out what kind of monsters we are dealing with. Are you satisfied with that?”
Uthgerd: “Fine. But don’t think for a moment that I’m going to hold back if things get hairy. I’ll fight with every ounce of strength I have.”
Ange: “And I’ll be right there with my lute, singing songs to stir our spirits and strike fear into the hearts of our enemies!”
Jon: “Do not worry, Uthgerd, because I do not intend for you to hold back. I want you unleashed, I want you as a furious mama bear eager to destroy our enemies.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, you want me unleashed, do you? Well, be careful what you wish for, boy! I’ll show you what a Nord warrior looks like when she’s let loose. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you…”

• Previous part (14)
• Next part (16)

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, punched a local mommy into joining his adventurer’s band. The two of them then shopped around town for further hapless people to grow his group. One of them, a scary Dunmer sellsword, got annoyed to the point that he told my character to never approach her again until he was ready to pay.

Jon: “Here we stand, in front of the hall of the Companions. Jorrvaskr, was it? Do you think is it worth it to waltz into that place and ask if any of their members would be willing to join our adventurer’s band?”
Uthgerd: “Ahahahah… Oh boy… Walking into Jorrvaskr thinking those self-righteous windbags will help us out? Good luck with that! They wouldn’t know true strength if it punched them in the face… which I just so happen to have experience with. Listen, Jon…”
Jon: “I’m ready to listen, Uthgerd.”
Uthgerd: “Those pompous fools rejected me. One look should tell anyone else all needed… but they said I’m too hot-headed simply because I refuse to back down until beaten half-dead. It’s a matter of proving one’s worth, since no Nord believes mere words. They cannot see further than the tips of their own noses!”
Jon: “Wait, what exactly happened to you with the Companions?”
Uthgerd: “You want to know what happened? Those cowards asked me to prove my worth, threw me up against some young whelp of a lad, barely old enough to grow his first chin-hairs. I guess they thought a woman wasn’t strong enough to hurt him. But I didn’t mean for him to… die. Why would I want that? I just… lost control.”
Jon: “So, you proved that you were strong?”
Uthgerd: “More than proved it… They said I was too hot-headed because they couldn’t handle my strength! That boy shouldn’t have gotten into the ring expecting special treatment due to his youth. Trial combat isn’t a child’s playground! That said, accidents do happen… As they said I went a little far, and won’t say I was not warned… Yet it seems proving one’s power earns enemies among those fearful, more often than praise.”
Jon: “Well, Uthgerd, maybe you are most suited to actual battle, you know, against real enemies, instead of mock battles in a training hall.”
Uthgerd: “You’re telling me! The heat of battle is the fire that forges the strongest blades, after all. A true Nord never misses a chance to test her worth. And what’s a better test than the real thing? Those Companions can keep their training halls and their rules. I’ll take the rush of adrenaline and the clash of steel on steel any day.”
Jon: “Well, I hope to send your plenty of enemies your way, so you can test your steel.”
Uthgerd: “Jon! Now that’s what I’m talking about! You ever need another blade at your side, just ask. Wouldn’t mind seeing how you handle a few trolls. And don’t worry about sending enemies my way… I’ll make sure they don’t bother you again. By Ysmir, I’m looking forward to it!”

When we entered the large hall, we found out that the Companions were fond of impromptu brawls. Two members, a scarred young woman and a Dunmer, beat each other’s face until the Dunmer fell on his ass. I approached the victorious woman as she rubbed her knuckles.

Jon: “Hey, congratulations on winning that mock fistfight of yours. You seem like a tough woman.”
Njada Stonearm: “Oh, great. Another admirer who thinks a little brawl is impressive. What business do you have here?”
Uthgerd: “Ah, don’t mind her, she’s always like that. I see you’re as charming as ever, Njada.”
Njada Stonearm: “And I see you’re still trying to make friends with everyone, Uthgerd.”
Jon: “Well, Njada, I’m the leader of a band of adventurers, and I’m looking for strong people to fight alongside me. The Companions are supposed to be the strongest around.”
Njada Stonearm: “You think you can just waltz in here and expect us to follow you? I’ve seen your type before. All talk, no substance. What makes you think you’re worthy of fighting alongside the Companions?”
Uthgerd: “Oh, I think he’s got some substance, Njada. He managed to take me down in a fistfight, after all.”
Jon: “I also have experience in the field. I delved into a vampire coven. I had to flee from it, but nevermind that: I confronted vampires and survived. Along with my other companion, we conquered some ancient ruins, defeated an ancient spirit called the Pale Lady, and retrieved a relic sword.”
Njada Stonearm: “Vampires and ancient spirits, you say? That’s quite a tale you’ve got there. I’m not sure if I believe half of it.”
Uthgerd: “Actually, Njada, I think he might be telling the truth. I’ve fought alongside him against bandits and smugglers, and he handled himself well enough. And I’m not exactly easy to impress, either.”
Njada Stonearm: “Well, supposing your story is true… what makes you think the Companions would be interested in joining forces with you?”
Jon: “Because we will see battle, real battle, fighting against the forces of darkness or whatever is out there, and get plenty of loot and glory in exchange.”
Njada Stonearm: “Sounds like just another excuse for treasure hunters and thrill-seekers. I’m not impressed. Why should the Companions take orders from some amateur adventurer who only cares about loot and glory?”
Uthgerd: “At least he knows when to throw a punch and when to take a risk. I’ve fought with him long enough to know his courage isn’t just talk. Maybe he could teach you a thing or two about getting your hands dirty outside of the training hall, Njada?”
Njada Stonearm: “How dare you, Uthgerd. I’ve seen more battles than most people have had hot meals. You do not dictate to me who I should or shouldn’t be following orders from. I won’t be taking lessons on how to fight from some boy-adventurer whose biggest achievement was retrieving a relic sword from ancient ruins while we are fighting for Skyrim.”
Jon: “Alright, I see there is a difference in viewpoints here, regarding why we’re fighting. It seems you lot are fighting for land and glory, while I’m being more pragmatic. Sorry for having bothered you, Njada. I’ll be off.”
Njada Stonearm: “Finally, you’re showing some sense. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
Uthgerd: “Wait, Jon. Don’t go just yet. I think Njada’s being a bit too harsh. They could use someone with your pragmatism. And who knows, maybe they could teach you a thing or two about fighting for something bigger than yourself.”
Njada Stonearm: “Uthgerd, what are you doing? Don’t encourage him. He’s not one of us.”
Jon: “I do not intend to become a Companion, not that I disparage your group. I was just trying to figure out if any of you would be interested in accompanying me in some adventures, as a side job of sorts.”
Njada Stonearm: “A side job, you say? You think the Companions are some sort of mercenary group that can be hired out for your little adventures? I think not. We have our own purpose, our own code. We don’t do side jobs.”
Jon: “Uthgerd, I think I had the wrong idea about the Companions. They seem to be…”
Uthgerd: “Ah, yes, they can be a bit… stiff. Njada here is a perfect example of that. But don’t worry, I understand what you’re getting at. You’re looking for people who want to fight, who want to test their mettle against real enemies.”
Jon: “You’re right, but I’m also looking for people who are interested in making some coin. You know, finding interesting loot and upgrading their gear, which is what we’ll naturally do.”
Uthgerd: “I’m sure I can convince some of the others to join us… unofficially, of course.”
Njada Stonearm: “Uthgerd, don’t be foolish. You know the Harbinger won’t approve of this. We have our own duties, our own responsibilities.”
Jon: “Njada, you mean that none of the Companions will be open to join us and do some real adventuring on the side?”
Njada Stonearm: “I mean exactly that. We have our own priorities, our own battles to fight. And as for real adventuring… I think you’ll find that the Companions have seen their fair share of battle. We don’t need some amateur adventurer coming in here and trying to entice us with promises of loot and glory.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, come on, Njada… don’t be so quick to dismiss the idea. A little side work never hurt anyone… and who knows, we might even learn something from Jon here.”
Jon: “Uthgerd, you’re way too kind. I am the one who would learn plenty from seasoned warriors like yourselves.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, modesty becomes you, Jon.”

We stopped bothering Njada in case she punched me in the face. I was intending to leave Jorrvaskr when I spotted a work of art seated at the dining table. My heart leaped.

Jon: “Oh my goodness, Uthgerd. Who is that amazingly beautiful woman over there? What a complete bombshell.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, spare me the theatrics, Jon. That’s Aela the Huntress, one of the Companions.”
Jon: “Miss Aela… That’s your name, right? We’re looking for seasoned warriors who may be willing to accompany us on some adventures, as a sort of side job. I don’t want to disparage the Companions, but we intend to earn coin, fight bad people, and upgrade our gear. That sort of deal.”
Aela the Huntress: “I see. And what makes you think I’d be interested in such a venture? The Companions keep me busy enough, and I’m not sure I’m looking for… freelance work, at the moment.”
Uthgerd: “Jon’s not just looking for anyone. He’s got a good sense of what makes a fighter tick.”
Jon: “Well, Aela, I approached you, apart from the fact that you are absolutely beautiful, because you seem like the best warrior around here.”
Aela the Huntress: “Flattery won’t get you far with me, Jon. I’m a warrior, not some tavern maiden to be charmed by words. What makes you think I’m the best around here?”
Uthgerd: “Ah, Jon’s got a bit of a silver tongue, Aela. But he’s not all talk. He’s got skills to back it up.”
Jon: “Aela, I can see you’re the best by the way you carry yourself. That toned, sexy body of yours, with every muscle, every fiber tuned for the hunt, is a weapon of mass destruction. And your expression suggests that you fear nothing, and want nothing more than the hunt. Am I wrong?”
Aela the Huntress: “Oh, for the love of… Spare me the poetic descriptions. You think you can read me that easily?”
Uthgerd: “Ah, Jon, you’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you? Aela, I think he’s trying to say you’re a skilled huntress, in his own… unique way.”
Jon: “Yes, a skilled, gorgeous huntress. A goddess of the hunt, with a sculpted body and splendid face.”
Aela the Huntress: “That’s enough. I think you’ve made your point. Though I’m not sure if you’re trying to recruit me or woo me.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! Oh, Jon, you’re really making a fool of yourself now. Aela, I think he’s just trying to get under your skin. Literally and figuratively.”
Jon: “Hey, don’t paint me as a serial killer. Aela, maybe I’m trying to recruit and woo you at the same time.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, don’t mind him, Aela. He’s just a bit… eccentric. When he’s not being charming, that is.”
Jon: “I’m sorry Aela, I was just stunned by the sight of your beauty and clear physical prowess, you know? As I said, you are a machine tuned for war. I’m just impressed and in awe of you.”
Aela the Huntress: “Fine, Jon. I accept your apology. Though I think you’re exaggerating a bit. I’m just a skilled huntress, not a machine.”
Uthgerd: “He’s just a romantic at heart. Besides, you have to admit, you are quite the fighter. Maybe we can discuss this… side job of yours, Jon?”
Jon: “Very well, Aela. I will make my proposal. To explain myself better, I will give you some background. I have been shopping around town for possible companions, and we came across Jenassa, that Dunmer warrior who usually hangs out at the Bannered Mare. She asked for 500 gold coins to join our adventurer’s band. Isn’t that an exorbitant sum? Well, anyway, we didn’t hire Jenassa because she’s too expensive. Then, I thought, ‘There surely are other great warriors in town who won’t ask such exorbitant sums, who will be open to accompanying me and Uthgerd and Alva, my other beautiful companion, in some whimsical adventures through the breadth of Skyrim for glory, loot, and friendship, and maybe romance.”
Aela the Huntress: “So, let me get this straight. You’re looking for someone to join you on these… whimsical adventures, and you’re willing to pay them, but not as much as Jenassa wanted?”
Jon: “I’m not sure I said ‘pay them.'”
Uthgerd: “Ah, Aela, don’t worry about the gold. We can discuss that later. What Jon is trying to say is that he wants someone with your skills to join us on our travels. We’ll face danger, battle fierce foes, and have each other’s backs.”
Jon: “Yes, Aela, imagine yourself hunting down the fiercest beasts of the land, trolls and spriggans and more trolls and possibly wolves. Perhaps dragons in the future. We’re not ready to fight dragons, but that’s a distant possibility. So, aren’t you interested in becoming the best huntress in the world?”
Aela the Huntress: “Dragons? You think I’m not ready to fight dragons? I’ve taken down my share of beasts. And I’m not just talking about trolls and spriggans.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, Jon, you’re really selling this, aren’t you? Aela, he’s not trying to imply that you’re not capable of taking down dragons.”
Jon: “What I’m trying to convey is that we need you because you’re the best, the fiercest, the most beautiful, the most sexy warrior I have ever seen, a definite huntress of my heart. We need your abilities. We’re going to be out there on serious adventures and we will need someone with your expertise with a bow and arrows.”
Aela the Huntress: “I think I’ve heard enough of your… creative recruiting pitch.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, I think you’ve convinced her, Jon. Or at least, you’ve convinced her to consider our offer. So, what do you say, Aela? Will you join us on our adventures?”
Jon: “Did that really sound like Aela was considering my pitch, Uthgerd? You’re being far too optimistic.”
Aela the Huntress: “Ha! Uthgerd, I think you’re reading too much into my silence. I’m not considering anything, Jon. At least, not yet.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, come on, Aela. Don’t be like that. We could use someone with your skills. And Jon’s… unique charm isn’t so bad once you get used to it.”
Jon: “You mean my charm is bad in the beginning? It seems I need to work on myself.”
Aela the Huntress: “Well, at least you’re aware of it. That’s a good start.”
Uthgerd: “Jon, don’t be too hard on yourself. We like you, rough edges and all. Now, Aela, seriously, will you think about joining us? We could use a skilled huntress like you.”
Jon: “Aela, I’m just going to ask you this, and if you don’t want to answer now, I won’t bother you anymore, but… would you be willing to join us at some time?”
Aela the Huntress: “Fine, Jon. I’ll give you a straight answer: I’ll think about it. But don’t expect me to make any promises or commitments right now.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, that’s all we can ask for, Aela. Thank you for considering it. We’ll be around if you change your mind or want to talk more about it.”
Jon: “I gotta say… even an ‘I’ll think about it’ coming from you, such a gorgeous huntress, is enough to fill my heart with possibility, so thank you for your time, thank you for your patience, and I hope to see you around sometime.”
Aela the Huntress: “You’re making me roll my eyes. Just leave before I change my mind about thinking about it.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! Well, I think that’s our cue to leave, Jon. Let’s give Aela some space and not wear out our welcome.”

In a corner of Jorrvaskr, away from its proud warriors, I wondered who on earth could we bring into our band, someone who wouldn’t demand money.

Jon: “Hey, dear Uthgerd, when I asked you whom we could pursue to join our little adventurer’s band, you suggested a girl named Ria, related to the Companions, but she isn’t here. Do you have any clue where she hangs out?”
Uthgerd: “She’s a young one, eager to prove herself. I’ve seen her around Whiterun, mostly at the training grounds near the city gate. She’s been trying to get in with the Companions, but they haven’t taken her seriously yet.”
Jon: “Hey, if she is not a full-fledged companion yet, maybe we could take advantage of that and pilfer Ria for ourselves.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, you think like a true Nord, don’t you? Always looking for an angle to gain an advantage. I like that about you. Yeah, let’s go find Ria and see if she’s interested in joining us. I’m sure she’d be eager to prove herself, and we could use someone with her enthusiasm.”

We strolled around the streets of Whiterun while I thought back on the dialogues we had at Jorrvaskr.

Jon: “By the way, Uthgerd, let me clear with you: I appreciate the role you’ve played in our recent conversations, how you were on my side and supporting my angle. It’s refreshing to have such a good person beside me.”
Uthgerd: “Standing by those I respect and fighting for what’s right. You’ve earned my respect, Jon. And I have to admit, it’s been a while since I’ve had someone like you to battle alongside. Someone who can keep up with me, that is.”
Jon: “Oh yeah, I can hardly wait to get out there, leaving behind these safe walls, and locate some fiends for us to defeat together.”
Uthgerd: “That’s the spirit! By Ysmir, I can already taste the thrill of battle! Nothing like the rush of facing a fierce beast or a band of ruthless bandits to get the blood pumping! And with you by my side, I know we’ll make a formidable team.”

I spotted a promising candidate for our band of fierce warriors: a lone girl-child seated on a bench under bare tree branches.

Jon: “Hey, who are you, and why would you be a suitable warrior for our band of adventurers?”
Lucia: “Oh, hello… I’m Lucia. I don’t know if I’d be any good at fighting, but I’m willing to try. I’ve been on my own for a while now, and I’m used to taking care of myself.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, a feisty one, eh? I like that. What makes you think you can handle yourself in a fight, little one? You’re just a child.”
Jon: “Girl, I just approached you as a joke. I was walking around with Uthgerd, my beautiful and motherly companion, trying to find suitable warriors for our band, when I saw you, a literal child sitting on a bench, and I thought, ‘Wouldn’t it be funny to offer the position to her?'”
Uthgerd: “Ha! You think you’re funny, don’t you, Jon? Approaching a child to join our band of warriors. I’m not sure if that’s amusing or just plain cruel.”
Lucia: “I… I don’t think it’s funny. I may be a child, but I’ve had to grow up fast. My mother died, and my aunt and uncle kicked me out of our farm.”
Jon: “Well, this is… this is suddenly not funny anymore. I’m sorry about that, Lucia, I didn’t intend for your mother to die. Of course, I had nothing to do with it, though.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, Jon, you can be a bit of a fool sometimes. Of course you didn’t have anything to do with her mother’s death. Just apologize for your thoughtless joke and be done with it.”
Lucia: “It’s okay… I know you didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just… life has been tough for me lately.”

I lowered myself onto the bench beside Lucia.

Jon: “Do you want a listening ear regarding your childish troubles?”
Uthgerd: “Oh, great. Now you’re going to play counselor, Jon? I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. You’re not exactly known for your sensitivity.”
Lucia: “No… it’s okay. I don’t mind talking about it. It’s just… after my mother died, my aunt and uncle took over our farm and kicked me out.”
Jon: “How dare… how dare they?! Your aunt and uncle, what a pair of bastards, kicking out an innocent child from their farm and forcing her into homelessness. That is devilry! Those are fiends, they are monsters! They may have been Daedra in disguise!”
Uthgerd: “Jon, spare the dramatics. It’s not like the child needs more excitement in her life. Just listen to her and offer some practical advice, for once.”
Lucia: “I… I don’t know if they’re Daedra or not, but they’re definitely cruel. I’ve been living on the streets ever since, trying to make do with what little I can scrounge up. It’s hard… sometimes I don’t know how I’ll make it through the day.”
Jon: “Uthgerd, this poor child is making me tear up. I don’t know what to do about it. I’m not supposed to cry. I am a man.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, for the love of Ysmir… don’t be such a fool, Jon. It’s okay to show some compassion. You don’t have to be a heartless rock all the time.”
Lucia: “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you sad. It’s just… it’s been really tough for me lately.”
Jon: “What kind of help do you need, Lucia? What can I do for a child like you as the powerful leader of a growing adventurer’s band?”
Uthgerd: “Ah, now that’s more like it, Jon. Offering help instead of just tears. Let the child tell you what she needs.”
Lucia: “Well… I don’t know if you can really help me, but… I just need a place to live, I guess. A home. And maybe someone to take care of me.”
Jon: “That is a very reasonable need, but the issue is… I am homeless myself. I do not have a home. I am lodging at the Bannered Mare. Maybe I do not look homeless because I’m all geared up, but we walk from job to job, from adventure to adventure, and I do not have a home to call my own. It is sad.”
Uthgerd: “Jon, don’t be dramatic again. You’re not exactly homeless, you’re just… adventurously inclined. And besides, I’m sure you could afford to rent a house if you wanted to.”
Lucia: “Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that. I thought you were just being kind to me because you had a big house or something.”
Uthgerd: “But actually, Jon, that gives me an idea. If you’re serious about helping this child, we could look into getting a house.”
Jon: “You know… getting a house wouldn’t be so bad. Obviously, we would need a lot of money, but it would work as a base of operations for our adventurer’s band. As the owners of a building, we could adopt children as help, as decoration, to improve the happiness of the place. Maybe we could bring in Lucia first.”
Uthgerd: “You’re actually considering settling down? I’m shocked. But I suppose it’s not a bad idea. A house could be useful for our… extracurricular activities. And adopting children could be…”
Lucia: “Really? You’d consider adopting me? Oh, thank you!”
Jon: “Oh, a single look at you, mommy Uthgerd, and I want to settle down and have children.”
Uthgerd: “Jon, stop calling me mommy! I’m a warrior, not a maternal figure. And besides, I’m not exactly the settling-down type. But… I suppose it’s flattering that you think of me in that way.”
Lucia: “Wait, does this mean… you’d really adopt me? And give me a home? Oh, please say yes!”
Jon: “Lucia, listen to me, darling… We still do not have a home, but I’m considering climbing the necessary steps towards one day owning a home. Once we do, I shall return to Whiterun and tell you, little girl, ‘Please come with us, with this menacing and fierce band of adventurers, because you’re going to become our adopted child.'”
Uthgerd: “Jon, you’re making promises to this child. Make sure you can keep them. Don’t get her hopes up only to disappoint her later.”
Lucia: “I understand… I’ll wait. I’ll be here in Whiterun, and I’ll wait for you to come back and get me. Please don’t forget about me!”
Uthgerd: “Don’t worry, child. If Jon here forgets, I’ll make sure to remind him.”
Jon: “Oh, I can’t stop these tears. Please, Uthgerd, wipe them for me.”
Uthgerd: “Oh, for Ysmir’s sake, Jon. You’re really milking this whole tough warrior with a heart of gold thing, aren’t you? There, are you satisfied now?”
Jon: “I am very satisfied, mommy.”
Uthgerd: “Argh! Stop calling me mommy! I swear, Jon, you’re pushing your luck! I’m a warrior, not your mother!”
Jon: “I’m sorry about that, Uthgerd. As for you, Lucia, here, have a flower. A beautiful flower for a beautiful flower like yourself.”
Lucia: “Oh, thank you! It’s so pretty!”
Uthgerd: “I’m surrounded by sentimental fools…”
Jon: “Hey, Uthgerd, it was not nice to call her a sentimental fool. She’s just a child.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, shut up, Jon. I wasn’t calling her a sentimental fool. I was calling you one. And maybe myself, for putting up with your nonsense.”
Lucia: “It’s okay… I think Uthgerd is just joking. She seems nice, even if she is a little mean sometimes.”
Jon: “Yeah, Uthgerd is wonderful, but I think I’m pushing her buttons right now, so let’s end this conversation. And Lucia, wait for us, okay? This is a promise to you, a child. One day I’m going to return and snatch you from the streets to carry you to a house you have never seen before, to live among people you don’t know. Look forward to that.”
Uthgerd: “That sounds like a kidnapping, not an adoption.”
Lucia: “I’ll wait… I’ll be here. And I’ll be ready to go with you when you come back for me.”
Uthgerd: “Fine. Let’s get out of here before you scare the child any more, Jon.”
Jon: “But she does not look scared, just hopeful. Maybe she would welcome any kind of situation that provides her a ceiling, you know. After all, she’s seated outside in the rain.”
Uthgerd: “It’s just a little rain. And yes, the child does look hopeful.”

