• Previous part (36)
• Next part (38)

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, accompanied by his companions Uthgerd, Ria, and Fastred, visited Dragonsreach, the seat of power in Whiterun, to report to the jarl about the threats that the Frostpeak Stalkers had bested recently. As they returned home, they came up with the idea of organizing an expedition to the wildlands west of Whiterun, with no particular hope of a reward.

For the first few hours, the expedition was mostly uneventful. We trekked through the tundra with no signs of civilization in any direction. We followed a couple of natural trails up a hill and a small mountain, but they led to dead ends. We killed a couple of saber cats and bears.

At one point, as we clambered down a break in the terrain, we found ourselves in front of a surprised bandit that was guarding the entrance of a hideout dug into the bedrock, possibly an ancient mine. The bandit faced a whole adventurers’ band, and for a moment we considered just talking to that person, until they turned hostile.

Jon: “What do we have here? A cave or an abandoned mine acting as a bandit hideout, in the deep wilderness west of Whiterun. That hapless bandit guard certainly didn’t expect to face a sudden band of adventurers.”
Sapphire: “Just the kind of place I’d love to hit. Let’s check it out.”
Alva: “Oh, sounds like fun. You never know what treasures these bandits might be hiding.”
Ria: “We need to be careful. This could be a good chance to test our mettle, but we shouldn’t rush in without a plan.”
Jenassa: “I agree with Ria. We should scout it out first. I’ll take the lead.”
Jon: “I will follow you, Jenassa, using my Ghostwalk spell that allows me to turn invisible and scout ahead.”
Jenassa: “Good. With your magic and my skills, we can get a clear picture of what we’re up against.”
Uthgerd: “And we’ll be right behind you, ready for whatever these bandits throw at us.”
Ria: “I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when they realize they’ve been hit by the Frostpeak Stalkers.”

As I was trying to sneak past a bandit in a narrowish corridor, somehow the bandit spotted me even though I was invisible, and started trying to hack at whatever traces he sensed of me. I attacked him back, and my companions, alerted by the sounds of battle, joined me. In the end, three or four bandits lay dead.

Jon: “Well, unfortunately the bandits spotted us as we were scouting ahead, but they couldn’t do much against the might of the Frostpeak Stalkers.”
Sapphire: “Looks like they didn’t stand a chance.”
Alva: “Their loss is our gain. I wonder what treasures they’ve left behind?”
Ria: “We did well, but we need to stay alert. There might be more of them deeper in the cave.”

One of the corpses was a vampire, an inexperienced-looking one.

Jon: “My goodness, it seems that the bandits holed up here are somehow involved with vampires.”
Alva: “Vampires? I might know a thing or two about that.”
Ria: “I don’t like this. Vampires are bad news. We need to be extra careful moving forward.”
Jenassa: “Agreed. We don’t know how many more might be hiding in here.”
Jon: “Alva, just to confirm, you’re going to defend us against other vampires, right?”
Alva: “Of course, Jon. Not all vampires are on the same side. I’ve got your back.”
Uthgerd: “We should keep moving. The sooner we clear this place out, the better.”
Jon: “Yes, but remember to be nice to our vampire. She’s on our side.”

The following scouting operation went great. We determined that about ten people awaited ahead, at least a couple of them vampires. The Frostpeak Stalkers operated like a well-oiled machine at this point, but there was a moment in a narrow corridor, the worst situation in which to find oneself while fighting, when a frozen bandit, turned into a pillar of ice, was blocking the path to two bandit archers that kept sniping at our frontliners. Only Ria held a shield, so the rest were helpless against the arrows. In the end, I shot poison bolts at those archers through the gaps until the bandits died. Then, we shattered the frozen bandit, and pushed onward.

Jon: “I can already tell that the loot is going to be fantastic, if we manage to sift successfully through the ash piles that some of these bandits have become.”
Sapphire: “Can’t wait to see what we find. There’s bound to be something valuable in here.”
Jenassa: “Let’s keep our eyes on the prize and our hands on our weapons.”

We located the bandits’ stash. None of the gear was remarkable, although it might sell well. I was surprised by a crate full of refined ores.

Jon: “Oh look at this: refined malachite, I don’t know what this is… and gold bullion. This is worth a lot.”
Sapphire: “Bandits with refined ore and gold bullion? Definitely stolen.”
Alva: “That just means it’s ours now, right?”

