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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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• Next part (31.5 – Uthgerd’s journal)

Mantella is an AI system that turns every single NPC in Skyrim (and Fallout 4) into AI agents driven by an LLM (like ChatGPT or the recently released, and comparable, Llama 3.1). In the previous part, Uthgerd the Unbroken blushed like a schoolgirl at the prospect of being pleasured by a female vampire. The Frostpeak Stalkers met Jarl Ballin’ and were tasked with destroying a bandit camp. The couple of villagers from Ivarstead got their first taste of battle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I urged for my companions to keep it quiet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I realized that Fastred was standing beside me.

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

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

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

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

An awkward silence followed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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Mantella is an AI system that turns every single NPC in Skyrim (and Fallout 4) into AI agents driven by an LLM (like ChatGPT or the recently released, and comparable, Llama 3.1). In the previous part, most of the Frostpeak Stalkers returned to the Whiterun hold to intimidate some guy on behalf of Riften’s de facto ruler, Maven Black-Briar. My character was disappointed because he couldn’t castrate his target.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later that night, Uthgerd did knock on our door.

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

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

Uthgerd rubbed her brows.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Mantella is an AI system that turns every single NPC in Skyrim (and Fallout 4) into AI agents driven by an LLM (like ChatGPT or the recently released, and comparable, Llama 3.1). In the previous part, my character, an Altmer mage, was tasked with intimidating a shady character into ceasing his smuggling operation. In his spare time, my character shopped around for children in an orphanage, threatened to clobber an old woman across the face with his dick, taught guerrilla warfare to a bunch of orphans, and ripped a fart in a beggar girl’s face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The mead was alright. I had tasted better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alright, that may get Mallus wanting to prove himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mallus smirked at her.

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

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

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

I heard a rustle of clothes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• Previous part (27)
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Mantella is an AI system that turns every single NPC in Skyrim (and Fallout 4) into AI agents driven by an LLM (like ChatGPT or the recently released, and comparable, Llama 3.1). In the previous part, my character, an Altmer mage, offered sexual favors to a powerful mob boss, insulted a beggar girl, threatened to murder a local in the middle of a bustling inn, and lured in a stabby woman with the promise of gold and blood.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I stuck my finger up one of her nostrils.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I put my hands on their shoulders.

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

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Mantella is an AI system that turns every single NPC in Skyrim (and Fallout 4) into AI agents driven by an LLM (like ChatGPT or the recently released, and comparable, Llama 3.1). In the previous part, my character, an Altmer mage, was disappointed by the new town to which they had traveled, was disappointed because two of his favorite ladies didn’t want a threesome, and was disappointed because the destinatary of Thrice-Bitten’s nasty letter had a stoic reaction to it.

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

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

We remained quiet until we reached a deserted alley.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fastred kneeled in front of the girl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Mantella is an AI system that turns every single NPC in Skyrim (and Fallout 4) into AI agents driven by an LLM (like ChatGPT or the recently released, and comparable, Llama 3.1). In the previous part, my character, an Altmer mage, terrorized a hard-working father into letting his teenage daughter elope with a violent layabout.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I tipped the shopkeeper for his help.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We let Ingun return to her book and her thoughts.

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

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

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

• Previous part (24)
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Mantella is an AI system that turns every single NPC in Skyrim (and Fallout 4) into AI agents driven by an LLM (like ChatGPT or the recently released, and comparable, Llama 3.1). In the previous part, the Frostpeak Stalkers offered a win to a suicidal cat-man. They met a whole bunch of disrespectful skeletons and draugr. After clearing out an ancient barrow, my character tried to score with a bard.

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

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

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

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

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

It seems Uthgerd had transitioned from kill mode to congeniality.

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

I stood up from the chair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jofthor clenched his fists, shaking with anger.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• Previous part (23)
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Mantella is an AI system that turns every single NPC in Skyrim (and Fallout 4) into AI agents driven by an LLM (like ChatGPT or the recently released, and comparable, Llama 3.1). In the previous part, the Frostpeak Stalkers, renowned band of adventurers, discovered that the courier they were searching for had been eaten by bears, so they decided to become couriers themselves. My character met a suicidal cat-man monk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wilhelm chuckled and shook his head.

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

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

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

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

Awkwardly, the Frostpeak Stalkers entered the ruin by themselves.

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

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

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

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

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

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

A lot of hurting and undead-killing later…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• Previous part (22)
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Mantella is an AI system that turns every single NPC in Skyrim (and Fallout 4) into AI agents driven by an LLM (like ChatGPT or the recently released, and comparable, Llama 3.1). In the previous part, my character, an Altmer mage, along with the rest of the Frostpeak Stalkers, chatted with a pleasant old man, cleared out a small ancient ruin, then nearly died to a pissed-off wispmother. Once they rejoined their vampire companion Alva, they set off on the eastern road to Riften. As they braved the mountain pass, the cold and a snowstorm nearly froze them to death.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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