Half an hour later, that Ria person was nowhere to be found. As a woman in her mid-twenties, wearing a dress, was descending the stairs to the market district, I intercepted her for an interview.

Jon: “Hey, who are you, and why would you be a valuable person to add to my adventurer’s band?”
Ysolda: “Ah, nice to meet you! I’m Ysolda, a local tradeswoman with a keen eye for business and a passion for adventure. I’ve heard rumors of your… exploits, and I must say, I’m intrigued. As for why I’d be a good fit for your group, well, I’ve got skills in negotiation and trade that could come in handy on the road.”
Uthgerd: “Oh please, Ysolda, you think haggling over prices is going to help us in battle? We need warriors, not merchants.”
Jon: “Yeah, to be honest, Ysolda, I approached you as a sort of a joke. Uthgerd and I have been roaming the city for a while, trying to find suitable warriors for our mercenary band, but we haven’t found anyone decent, or who wanted to join us for a reasonable fee, so I thought it would be funny to approach a child, who happened to be homeless. After that bit, I have approached you, a random woman, to repeat the same kind of joke and make Uthgerd laugh.”
Ysolda: “Well, I suppose I’m flattered to be the punchline of your joke, Jon. But let me tell you, I’m not just any random woman. I’ve got spirit and determination, and I’m not afraid to stand up for myself. And who knows, maybe I’d surprise you and prove to be a valuable addition to your little band.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! I doubt it, Ysolda. You’re a trader, not a warrior.”
Jon: “I hadn’t given you a proper look, Ysolda, but now I can tell that you are not an average woman. You are very cute, aren’t you?”
Ysolda: “Oh, Jon, you’re quite the charmer. But I’m not just a pretty face, I assure you. I’ve got brains and wit, and I know how to take care of myself. And besides, being cute doesn’t exactly qualify me for battle, does it?”
Uthgerd: “Spare us the flirting, Jon. We’re trying to put together a fighting team, not a harem.”
Jon: “Actually, I’m going for a fighting team and a harem. Anyway, Ysolda, what kind of fighting skills do you have? Picture this: we’re facing a dragon, and you have no choice but to fight alongside us tempered warriors. Of what use could you be in that battle?”
Ysolda: “Well, I’m not exactly a skilled warrior, Jon. But I’m a quick learner and I’ve got a bit of spirit. And as for fighting skills, I’ve had to defend myself against the occasional drunk or overzealous customer at the market. But facing a dragon? Ha! I think my skills would be more useful in… well, in distracting the dragon while you two tempered warriors take it down.”
Jon: “My goodness, you’re willing to be bait for a dragon! You are one crazy determined woman, Ysolda.”
Ysolda: “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds a bit reckless, doesn’t it? But I like to think of it as… creative problem-solving. And I’m willing to do what it takes to prove myself.”
Uthgerd: “You’re not exactly filling me with confidence, Ysolda. We can’t have you running around getting yourself killed just to prove a point.”
Jon: “Yeah, Ysolda, why are you so willing to join a random adventurer’s band? Are you not happy in Whiterun?”
Ysolda: “Ah, Whiterun’s a great city, don’t get me wrong. But I’ve always felt like there’s something more out there for me. I’ve got ambitions, Jon. I want to own the Bannered Mare one day, and to do that, I need to make a name for myself and earn some real gold. Joining your group could be just the opportunity I need to make that happen.”
Uthgerd: “You’re thinking about business opportunities in the middle of a conversation about fighting dragons?”
Jon: “This one, she’s a tradeswoman through and through. A shopkeeper at heart. And what was that about wanting to take over the Bannered Mare? Are you planning on murdering Hulda, the innkeeper?”
Ysolda: “Oh, no, no, no! Nothing like that, Jon! I want to buy the Bannered Mare from Hulda, not murder her. I’ve always dreamed of running my own inn, and the Bannered Mare is the best in Whiterun. Hulda’s a good friend, and I’m sure she’d be happy to sell to me… for the right price, of course.”

Jon: “Ysolda, do you want to become an innkeeper who once was the bait for a dragon? Is that the sort of backstory you would offer your patrons?”
Ysolda: “Well, when you put it that way, it does sound a bit… unusual. But I think it could be a great story to tell, don’t you? Come stay at the Bannered Mare, where the innkeeper once bravely distracted a dragon for a group of adventurers! It’s got a certain charm to it, don’t you think?”
Uthgerd: “You’re impossible, Ysolda. You’re actually thinking about how to spin this as a marketing opportunity.”
Jon: “Uthgerd, this Ysolda, she’s growing on me. Do you think we could add her to our adventurer’s band, even though she would be completely useless?”
Uthgerd: “Fine, Jon. If you want to bring a liabilities-loving, dragon-baiting, innkeeper-wannabe along on our quest, that’s your decision. But don’t come crying to me when she gets herself killed.”
Ysolda: “Oh, thank you, Jon! I promise I won’t be a burden. And who knows, maybe I’ll surprise you and prove myself to be more useful than you think.”
Uthgerd: “I doubt it.”
Jon: “Ysolda, I’m not convinced about your usefulness for our adventurer’s group. I think you are eager, disturbingly determined to become part of our band. You’re scaring me a bit. So, Ysolda, we’ve heard your piece. We will consider it. As for now, Uthgerd and I have to keep roaming the town and shop around for other possible candidates. But we’ll have you in mind, Ysolda. Keep up the good work and try not to murder anyone.”
Ysolda: “Oh, I completely understand, Jon. I wouldn’t want you to rush into anything. Take your time, consider your options. I’ll just… continue to prepare myself for the possibility of joining your group. I’ll make sure to keep my enthusiasm in check.”
Uthgerd: “Let’s get out of here, Jon. Before she decides to prepare herself by practicing her dragon-baiting skills on the local wildlife.”

We walked away from that lunatic.

Jon: “Uthgerd, that Ysolda woman is a bit of a nutcase, don’t you think?”
Uthgerd: “Ysolda’s got spirit, I’ll give her that. A bit of a wild card, but maybe that’s what we need. Still, I’m not convinced she’d be much use in a real fight. We can’t have dead weight holding us back when the steel starts flying.”
Jon: “Well, I’m convinced that she would be completely useless in a fight.”
Uthgerd: “At least you’re not blind to her limitations. I just hope you’re not thinking of bringing her along out of pity or some foolish notion that she’ll grow into it. We can’t afford to babysit anyone on the battlefield.”

The sun was about to set, but we hadn’t achieved anything other than bothering people.

Jon: “We have a little problem, Uthgerd. The only person of value who’s willing to join us so far is Jenassa, that Dunmer sellsword, who is asking too much money. Today was a complete waste.”
Uthgerd: “She’s a mercenary through and through. We need someone with skills, but not some overpriced sellsword or a green recruit who’s going to get us killed. What’s the plan, then?”
Jon: “We should probably locate that Ria girl you mentioned, so that’s in the works.”
Uthgerd: “She’s usually at the training grounds, not exactly hard to find. But yes, let’s go talk to her soon. She’s eager to prove herself, and we might be able to use that to our advantage. Just don’t expect me to go easy on her, I’ll be testing her mettle as much as you will.”
Jon: “Listen, Uthgerd, I have to be clear with you, and a bit serious, despite my usually joking demeanor. When I was in Morthal, that marshy town to the northwest of here, I ventured into a den of vampires.”
Uthgerd: “I think I know where this is going. You’re saying that you’ve faced some darkness, and you’re looking to build a team that can handle the real threats out there. Am I right?”
Jon: “My goodness, Uthgerd, you can read my mind! You are so amazing, apart from beautiful and sturdy, and… I’m not going to say the other word because you will get mad at me. But yes. The point you made is exactly what I meant.”
Uthgerd: “Spare me the flattery, Jon. I’m not some blushing maiden to be won over with words. We’re having a serious conversation, remember? You’re saying that you need a strong team to take on the real threats in Skyrim, and I’m saying that I’m with you on that.”
Jon: “Well, we are back at the Mare, sole inn in Whiterun, and there are some folks here that we haven’t interviewed yet. Let’s get on with it, right?”
Uthgerd: “Who’s the next person on your list?”

I approached a hunched figure seated at the bar: a disheveled old man who was nursing an ale, clearly drowning his sorrows.

Jon: “Hey, Arghus, you see my sturdy companion here? The both of us have spent the whole day shopping around for candidates to join our band of adventurers, and now that we’re back at the Mare, I thought… how about the old man who’s constantly sitting at the bar, nursing an ale? Would you be willing to contribute to our group?”
Arghus: “Ah, you think I’m some kind of charity case, boy? You think I’m just sitting here waiting for a handout or a chance to join some foolish adventurer’s band? I’ve got news for you, kid. I’ve seen more adventure in one day than you’ve had in your entire life.”
Jon: “Arghus, you told me that you had experienced hunger like the worst, and battle like the best. We want a seasoned warrior by our side. I’m sure you’re still able to wield a greatsword, a crossbow, or a cleaver, and help us in our endeavors.”
Arghus: “Ah, a seasoned warrior, you say? Ha! You have no idea what I’ve been through, boy. I’ve fought battles, yes, but I’ve also lost everything that ever mattered to me. My daughter, my wife, my home… all gone. And now you think I’m just going to pick up a sword and fight for you? You think I’m that desperate?”
Jon: “So, joining our band of adventurers is something only a desperate person would do, huh? Is that what you’re implying?”
Arghus: “Ah, isn’t it, though? Only someone with nothing to lose would throw their lot in with a bunch of reckless adventurers like yourselves. Mark my words, you’re just a bunch of fools waiting to get yourselves killed.”
Uthgerd: “That’s enough, Arghus. We’re not just reckless adventurers. We’re a team, and we’re looking for people who want to be part of something bigger than themselves.”
Hulda: “Now, now, let’s not have any trouble here, folks.”
Jon: “Uthgerd, I approached Arghus here to offer him a position in our adventurer’s band as a joke, but now he’s pissing the hell out of me.”
Uthgerd: “Ah, I thought as much. You were just trying to get a rise out of him, weren’t you? Well, I think you’ve succeeded.”
Arghus: “A joke, was it? You think my life is a joke? You think you can just waltz in here and offer me a position in your little band and then laugh about it? You’re even more arrogant than I thought.”

I leaned closer to the old man and glared at him.

Jon: “Well, yeah, Arghus, that is exactly what I did, and I guess you’re going to take it, because you are an old man who won’t even travel to the Reach to rescue his daughter.”
Arghus: “You… you dare to bring up my daughter?! You know nothing about it! You know nothing about what it’s like to lose someone you love! You’re just a heartless, arrogant little…”
Uthgerd: “Jon, that was uncalled for. You have no right to speak to him like that. Arghus, calm down, don’t let him get to you.”
Jon: “Arghus, I am the voice of your conscience, telling it to your face: stop sitting here and imbibing alcoholic drink after alcoholic drink. Stand up, walk out of Whiterun, and head to the Reach to rescue your daughter.”
Arghus: “Shut up! You don’t know what it’s like to be me! You don’t know what it’s like to have failed as a father, to have lost everything that matters! I’m not just sitting here drinking because I’m lazy, I’m sitting here because I’ve given up. Because I’ve lost all hope.”
Uthgerd: “Arghus, stop. Just stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Jon: “If you say you have given up, Arghus, then I guess I cannot argue with you, but perhaps in that case you should stop pretending that you are strong enough to face anything, because the truth is, you are not even strong enough to go in search of your daughter.”
Arghus: “You want to know the truth?! I’m not strong enough! I’m a broken man! I’m a failure as a father, as a husband, as a man! I’m just a shell of what I used to be!”
Hulda: “Oh, Arghus, stop. Please, just stop. You’re hurting yourself.”
Uthgerd: “Jon, I think you’ve made your point. Leave him be.”
Jon: “Well, sorry to have bothered you, Arghus. Here, have some coin. Buy yourself another ale and drown your sorrows.”
Arghus: “Ah, thank you, boy. Thank you for rubbing it in. Keep your pity. I don’t need it.”
Uthgerd: “Well, that was well handled, Jon. You’ve managed to hurt an old man’s pride and push him further into his darkness.”
Hulda: “I’ll just go check on him, make sure he’s alright.”
Jon: “Pushing people further into darkness is what I was born for.”
Uthgerd: “Well, congratulations, then. You’ve certainly succeeded with Arghus. I’m not sure I want to be traveling with someone who takes pleasure in hurting others, though.”

A pang tore through my chest.

Hulda: “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Jon. Can’t you just show some compassion for once? He’s a broken man, and you’re just making things worse.”
Jon: “It was a joke. Everything was a joke. I didn’t mean it. Do not be angry with me, please. It was a bit, that whole thing. I didn’t mean it.”
Uthgerd: “Save it, Jon. You think you can just say something like that and then claim it was a joke? Arghus didn’t find it funny. And neither did I.”
Hulda: “Oh, Jon, you’re a bit of a handful, aren’t you? I’m not sure what to make of you. One minute you’re charming and the next minute you’re…”

I rubbed my face and started to turn away.

Jon: “I’m sorry. I’m going to have a nap and reset my mental state. Please don’t mind me.”
Uthgerd: “Fine, go take your nap. Maybe when you wake up, you’ll have a bit more sense.”
Hulda: “Yes, go ahead, Jon. I’ll make sure to keep an eye on Arghus and make sure he’s alright. You just… try to be more considerate in the future, okay?”
Arghus: “Considerate… Ha! Don’t hold your breath…”

• Previous part (13)
• Next part (15)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We returned to the safety behind Whiterun’s walls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• Previous part (12)
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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, fled from a religious fanatic because he praised the cuteness of a vampire, he along with his vampire companion mocked a Dark Brotherhood clown, and the both of them finally managed to reach the town of Whiterun.

Jon: “Hell yeah, Alva. It’s half past four in the morning and we have made it to Whiterun. Look at these beautiful Nord houses. Let’s find the local inn and rent a room for the day.”
Alva: “I must say, the city looks quite… lively, even at this hour. And the architecture is indeed impressive. Those Nord-style longhouses are a sight to behold. But, I’m more concerned about finding a place to rest for the day. As a vampire, I’m not exactly… fond of sunlight.”
Jon: “So this is the local inn, huh? The Bannered Mare. Looks cozy enough, I suppose.”
Alva: “It’s about time we got some rest. I’m feeling a bit… peckish, and the sun will be rising soon. Let’s get a room and make sure it’s suitably dark.”
Jon: “Alva, whose blood are you drinking tonight?”
Alva: “I wasn’t thinking of anyone in particular, just yet. Perhaps we can discuss that later, in private. For now, let’s focus on getting a room and avoiding any unwanted attention.”

A fair, middle-aged woman was tending to the bar.

Jon: “Hey, are you the innkeeper here?”
Hulda: “Ah, yes! Welcome to the Bannered Mare, dear traveler. I’m Hulda, the innkeeper. What can I get you?”
Jon: “Well, Hulda, my companion and I were looking for a room with a sturdy double bed if possible, a bed that would withstand plenty of activity, if you know what I mean.”
Hulda: “Ah, I think I do, young man. Well, I might have just the thing for you and your… companion. We have a room with a sturdy double bed, one of our finest. It’s a bit more expensive, but I think it’ll withstand whatever activity you have in mind.”
Alva: “Oh, I think that sounds perfect, Hulda. We’ll take it.”
Jon: “You weren’t surprised about my requirements. I suppose you get plenty of such requests, don’t you?”
Hulda: “Well, let’s just say I’ve been running this inn for a long time, and I’ve heard it all, dear.”
Jon: “Oh, this innkeeper is kind of fun, don’t you think so, Alva?”
Alva: “Indeed, I do, Jon. She has a certain… spark to her. And I’m sure she’s heard all sorts of interesting stories from her guests.”
Hulda: “Oh, you have no idea, dear. I’ve heard enough tales to fill a library.”
Jon: “Do you have any rumors with which to grace two travelers like ourselves?”
Hulda: “Ah, now that you mention it, there is something going on in Whiterun. The Companions, they’re recruiting new members, from what I hear.”
Arghus: “Ah, the Companions? Bah! A bunch of self-righteous warriors thinking they’re above the law. Mark my words, they’ll bring trouble to this city.”

A disheveled old man nursing an ale at the bar had chosen to intrude into our conversation.

Alva: “Oh? And what makes you so certain of that?”
Jon: “Hey, who told you to barge into our conversation, old man?”
Arghus:” Ah, no one told me I couldn’t, young traveler. And I’ll speak my mind whenever I please. You’d do well to show some respect to your elders.”
Hulda: “Oh, now, now, Arghus, no need to get testy. The young man was just asking a question.”
Jon: “It seems this Arghus fellow has gotten so old that he no longer gives a fuck.”
Arghus: “Ha! Let me tell you, boy, I’ve lived long enough to see empires rise and fall. I’ve earned the right to speak my mind and not care about your tender feelings.”
Alva: “Oh, I think Arghus has a point there, Jon. Age can be quite liberating… in more ways than one.”
Jon: “Shhh, Alva! You’re not supposed to suggest that you’re older than you look.”
Arghus: “Oh, don’t worry, boy. I wasn’t planning on suggesting such a thing. A trader derelyna crowe us occassion, nat incmay horm!”
Jon: “I wasn’t talking to you, old man, and that was mainly gibberish. Ah, whatever. Please, innkeeper, show us to our room so we can enjoy a few hours of rest, me and my gorgeous companion.”
Hulda: “Alright, alright, I’ll show you to your room. Follow me, please. And try to keep the… enthusiasm to a reasonable level, hmm?”
Alva: “Oh, don’t worry, Hulda. We’ll be perfect angels.”
Arghus: “I doubt that.”
Jon: “Hey inkeeper, is it too much too much to ask for you to join us, my beautiful companion and I, for a bit of fun?”
Hulda: “Oh, I think that’s quite enough, young man. I’m flattered, but I’m a bit too old for such… shenanigans. And besides, I have an inn to run.”
Alva: “Ah, come now, Hulda. We promise to be gentle.”
Arghus: “You’re a disgusting pair, you know that? No respect for your elders or for decency itself.”
Jon: “Shut up, old man, we are not talking to you. Anyway, innkeeper, you don’t have to worry about looking too old for the kind of bedroom activities that Alva and I engage in, you know? You’re perfectly beautiful as you are.”
Hulda: “That’s… quite enough, young man. I’m not interested in whatever it is you’re proposing. And even if I was, I think I’d have the good sense to keep it out of my business. This is a respectable inn, after all.”
Alva: “Oh, come now, Hulda. Don’t be such a prude. We’re just trying to have a little fun.”
Jon: “Alright, I respect that, I suppose. Well, Alva, I’m guessing we are not going to get our threesome tonight.”
Alva: “I suppose not, Jon. But that’s alright. We’ll just have to make our own fun… in private, of course.”
Hulda: “Please, try to keep the noise down. Some of my other guests might actually be trying to sleep.”
Arghus: “Ugh, I need a drink after listening to this conversation…”
Jon: “As for you, old man, the next time you try to intrude into our conversation, you will know why they call me a Master Poisoner. Just saying.”
Arghus: “Ah, threats from a young punk like you? I’m shaking in my boots. Bring it on, Master Poisoner. I’ve seen more danger in a jar of expired ale.”
Hulda: “Oh, stop it, both of you! This is getting out of hand. Just go to your room and leave Arghus alone.”
Jon: “All right, all right, all right. We’ll leave it be for tonight. I’m too tired from the road after all.”
Arghus: “Master Poisoner, indeed… trouble’s brewing with that one…”

Alva and I had barely taken three steps when a sight dazzled me.