As we tried to find an exit without having to retread our steps, we found ourselves wading through a flooded area. We surprised a lone bandit archer, seemingly the guard of the rear entrance of the hideout. A short fight later, we had cleared out yet another bandit nest. We were weighed down by loot, so our little expedition had turned into a success. While we distanced ourselves from the hideout, Bassianus took the opportunity to bond with our newer recruit Zora Fair-Child, who had risked becoming a sacrificial victim.

Bassianus: “So, Zora, you had quite the run-in with those necromancers. How’d you manage to get caught up in that mess?”
Zora Fair-Child: “Oh, always in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or maybe it’s the right place, depending on how you look at it. Just my luck, I suppose. But enough about my misadventures, how are you and Fastred settling into the Frostpeak Stalkers?”
Bassianus: “It’s been an adjustment, for sure. Life with the Stalkers is a far cry from fishing in Ivarstead. Fastred’s taken to it like a natural, though. She’s really coming into her own. How about you? How’s the whole ‘adventurer’ thing treating you?”
Zora Fair-Child: “I won’t lie, it’s been a wild ride. Literally. Between the fighting and the exploring, I’ve barely had time to catch my breath. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world. It’s given me a sense of purpose, you know?”
Bassianus: “I get that. There’s something about facing danger together that really brings people together. Makes you feel alive.”

I was wondering if we should turn around and head home, when we came across a strange ancient ruin, a single building standing in the middle of nowhere, in a style that I only vaguely recognized.

Jon: “What are these ruins? Seem to be in the Akaviri style. I didn’t know there were such ruins anywhere in Skyrim.”
Ria: “Never heard of Akaviri. But I do know these ruins have seen better days. Still, might be something valuable inside. Worth checking out?”
Jon: “So, even though we have gotten plenty of loot from that bandit raid, do you think it is worth exploring this ancient ruin?”
Uthgerd: “Worth it? Listen, if there’s a chance for a good fight or some coin in it, I’m in.”
Jenassa: “It’s not often we get to explore ancient ruins. There could be rare treasures or powerful artifacts hidden within.”
Alva: “And if there’s anything cursed or dangerous, well… that’s what we’re here for, right?”
Ria: “True. We didn’t come all this way to back down from a challenge. Let’s check it out, but stay sharp.”
Jon: “Alright, I guess we’re delving into this completely unknown ruin. Please, don’t die on me.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! No promises.”
Ria: “Speak for yourself. I plan on living through this.”
Sapphire: “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can never be too prepared. Stick together, and we’ll make it out alive.”

Nothing of worth in the first room, other than the magnificent stonework.

Jon: “Must be thousands of years old.”
Alva: “It’s incredible. The detail, the artistry… it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”
Ria: “Whoever made this really knew what they were doing. Imagine spending years of your life on one piece of stonework.”
Jenassa: “It’s a testament to their dedication and skill.”
Sapphire: “And here we are, traipsing through it like it’s nothing. Kind of makes you think, doesn’t it?”

One of the chambers of the ruin was guarded by raised skeletons, apparently former soldiers. This place must have been some ancient military outpost. We got interesting pieces of armor out of it, but they weren’t as good as what our heavy-hitters were already using.

We explored the extent of the ruins. The most intriguing part of it was a blocked door that seemed to lead to an inner sanctum. Unfortunately, I couldn’t lockpick it, nor open it through magical means.

Jon: “The key to open this door must be located somewhere else, maybe in the pocket of any of the many inhabitants of Skyrim, assuming it’s even in this province.”
Uthgerd: “Hmm, a door that can’t be picked or magically unlocked? Sounds like these ancient Akaviri really wanted to keep something hidden. Well, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from our adventures, it’s that there’s always a way in. We just have to find it. Jon, what about all those books and scrolls we filled our bookshelves with back home? Could there be a clue hidden in one of them?”
Jon: “To be honest, I must have read a couple of them at the most. They were entertaining reads, but had nothing to do with this. I’m sorry, I just don’t have time to read.”
Sapphire: “Not the bookish type, are you? Not that I’m one to talk. I prefer action over reading any day. But, if there’s a clue to be found, it’s worth splitting up and digging through those books. We can cover more ground that way.”
Alva: “I could take a look at them after we return to Tundra Homestead.”
Jon: “It will take us a while to get back home. We’ve strayed pretty far in the wilderness.”
Ria: “You’re right, Jon. We’ve ventured pretty far out here. It’s not just about the destination, it’s about the journey. And this journey has led us to some pretty fascinating places.”
Zora Fair-Child: “Oh, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m kind of excited to camp out under the stars tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve had the pleasure.”