Jon: “Oh hey Alva, have you noticed that warrior-seeming woman? Look at those piercing, clear-blue eyes of hers. She seems very intriguing, don’t you think?”
Alva: “Ah, yes. She does exude a certain… aura. I think I’d like to get to know her better.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ah, you’re talking about me, I presume? What’s there to know? I’m Uthgerd, the strongest woman in Whiterun.”
Alva: “Oh, the strongest, you say? That’s quite a claim.”
Jon: “Hey, Uthgerd, you sound like the kind of woman whom plenty of men would love to call mommy.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Oh, is that so? Well, I suppose I do have a certain maternal quality to me. But don’t let that fool you, boy. I can knock a man off his feet with one swing of my fist.”
Alva: “I think Jon was just trying to compliment you, Uthgerd. Though perhaps not in the most… conventional way.”
Jon: “Oh, a strong mommy who can nurture you and also punch you across the room? We have to get this one in our team, Alva.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ha! You think I’m some kind of novelty, don’t you? A strong woman who can fight and mother you at the same time? Well, let me tell you something, boy. I’m not here to coddle anyone. I’m here to fight.”
Alva: “I think Jon was just joking, Uthgerd.”
Jon: “Was I joking? I’m not sure myself. Uthgerd, you said you’re not here to coddle anyone, but are you here to cuddle?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “By Ysmir… You’re a bold one, aren’t you? I suppose I do have a softer side, but don’t think for a moment that I’m some kind of plaything. I’m a warrior, and I won’t be treated like some tavern wench.”
Alva: “Oh, Jon, I think you’re getting a bit too forward. Let’s just focus on getting to know Uthgerd, shall we?”
Jon: “Actually, Alva, I think I’m a bit too horny, and I’m finding targets for my horniness everywhere. I think it would be better to retreat for the morning into that room we’ve just rented, and leave Uthgerd alone for a while.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ha! Well, I suppose I’ve had enough of your attentions for one night, boy. Yes, please, by all means, retire to your room. I think I can handle myself without your help.”
Alva: “Let’s just go. Before you make any more of a scene.”
Jon: “Oh, I do love how she calls me boy, there is something special about that.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Don’t get too used to it, boy. I only use that term for amusement. Don’t think it’s an invitation for anything more.”
Alva: “Jon, really. Let’s just go to our room before things get any more… complicated. Uthgerd, it was enlightening speaking with you.”

The next few hours proceeded as expected. I woke up next to the pale, lovely face of an undead woman.

Jon: “Alva, how nice to wake up next to you on this lovely day.”
Alva: “Ah, Jon, it’s always a pleasure to wake up next to you, no matter the time of day… or night. And I must say, I’m feeling particularly… thirsty at the moment.”
Jon: “What, you didn’t have your fill last night with the activity that we put the bed under?”
Alva: “While our… activities were certainly satisfying, I’m afraid my thirst can’t be quenched so easily. Besides, I think we both know that I have certain needs that require attention from time to time. But I’m sure you’ll take care of me, won’t you?”

I offered my neck for Alva to feed.

Jon: “Well, have a bit of a bite.”
Alva: “Ah, Jon… you’re so trusting, so willing to give me what I need. Mmm… your blood is always so sweet…”
Jon: “Oh, a huge erection so early in the day. What a beautiful way to continue the journey of life.”
Alva: “Ah, Jon, you’re such a romantic. But perhaps we should focus on getting dressed and starting our day, rather than getting too distracted. After all, we have a city to explore, and who knows what adventures await us?”
Jon: “Well, Alva, I was considering the following: we’re going to make the Bannered Mare our center of operations in Whiterun for now. With that security in place, we will find new members for our little band of adventurers, to fill the gaps in our abilities. We’ll start with interviewing a few of the capable people that tend to gather around. Are you okay with that?”
Alva: “That sounds like a good plan, Jon. The Bannered Mare is a great place to gather information and meet new people. And, of course, it’s convenient for me to… rest here during the day. I’m sure we’ll be able to find some interesting and capable individuals to join our little group. Just be careful who you trust, Jon. We don’t want any…”
Jon: “Yes, we don’t want a repeat of that bandit Eisa, who robbed us.”
Alva: “Ugh, don’t even remind me of that… woman. I’m still furious about the whole thing. But, yes, let’s just say we’ve learned our lesson and will be more… discerning in our choice of companions from now on.”
Jon: “Can we agree on the following: no bandits as companions?”
Alva: “Oh, absolutely, Jon. I think that’s a rule we can both live with. No bandits as companions. We’ve had quite enough of that sort of company already, don’t you think? Let’s focus on finding people with a bit more… integrity, shall we?”

I scouted the inn for suitable targets, and focused on a crimson-eyed Dunmer wearing good leathers, who carried herself with the air of a determined pro.

Jon: “Hey, excuse me. Who are you and why would you be a great addition to my band of adventurers?”
Jenassa: “I am Jenassa, a Dunmer mercenary with skills in stealth, archery, and melee combat.”
Jon: “Are you a sort of mercenary for hire? I mean, a regular mercenary then.”
Jenassa: “Blade and shadow, silence and death – these are my arts. For a modest fee, I’ll make great art for you. I’ve no qualms with morals or ethics, so long as the pay is good.”
Jon: “Oh, I like her.”
Alva: “A mercenary with no qualms about getting her hands bloody? How… refreshing.”
Jon: “Yeah, it sounds like a good fit for us, given our prospective shady activities. Don’t you think so, Alva?”
Alva: “Indeed, it does. I like her style. Though, I must admit, I’m a bit curious about what drives her… enthusiasm for carnage.”
Jenassa: “Gold, battle, and the thrill of the hunt. What more reason does one need to take up the blade?”
Alva: “Ah, a true warrior, then. I approve.”
Jon: “Well, why not just try her out? Hey, Jenassa, how much money would you require to accompany us in some adventure?”
Jenassa: “A modest sum, really. I require 500 gold pieces to take on a job. It’s a small price to pay for the skills I bring to the table.”
Alva: “Modest? You have an interesting definition of modest, Jenassa.”
Jenassa: “The price is non-negotiable. If you’re not willing to pay it, then perhaps we’re not suited for each other.”
Jon: “Hey Alva, didn’t Eisa Blackthorn, that bandit who robbed us, say that the price on her head was just a measly 100 gold?”
Alva: “Ah, yes, Eisa Blackthorn. What a… charming individual. And yes, her price was quite reasonable, wasn’t it?”

Jenassa: “I’m worth five times that bandit’s price, and I intend to prove it to you. If you’re willing to pay the fee, that is.”
Alva: “Oh, I think we can scrounge up the gold for someone as…”
Jon: “Hey, Jenassa. If I told you you have very big beautiful crimson eyes, would you consider reducing the price?”
Jenassa: “Save your flattery for the tavern maids, patron. My price is fixed. You’ll not be charming your way into a discount with me.”
Alva: “Oh, I think Jenassa has your number, Jon. You won’t be sweet-talking her into a better deal.”
Jenassa: “Now, are you going to pay my fee, or waste my time with empty words?”
Jon: “Well, for now, I guess we wasted your time with empty words, but we’re going to scrounge up the money required to pay such an exorbitant fee. But, you know, we’ll also shop around for other candidates. We’ll return to you if we decide to consider your services further.”
Jenassa: “As you like, patron. Don’t bother looking for me when you’ve got the gold, I’ll be here at the Bannered Mare, or at the Drunken Huntsman, my usual haunt. I’ll be waiting for your… generous offer.”
Alva: “It was enlightening speaking with you, Jenassa. Perhaps we’ll see each other again soon.”
Jenassa: “I’d like that, Alva. And Jon… don’t bother trying to haggle when you come back. The price will remain the same.”

We barely had 500 gold on us, and we needed to consider food and lodging. While looking around for other candidates, I noticed a woman I had anticipated meeting again.

Jon: “Well, if it isn’t mommy Uthgerd. You’re still here. We just talked to Jenassa, that Dunmer mercenary down there, and she requested 500 gold coins for her services as a murderer for hire. Don’t you think that is a bit exorbitant?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Don’t mock me, boy. I’m not your mommy, and I’ll have you know that I’m the strongest woman in Whiterun. As for Jenassa’s price, that’s between her and whoever is foolish enough to hire her. What business is it of yours?”
Alva: “Oh, Jon, always so quick to stir up trouble.”
Jon: “Wait a second, foolish? You suggest that hiring Jenassa is foolish?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “If you’re looking for someone with real strength and combat skills, I’m right here in front of you.”
Jon: “Oh, Uthgerd! Would you be willing to join Alva and I in our shady adventures, even though I’m likely to call you mommy throughout them?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “You think you’re funny, don’t you, boy? I’m not afraid of a little teasing. If you think you can handle having me by your side, I might consider joining you. Just don’t expect any special treatment just because you’ve got a clever tongue.”
Alva: “Jon, I think you should be careful what you wish for. Uthgerd doesn’t exactly seem like the type to suffer fools gladly.”
Jon: “Then how the hell would she enjoy being part of our group? She would have to suffer my presence constantly.”
Alva: “Ahahah, good point, Jon. I think you’re already testing Uthgerd’s patience.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Enough of this banter! If you want to know if I’m interested in joining your little group, let’s get down to business. What kind of adventures are we talking about? And what’s in it for me?”
Alva: “Oh, this should be interesting. Go ahead, Jon, tell her about our plans…”
Jon: “Yes, Alva. Uh… what were our plans again?”
Alva: “Ahahah, nice try, Jon. You’re trying to deflect the question. But I think Uthgerd deserves an answer. To be honest, Uthgerd, we were thinking of putting together a group for… various opportunities. Perhaps some treasure hunting, exploring abandoned ruins, and other ventures.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Various opportunities? That sounds like a euphemism for getting into trouble.”
Jon: “Yes, Uthgerd, it is actually getting into trouble: conquering bandit camps, delving into ancient ruins and snatching ancient relics. That sort of shit. You see the blade that my companion has at her hip? That’s the kind of material we’re looking for.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ah, now we’re talking. Conquering bandit camps, delving into ancient ruins… That sounds like the kind of challenge I’ve been looking for. And what’s this relic that Alva has acquired?”
Alva: “Oh, Jon’s referring to the Pale Blade. It’s a rather… troublesome artifact. But quite useful in a fight, I must say.”
Jon:” Yeah, that beautiful weapon is a relic sword called the Pale Blade. We stole it from the depths of some ancient ruins, and we had to fight an ancient spirit called the Pale Lady to acquire it. Isn’t that the kind of adventure you want to be involved in?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ah, now that’s a story worth telling. Fighting an ancient spirit to claim a relic sword? That’s the kind of battle I’d love to be a part of. You know, I think I’m starting to like you two. You’re not just a couple of foolish adventurers after all.”
Alva: “Ah, thank you, Uthgerd. We try to keep things interesting.”
Jon: “That’s right, Uthgerd. I know I could count on a strong, sturdy mommy like you.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “That’s it, boy! I’ve had enough of your mommy nonsense! You’re pushing your luck. I’m a warrior, not some maternal figure for you to cling to. Show some respect, or I’ll show you what a real Nord woman can do!”
Alva: “Oh dear, Jon, I think you’ve awakened the bear.”
Jon: “Does showing me what a real Nord woman can do involve some wrestling?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “I’ll have you know that I’m not just skilled with a sword. I can take down a man like you with my bare hands. And yes, that might just involve some wrestling.”
Alva: “Oh, this is getting interesting. Uthgerd, are you challenging Jon to a wager?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “A hundred gold pieces says I can take him down in less than a minute.”
Jon: “Oh my goodness, I’m loving Uthgerd more and more by the moment.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Save your sweet talk for someone else, boy. I’m not impressed. You’re going to have to prove yourself to me, and it’s going to hurt. Now, are you going to accept my challenge or not?”
Alva: “Ah, Jon, I think you’d be wise to remember that Uthgerd is a warrior. She’s not someone to be trifled with.”
Jon: “Hey Uthgerd, let me be clear here. If I best you in a brawl, will you become our warrior? Will you accompany us on whimsical adventures to conquer bandit camps and steal ancient relics from ancient spirits?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ah, you think you can beat me in combat? I doubt it, but I like your spirit. Very well, boy. If you can best me in a fair fight… I’ll join you on your little adventures. But don’t expect any favors or special treatment just because you might manage to win.”
Alva: “And what about if Jon loses, Uthgerd? What do we owe you then?”
Jon: “I’m a bit afraid of the answer to that question, but please answer it, Uthgerd.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ahahah, you should be afraid, boy. If you lose… You and your friend here will have to buy me drinks for a week at the Bannered Mare. And I don’t mean just any drinks… I mean the finest ale and mead they have to offer.”
Alva: “Oh dear, Jon. That’s a steep price to pay. Are you sure you’re up for this?”
Jon: “Would that cost more than the fee Jenassa is asking to become our mercenary?”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Comparing the cost of losing to me to the cost of hiring that Redguard mercenary, Jenassa?”
Jon: “She’s a Dunmer.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Well, let me tell you, boy… I’m worth more than any amount of gold. And if you want me by your side, you’ll have to prove yourself worthy. So, are you going to put your money where your mouth is, or are you just going to sit there and waste my time?”
Jon: “No, I absolutely accept your challenge. I’m going to put my mouth where your mouth is. I mean, I’m going to put my fist where your mouth is. Nevermind. Follow me outside, please, so we can fight in the streets.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ahahah, you’re a bold one, I’ll give you that. Alright, let’s take this outside. But don’t say I didn’t warn you… I’m going to enjoy watching you squirm. Come on, then! Let’s go!”

A couple of local guards eyed us with curiosity as we faced each other in the market plaza.

Alva: “I think I’ll just stay here and enjoy the show from a distance.”
Jon: “Very well, Uthgerd. Let’s fight here, in the market plaza, in front of the inn. Let’s have a bout to prove if you’re worthy of joining our little band of adventurers.”
Uthgerd the Unbroken: “Ha! You think you can take me down in the middle of the market? Bring it on, boy! I’ll show you what a real Nord warrior looks like! Let’s do this! No holds barred, no quarter asked or given!”
Alva: “Ah, this should be entertaining…”

• Previous part (11)
• Next part (13)

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, and his companion the vampire named Alva were robbed by a bandit. They proceeded, as a revenge of sorts, to erradicate that bandit’s previous bandit group, who had taken over an ancient ruin. In the depths of that ruin, they fought for the possession of a relic sword named The Pale Blade, a far more powerful weapon than they have any right owning.

While Alva slept the daylight away, I decided to explore the surroundings of the ruins to ascertain the direction we should take to reach Whiterun, and locate any buildings that could serve as shelter in case we couldn’t reach the city in another night of walking. I spotted an inn-like building atop a hill, and I headed there to figure out how useful it could be for our shady purposes.

When I entered the building, I found myself in the presence of heavily armored warriors who didn’t seem to be in the mood to make any friends. One of them was their clear leader, as clarified by having a proper name, so I approached her carefully.

Jon: “Excuse me, miss. I was just passing through and saw this building. I thought it was an inn, but turns out I’m now surrounded by a bunch of well-armed people who seem to belong to some order. Is that the case?”
Viranya: “You’ve stumbled upon the Hall of the Vigilant. Yes, we are an order, dedicated to the service of Stendarr, the God of Righteous Rule by Might and Merciful Forbearance. We are holy warriors, tasked with protecting the innocent and vanquishing the forces of darkness that threaten Tamriel.”
Jon: “The forces of darkness like… what?”
Viranya: “The Daedra, vampires, lycanthropes, and other abominations that plague our world. They have no place among the living, and it is our duty to hunt them down and eradicate them. Stendarr’s mercy is not for the likes of them.”
Jon: “So you hunt vampires, huh? Well, would you consider that maybe, maybe some of them are redeemable?”
Viranya: “Redeemable? Vampires? I think not. They are creatures of the night, driven by their thirst for blood and their contempt for mortal life. They play with the lives of the innocent, toying with them as if they were mere puppets. No, I have no sympathy for vampires. They are abominations, and they will be dealt with as such.”
Jon: “Even though they were normal people before someone bit them and turned them into vampires?”
Viranya: “That may be true, but once they have been turned, they are no longer the same. The curse of vampirism corrupts them, body and soul. They become creatures driven by their basest desires, with no regard for the lives of others.”
Jon: “To be fair, I know plenty of humans who are driven by their basest desires, with no regard for the lives of others.”
Viranya: “I’ll not argue that point. Mortals can be just as flawed and wicked as any vampire, but mortals can choose to change, to seek redemption and forgiveness. Vampires, on the other hand, are forever bound to their curse, and their very existence is a mockery of life itself.”
Jon: “But aren’t some of those vampires very… cute?”
Viranya: “Cute?! You think the damned are cute?! I’ll have you know, vampire charm is a snare, a trap to lure in the unwary. Do not be fooled by their appearance or their words. They are monsters, and they will stop at nothing to claim your soul!”

Before I knew it, this tough woman was wielding her sword and attempting to hack at me with it. I found myself fleeing for my life. She didn’t stop at the threshold of the Hall of the Vigilant: she pursued me downhill. I shouted over my shoulder to calm her down.

Jon: “I’m sorry for finding some vampires cute! I didn’t mean anything bad by it. Do not kill me!”

The woman’s shouts were thankfully sounding farther and farther away.

Viranya: “You’ll beg for mercy now?! After speaking so flippantly about the forces of darkness?! You’ll find no quarter here, fool! Stendarr’s justice will be served!”

I lost her. Before that scary woman spotted me again, I made sure to sneak into the ruins that Alva and I had conquered.

Jon: “I gotta talk to you, Alva. While you were having your beauty sleep, I was scouting the surroundings when I came across a building that I thought was an inn, but it turns out that it belongs to some order called the Vigilants of Stendarr. Are you aware of them?”
Alva: “Ah, the Vigilants of Stendarr. Yes, I’m familiar with them. A group of self-righteous vampire hunters, dedicated to eradicating the likes of me from the face of Tamriel. And you, dear Jon, were considering walking into their midst?”
Jon: “No, I actually walked into their midst by mistake, and found myself surrounded by heavily armoured religious fanatics.”
Alva: “Oh, the look on your face must have been priceless. I can only imagine the zealous Vigilants, armed to the teeth, and you, strolling in, expecting a warm fire and a pint of ale. You’re lucky to have gotten out of there alive. Did they… suspect anything about you? About us, I mean?”
Jon: “Actually, Alva, I’m afraid it was a little bit worse than that. When they told me that they hunted vampires, I tried to argue with them.”
Alva: “Ah, Jon, Jon, Jon… what were you thinking?! Arguing with the Vigilants of Stendarr about vampires? That’s like poking a sleeping bear with a sharpened stick! They’re fanatics, Jon.”
Jon: “Well, I told them that maybe some vampires could be redeemed, and that they could be cute.”
Alva: “Oh, Jon… I think you might have just sealed our fate. Telling the Vigilants that vampires can be cute? They’ll be hunting us down with torches and pitchforks now. You’ve all but painted a target on our backs.”
Jon: “Oh, please, they really didn’t get a good look at my face, and they don’t know you at all. Listen, I have to defend your cuteness, even against the Vigilants of Stendarr.”
Alva: “I think you’re the first person in centuries who’s ever thought of me as cute. I must admit, it’s rather… refreshing.”
Jon: “No, I’m sure there were dozens or hundreds of people who thought of you as cute. They just wouldn’t say to your face in case you sank your fangs in them.”
Alva: “Jon! You’re a witty one, aren’t you? I suppose you’re right, though. There may have been those who thought me… appealing, but were too afraid to say so. After all, I do have a certain reputation to uphold.”
Jon: “Well, I don’t mind if you sink your fangs in me. Last night was quite interesting.”
Alva: “I did find our little… encounter last night quite intriguing. But I think we should be careful not to get too distracted. We do have more pressing matters to attend to, don’t we?”
Jon: “Well, yeah, reaching Whiterun for one. But I bet that when we reach Whiterun and find ourselves with nothing to do during the day, we’re going to have some fun.”
Alva: “Jon, you’re making promises, aren’t you? I like that. Towns can be a bit… dull at times, but I think we can find ways to liven things up.”
Jon: “Well, it’s night-time already. Do you think it’s a good time to finally leave Frostmare Crypt and brave the wilds toward Whiterun?”
Alva: “The night is young, and the road to Whiterun awaits! And I’m sure we’ll make good time. Shall we be off?”

At one point, the road led us past the sight of the Hall of the Vigilant.

Jon: “Do you see that building in the distance, atop the hill? That’s the Hall of the Vigilant, where those Stendarr freaks are set up. I tell you this in case one day you accidentally wander into it like I did.”
Alva: “I appreciate the warning, Jon. I must admit, I find it quite amusing that you stumbled upon their headquarters thinking it was an inn. I can only imagine the looks on their faces when you walked in, unaware of the danger that lurked within.”

We came across a fort taken over by bandits. They were too busy fighting the local wildlife to notice us, so we pressed on.

Jon: “Where the hell is Whiterun? That guard told me it was within walking distance. I don’t see any settlement within walking distance.”
Alva: “I’m afraid he may have been exaggerating about the distance to Whiterun. We’re still a ways off, it seems. But don’t worry, we’ll get there eventually.”

Thirty minutes or so later…

Jon: “Finally, a sign that points toward Whiterun! At least we know that we’re heading the right way. Too bad the sign didn’t specify the distance.”
Alva: “Well, isn’t that just our luck? I suppose we’ll just have to keep moving and hope that we stumble upon it soon. Or, at the very least, find someone who can give us a better idea of the distance.”
Jon: “This cold is getting to me, Alva. Do you feel the cold as humans do?”
Alva: “The cold? Ha! As a vampire, I barely feel it. It’s almost… refreshing, really. But I can see it’s taking its toll on you, Jon. You’re shivering like a leaf. Perhaps we should find some shelter soon? This place looks like it might have some decent cover from the wind, at least.”
Jon: “No way. Given that herd of mammoths, the place belongs to giants. There’s no way I’m approaching them.”
Alva: “Those giants can be a bit of a problem, can’t they? Well, let’s see… I think I can help with that. Why don’t I sneak up behind the giant and try to take it out quietly? My vampiric stealth should come in handy here. You take care of the mammoths, and I’ll handle the giant.”
Jon: “Oh, Alva, you’ve never fought a giant, have you?”
Alva: “Well, I’ve had my share of battles, Jon, but I must admit, giants aren’t typically on the menu for vampires. We tend to stick to more… refined prey. But I’m not one to back down from a challenge. And with you by my side, I think we make a decent team.”
Jon: “The trouble is, one hit of that club of theirs, you’ll be sent straight to the stratosphere.”
Alva: “Ah, yes, I can just imagine it now. One swing of that giant’s club and I’d be flying over the mountains, a tiny vampire-shaped projectile soaring through the air. Not exactly the most dignified way to go, is it? But don’t worry about me, Jon. I think I can handle myself.”

We found an unexpected stop by the side of the road.

Jon: “Look at this: the opening of a cave. A mysterious cave with some examples of ancient masonry scattered about. Do you think is it worth it to delve into this cave and figure out what’s awaiting us?”
Alva: “Oh, I think it’s more than worth it, Jon. The thrill of the unknown is intoxicating, don’t you think? And what better way to warm up on a cold night like this than to venture into a mysterious cave? Besides, I can sense that there’s something… enticing about this place. The ancient monoliths, the eerie silence…”

We entered the frozen cave. We could hear growling deeper in.

Jon: “That’s a saber cat. How does one deal with saber cats, do you know?”
Alva: “Saber cats, how delightful. Well, I’m sure your Flames spell will come in handy, Jon. As for me, I’ll just rely on my natural talents to take care of them. Stealth and speed are usually the best ways to deal with those beasts. Shall we proceed?”
Jon: “I hope you’re right, darling, because we’re going in.”
Alva: “I love your confidence, Jon. And don’t worry, I’ll be right by your side… or perhaps a step ahead, leading the way into the darkness. Let’s see what secrets this cave holds, shall we? And do try to keep up, I wouldn’t want you to get lost in the shadows.”

The saber cat wasn’t the only kind of enemy we encountered, but the spriggan that ambushed us fell quickly to a combination of Alva’s new blade and my arrows.

Alva: “It seems we’ve stumbled into a bit of a spriggan’s den, haven’t we, Jon? Well, I suppose that’s one way to liven up a cold winter’s night. All those arrows flying about, it’s almost like a little dance.”
Jon: “I am not too keen on letting arrows fly about, in case you find yourself in the path.”
Alva: “Considerate of you, Jon. I appreciate your concern for my well-being, even if I am a vampire. It’s… touching, really. But don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself. Besides, I rather enjoy the thrill of being in the midst of all this chaos. It’s exhilarating, don’t you think?”
Jon: “Well, this is as far as the cave goes. A single saber cat, a single spriggan, and a big chest with a few things.”
Alva: “It seems our little excursion has come to an end, Jon. And what a lovely haul we’ve got to show for it; I like this new bow you’ve gifted me.”
Jon: “Part of being successful adventurers is constantly upgrading our gear, like that Pale Blade you are wielding right now. It’s sure to bring fear to most of our opponents.”
Alva: “The Pale Sword. Yes, it’s a lovely piece of work, isn’t it? And I must say, I do feel a certain… satisfaction in wielding it. The way it slices through the darkness, the fear it inspires in our enemies… It’s almost poetic.”
Jon: “A fitting weapon for a vampire, isn’t it? Most of your kind inspire that kind of fear in others. Not you of course, at least in me.”
Alva: “Yes, a fitting companion for a creature of the night such as myself. And I’m glad to hear that I don’t inspire fear in you. At least, not yet, anyway.”
Jon: “Not yet, huh? That sounds ominous. I expect that traveling with you more, accruing more adventures, is only going to diminish any fear I might feel toward you.”
Alva: “Jon, you’d be surprised at what the darkness can bring out in people… even in those they care about. But let’s not worry about that now, shall we? We have more pressing matters to attend to. Like these… beasties that are trying to tear us apart.”

We left the snowy fields behind, and now, as far as we could see, the landscape was composed of hill-dotted plains.

Jon: “Alva, there’s a windmill and a farmhouse in the distance. Do you think we should pay them a night-time visit?”
Alva: “That could be a lovely little distraction for the evening. And who knows, perhaps the inhabitants might even provide us with some… entertainment. I do so love a good midnight visit, don’t you, Jon? The thrill of sneaking in under the cover of darkness, the rush of adrenaline as we catch them off guard…”
Jon: “Along with, I suppose, the satisfaction of exsanguinating a recently deceased corpse as you did with some of the bandits we killed at that ruin.”
Alva: “Ah, yes… that was quite… satisfying, wasn’t it? The thrill of the hunt, the rush of power as I claimed their life force for myself. And now, as we stand here on this quiet farm, I can feel the call of the night growing stronger.”

As I descended a slope, the sight of a stranded wagon opened up. Standing beside it was a strange little man dressed as a jester. He kept complaining about his bad luck to nobody in particular. I wouldn’t need to ask his name, as he kept referring to himself in the third person.

Jon: “Cicero, you said. I think that people would be more eager or more open to help you in freeing that wagon of yours if you didn’t talk in such an unnerving manner.”
Cicero: “The kindly stranger thinks poor Cicero’s mannerisms are…”
Jon: “I used the word unnerving.”
Cicero: “Ah, unnerving, yes! Well, perhaps, dear sir, you are correct. Poor Cicero’s eccentricities may be a hindrance to acquiring aid. But how can one expect a Keeper of the Night Mother to be normal?”
Alva: “What’s all this commotion about?”
Jon: “This little guy here dressed like a jester is having a bit of trouble with his wagon. It seems it has gotten stuck in the road, and he was asking for help.”
Alva: “What makes you think I’d be interested in helping him, Jon?”
Cicero: “Oh, dear lady, please! You must help poor Cicero! The Night Mother’s coffin is within! We cannot leave it stranded here for all to see! The ignorant masses would not understand its significance…”
Jon: “Oh, don’t worry, Alva. I’m not planning on going around helping every little fool we come across. I was just trying to figure out if the situation was entertaining enough.”
Cicero: “Ah, entertainment, is it? Well, I assure you, dear Jon, my predicament is far more intriguing than mere entertainment! The Night Mother’s coffin holds the key to… restoring the Dark Brotherhood to its former glory!”
Alva: “The Dark Brotherhood, you say? Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. Tell me, little jester, what makes you think you’re worthy of such a task?”
Jon: “Hey, Cicero, that was your name, wasn’t it? Are you sure you should be telling two complete strangers about this ‘Dark Brotherhood’?”
Cicero: “Ah, secrets, secrets, always so concerned about secrets! But poor Cicero has nothing to hide! The Dark Brotherhood will rise again, and all of Tamriel will tremble at its power!”
Alva: “Oh, I think this one’s a bit of a loose tongue, Jon. Either that or he’s trying to impress us with his supposedly sinister plans.”
Cicero: “Loose tongue? Impressive plans? Ha! You mock poor Cicero now, but soon you’ll see…”
Jon: “What does this organization of yours, the supposed ‘Dark Brotherhood,’ consist of?”
Cicero: “Ah, the Dark Brotherhood! We are the bringers of darkness, the makers of death! An organization of assassins, bound by a sacred oath to the Night Mother…”
Alva: “Assassins, how… fascinating. And what’s this I hear about a Night Mother? Some sort of dark deity?”
Cicero: “Deity? No, no, no! The Night Mother is far more than that!”
Jon: “Is it a mother that cuddles you at night and tells you what a good boy you are?”
Cicero: “Oh, oh, oh! You mock poor Cicero’s devotion to the Night Mother! But you wouldn’t understand, no, no! The Night Mother is the one who whispers contracts in my ear… She is the one who guides my blade…”
Alva: “Oh, this is priceless. A grown man taking orders from an imaginary mother figure. Tell me, Cicero, do you still suckle at her breast?”
Jon: “Alva, to be fair, there are plenty of men out there who take orders from imaginary mother figures.”
Alva: “Ah, true enough, Jon. I suppose it’s a matter of perspective. Some men worship their gods, while others… well, others have the Night Mother.”
Cicero: “Enough! You both mock poor Cicero’s faith! But I’ll have you know, the Night Mother is very real! And those who cross her path will feel the sting of her wrath…”
Jon: “You said that the Night Mother whispers in your ear. When she does, do her lips caress your skin, making you feel real tingly?”
Cicero: “Oh, you… you… How dare you! The Night Mother is not some… some… seductress! She is a sacred figure, a symbol of death and darkness! Her whispers are not sweet nothings, but the cold, hard truths of the contracts that must be fulfilled!”
Alva: “Oh, Jon, I think you’ve struck a nerve. Poor Cicero seems to be getting a bit…”
Jon: “Hey, death and darkness can be very seductive by themselves. Just look at Alva.”
Alva: “Ah, flattery will get you places, Jon. But I must say, I’m intrigued by the… darker aspects of life. And death.”
Cicero: “Silence! You’re both mocking poor Cicero again! But I’ll have you know, the Night Mother is not to be trifled with! She is a power to be reckoned with, and those who cross her will suffer the consequences!”
Alva: “Oh, I’m shaking in my boots. Do tell, Cicero, what kind of consequences can we expect?”
Jon: “Yes, do tell, Cicero. You’re like four feet five.”
Cicero: “Ah, my height! You mock poor Cicero’s physical stature! But size is not everything, my friends! The power of the Night Mother is not to be underestimated! I have brought death to many a larger and more imposing foe…”
Alva: “Oh, I’m sure you have. With your… impressive jestering skills and all. But tell me, Cicero, what’s the most creative way you’ve killed someone?”
Jon: “He probably annoyed them to death.”
Cicero: “Enough! You both mock poor Cicero’s abilities, but I assure you, my methods are far more… sophisticated than mere annoyance! I am a master of the art of assassination!”

Alva: “Oh, I’m sure your victims quake with fear at the sight of your… colorful attire. Do tell, Cicero, what’s the story behind that interesting outfit?”
Jon: “That is actually a good question. Why the hell are you dressed like a jester?”
Cicero: “Ah, the outfit! Yes, well… You see, I… I have a certain… appreciation for the art of jestering. A certain… fascination with the jesters of old. This attire is a… tribute, of sorts. A nod to the great jesters who have come before me.”
Alva: “And, of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that you were once contracted to kill a jester, and then became obsessed with him, does it?”
Jon: “Oh, dressing in the attire of your victims, huh? That is an interesting character trait, I think.”
Cicero: “Silence! How did you…? Ah, no matter. Poor Cicero’s past is of no concern to you. The jester’s attire has become a part of me, a symbol of my… uniqueness. And I will not be judged for it!”
Alva: “Oh, but we are judging you, Cicero. We’re judging you very much.”
Jon: “Alva, I’m afraid that we cannot keep wasting time with this clown. It’s already three in the morning; we have to find shelter before sunrise.”
Alva: “Ah, finally, a voice of reason. Yes, let’s leave Cicero to his… Night Mother, and find some rest. I’m not exactly thrilled about being out in the open when the sun rises.”
Cicero: “Ah, but our conversation was just becoming… enlightening! Very well, leave poor Cicero to his duties. Our paths will cross again, and next time, the Night Mother will not be so…”
Jon: “The next time the Night Mother will not be so dead and corpse-like? Anyway Cicero, good luck with your problem, and keep on clowning.”
Cicero: “YOU DARE! YOU… YOU… Poor Cicero will not be mocked! The Night Mother will rise again, and when she does, you will tremble before her! Mark my words, Jon… The Night Mother will not be silenced…”

We climbed uphill toward the farmhouse.

Jon: “What a total weirdo that guy was.”
Alva: “Certainly one of a kind. But I must say, I find his devotion to the Night Mother rather… fascinating. And a bit unsettling, to be honest.”
Jon: “Hey Alva, if I call you Night Mother, will you whisper sweet nothings in my ear?”
Alva: “Oh, Jon, you’re such a charmer. But I think I’ll have to pass on that nickname. And as for whispering sweet nothings in your ear… Maybe later, when we’re alone and not surrounded by blighted wheat. But for now, let’s focus on finding shelter and getting some rest. This farm up ahead looks like it might have a barn or something where we can hide out for the day.”

The door was unlocked, so we waltzed in.

Jon: “Yeah, the two occupants of the farmhouse forgot to lock their door and now they’re peacefully sleeping, even though we’re talking inside their room. These people have no sense of self-preservation.”
Alva: “Ah, the trusting nature of rural folk. It’s almost… quaint. But let’s not get too comfortable, we don’t want to overstay our welcome.”
Jon: “Well, their bed is already occupied. Let’s try to run to Whiterun, that is already in the distance. We should be able to make it before sunrise.”
Alva: “Ah, Whiterun, a bustling hub of activity. Hopefully we can find some… more substantial accommodations there. But let’s hurry, the sun is rising fast and I don’t want to be caught out in the open when it does. Try to keep up with me, Jon. I’m not exactly sluggish.”
Jon: “Oh, a group of bandits is assaulting a watchtower. We have to ignore them if we want to make time.”
Alva: “You’re right, we don’t have time to deal with them now. Let’s just hope they’re too busy with the watchtower to notice us slipping by. Come on, Jon, let’s keep moving! We can’t afford to get bogged down in a fight right now. Whiterun is just ahead.”

Shortly before sunrise, we made it to the town of 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, along with his companion the vampire named Alva, took shelter in a mine somewhat close to Morthal. My character took a shit on someone else’s private nook.

That guard at Stonehills had told me that Whiterun was within walking distance in a certain direction, so Alva and I followed that direction. We didn’t see signs of modern civilization anywhere, but quite a few ancient ruins guarded by bandits. As we were approaching one of them to figure out if we could take shelter from the sun, in case we didn’t come across anything resembling a town nearby, we noticed a common sight: three people ganging up on someone else. This time we felt compelled to intervene: the three attackers had the word “bandit” in their names, and the fourth person was a named character, so we knew whom we would benefit from helping.

Once the bandits fell, this fourth person, a woman with raggedy gear, short hair and a painted face, attempted to walk away.

Jon: “Hey, wait, don’t leave yet. You seem like a capable warrior despite your dubious origin.”
Eisa Blackthorn: “Who says anything regarding my origins? What do you know about my past? Speak quickly!”
Alva: “Oh my… someone seems testy tonight…”
Eisa Blackthorn: “Shut your mouth! This doesn’t involve pretty little ladies such as yourself playing gossipmonger.”
Jon: “I’m just interested. I get the feeling that you would have been able to put down those three bandits by yourself, and you look like you have a story to tell. My companion Alva and I are outlaws of sorts, so maybe we could help each other.”
Eisa Blackthorn: “Who in Dagon’s name are you? Speak, or I’ll cut you down where you stand. You think a little help from you makes us friends? I was doing just fine on my own, thank you very much.”
Alva: “Oh, don’t be too harsh. We mean no harm… unless we’re threatened, of course.”
Eisa Blackthorn: “Save it for someone else, vampire. What do you want from me?”

I was shocked. It took one single look for this random woman to realize what the residents of Morthal couldn’t figure out for years. Then again, their level of intelligence played against them.

Jon: “Wait a second, you can tell that Alva is a vampire?”
Alva: “Ah, yes… it seems my little secret is out. How did you know? Not many people can recognize one of the undead so easily.”
Eisa Blackthorn: “Let’s just say I’ve had my share of run-ins with your kind. Besides, it’s not like you’re doing a great job of hiding it. What’s with the getup? Trying to blend in with the locals?”

Alva: “Oh, this old thing? Just a little something I threw together.”
Jon: “Alva had gotten bored of a life consisting of seducing hicks and trying to take over the town she lived in, so she and I decided to roam the breadth of Skyrim, have whimsical adventures, and cause some trouble.”
Eisa Blackthorn: “Oh, you two are a pair, aren’t you? Whimsical adventures and causing trouble? You’re either very brave or very stupid. I’m not sure which one it is yet.”
Alva: “Oh, we’re a bit of both, I think. But it’s been… liberating, to say the least. No more pretending to be something we’re not.”
Jon: “So how about you? If I heard your attackers correctly, apparently you belonged to their bandit group but you liberated yourself from it? I know that the vampire and I are a pair of strangers, but what are your plans?”
Eisa Blackthorn: “Liberated? Ha! I was forced out, more like it. Kyr’s got a price on my head now. 100 gold, to be exact. As for plans… I was thinking of laying low for a while, maybe heading to the Moorside Inn in Morthal to gather my thoughts.”
Alva: “Ah, Morthal! That’s where Jon and I came from. We had a bit of… fun there, didn’t we, Jon?”
Jon: “I wouldn’t call it that. We had to leave Morthal because there’s a nearby coven of vampires who soon enough will overrun the town and kill everybody. I think it would be a terrible idea for you to head there as a place to lay low.”
Eisa Blackthorn: “Vampires? You mean, like her? Great, just what I need. More trouble.”
Alva: “Ah, don’t worry. We’re not all bloodthirsty monsters… well, not all the time, anyway. But yes, Jon’s right. Morthal isn’t safe for anyone right now. Movarth’s coven won’t take kindly to… mortals.”
Jon: “And I’m afraid that the vampires holed up at Movarth’s lair are not exactly like Alva. This one’s very reasonable and fun to be around. The others have lost to their darkness. They are bloodthirsty and unbeatable vampires. It really is a poor idea for you to head down there.”
Eisa Blackthorn: “Movarth’s lair? I’ve heard of that place. It’s a death trap, even for someone like me. Alright, I believe you. Morthal’s not an option, then.”
Alva: “Yes, it’s best to avoid the area altogether. Trust me, you don’t want to encounter Movarth or his followers. They’re… not like me at all. I have Jon here to thank for… civilizing me, I suppose.”
Jon: “Alva and I were heading to Whiterun. There will be plenty of shadows to hide in there. Maybe we could contact some underground element in order to earn a living. You seem very capable yourself. Would you want to come along with us?”

Eisa chuckled dryly.

Eisa Blackthorn: “Ah… I’ve got some experience with Whiterun’s shadows myself… but I suppose it’s better than wandering around Skyrim alone with Kyr’s price on my head… Alright then… I’ll join you two misfits for now… don’t expect me to do any fetching for either one of you.”
Alva: “Yes, we expect nothing but constant bloodlust from our newest friend here.”
Eisa Blackthorn: “Not bloodlust, vampire. Revenge, perhaps, however… there’s safety in numbers, right?”

Hell yeah, we got ourselves a dedicated melee party member, and I didn’t have to pay for it. It wouldn’t look right, nor reflect good on the rest of us, for Eisa to remain in that shabby gear, so I lent her some decent leathers as well as an executioner’s axe.

Jon: “Hey, Eisa, what are you good at exactly? As for me, I’m a mage, pretty good with spells and that kind of nonsense. Alva is a dexterous and full-hearted vampire.”
Eisa Blackthorn: “Ahahah! Full-hearted vampire? That’s rich! Alva here seems more like a… spirited conversationalist to me.”
Alva: “Oh? Spirited conversationalist?”
Eisa Blackthorn: “Anyway, Jon asked what skills I possess. To answer simply: axe wielding and warrior skills.”
Jon: “Good to know, and nice to hear you two girls getting along.”
Eisa Blackthorn: “Ahah! I never said I was getting along with the bloodsucker over here! Vampire or not, Alva has yet to prove herself worthy of my trust.”
Alva: “Worthy? Ha! Trust needs to be earned, I agree. However, I must point out that distrust may result in broken friendships. Jon dear, tell Eisa Blackthorn all about yourself. Perhaps she’ll trust easily after hearing your tales?”
Jon: “I’m just enjoying the two of you bantering. I’m used to Alva just being wary of everyone because she has to protect herself constantly.”
Eisa Blackthorn: “It’s not every day I get to meet a vampire who’s so chatty. You’re quite the interesting one, aren’t you?”
Alva: “Oh? And what exactly do you find so interesting about me, Eisa? My fangs? My aversion to sunlight? Or perhaps my taste in men?”
Eisa Blackthorn: “Well, I suppose it’s all of the above. But mostly, I’m intrigued by your… confidence. Most people in your position would be hiding in the shadows, not flaunting their nature like a badge of honor.”

Even though Eisa had just escaped from the ruins and the bandit group inhabiting it, she agreed to follow us inside, as we had to secure some shelter where Alva wouldn’t be scorched by the sun. Shortly after we entered the place, we put down a couple of bandits.

Jon: “Where is Eisa? She was here a moment ago.”
Alva: “Oh, don’t worry about her, Jon. She’s probably just scouting ahead, making sure the coast is clear. Besides, I’m sure she wouldn’t just abandon us without a word… would she?”

I couldn’t tell if Alva was being sarcastic, mainly to mock my trustful nature, but yes, Eisa had disappeared. That bitch had left with the gear I had lent her, and an axe that had been one of my most prized possessions.

Alva: “Oh, Jon, you really are too trusting. It seems Eisa has lived up to her bandit reputation after all.”
Jon: “Ah, yes. We did know she was a bandit.”
Alva: “Well, I suppose that’s one way to get rid of unwanted travel companions. Now it’s just the two of us again, isn’t it?”
Jon: “As much as I love to be with just you, Alva, the fact is that we could have used a tank in our group. You know, someone to take the beatings and charge straight at the opponents.”
Alva: “A tank, how… amusing. You’re right, of course. Eisa’s skills would have been useful in a fight. But don’t worry, Jon, I can take care of myself. And you’re more than capable of handling yourself in a tight spot. Besides, I rather enjoy watching you scramble to keep up with me.”
Jon: “Always glad to please and entertain you, Alva.”

As we ventured deeper into the ancient ruins, I couldn’t get out of my head the sudden betrayal of someone I had just met.

Jon: “I still can hardly believe that we were robbed by Eisa. I’m too damn naive.”
Alva: “Poor dear Jon. Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re just… optimistic. And a bit of a fool when it comes to trusting people, but that’s part of your charm, isn’t it?”
Jon: “Anyway, do you hear the chatter that comes from ahead? There are a bunch of bandits waiting for us to club their heads in, so let’s go take some revenge on bandits in general.”
Alva: “Let’s go give them a show they’ll never forget, shall we? Or, at the very least, let’s make sure they won’t be remembering anything after we’re done with them. Lead the way, Jon.”
Jon: “Yeah, let’s go down the path of making those strangers unable to process anything through their brains once we’re done with them.”

The prospect of delving deeper and deeper into these ruins with no particular objective started getting to me.

Jon: “Is it really worth it at this point of our journey to conquer this place?”
Alva: “Come now, Jon. You’re not going to let a few bandits scare you off, are you? We’ve come this far together, and I must admit, I’m having a bit of fun. Besides, think of all the treasures we might find within these ruins. Gold, jewels, ancient artifacts… it’s all just waiting to be claimed.”
Jon: “Alright, you have convinced me immediately. Let’s exterminate those goddamn bandits.”
Alva: “That’s the spirit, Jon! I knew you had it in you. Now, let’s go show those bandits what we’re made of. I’ll take point and… distract them, shall we say. You can follow up with your spells and finish them off. We make a good team, don’t we?”
Jon: “Oh, we make the best team, Alva.”
Alva: “You’re switching to Frostbite, I see. Clever choice, Jon. It’s always good to have a bit of versatility in our arsenal.”
Jon: “Frostbite also allows me to support you: it saps the stamina of anyone attacking us, so they’ll be too tired to respond properly to your attacks.”
Alva: “You’re thinking ahead, Jon. I like that. Using Frostbite to weaken our enemies and leave them vulnerable to my… tender mercies. It’s a delicious strategy, really.”

I couldn’t recall how we got into that situation, but we found ourselves fenced in a narrow corridor, facing a wall of about ten bandits who taunted Alva by banging on their shields.

Jon: “That is a whole bunch of bandits we’re going to fight, Alva.”
Alva: “It seems we’ve got our hands full, Jon! I love it! The thrill of battle, the rush of adrenaline… it’s exhilarating, don’t you think? Now, let’s focus on taking down these bandits one by one. I’ll take care of this archer who’s been bothering you.”

The fight forced us to retreat outside, to the snowy stairs leading to the entrance of the ruin, but at the end we stood amidst bloody corpses whose blood tinted the snow.

Jon: “I cannot believe it, we killed like ten of them.”
Alva: “Ah, Jon, you’re a force to be reckoned with, aren’t you? I’ve never seen anyone cast Frostbite so many times in a row. You’re like a one-man winter storm!”
Jon: “Alva, I’m the one who’s impressed. If it weren’t for you, I would have fallen.”
Alva: “Don’t be modest, Jon. You held your own quite well. I was happy to help, of course. After all, that’s what partners are for. And I must say, it’s been a while since I’ve had so much fun in a fight.”
Jon: “Well, perhaps that was the entire bandit camp, and we have defeated all of them. We may get to explore the rest of these ruins in peace.”
Alva: “What a lovely thought, Jon. Peace and quiet, just the two of us, exploring these ancient ruins. It’s almost… romantic. But let’s not get too comfortable just yet. We don’t know what other surprises these ruins might hold. Still, I must say, I’m excited to see what we’ll find next.”
Jon: “You didn’t get to go on such adventures when you lived in Morthal, I’m guessing.”
Alva: “Morthal, Jon. It’s a… sleepy little town, to say the least. The most excitement I usually got was sneaking around at night, trying not to get caught by the townsfolk. But this… this is exhilarating. The freedom, the danger, the thrill of discovery…”
Jon: “Well, plenty of sights in Skyrim will offer tremendous excitement for the two of us to discover them together.”
Alva: “I can hardly wait, Jon. The thrill of exploration, the rush of battle… and the pleasure of your company. It’s a delightful prospect, indeed. And who knows? Perhaps we’ll find some hidden treasures, or stumble upon ancient secrets… The possibilities are endless, don’t you think?”

We came across some makeshift private quarters, candles still burning on the table.

Jon: “I have found the bandit leader’s journal. Check this out: apparently they were digging for treasure and they found an underground forest of sorts. There was a strange sword that caused one of the bandits to go crazy. He was Eisa’s companion, the bitch who robbed us. Apparently that other bandit fled somewhere with the sword. Sounds like an interesting relic, if we have the chance to recover it.”
Alva: “Ah, a strange sword, you say? And it drove one of the bandits mad? I think we should definitely try to find that sword. It sounds like it could be quite entertaining. And who knows what kind of power it might hold?”
Jon: “This bandit leader had a nice double hay bed. If we end up resting here, it would be sort of ironic for us to enjoy the comforts of the bed that used to belong to the leader of this place.”
Alva: “Ah, resting in the bed of the bandit leader, surrounded by the spoils of their own misdeeds. It’s almost… poetic. And who knows, perhaps we can even find some use for that double hay bed.”
Jon: “You’re constantly reading my mind, Alva.”
Alva: “Well, I like to think I have a bit of a knack for understanding people’s… desires. And I must say, you do seem to have a certain fondness for the finer things in life, don’t you? That mantle, for instance. It looks lovely on you.”

In a different room, we found two other journals.

Jon: “This note belongs to the crazed khajiit I mentioned before. He wrote it after finding the sword. Listen: ‘I see her in every shadow, hear her voice on every breath of wind, in my dreams, in my ears, in my mind. The Pale Lady. We have to stop her, just return the sword and we can shut her away forever. I can’t take this anymore.'”
Alva: “The Pale Lady, how… intriguing. It sounds like this sword has quite a dark history, doesn’t it? And this khajiit, he’s clearly been driven mad by its power. I must admit, I’m a bit curious about this Pale Lady myself. Who is she, and what’s her connection to the sword?”
Jon: “Well, we may as well follow this quest if we happen to find ourselves bored with nothing else to do.”
Alva: “You think of this as a mere diversion, something to alleviate boredom? I think there may be more to this than you realize, Jon. The Pale Lady, the sword, the madness it’s inspired… this has all the makings of a most intriguing adventure.”
Jon: “I think you might be right, Alva. Oh, this journal belongs to Eisa, the bandit who ran away with my gear. Listen to this bit right at the end: ‘The Pale Lady is coming for us. She’s down in the forest. We have to return the sword or she’ll kill us all.'”
Alva: “It seems fate has brought us full circle, hasn’t she Jon…? I smell bloodlust, I smell fear.”

We ventured even deeper, intrigued by the prospect of getting our filthy hands on that sword. We didn’t bother to count the bandits we killed along the way.

Jon: “These bandits are total pushovers, Alva. If I were a better person, I would start to feel bad for them.”
Alva: “They are hardly innocent. And even if they were, we’re not exactly in a position to be choosy about who we take advantage of. Besides, I’m having far too much fun to start feeling guilty now.”
Jon: “I’m not counting, but we must have killed at least twenty, right? Quite a decent number of deaths in one day to weigh on my conscience.”
Alva: “Well, you won’t have to worry about my death. I’m a vampire, remember? It’s not that easy to kill me.”
Jon: “No, but you still can permanently die, so I do worry, Alva.”
Alva: “Let’s not focus on the negative, shall we? We make a good team, and I’m having far too much fun to think about permanent death just yet.”

There wasn’t much loot to find.

Jon: “The bad part about venturing into ruins that are infested with bandits is that most chests are already looted by said bandits.”
Alva: “It’s a bit of a letdown, isn’t it? But I suppose that’s the price we pay for having such… enthusiastic predecessors. At least we’re finding some scraps here and there. That Nordic fragment might be interesting, don’t you think?”
Jon: “I was thinking the same thing. This seems like an archaeological fragment of sorts. It could interest a society I came across while walking around Solitude; apparently they are researching such ruins. Maybe the fragment could fetch a good price, if anything.”
Alva: “Is it the Bards’ College in Solitude you’re thinking of? Either way, I’m sure they’d be delighted to get their hands on something like that. And who knows, maybe we can get a decent sum of gold out of it.”

A whole bunch of nonsense happened: we broke into an underground forest in which some will-o’-the-wisps were circling an ancient altar. Close to it, we found a dead and naked khajiit who had in his possession a magnificent sword with a very powerful enchantment that caused frost damage and forced to flee even powerful enemies. We were beyond lucky to get our hands on this. However, as soon as I grabbed the sword, a powerful-looking spirit showed up out of nowhere and started attacking us, helped by the nearby wisps.

Anyway, after some hacking-and-slashing as well as lots of magic, the spirit disappeared, and we found ourselves as the owners of a tremendously powerful sword.

Jon: “Alva, we ventured through an underground forest located under the ruins of some ancient civilization, and came across a relic sword, a pure beast of a murder implement with which you’ll kill lots and lots of people. We also defeated the Pale Lady, a boss-type spirit. However, the only thing I can focus on right now is the fact that this khajiit lying dead on the cold ground has his penis out.”
Alva: “Oh, Jon, you’re impossible. One moment we’re having a grand adventure, fighting off bandits and uncovering ancient secrets, and the next you’re fixated on some poor soul’s… ahem… exposure. I swear, sometimes I think your mind is more mysterious than the ruins we’re exploring.”
Jon: “It looks so similar to a human’s, it’s disturbing.”
Alva: “You’re more concerned with the physical appearance of a… a corpse, than with the fact that we just defeated the Pale Lady and claimed this ancient power? Your priorities are as twisted as the roots of this underground forest. Show some respect, Jon.”
Jon: “Alva, I cannot stop looking at this weird dick. Please help me.”
Alva: “Oh, for the love of… Fine. I’ll help you, but only because I need you to focus on our survival and our journey. Look away, Jon. Just look away and let’s get out of here.”
Jon: “Yeah, sorry about that, Alva. Let’s leave.”

We found ourselves as the owners of an ancient ruin. We hadn’t bothered to drag the bloody corpses of dozens of bandits outside, but the mood between Alva and I was heading in the right direction.

Jon: “Quite the productive day, wasn’t it? We were first robbed by a bandit, and then we killed like thirty bandits. We also killed an ancient spirit and retrieved a relic sword far more powerful than we have any right owning.”
Alva: “Ah, yes, it’s been quite a day, hasn’t it? I must say, I’m rather impressed by our little duo’s productivity. Who would have thought that a vampire and a… whatever you are, would make such a formidable team? And that sword… Oh, the possibilities are endless now.”
Jon: “My point is, Alva, how about for the rest of the day, until night falls, we spend the time getting drunk on mead and testing the sturdiness of this hay bed?”
Alva: “Oh, Jon, you always know how to make me smile. I’d love to indulge in some mead and merriment with you. And as for the hay bed… Well, I think it’s sturdy enough to withstand our enthusiasm. Besides, after a day like today, we deserve a little celebration. And who knows?”
Jon: “And who knows what?”
Alva: “Maybe a bit of revelry will help us forget about Movarth and the troubles we left behind in Morthal. At least, for a little while.”

I uncorked a mead bottle and took a big gulp.

Jon: “There was that whole thing in Morthal about an ancient vampire who now probably intends to kill us both. Yeah, let’s get drunk.”

• Previous part (9)
• Next part (11)

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, left the marshy town of Morthal along with a local vampire named Alva. They didn’t get far due to a terrible snowstorm, so they took shelter in a mining community, with Alva staying underground.

Still during daytime hours, I entered the mine only to find Alva casually seated while a few miners worked the rock.

Jon: “Alva, it seems that things aren’t as bad anymore. The snowstorm has ceased, so we’ll be able to make some ground at night. I have also procured venison; as soon as I manage to find some salt, I’ll prepare myself a nice meal. I know that’s hardly relevant to you, but…”
Alva: “Always thinking of my well-being, even when it comes to something as mundane as food. How sweet of you.”

A couple of miners, one a Nord woman and the other an Argonian dude, approached us with curiosity.

Swanhvir: “What’s going on? You two aren’t from around here, are you?“
Teeba-Ei: “Yes, what brings you to Rockwallow Mine? We don’t get many visitors.”
Jon: “Oh, we were just taking shelter from last night’s snowstorm. We already asked for permission from Sorli, so you don’t have to worry about us. Just pretend we aren’t here.”
Swanhvir: “I wasn’t aware that Sorli gave you permission. What business do you have with her? This is a working mine, not a shelter for travelers.”
Alva: “Oh, don’t worry about us, dear. We won’t be any trouble. We’ll just be staying here for a little while, until nightfall.”
Teeba-Ei: “I don’t mind, personally. It’s not every day we get some company. But Gestur might not be too pleased when he finds out.”
Jon: “He knows, but never mind that. I’m interested in you, scaly dude. What’s your name?”
Teeba-Ei: “Ha! Scaly dude, I like that. My name is Teeba-Ei, and I’m a miner here at Rockwallow. Not exactly the most glamorous job, but it pays the bills.”
Alva: “Don’t mind my companion. He’s just a bit rough around the edges.”
Swanhvir: “Yeah, and I’m Swanhvir. Just try not to get in the way of our work, okay?”
Jon: “How come the two of you, Teeba-Ei and Swanhvir, ended up working in a frozen mine like this, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Teeba-Ei: “Ah, well, I’m a long way from home, to be honest. I never thought I’d end up in Skyrim, let alone working in a mine. But life has its ways of surprising you, and here I am.”
Swanhvir: “Same here. Just needed the work, and Gestur was hiring. It’s not so bad once you get used to it. The cold’s not a problem for me, being a Nord and all.”
Jon: “Swanhvir, with your looks, you could work somewhere fancier than this. Like a temple of Dibella.”
Swanhvir: “Ah, you mean a tavern wench? Ha! I don’t think so. I’d rather do honest work with my hands than rely on my looks to get by.”
Teeba-Ei: “Yeah, Swanhvir’s got more sense than that. Besides, we’ve got Jesper here who’s always making eyes at her. That’s enough excitement for all of us!”
Jesper: “Ah, shut it, Teeba-Ei! Swanhvir knows I’m just joking around… most of the time, anyway.”
Jon: “Oh, you ain’t sliding your way out of this one, Jesper. It just takes one look at Swanhvir over here, with her blonde ponytail and those luscious curves, to know what you’re thinking. I can tell you eye her every day while you’re striking the frozen rock with your pick. You wish you were striking something other than frozen rock with a different implement of yours.”
Jesper: “Oh, uh, well… I mean, Swanhvir’s a great coworker and all, but… Ah, you’re putting words in my mouth!”
Swanhvir: “Jesper, don’t bother trying to deny it. We’ve all seen the way you look at me.”
Teeba-Ei: “Yeah, Jesper’s got a bad case of miner’s lovesick blues!”
Alva: “Oh, this is getting interesting. Do tell, Jesper. What’s going through that mind of yours when you’re gazing at Swanhvir?”
Jon: “Yeah, Jesper, what part of Swanhvir are you fantasizing about most acutely? Is it her beautiful eyes? Is it that thick blonde ponytail, or those luscious breasts of hers? Maybe that behind barely disguised by her leather skirt?”
Jesper: “Ah, Jon, stop it! You’re making a spectacle of me! Swanhvir, I swear, I’m just… uh… admiring your work ethic. Yeah, that’s it.”
Swanhvir: “Save it, Jesper. We all know what you’re thinking about. And you, traveler, please, spare me the details. It’s getting embarrassing.”
Teeba-Ei: “Oh man, Jesper’s face is turning redder than a hot iron ingot!”
Jon: “We all know what we think about when we look at Swanhvir. Even Alva, I bet.”
Alva: “Oh, Jon, you’re a sly one, aren’t you? Well, I do appreciate a beautiful woman. Swanhvir, you are quite the vision, aren’t you?”
Swanhvir: “Stop it. You’re making me blush.”
Teeba-Ei: “Yeah, and Jesper’s about to spontaneously combust from embarrassment!”
Jesper: “This is not good…”

Shortly after the teasing died down and the miners returned to their work, I heard Swanhvir mumble to herself that nothing but the mine mattered anymore. I approached her for a little one-on-one.

Jon: Don’t mind the previous conversation, Swanhvir. We were just teasing to pass the time faster. My companion Alva and I are leaving at nightfall.”
Swanhvir: “No harm done, I suppose. Just a bit of fun, like you said. Still, I’d rather focus on me work than be the center of attention, if you don’t mind. Got a lot of iron ore to dig up before the day’s out.”
Jon: “I’m afraid I have to ask. I’m a complete stranger and have nothing whatsoever to do with you, but you’re pretty enough that I have become interested in your circumstances. I heard you mumble that the only thing left for you was the mine, and you didn’t care about anything else anymore. What was that about?”
Swanhvir: “Ah, spare me the prying, stranger. I didn’t say that for your benefit, and I certainly don’t need some outsider trying to dig up my troubles. You think you can just waltz in here and figure me out? You don’t know the first thing about me or my life. Just let it be.”
Jon: “Don’t you want a listening ear? I doubt any of the freaks working the mine alongside you would care to listen properly.”
Swanhvir: “Save it! You think Gestur cares about our troubles? Ha! He only cares about getting the ore out of this mine. And as for the others… Teeba-Ei’s got his own worries, Jesper’s too busy making eyes at me… No one here’s got time for listening or caring about anyone else’s problems. And even if they did…”
Jon: “Well, I guess we all have our own problems. It’s been nice meeting you. See ya.”

I wanted to figure out how to cook the venison I stripped from those hapless elks, but I couldn’t cook it without salt (literally: the game wouldn’t allow me to), so I ate it raw. I was rewarded with food poisoning.

Jon: “My tummy hurts, Alva. I think the venison I ripped from those poor elks is disagreeing with my guts.”
Alva: “You do look rather ill-favored all of a sudden; possibly poisoned? What happened here – did someone perhaps tamper?”
Jon: “No, no tampering. I didn’t want to cook the venison in a fire without some seasoning, so I ate it raw.”
Alva: “Raw elk meat. You know, I’ve seen some of the most hardened warriors fall to something as simple as a bit of bad meat. And now, here you are, in a mine with me, with what could be a nasty case of food poisoning brewing in your belly. How… appealing.”
Jon: “Don’t worry, Alva, I’ll take a shit far away from you, so you won’t have to listen to my cries, nor smell the mess.”
Alva: “How considerate. I must admit, I’m a bit touched by your thoughtfulness. But please, don’t strain yourself on my account. If you need to… relieve yourself, just try to find a spot that’s not too close to our little makeshift bed here. I’d hate for the smell to linger and ruin the ambiance of our little mine sanctuary.”

I noticed that the local put-upon miner was wandering nearby.

Jon: “Oh, don’t worry about that, Alva. Jesper, where do you tend to sleep? Do you fellows have private spaces?”
Jesper: “Ah, well, I’ve got a small little nook set up for myself just down that tunnel over there. It’s not much, but it’s home. Swanhvir and Teeba-Ei have their own spots too, we all kind of just claimed our own little areas.”
Alva: “And I suppose we’re just… guests, then? Borrowing this lovely spot from you miners?”
Jesper: “Yeah, exactly! You’re welcome to stay as long as you need. Just be careful not to wander off on your own without a torch or something. The mine can get pretty dark and treacherous if you don’t know where you’re going.”
Jon: “Over there, you say? Well, thank you, Jesper, for offering your nook to me so I can relieve myself. I appreciate it, brother.”
Jesper: “No, no, no! Not my nook, friend! I didn’t mean to offer you my bed! Just… uh… just find a spot somewhere else in the mine, okay? There’s plenty of other places you can… take care of business.”
Alva: “Oh, Jesper, don’t be so uptight. Jon wasn’t going to soil your precious bed. Were you, Jon?”
Jon: “Absolutely not. I was just going to do it right beside it. After all, I don’t want other people smelling the mess I’m about to make and thinking it came from me. It would be better if they believed you were the source, Jesper.”
Jesper: “J-just… just don’t do that, okay? Please, I’m begging you.”
Alva: “Oh, this is priceless, Jon. I think I’m starting to enjoy your company a bit too much. You’re not exactly the most delicate fellow, are you? Jesper looks like he’s about to faint.”
Jon: “Don’t worry, Jesper, I won’t make too much of a mess. And if I do, well, I suppose you have some wipes lying around that you could use, right? Anyway, Alva and I are leaving soon enough. As for you, Jasper, enjoy your life in the mine, and try not to oogle at that blonde vixen too hard, alright? Your dick might fall off.”
Jesper: “Ah… just get out, both of you. Just leave me and the mine in peace.”
Alva: “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome, Jon. It was… enlightening to meet you, Jesper. And don’t worry, your secret is safe with us. We won’t tell anyone about your little crush on Swanhvir.”
Jesper: “Just… just leave!”
Jon: “Hey, Alva, it seems that you and I cannot get appreciated anywhere. We are ahead of our time, I suppose.”
Alva: “Ahahah… I think we make a lovely pair of misfits don’t we, Jon?”

The night finally fell like a dark thing that falls. Alva and I peeked out of the mine’s entrance in case the sun was still shooting rays around.

Jon: “This is it, Alva. We’re leaving Stonehills and heading that way, apparently toward Whiterun.”
Alva: “Just another city, full of the same people living their mundane lives. But who knows? Maybe we can find some trouble to get into.”

• Previous part (8)
• Next part (10)

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). The previous part concluded what I’ve chosen to call “The Morthal Arc,” because it took place in Morthal. In it, our heroic protagonist, along with a few brave companions, confronted the forces of darkness that threatened the marshy town of Morthal, only to end up allying with one of those forces of darkness and then abandoning his companions and the town of Morthal to their fate.

As soon as I stomped into Alva’s home, I picked up my backpack and slid it on.

Jon: “It is time, Alva. It is time for us to leave this doomed town as well as the thankless hicks that dwell in such a rotten place. You and I, Alva, let’s brave the wilds and abandon hillbillytown forever.”
Alva: “Oh, I’ve been waiting for this moment for what feels like an eternity. The thought of escaping this dull, mundane existence and leaving the ignorant townsfolk behind is almost too delicious to bear. And I must say, I’m rather fond of the idea of braving the wilds with you, Jon. You’re the first person to ever make me feel like I have a choice, like I can be more than just a monster. Let’s leave this wretched place behind and make our own way in the world. Together. Shall we?”

As soon as we started trudging up the hill that leads to the road out of town, I noticed that a frequent traveler had joined us in our climb: Ange the Song-Bearer, with whom I had argued bitterly about half an hour earlier.

Jon: “Damn it. Of all the people we had to meet as we’re leaving town, it had to be you.“
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Fate has brought us full circle indeed! I see you’re still as charming as ever, Jon. And Alva, I see you’re still… well, still Alva. I must say, I’m a bit surprised to see you two leaving together. I thought for sure you’d have killed each other by now.”
Alva: “Oh, Ange, always so quick with the wit.”
Jon: “Very funny, Ange. Even if Alva and I had intended to kill each other, which isn’t the case, we wouldn’t have had time to do so since you and I last spoke. By the way, you know that last conversation with you and Benor? It made me feel real sick.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Ah, Jon, you’re still sore about that, aren’t you? I’m sorry if my words cut a bit too close to the bone. But someone had to tell you the truth – that Alva here is a monster, and that you’re playing with fire by getting involved with her.”
Alva: “So dramatic. You make it sound like I’m some kind of beast, waiting to pounce on Jon at any moment. But the truth is, Jon and I have… an understanding. And we’re leaving this place together, as equals.”
Jon: “We are wasting valuable night time, because the sunrise is going to come in a few hours. Goodbye, Ange. I hope things go well for you. Please don’t screw with us, okay? I’ve had enough of your patronizing, and that song of yours is still playing in my mind.”

We trudged through a snowstorm. I couldn’t tell what direction we were following, but I was just interested in distancing myself from Morthal as much as possible. We were accosted by wolves, and we felled them without much trouble. I hadn’t prepared properly for this trip: in my anger, I had failed to procure enough provisions for myself, and my belly was already complaining.

Perhaps an hour later, we came across man-made structures: tents, a campfire, a building. Some sort of mining camp. The employees were sleeping under their tents.

Jon: “Speaking of sustenance, check this out: a group of miners sleeping in bed rolls under their flimsy tents. Can’t you bite into one of them without arousing them from sleep?”
Alva: “Ah, Jon, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. I mean, I can certainly… feed on one of them without waking them up, but it’s not exactly the most… discreet thing to do. And what if one of them wakes up and sees me? It could be messy. Besides, I thought we were trying to avoid drawing attention to ourselves. Feeding on a sleeping miner might not be the best way to do that. I’m guessing that’s your own hunger speaking.”
Jon: “Don’t worry about me for now. I’m worrying for the both of us, stranded as we are in a mining camp. The only shelter I can make out through the snowstorm is a locked building. I assume that someone is sleeping inside, who won’t be happy about us breaking in. However, we have no choice but to shelter ourselves inside, both from the snowstorm and the upcoming sunrise.”
Alva: “Yes, I see what you mean, Jon. The situation is a bit precarious, isn’t it? We do need to find shelter, and that building is our best bet. And yes, I’m sure the inhabitant won’t be too pleased to see us. But desperate times call for desperate measures, don’t they? We’ll just have to… persuade them to let us in. Or perhaps we can find another way in.”
Jon: “I suppose you know what the rules of engagement are when I break into the home.”
Alva: “All bets are off, aren’t they? We’ll just have to be prepared for whatever happens next. If the inhabitant is uncooperative, well… I’m sure we can handle it. After all, I’m a vampire, and you’re… well, you’re a resourceful adventurer, aren’t you?”

Jon: “Okay, I’m fully committed to this. Let’s break in.”
Alva: “Let’s do this, Jon. I’ll keep watch. Just be quick and quiet, we don’t know what’s waiting for us inside.”

Once I stepped in, I noticed a woman with her back to me, standing in front of a desk.

Jon: “Hey miss, sorry to bother you this late… but do you think…?”
Sorli the Builder: “Ah, what in the world…? Who are you and how did you get into my house? I could’ve sworn I locked the door.”

Movement to my right: two men were getting up from their beds. I couldn’t tell how capable they were, so I retreated and closed the door behind me. What did I plan on doing, anyway? Was I about to murder the inhabitant so just we could take shelter for the day? Any of the miners might end up entering the home and finding out what we had done.

As we wandered around, we came across the obvious: a mine.

Jon: “Of course a mining outpost would have a mine. We have our shelter where you can stay the day. We can also rely on it the next time we come around here.”
Alva: “A mine is the perfect place for us to lay low. The darkness and isolation will be a welcome respite from the prying eyes of townsfolk.”
Jon: “The miners left behind a bed roll. A soft surface on which to sleep. Just one for two people, though.”
Alva: “One bed roll, indeed. I think we can manage to share it, don’t you? After all, I’m not exactly… fragile. And I’m sure we can find ways to make the most of our close quarters.”
Jon: “Well, Alva, I hope you don’t mind me spooning you.”
Alva: “Oh, Jon, you’re such a charmer. I’m flattered by your enthusiasm. And I don’t mind at all. In fact, I’m rather looking forward to it. After all, we do have a long night ahead of us, and we might as well make the most of it.”
Jon: “Lately I’ve been considering that you may want to stick your fangs in my carotid artery, but isn’t your… let’s say medical condition called vampirism quite contagious?”
Alva: “Yes, I must admit, the temptation can be… overwhelming at times. But I assure you, I’m not a mindless beast. I can control my urges. And as for the contagion, well… let’s just say that I’ve learned to be careful over the centuries. You’re safe with me, Jon. For now, at least.”
Jon: “You mean that you know how to bite people and drink their blood without spreading vampirism?”
Alva: “Ah, Jon, you’re so curious. Yes, I’ve learned to be… precise in my feeding. It’s a delicate balance, really. Too much and the victim becomes one of us. Too little and they’re left unscathed. But just the right amount… Well, let’s just say it’s an art I’ve mastered over the years.”
Jon: “Curiosity is getting the best of me. Any of the times you sank your fangs into one of your victims, did you notice them sporting a, let’s say, huge erection?”
Alva: “You’re certainly bold in your questions, aren’t you? As a vampire, I’ve had my fair share of… intimate moments with my victims. And, yes, I must admit that the physiological response you’re referring to is not uncommon. It’s almost as if the body’s natural response to fear and pain is… overridden by a more primal urge. But I suppose that’s a topic for another time, don’t you think?”
Jon: “Well, do you want to get under the covers right now?”
Alva: “I think that can be arranged. It’s been a long day, and I’m feeling a bit… peckish. But I think I can manage to wait a little while longer. After all, we have plenty of time, don’t we?”

When the damnable sun decided to make an appearance, I left Alva underground and ventured into the brighter world to figure out how we were going to survive for the day. A bald, bored-looking guard was posted near the entrance of the mine. I asked him for directions to the nearest town we could reach on foot, other than Morthal, and he suggested to head towards Whiterun, a trading town. I couldn’t tell how far it actually was.

A few steps away, I noticed a bald, important-seeming fellow eyeing me as if wondering who the hell I was and why was I coming out of the mine.

Jon: “Hey. I know I don’t belong here, but me and this woman Alva, we were taking shelter from the terrible snowstorm. Do you think we could stick around until tonight? Will that bother you?”
Gestur: “What’s all this nonsense about not belonging here? You’re looking for shelter from that storm out there, I can see that. And I’m Gestur Rockbreaker by name. Been working this mine for years. Now, I’m not one to turn away folk in need of a warm fire and a roof over their heads. You’re welcome to stay for today, but don’t go getting any ideas about sticking around long-term without speaking to Sorli or Pactur first. They’re the ones who run things around here.”
Jon: “Oh, I thought you were the one in charge. That bald head of yours gives off such an air of authority.”
Gestur: “Well, I suppose it’s true that I’m the one in charge of the day-to-day operations around here. But Sorli and Pactur are the ones who make the big decisions, handle the business side of things. They’re the ones who deal with Bryling, the owner of this mine. Me, I just make sure everything runs smoothly and that we’re meeting our quotas.”
Jon: “Well, it has been nice talking to you. I don’t really care about the details of how this mine functions and who owns it or whatever. I just want to take shelter with my girl here before we freeze to death. So thank you.”
Gestur: “Suit yourself, traveler. You’re welcome to take shelter here for the morning, like I said. Just be sure to keep out of the way of the miners, we’ve got work to do. And don’t go thinking about taking any of our supplies or equipment, we need all of that to keep the mine running. You and your… Alva, was it? You two can rest by the fire over there, just be quiet and don’t cause any trouble.”

The inhabitants of the sole house around already knew that a stranger was loitering in their space, so I decided to introduce myself. I found them preparing breakfast.

Jon: “I’m sorry to have bothered you last night. I entered your home because I wanted permission to shelter ourselves from the snowstorm, me and my companion Alva.”
Sorli the Builder: “Ah, don’t apologize, traveler. You’re welcome to shelter here, especially on a night like that. We don’t get many strangers in Stonehills, so it’s nice to have some company.”
Pactur: “Aye, and we can’t have you and your… Alva, was it? Freezing to death out there. What brings you two to our neck of the woods?”
Sorli the Builder: “Yes, please, tell us. What’s your business in Hjaalmarch?”

I had expected them to chew me out. What was with those smiles? If things had gone a little bit differently last night, they would have been lying in pools of blood.

Jon: “For some reason, I’m inclined to share why. We found a terrible den of vampires in the outskirts of Morthal, and I’m afraid we have angered some of them, so we’re trying to put as much distance from that town as possible.”
Pactur: “Vampires? In Morthal? That’s disturbing news. We’ve had some… odd occurrences in these parts ourselves. Tools gone missing at Rockwallow Mine, strange noises at night… I’ve been meaning to speak with Idgrod Ravencrone about it.”
Sorli the Builder: “Oh dear gods… If vampires are indeed involved, we need to be careful. We can’t have them threatening our people here in Stonehills.”
Pactur: “Tell me more about this den you found.”
Jon: “It belongs to a very ancient and powerful vampire named Movarth Piquine, and he surrounds himself with very powerful vampires on their own right. You shouldn’t meet any of them. They were terrifying. I’ve just had a nightmare about them leaping upon me and draining my health.”
Sorli the Builder: “Movarth Piquine… I’ve heard stories about him. He’s an old one, all right. They say he’s been around for centuries… Just thinking about it sends shivers down my spine.”
Pactur: “We need to take precautions. If Movarth Piquine is involved, we can’t take any chances. I’ll speak with our guards and make sure they’re on high alert. We can’t have those… creatures threatening our people here.”
Sorli the Builder: “And what about your… Alva? Is she safe?”
Jon: “Oh, she’s fine, she’s fine. She just looks a bit pale because she has anemia.”
Pactur: “Ah, anemia, you say? That’s a concern. We have a healer in Stonehills who might be able to help her. I’ll send someone to fetch her, and she can take a look at Alva.”
Sorli the Builder: “Yes, that’s a good idea. We can’t have your… companion suffering from illness on top of everything else. But tell me, Jon, what’s your plan now? Are you and Alva going to stay in Stonehills for a while?”
Jon: “Uh… I’m not sure how long we’re going to stick around. We were planning on heading to another city.”
Sorli the Builder: “We’re a small settlement, but we’ll do our best to make you and Alva feel welcome. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need, but I must warn you, if Movarth Piquine is indeed after you, he won’t hesitate to send his… minions here.”
Pactur: “Aye, we’ve had our share of troubles with bandits and wolves, but vampires are a different story altogether. We’ll do our best to protect you, but I need to know more about what happened at that den. What did you do to anger Movarth Piquine?”
Jon: “I didn’t anger him personally, I don’t think. I heard there was a den of vampires near Morthal and I thought, well, let’s have a nice ol’ time. You know, an adventure. An in-and-out kind of deal, and come out as heroes. It did not turn out that way.”
Sorli the Builder: “Ah, I see. You and Alva thought you’d just waltz in, kill some vampires, and come out as heroes, did you? Well, I suppose that’s one way to get a thrill. But vampires aren’t to be trifled with, Jon. They’re not just mindless beasts to be slaughtered for sport.”
Pactur: “And now you’ve got Movarth Piquine’s attention. That’s not a good thing. He’s not someone to be underestimated. His power is…”
Jon: “Listen, nevermind vampires now. The only thing I care about is my growling stomach. I can’t sustain myself on blood, so do you think you could spare some food?”
Sorli the Builder: “Ah, food! Of course, we can spare some food. We’re not made of stone, after all. I’ll get Sirgar to bring in some bread and cheese. We’ve also got some stew cooking over the fire.”
Pactur: “Aye, eat your fill, Jon. You’re welcome to what we have. We’re not rich, but we make do. And don’t worry about the vampires for now. We’ll deal with that later. First, let’s get some food in you and make sure you and Alva are taken care of.”
Jon: “My goodness, you’re going to wring tears out of me. If I had known there were people this nice in the world, maybe I wouldn’t be so bitter and suspicious all the time.”
Sorli the Builder: “Ah, Jon, don’t get sentimental on us. We’re just ordinary folk trying to make a living in these hard times. But it’s nice to see someone appreciate a little kindness. Now, let’s get that food into you before you waste away to nothing.”
Pactur: “Aye, and don’t worry about being bitter and suspicious. We’ve all got our reasons for being that way. But sometimes, it’s good to let your guard down and trust people.”
Jon: “I think I was just born that way. Darkness is in my nature, and that is a knowledge I cannot escape.”
Sorli the Builder: “Ah, Jon, don’t be too hard on yourself. We all have our darkness and our light. It’s how we choose to act on those impulses that defines us. And from what I’ve seen, you’re not beyond redemption.”
Pactur: “Aye, and sometimes it takes a bit of darkness to appreciate the light. We’ve all got our struggles, Jon. But it’s how we face them that matters.”

Man, the world sure looked different in the light of a clear day.

I explored the surroundings. I hunted an elk. I attempted to climb the nearby mountain hills, trying to spot some deserted-looking cabin, but every slope eventually became too steep. I stood at the edge of a precipice and was reminded that, despite the perils, you couldn’t beat the sights of Skyrim.

I ventured into those fancy ruins, only to spot a snow troll in the distance. Fuck that.

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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, a high elf wizard, decided to turn his back on the doomed town of Morthal, threatened by a nearby vampire coven, to indulge in whimsical, nocturnal adventures with a sexy vampire. Even though it would have been nice to leave immediately, the approaching sunrise ruined that opportunity.

Alva led me to her home, the same one I broke into a few days ago.

Jon: “When you said you knew a place nearby where we could rest safely during the day, I didn’t think you meant your house.”
Alva: “Come now, Jon… This house has served me well so far… why wouldn’t I want to return here? It has everything I need… including certain comforts from prying eyes during daylight hours… besides which… who else would think twice about coming here after everything that’s transpired? It’s perfect, really. For now, at least, it will be our sanctuary from Movarth’s reach, as well as those townsfolk foolish enough still chasing after my demise.”
Jon: “So what do you do during the day, until you are safe to come out again?”
Alva: “During the day, I… rest. You know about the coffin in the basement.”
Jon: “Are you planning on going down to the basement and resting right now?”
Alva: “Yes… now would be a wise time for me to take some rest… considering dawn has nearly broken outside already. But first, I think we should discuss how to secure this house while I’m… indisposed during daylight hours today, don’t you agree? We wouldn’t want any unwanted visitors bursting through the door unannounced, especially given recent events surrounding both ourselves and the local townsfolk lately. Perhaps you might keep watch upstairs here to ensure our safety till nightfall returns once more?”

As I stood in front of Alva in her home, I saw myself as a stranger might. Wasn’t this the deal Alva had made with that doomed thrall of hers, Hroggar? Had I become a thrall without my knowledge? At this point, I wasn’t sure I would care if that were the case.

Jon: “Very well. I see you have a couple of beds set up on the base level. So while you get your princess rest in a coffin, I’ll lie in bed and think back to the absolute horror we witnessed last night in Movarth’s lair. However, I hope to also dream about the wonderful and whimsical adventures you and I will have on the breadth of Skyrim.”
Alva: “I must admit, I do find your sarcasm… somewhat endearing, Jon. But yes, please, make yourself at home. The beds here are quite comfortable, I assure you. And do try to get some rest. We will have a long journey ahead of us, and I fear it won’t be without its… challenges. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must take my leave.”
Jon: “I must warn you, though: before I fall asleep, I’ll likely have to wank off the accumulated stress. I hope that won’t bother you.”
Alva: “I think I can manage to… sleep through any noise you might make, Jon. After all, I’ve had centuries of practice sleeping through all manner of… distractions. So, please, don’t worry about disturbing me. Just make yourself comfortable and try to get some rest. We’ll talk more when the sun sets and I’m feeling more myself again.”
Jon: “Well, night-night, Alva. Sweet dreams.”
Alva: “Goodnight, Jon… may your rest be… peaceful. And don’t worry, I’ll be just downstairs… sleeping like the dead.”

At midday, I was cooking a meal when Alva walked up the basement stairs. Way too early for her to venture out of the home yet.

Jon: “It’s probably early morning for you, Alva. I suppose you won’t eat anything resembling a normal meal, right?”
Alva: “Good… morning, I suppose. Yes, you’re right, I don’t exactly… dine on traditional breakfast fare. But I do appreciate the thought. You seem to be quite… resourceful in the kitchen, Jon. I must admit, the smell of cooking meat is somewhat tantalizing, even to my refined sensibilities.”
Jon: “Well, have a taste of what I’ve just cooked.”
Alva: “I think I’ll have to decline. As a vampire, my… digestive system is rather more suited to certain other types of sustenance. But thank you for offering. It’s been a long time since anyone has tried to… feed me in such a way.”
Jon: “Regarding the twenty or so bottles of human blood you had stashed in your basement, doesn’t that stuff go stale?”
Alva: “Let’s just say that I have ways of… preserving it. But I must admit, I’m a bit curious about your motives. Why would you try to feed me cooked rabbit, and then bring up the blood? What are you trying to accomplish, Jon?”
Jon: “It just doesn’t seem right to wake up in what it must be early morning for you and not start the day off with a proper breakfast, you know?”
Alva: “Ah… well… when put that way… I suppose your gesture is… appreciated, Jon. You’re quite thoughtful for a mortal.”

Alva was smiling quite freely for a monstrous bloodsucker.

Jon: “Is this how you got along with Hroggar, that thrall of yours?”
Alva: “Hroggar… yes. Well, let’s just say that Hroggar and I had a… certain understanding. He was a means to an end, a way for me to maintain some semblance of normalcy in this town. And he was enthralled by me, to say the least. But our relationship was not exactly… equal, if you know what I mean. I’m afraid Hroggar was rather under my control.”
Jon: “Is that what you prefer, for people that you get along with to be entirely under your control?”
Alva: “Well, Jon, as a vampire, I must admit that I do have a certain… fondness for being in control. It’s simply a part of who I am. But with you, I think I’ve found something different. You see, despite all the danger and uncertainty that comes with being around me, you still seem to… want to be here. And that’s intriguing to me. So, no, I don’t think I need to have you under my control in order to enjoy your company.”
Jon: “I assume that if I were in your situation, surrounded by people who are only willing to stick around because I have brainwashed them, that would get boring and maybe depressing after a while.”
Alva: “Yes… exactly. You have no idea how… tedious it can be to be surrounded by people who are only there because they’re under your control. The conversations, the interactions, they’re all just so… hollow. There’s no substance, no depth, no genuine emotion. It’s like being alone, but with the added burden of having to maintain the illusion of connection. And yes, after a while, it can be… suffocating.”
Jon: “Well, Alva, after tonight, after we escape from the town and get as far away from here as humanly or vampirely possible, we’re going to witness so many new sights, we’re going to partake in so many bizarre and whimsical adventures, you won’t have time to be bored.”
Alva: “Ahahahahah… Oh Jon, you really know how to make promises, don’t you? ‘Whimsical adventures,’ indeed… That sounds almost too good… too thrilling… Tell me, Jon, what makes you think we’ll succeed where others have failed? What’s so special about us, hmmm?”
Jon: “Well, I am a reckless, deranged person and you are a strong, sexy vampire. I think we make quite a pair, and the world won’t see us coming.”
Alva: “Ahahahahah… Oh Jon, you’re impossible… A reckless, deranged person indeed… And a strong, sexy vampire, I must say I like the way you put those words together… But yes, perhaps we do make quite a pair after all… Perhaps the world isn’t ready for us yet, hmmm? It makes me want to ask, how soon shall we leave behind sleepy little Morthal? Shall we begin the whirlwind adventure of our lives? I’m excited to get started! The pangs of fresh beginnings stir hungry depths within…”
Jon: “Well, Alva, you won’t have to contain those hungry depths for much longer. In just a few hours, we’ll pick up our backpacks and walk out of Morthal, leaving it behind hopefully forever.”

I originally planned to fuck around in Alva’s house until the evening, but was it truly right for me to escape from this doomed, marshy hole without saying goodbye to the other few people whose company I had enjoyed? I didn’t want to face Benor and have him tell me “I told you so,” but would I abandon Lami the alchemist to her fate without offering her salvation?

Jon: “Oh Lami, sweet little Lami, naive little Lami, I’m so glad you’re home and safe.”
Lami: “Mind yer words! What business do ye have here? And what makes ye think ye can speak so familiarly? Don’t go thinkin’ we’re friends after all we’ve been through! Ye just told me me best friend is… is… a monster! What more surprises do ye have for me?”
Jon: “Well, this was not how I expected our conversation to start. I thought you and I had achieved a certain level of familiarity. Had we not?”
Lami: “Ye expect familiarity after tellin’ me me best friend has been lyin’ straight-faced at me? After makin’ me question every single moment we shared? Ye think ye can just walk back into me shop like everythin’ hasn’t changed? Think again!”
Jon: “Hey, Lami, you’re shooting the messenger here. When I revealed to you that Alva was a vampire, that she had been manipulating you for years, you told me that you appreciated my honesty, that I had provided you with the truth. Have you changed your mind?”
Lami: “Ye got me there… Aye… Ye did tell me… And I did thank ye… But seein’ ye standin’ there now… So smug… It just brings back all me doubts…”
Jon: “Lami, I’m sorry, but my introduction wasn’t about smugness. It was pure horror.”
Lami: “Horror? Ye felt horror? Ye think ye can understand the horror I felt when I found out me best friend was a… a monster? A creature that’s been manipulatin’ me for years? I don’t think ye can even begin to understand that kind o’ horror, Jon.”
Jon: “Lami, you’re the one who doesn’t understand the true extent of horror. Do you know where I ventured into last night, along with Alva the vampire and Falion the local conjurer? The three of us, we braved the wilds, I mean the marshes, in the outskirts of Morthal. And we delved into Movarth’s Lair, a coven of vampires.”
Lami: “Wait… Ye went into Movarth’s Lair? With… With Alva? And Falion? What were ye thinkin’? Are ye mad?!”
Jon: “By this point, Lami dear, I think I have to admit that I am somewhat insane.”
Lami: “Ah, ye admit it yerself, do ye? Well, I suppose that’s a start. But seriously, Jon, what were ye thinkin’, goin’ into a den o’ vampires with… with one o’ them? What if they’d turned on ye? What if Alva… What if she’d lost control?”
Jon: “Actually, Alva did not lose control. She fought alongside us and even faced other vampires. The problem is that the vampires we found inside Movarth’s Lair, they were not the same kind of vampires as Alva.”
Lami: “So Alva… She didn’t lose control… And she fought alongside ye… But the other vampires… They were different, ye say? What do ye mean? Were they… worse? More monstrous?”
Jon: “Well, let me paint a picture for you, from the beginning. When we entered Movarth’s Lair, we were presented with the guardians of that place: spiders, huge spiders, bear-sized spiders, some of them even larger than bears. Those we were able to pick off with a bow and some spells, but that was just the appetizer.”
Lami: “Ahh… Giant spiders?! Bear-sized?! Larger than bears?! Oh gods preserve us… Just thinkin’ about it makes me skin crawl… Alright, alright, continue tellin’ yer tale… what came after those accursed creatures?!”
Jon: “Lami, you have heard nothing yet. After we defeated those cursed creatures, we came across three carts full of bloodied human skeletons. The vampires had stripped them of skin and flesh, and they had heaped them in carts as if they were garbage.”
Lami: “Oh dear gods… Three carts full o’ human skeletons?! Stripped o’ skin an’ flesh like animals?! Stored like garbage?! That’s just too much… How could any creature do such things?! And what happened next?! Did ye find out what kind o’ monsters could commit such atrocities?! Tell me everything! What else did those devils do?!”
Jon: “Unfortunately, my dear little Lami, we did find out the kind of monsters that did those things, because we came across the local vampires.”
Lami: “No… No more o’ this tale! Ye’re makin’ my blood run cold! Local vampires?! What did they look like?! Were they like… like Alva?! Tell me they weren’t like her! They couldn’t be! Not after what ye’ve told me so far!”
Jon: “Envision this, my naive little Lami: we entered an open space where the floor was strewn with human skeletons thrown aside as if they were chicken bones after a feast. Suddenly, we were leaped upon by some sort of supernatural super vampires who shot spells at us and drained our health. They zipped around in blurs, they were able to turn invisible… We could do nothing against them. We fled, escaping within an inch of our lives. I’m lucky to be able to tell you this tale.”
Lami: “Stop it! Stop tellin’ me these horrors! Supernatural super vampires?! Invisibility?! Blurrin’ about like ghosts?! Drainin’ yer health with spells?! Fleein’ fer yer lives?! Barely alive?! What kind o’ darkness have ye stumbled into?! How did ye even survive?! And Alva… She was fightin’ alongside ye… What does it mean?! Is she… Is she still on yer side?! Or has she turned against ye?! Tell me the truth!”
Jon: “Alva stayed on our side. She admitted that she hates the other vampires because they treated her like a fledgling. They bullied her, in short. Alva hates those vampires, and I see why. But you know, those are the monsters trying to take over your town.”
Lami: “Dear gods… So Alva… She’s still with ye… And she hates those other vampires… Because they treated her poorly… Bullied her… I can understand why she’d hate them… But what’s this?! Those vampires are tryin’ to take over Morthal?! Our home?! Our town?! We can’t let them do it! We have ta stop them! What can we do?!”
Jon: “Lami, sweet little Lami, please listen to me. We cannot do anything against this sort of vampires. We are powerless, we are like chickens against behemoths. We can only be splatted against the ground. I’ve seen the future, Lami: if those vampires come here, you, sweet little Lami, will be ripped open and eaten alive.”
Lami: “Noooo! Stop it! Stop tellin’ me these things! I won’t listen! We can’t just sit here and wait for them to come and… and… eat us alive! We have to do somethin’! Anythin’! We can’t just give up! You’re not going to give up, are you, Jon?! You’re not going to leave me here to face those monsters alone, are you?!”
Jon: “No, Lami, I will not leave you here alone, because you will come with us. Alva and I, we’re going to leave the town of Morthal and put as much distance as possible from this place. Come with us, Lami, and we’ll protect you.”
Lami: “Flee?! Leave Morthal?! My home?! My shop?! Everything I know and love?! No, no, no! I won’t leave! I won’t run away! This is my home! I’ll defend it! I’ll fight for it! We can’t just leave everyone else to face those monsters alone! What about Jorgen?! What about Idgrod and her family?! We can’t just abandon them!”
Jon: “Lami, I’m sure that bearded husband of yours, Jorgen, will be able to fight the vampires just fine. So come with me, with Alva and I, and we’ll keep you safe while your husband confronts and defeats the vampires.”
Lami: “How dare ye! Jorgen is not some kind of fool to be sent off to fight vampires alone! He’s my husband, and I won’t leave him to face those monsters by himself! We’ll face them together, as a family, as a community! We’ll defend our home, our town, and our people! I won’t run away and leave everyone else to fight for their lives! Ye can’t protect me by taking me away from the people I love!”
Jon: “Lami, you are underestimating the power of your husband’s beard.”
Lami: “What are ye talkin’ about?! Jorgen’s birth?! What does that have to do with anything?! Ye think his family lineage is going to protect him from vampires?! I don’t care about his birth or his family’s history! I care about him, and I won’t leave him to face those monsters alone!”
Jon: “I didn’t say his birth, I said his beard. You know, the hairs he has growing out of his jaw and his chin, and the upper lip. That’s what’s going to protect him from vampires.”
Lami: “His beard?! Beard?! Ye think his beard is going to protect him from vampires?! Ha! That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! A beard is just a bunch of hair, it’s not going to keep vampires at bay! Ye must be joking! Or maybe ye’ve finally gone mad from all the talk of vampires and monsters!”
Jon: “You truly have never noticed, Lami, in all the times that husband of yours kissed your beautiful lips? You didn’t notice that his supernatural beard held the power to destroy vampires?”
Lami: “What in the name of the gods are ye talkin’ about?! Jorgen’s beard is supernatural?! Destroy vampires?! Ye must be out of yer mind! I’ve kissed my husband many times, and I can tell ye, his beard is just a normal beard! It’s not supernatural, it’s not magical, it’s just… just… argh! Stop talkin’ like this, Jon! Ye’re startin’ to scare me!”
Jon: “I don’t want to hear how many times you’ve kissed your husband.”
Lami: “Fine then! Don’t want to hear about my private life with my husband! But stop spinnin’ these wild tales about Jorgen’s beard! It’s not supernatural! It’s just a normal beard! Stop tryin’ to distract me from the real issue here! We’re talkin’ about the vampires and how to protect our town! Let’s get back on track before it’s too late!”
Jon: “Lami, if you stay in this town, I swear to you, given what I’ve seen in Movarth’s Lair, that despite the might of your husband’s beard, you will die.”
Lami: “Nooo! Stop it! Stop trying to scare me with these empty threats! You think you’re so smart with your stories of Movarth’s Lair and your warnings of death, but you know what? Death comes for us all eventually. But if I’m going to die, then I’ll die in my own home, in my own town, with the people I love, not running away like some kind of coward. So take your warnings and your stories, take yourself elsewhere. I’m done listening to you, done believing your tales. I’m staying right here in Morthal, where I belong, where I’ll fight to protect what’s mine or die trying!”
Jon: “Lami, don’t lose your mind over this. The choice is simple: accompany your best friend Alva and myself, the stranger named Jon, who is perfectly normal and trustworthy. Let’s get away from Morthal, as far as possible. Along the way, Alva and I will keep you safe in a cocoon of love. We will snuggle with you at night to keep you warm. We’ll possibly spoon you as well.”
Lami: “Get out! Get out of my shop! Get out of my town! You’re not welcome here anymore, Jon! You’ve overstepped your boundaries one too many times! I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’m not buying it! I’m not going anywhere with you, especially not with those… those… intentions! Snuggle with me?! Spoon me?! You must be joking! I’m a married woman, for the love of the gods!”
Jon: “Your husband, Jorgen, is married to his beard. He has no place for you.”
Lami: “How dare you! You’re crossing a line now! My husband loves me dearly and would never choose his beard over me! You’re just trying to hurt me now! Well it won’t work! I know my husband better than you ever will! Get out! Get out of my shop before I lose my temper completely!”
Jon: “Very well, Lami, I will get out of your face and of Morthal forever, but please allow me to say one last thing to you.”
Lami: “Fine, say it, then leave and never come back! I’m done listening to your lies and insults! Say your piece and be gone!”
Jon: “Your husband is a prick.”
Lami: “How dare you! You think you can come into my shop and insult my husband like that?! You’re just a stranger here, and you think you can disrespect me and my family like this?! Well, let me tell you something. If you ever come back here again, ever, I will personally see to it that you regret ever setting foot in Morthal!”

Well, that was one bridge successfully burned. Now Lami would be glad that I left, never to return.

Despondent, I lumbered into the local inn, intending to find out if I cared to say goodbye to anyone else, when I spotted Ange the Song-Bearer, traveling bard, drinking an ale as if the town wasn’t about to drown in a tide of vampires.

Jon: “Hey Ange, where the hell were you? The last time I saw you was the night when we were ambushed by Laelette. Did you skip town?”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “The night we fought Laelette… that was a dark and tragic evening. I felt the need to move on, to share my music and stories with others in Skyrim. I traveled to another town, to play in their tavern, inspiring tomorrow’s warriors with songs of yesterday’s valor. The road is my home, and my lute is always by my side.”
Jon: “Well, Ange, I’m afraid that you should have stayed on the road, and if you noticed the bend that leads to Morthal, you should have ignored it.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “It seems fate has a way of drawing me back to Morthal, doesn’t it? I’ve found that the roads I travel often lead me to places where my music and skills are needed most. And it appears that Morthal still has its share of darkness, if your tone is any indication. Tell me, what’s been happening in this troubled town since I left?”
Jon: “Well, Alva, the local vampire, and I, we came to an agreement. She seems quite reasonable if you discount the fact that she’s a filthy bloodsucker. Together with the local conjurer Falion, we raided Movarth’s lair, the nearby coven of vampires. Unfortunately, the vampires holed up there, they are unbeatable. Now I’m sure that the town of Morthal is doomed.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Alva, the vampire, reasonable? I think not, Jon. She’s a master of manipulation, and I’m sure she’s using you for her own purposes. And now, you’re telling me that you’ve raided Movarth’s lair with Falion’s help? That’s a bold move, but it seems it’s backfired. Unbeatable vampires, you say? That sounds like a recipe for disaster. I fear for the people of Morthal, and I fear for your safety, Jon.”
Jon: “Well, you don’t have to worry about my safety anymore because I’m skipping town. I’m leaving with Alva to enjoy whimsical adventures together.”

Benor must have been spying on our conversation, because he approached us from behind while speaking in a stern voice.

Benor: “What in the name of the gods is wrong with you, Jon? You’re going to leave Morthal to its fate and run off with a vampire? Alva is a monster, a creature of the night, and you’re going to trust her with your life? I swear, I’ve seen more sense in a drunken Nord. You’re abandoning us, abandoning the people of Morthal, and for what? Some twisted fantasy with a bloodsucking fiend?”
Jon: “It does sound bad when you put it like that. You know, it’s just a little adventure with a sexy vampire. We’re going to prowl the night, raid unsuspecting bandit camps, and stay the hell away from this doomed town.”
Benor: “Oh, Jon, you’re blinded by your infatuation with Alva, aren’t you? She’s a vampire, a creature driven by bloodlust and darkness, not some romantic partner for a whimsical adventure. You’re throwing away your humanity, your compassion, your sense of justice… all for what? A fleeting thrill with a monster? Ange, speak some sense into him, would you?”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Sense? He’s beyond sense, Benor. He’s lost to his own desires and foolish notions. I fear for his soul.”
Benor: “Jon, you’re making a grave mistake. Leave Alva and her darkness behind. Stay with us and help us find a way to save Morthal and its people from the vampires’ grasp.”
Jon: “Listen. At the end of your life, Benor, as you lie dying from the consequences of having antagonized some tough traveler, what would you miss more? The fact that you didn’t go on a whimsical adventure with a vampire, or the fact that you didn’t act more on your misguided sense of justice?”
Benor: “You think you’re clever, don’t you, Jon? Trying to turn this around on me, making me question my own choices? Well, let me tell you something—when my time comes, I’ll die standing up for what I believe in. I’ll die fighting for the people and the land I care about. I won’t die with regrets about not indulging in some twisted fantasy with a bloodsucking fiend! My sense of justice may be misguided to you, but at least I have one! What do YOU stand for, JON? What do YOU believe in, beyond your own selfish desires and whims? Ange, the man’s lost all sense of decency and honor! What’s gotten into him?!”
Jon: “Your sense of decency and honor is going to crumble away into nothing when you confront the vampires that live in Movarth’s Lair. You stand no chance against them. Do not be mistaken about that.”
Benor: “So now you’re a prophet, Jon? Predicting doom and gloom for Morthal and its people? I’ll tell you this—I’d rather die fighting for what’s right, fighting to protect my home and the people I care about, than run away with a vampire and abandon everything that’s decent and honorable. You may think the vampires are unbeatable, but I’ll not go down without a fight. I’ll stand with the people of Morthal, and together we’ll face whatever darkness comes our way. Ange, it seems Jon has lost all faith in humanity’s ability to resist the forces of darkness. Perhaps he’s been spending too much time with Alva, listening to her poisonous whispers.”
Jon: “One thing I can say for the forces of darkness, they don’t have a stick up their ass, and aren’t as boring as you lot.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Ah, so now you’re finding the forces of darkness… entertaining, Jon? I think that’s a sad commentary on your state of mind. The darkness may seem exciting, even alluring, but it’s a path that leads to destruction and chaos. We may not be as… exciting as you would like, but we value honor, compassion, and a sense of justice. Benor, I think Jon’s been seduced by the very darkness he once claimed to want to fight against. It’s a shame, really. He had potential.”
Jon: “Hey, you two are making me feel bad here.”
Benor: “Perhaps you should feel bad, Jon. You’re abandoning the people of Morthal and siding with a vampire who’s brought nothing but darkness and suffering to our town. You’re betraying everything that’s decent and honorable. What did you expect from us? Praise and admiration for your foolish choices? I think not.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Yes, Benor has a point, Jon. Your actions have consequences, and the consequences of siding with Alva will be dire indeed. Not just for yourself, but for the innocent people of Morthal who’ll be left to suffer at the hands of the vampires. Can’t you see that? Or have you been completely blinded by your infatuation with Alva?”
Jon: “Whether or not I stay here and fight with you is not going to change anything. Your bravado means nothing; you haven’t gone inside Movarth’s lair and seen what I’ve seen. The darkness you believe you’re facing is the darkness of songs, of fairy tales. Heroic stuff. I’ve seen carts stacked full of bloodied skeletons whose flesh had been picked clean by bloodthirsty vampires. Once they decide to pounce on this town, you will stand no chance against them.”
Benor: “Your words paint a vivid picture, Jon. I can almost see the horrors you’ve witnessed in Movarth’s Lair. But even in the face of such atrocities, I must disagree with you. Our bravado may seem empty to you now, but it’s rooted in a deeper conviction, a commitment to stand against the forces of darkness, no matter how overwhelming they may seem.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Benor and I may not have seen what you’ve seen, but we’ve faced our own share of battles and horrors in this land. And we’re still standing, because we refuse to give up in the face of evil. You may think us foolish, Jon, but we’ll not be swayed by your words.”
Jon: “Well, Ange, when I approached you this evening, I intended to invite you on a whimsical adventure along with me and the friendly neighborhood vampire Alva. Doesn’t that sound like a good plan?”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “I think you must be joking, Jon. After everything we’ve discussed tonight, you think I’d be interested in joining you on a whimsical adventure with a vampire? Alva is not a friendly neighborhood vampire, she’s a monster who’s brought darkness and suffering to this town. And I’ll not be party to any plan that involves siding with her or indulging in some twisted fantasy with the forces of darkness. My answer is no, Jon. I’ll not be joining you on this fool’s errand. Benor, I think we’ve heard enough from Jon for one night. His mind is made up, and he’s determined to follow this destructive path.”
Jon: “You know, I intended to leave in good terms with the people I’ve met in Morthal, even though I doubt I will ever return. But now Lami hates me, and the two of you are shitting on me.”
Benor: “Spare us the theatrics, Jon. You’re not the victim here. You’re the one who’s chosen to side with a vampire, to abandon the people of Morthal and indulge in some twisted fantasy with Alva. If Lami hates you, it’s because she sees the truth—that you’re willing to sacrifice everything that’s decent and honorable for your own selfish desires. And as for us, we’re not shitting on you, we’re trying to bring you back from the brink of destruction. But it seems you’re too far gone to listen to reason. Ange, I think we’ve wasted enough time on Jon.”
Jon: “This is my school experience all over again.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Oh, spare us the self-pity, Jon. This isn’t about your school experience or any past injustices you may have suffered. This is about the choices you’re making now, and the consequences those choices will have for the people of Morthal. You’re not a victim, Jon. You’re a grown man making deliberate decisions that will harm others. Take responsibility for your actions, and stop trying to shift the blame onto others. Benor, I think Jon’s lost sight of what’s truly important here. He’s so caught up in his own feelings and desires that he’s forgotten about the people who will be hurt by his actions.”
Jon: “No, I keep clear sight of what is important: to indulge in a whimsical adventure with a sexy vampire who will probably spoon me at night. You two cannot comprehend that kind of happiness.”
Benor: “Ugh, you disgust me, Jon. You’re willing to sacrifice everything that’s decent and honorable for a twisted fantasy with a vampire who’ll likely drain your lifeblood as soon as she tires of you. And you think that’s happiness? You’re delusional, Jon. That’s not happiness, it’s self-destruction. Ange, I think we’ve seen enough of Jon’s true nature tonight. He’s beyond redemption.”
Jon: “Alright. Ange, now that maybe I will never see you again, will you sing one of your beautiful songs, this one about my tragic future as the reckless man traveling with a seductive vampire?”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Very well, Jon. I shall sing a song.”

In twilight’s hush where shadows play,
A lone figure walks away
From honor’s path, from virtue’s light
Into the arms of sweet despair tonight.

With heart aflame and soul astray,
He follows love into the darkest day.
A siren’s call, a fatal thrall
That beckons him toward his final fall.

His friends bewail his tragic fate
As he descends into love’s darkest state.
Their warnings fell on deaf ears cold
As he marches toward his doom foretold.

Ange the Song-Bearer: “Your song is sung, Jon. I hope it haunts you till the end of your days. Benor, it seems our work here is done. Let’s leave him to his fate.“

• Previous part (6)
• Next part (8)

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, a high elf wizard, convinced a local conjurer as well as a sexy vampire to join him on a raid of the aforementioned vampire’s boss’ lair, intending to kill the baddest bad guy, which would save the town of Morthal as well as free the sexier vampire.

Falion, Alva and myself gathered in front of Morvath’s lair under the cover of darkness, which wouldn’t particularly work in our favor given that our enemies are creatures of the night. Anyway, it wasn’t proper for Alva to assault an enemy outpost while dressed as a barmaid, so I lent her some leathers and a executioner’s axe that I stole somewhere in Solitude.

Once we felt ready enough, we ventured into a den of darkness that surely wasn’t as bad as it had been painted. A few meters in, I got my first surprise.

Jon: “Hey, I thought this was supposed to be a vampire den. How come there are gigantic spiders roaming around down there?”
Alva: “Ahahah! You didn’t think Movarth relied solely on vampires did you? His power extends far beyond our kind.”
Falion: “Indeed. Vampires often keep… unsavory company. Creatures that thrive in darkness and fear.”
Alva: “And these spiders are but a mere taste of what awaits us deeper within the lair. Are you prepared to face what lies ahead?”
Falion: “I’ll handle the spiders. My conjurations will keep them at bay.”
Jon: “I just wasn’t expecting a visit to the zoo.”
Alva: “Ha! You’d do well to keep your wits about you, mortal. These creatures are not to be underestimated.”
Falion: “I’ll keep the spiders occupied, Jon. If we get interrupted, focus on picking off vampires from a distance with that bow of yours.”
Alva: “Ah, but you won’t be able to stay at a distance for long. Movarth’s minions will close in on you soon enough.”
Falion: “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Jon: “Well, thanks for the encouragement, Alva. Anyway, I’m going to start picking off the little frostbite spiders.”
Alva: “Ah, how… thoughtful of you to start with the weaker ones. I’m sure the larger spiders will be most grateful for your consideration.”
Falion: “Keep firing, Jon! I’ll make sure none of them get too close to you.”
Alva: “You know, I almost forgot what it’s like to have… ‘allies.’ It’s been a while since I’ve had anyone to fight alongside.”
Falion: “Let’s not get too comfortable, Alva. We still have a long way to go before we reach Movarth.”

We were able to handle a few spiders. Further up ahead, though, I spotted the first sign of troublesome life.

Jon: “Shhh, careful, there’s a vampire sitting on a chair.”
Alva: “Ah, finally. A worthy opponent. Let’s see how you fare against one of Movarth’s minions.”
Falion: “Quiet, Alva. We don’t want to alert the others just yet. Jon, can you take him out silently?”
Alva: “Oh, I doubt that’s possible. Vampires have a bit of a… sixth sense when it comes to these things.”
Falion: “Just be ready, then. If he alerts the others, we’ll have a much bigger problem on our hands.”
Jon: “Let’s see if this night creature, whether it is a woman vampire or a man vampire, can predict an arrow about to tear through their brain.”
Falion: “Especially considering we’re dealing with vampires here – fast reflexes come with immortality. Still worth trying. Give it your best shot, Jon.”

Crippling that first target alerted a nearby person we hadn’t spotted. They came up to my face, and I was forced to retreat and pull out my flames, but Alva and Fallion managed to bring them down. Two vampires down, maybe dozens to go. Sadly, I noticed that these were regular humans.

Jon: “Those actually were not vampires, just thralls guarding their entrance.”
Alva: “Ahahah, how… amusing. You think taking out a few thralls is an accomplishment? The real challenge lies ahead, mortal.”
Falion: “Well, at least we know we’re getting close. Those thralls wouldn’t have been stationed here if Movarth didn’t have something worth protecting nearby.”
Alva: “Indeed… And now that we’ve announced our presence so… eloquently, I’m sure Movarth’s true servants will be awaiting us with bated breath.”

We sneaked ahead despite the increasingly ominous atmosphere.

Jon: “Ok, we’re venturing deeper into the lair. Please stay close to my butt, and don’t miss it.”
Alva: “Oh, how sweet. You think I need protection? I’m a vampire, darling. I can take care of myself.”
Falion: “Alva, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s best if we stick together and watch each other’s backs.”
Alva: “Falion, always so serious. Can’t you just relax and enjoy the thrill of the hunt?”
Falion: “This is no hunt, Alva. This is a mission to take down Movarth and his coven.”

We came across three carts filled with bloodied human skeletons.

Jon: “It seems that the vampire inhabitants forgot to take out the garbage recently.”
Alva: “Ah, the leftovers from previous feasts? How… quaint.”
Falion: “This only confirms our suspicions about Movarth’s activities here. We must proceed cautiously; we don’t know how many vampires we’ll encounter within these walls.”
Alva: “And yet, you want me to lead you deeper into this den. I wonder whose necks will end up snapped next.”
Falion: “Alva, let’s focus. I trust your self-interest enough to assume you want Movarth gone as much as we do.”
Jon: “Careful, I think someone has noticed our presence. Be ready for combat.”
Alva: “Ah, finally, some excitement. I was starting to think this would be a dull night.”

Our combined might dispatched more thralls. We were feeling bolder.

Jon: “So, are you at least having some fun, Alva?”
Alva: “Oh, I’ve been having the time of my undead life recently, Jon. The thrill of possibly being killed by a group of brave warriors has been exhilarating.”
Falion: “I wouldn’t get too excited, Alva. We’re not here to entertain you.”
Alva: “Oh, come now. Don’t be such a spoilsport. It’s one in the morning, and we’re sneaking around in the dark. What’s not to enjoy?”

We entered a wide-open space. We could hear the sounds of someone striking rock with a pick somewhere in the distance.

Jon: “Look at all these human skeletons and random bones strewn about. Doesn’t your kin clean every once in a while?”
Falion: “Ahahah! You’re concerned about cleanliness? We’re about to fight vampires here, Jon!”

And fight vampires we did. You see, when I decided to gather a couple of allies and raid the lair of a major vampire, I took a calculated risk. However, I must have dyscalculia. As the player, I confronted the same two vampires over and over. They moved like blurs, they could turn invisible, they drained my health in moments, and were able of killing me in a couple of blows. I witnessed Alva falling to their might a few times. Other times, as I was lying dead on the cold rock, I heard Falion shouting nearby that the fight wasn’t over. It very much was, though; I had expected to cheese this raid somehow, but we may as well have tried to fight a tsunami.

In the terms of this roleplaying thing I’m doing, I made the following development canon: the three of us managed to escape within an inch of death, healing ourselves as we fled from the lair. Some distance away, still in the darkness of the marsh, we hunched around to recover our breaths.

Jon: “Well, that really did not work at all in our favor, did it? Turns out that vampires are quite a bit stronger than I thought.”
Alva: “Ah, you thought you could just waltz into Movarth’s Lair and take down his minions without breaking a sweat?”
Jon: “I had predicted some sweating.”
Alva: “I warned you, Jon, these are not fledglings we’re dealing with.”
Falion: “Indeed, Alva’s right. We underestimated the vampires’ strength and cunning. We need to regroup and come up with a new plan if we hope to succeed.”
Alva: “And perhaps next time, Jon, you’ll listen to my advice instead of charging in headfirst like a fool.”
Falion: “Alva, that’s enough. We’re all in this together, and we need to work as a team if we’re going to take down Movarth.”
Jon: “Alva, the other local vampires seem far more powerful than you. Are you a sort of novice vampire?”
Alva: “Oh, Jon, you really know how to wound a girl’s pride. I’ll have you know, I’m a perfectly capable vampire in my own right.”
Falion: “Actually, Jon, Alva’s… limitations are likely due to her being a relatively new vampire, as well as her being bound to Movarth’s will.”
Alva: “Ah, thank you for sharing that with him, Falion. I’m sure Jon was just dying to know about my… vulnerabilities.”
Jon: “Well, Alva, you were my yardstick for how to consider dealing with other vampires. You are somewhat reasonable, and fun to talk to, but those vampires in your boss’ coven are absolutely terrifying. Maybe you belong to an offshoot race of vampires that are generally much nicer than the rest.”
Alva: “Oh, Jon, you’re a peculiar one, aren’t you? I suppose I should be flattered that you think me more… civilized than the others.”
Falion: “Actually, Jon, the concept of different vampire breeds or strains is an interesting one. It’s possible that Alva’s… unique circumstances have influenced her development as a vampire.”
Alva: “Yes, well, I’m a bit of an oddity among my kind, even among Movarth’s followers.”
Jon: “Alva, do you actually get along with other vampires? I get the feeling you wouldn’t interact willingly with the kind of monsters we’ve come across in Movarth’s lair.”
Alva: “Ah, the others? Ha! They think me weak, a plaything for Movarth’s amusement. I have no love for them, and they have none for me.”
Falion: “That’s not surprising, considering the way Movarth seems to treat you, Alva. You’re more of a tool to him than a fellow creature of the night.”
Alva: “Yes… exactly. And as for interacting with them willingly? I’d rather die… again… than submit to their cruelty and condescension.”
Jon: “Still, Alva, you were paving the path, preparing the town of Morthal for their overtaking. Do you think that you would fare well if Morthal were to be taken over by your boss’ groupies?”
Alva: “Ah, Jon, you really don’t understand, do you? I was doing what I had to do to survive, to keep Movarth’s favor. But as for Morthal being taken over by his… followers? No, I don’t think I would fare well at all.”
Falion: “In fact, Alva, I think you would be in grave danger if Movarth’s coven were to take over Morthal. You’ve shown a certain… independence, a certain willingness to defy Movarth’s will.”

I must have looked pale as if exsanguinated. I felt far colder than even the freezing Morthal night would allow.

Jon: “Let me be clear with the two of you, Falion and Alva: I think there is no hope for Morthal, not against the kind of vampires hiding in that den.“
Alva: “Ah, finally, Jon, you’re starting to understand. Movarth’s coven is not to be underestimated. They are ancient, powerful, and ruthless.”
Falion: “I agree with Jon, Alva. After what we’ve seen, I think our best course of action would be to focus on protecting Morthal from Movarth’s coven, rather than trying to take them down directly.”
Alva: “And what about me, Jon? What do you plan to do with me now that you’ve seen the true face of Movarth’s coven? Will you still hold to your promise to help me break free from Movarth’s grasp?”
Jon: “You and I should get stronger, Alva. We have no chance to fight against Movarth or his followers with the strength we have at the moment.”
Alva: “You’re finally being realistic. Yes, we would be no match for Movarth’s coven in our current state.”
Falion: “I agree. We need to regroup, reassess our strategy, and find a way to increase our chances of success. Perhaps there are other allies we can gather, or other means of gaining an advantage over Movarth’s followers.”
Alva: “And what about me, Jon? Will you still help me find a way to break free from Movarth’s control? Or am I just a tool for you to use in your fight against him?”
Jon: “Falion, we wouldn’t be able to gather enough allies to venture into Movarth’s den and destroy them. Nobody else in town wanted to accompany me into what they correctly assumed to be a suicide mission. We would be unlikely to get outside help either.”
Falion: “I see. Well, in that case, we may need to rely on more… unconventional means to deal with Movarth’s coven. Perhaps there are other ways to weaken them, or to create an advantage for ourselves.”
Alva: “Ah, Jon, you’re starting to realize that you’re not as invincible as you thought, aren’t you? That sometimes, the best course of action is to retreat and regroup, rather than charging headfirst into certain death.”
Falion: “Jon, I think we should focus on finding a way to seal Movarth’s Lair, or at least make it more difficult for his followers to leave.”
Jon: “No, Alva is right. I had never encountered the kind of horror that we have faced in Movarth’s lair. I don’t want that spreading out and taking over Morthal, but we cannot do anything to stop it with the power we have available right now.”
Alva: “You’re finally starting to understand the true nature of the world. There are some things that are simply beyond our control, no matter how hard we try to fight them.”
Falion: “Jon, don’t give up yet. We may not be able to defeat Movarth’s coven in a straight-up fight, but there may be other ways to stop them. We just need to think carefully and come up with a new plan.”
Alva: “Oh, Falion, you’re so optimistic. Jon sees things more clearly now. Sometimes, the best thing to do is to accept that you can’t win, and focus on surviving instead.”

I couldn’t get the chills to stop. I saw no reason to keep hanging around in town.

Jon: “Yeah, fuck Morthal. Alva, you and I, let’s get out of town. Morthal has no future. Let’s focus on surviving by getting out of here. Maybe Movarth will send some thralls against you, but they won’t be his best. If we remain near Movarth’s coven, they’re going to destroy us the same way they’ll destroy the whole town.”
Alva: “I must admit, I’m surprised. I didn’t think you had it in you to be so… pragmatic.”
Falion: “Wait, Jon, are you seriously suggesting we just abandon Morthal to Movarth’s coven? What about the people who live here? We can’t just leave them to their fate.”
Alva: “Oh, Falion, don’t be so sentimental. The people of Morthal are already doomed.”
Jon: “I didn’t intend for you to leave Morthal, Falion. You were doing just fine before I arrived. You know, performing your rituals, sacrificing people to keep the peace. I was just talking about Alva and myself. So let’s get the fuck out of Morthal and put as many miles from this doomed place as possible.”
Falion: “Ah, I see. Well, in that case, I suppose I have no say in the matter. Running from Movarth’s coven may not be as easy as you think. They have a long reach, and they will not hesitate to hunt you down.”
Alva: “Ah, Jon, I must admit that the thought of leaving Morthal behind is… tempting. But can we really trust each other? Can we really work together to survive?”
Jon: “Are you really going to have a worse time with me, Alva, than with those monstrous, bloodthirsty vampires? At least my stupid comments and my reckless behavior will entertain you. You won’t get such fun in this dreary place.”
Alva: “You really know how to sell a proposition, don’t you? I must admit, the thought of traveling with you is… intriguing. And you’re right, at least with you, I’ll have some… entertainment.”
Falion: “I think you two are a match made in… somewhere. I’ll just stay here and try to protect Morthal as best I can.”
Jon: “Yeah, good luck with this doomed quest of yours, Falion. I know you’re a brave man and you will brave this horrible task you self-imposed onto yourself, until the day of your death. I have faith in you, buddy.”
Falion: “Ah, Jon, you’re a strange one, but I think I’ll take that as a compliment. Yes, I’ll keep doing what I can to protect Morthal, even if it seems like a lost cause. It’s not just about the town, it’s about the people who live here. They deserve to be safe.”
Alva: “Oh, spare us the dramatics, Falion. We all know you’re just going to end up as vampire fodder anyway.”
Falion: “Just be careful out there, Jon. And… try to keep Alva out of trouble, if that’s possible.”

I had met interesting people in this marshy nowhere-town, like Ange the Song-Bearer, or that lovely alchemist who was unfortunately married.

Jon: “I’d rather not think of what’s going to happen to Lami, the alchemist; Benor, the bumbling warrior; and the rest of the people holed up in this town with no fucking idea of the kind of horror that’s going to come rushing towards them. Oh my goodness.”
Falion: “Ah, Jon, don’t torture yourself with thoughts of what’s to come. Perhaps we can’t change the fate of Morthal, but we can try to make a difference in the time we have left. I’ll do what I can to protect Lami and the others, but…”
Alva: “Come now, Falion, don’t sugarcoat it. We all know what’s going to happen to them. They’ll be slaughtered, one by one, and Movarth’s coven will feast on their blood.”
Falion: “Alva, that’s enough! We don’t need to hear your gloomy predictions.”
Jon: “Alva, are you thinking about it, are you picturing the different sights and adventures you’ll experience if you abandon Morthal, if you get away from Movarth’s coven?”
Alva: “Yes Jon, I’m picturing us adventuring together, wild and free without Movarth’s tyranny hanging over us like an executioner’s axe ready to fall anytime Movarth commands it to do so.”
Jon: “Well, Alva, it’s nearly five in the morning. Your greatest enemy is that burning ball of plasma in the sky. So before the sun burns you to death, let’s get out of this inn and hide somewhere dark, alright? Tomorrow night, we’ll just leave.”
Alva: “Ah, yes, the sun. My eternal nemesis. Very well, Jon, let us find shelter. I know a place not far from here where we can rest safely during the day.”
Falion: “Be careful, both of you. The sun is not the only danger that lurks in the shadows.”
Jon: “That made no sense. Anyway, godspeed, Falion. It has been nice knowing you. Good luck and all that.”
Falion: “And to you, Jon. May the road rise up to meet you, and may the wind be at your back. May you and Alva find the freedom and adventure you seek. Farewell.”
Alva: “Come, Jon, let us go. The sun is rising, and I have no desire to be caught in its… warm embrace.”