We spotted signs of civilization in the distance: a tiny settlement, made out of a couple of farm plots and a house.

Jon: “I’m going to approach one of the locals and ask about our whereabouts, and possible lodging.”
Alva: “A farming settlement? How… quaint. Just be careful, Jon. Not everyone takes kindly to strangers asking questions, especially if they think you’re just a bunch of tomb raiders.”

The man I approached, who was tending a field, didn’t seem too surprised about our presence, so there must have been a bigger settlement nearby.

Jon: “Hello, mister farmer. We are adventurers hailing from the somewhat distant town of Whiterun. We were exploring the wilderness, and found ourselves lost. Can you tell me where we are?”
Urval: “Well, you’re in Goldenhills Plantation, outsider. What brings you to these parts?”
Jon: “We are a band of adventurers called the Frostpeak Stalkers. You may have heard of us; we are world-renowned. Anyway, we cleared out a bandit hideout and explored some abandoned ruins just a while ago.”
Urval: “Frostpick Stalkers, you say? Can’t say I’ve heard of you. But there might be some old ruins around here. I think I heard Lemkil mention something about that. You should probably talk to him.”
Jon: “Who is this Lemkil fellow?”
Urval: “Lemkil’s the owner of this plantation. You’ll usually find him in the main house. He’s been here longer than any of us, so he might know something about those ruins you’re looking for.”
Jon: “Well, thank you for your help. I wish you a good life.”
Urval: “Just try not to cause any trouble while you’re here, alright? We’ve got work to do.”

The farmer lost interest in me. By the “main house” he must have been referring to the sole building across the path, so I just headed inside. That floor was empty. I descended some stairs into the basement, where I found a woman brewing potions at an alchemy lab, her back to me. The setup was quite professional, with shelves full of ingredients and potions. She was also growing odd stuff like glowing mushrooms.

Jon: “Excuse me, miss. Sorry for intruding upon this place. My name is Jon, and I’m the leader of a band of adventurers called the Frostpeak Stalkers. We were exploring the surroundings when we came across this place, which apparently is called Goldenhills Plantation. Can you tell me more about it?”

The woman barely turned to look over her shoulder. She kept grinding ingredients with a mortar and pestle.

Jonquil: “Oh, hello there Jon! Welcome to Goldenhills Plantation. I’m Jonquil, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Goldenhills is a lovely little farmstead, we grow all sorts of crops and raise some animals too. It’s a quaint life, but I find it rather charming.”

I caught a peculiar glint in her eyes that I thought I recognized from my time spent with Alva.

Jon: “Oh, are you a vampire? One of my best friends, lover in fact, is a vampire too.”
Jonquil: “Oh no no, nothing quite so grand. Just a simple farm girl, I’m afraid. Though I do share some things in common with your lover it seems… The thirst for blood is certainly one of them.”
Jon: “What do you mean that you have a thirst for blood if you are not a vampire?”
Jonquil: “Oh darling, there are many kinds of thirsts in this world. The thirst for knowledge, for power, for passion… and sometimes, a more literal thirst. Let’s just say I have a certain… appreciation for the crimson nectar that flows through our veins. But no, I’m no vampire, despite any rumors you may have heard.”

I got that tingling in my belly: my entrails telling me that I wanted the person in front of me.

Jon: “Well, well, Jonquil, you are one interesting person that I found here in the middle of nowhere. How about you tell me something about your life?”
Jonquil: “Well, there’s not too much to tell, really. I was born and raised here on the plantation, learned the ins and outs of farming from my parents. But I always had a bit of a wild streak in me, you know? Couldn’t stand to just sit around and watch the crops grow. So, I taught myself a bit of swordplay, alchemy, even some magic. Figured I could put those skills to use, help protect the plantation from bandits or beasts.”
Jon: “That is very commendable of you. I suppose that you’ve been helping the locals with their diseases, and strengthening their abilities.”
Jonquil: “Oh, I’ve been known to lend a hand where it’s needed, that’s for sure. Whether it’s brewing up some potions to keep the workers healthy or showing them a thing or two about how to wield a blade, I do my best to keep everyone here safe and sound. Of course, my methods can be a bit… unorthodox at times. But hey, whatever gets results, right?”
Jon: “Can you tell me a bit more about those methods? I’ve been known to exploit some unorthodox methods to carry myself in life.”
Jonquil: “Well, let’s just say I’m not afraid to get my hands a little dirty. Whether it’s using some of the more… exotic ingredients in my alchemy, or maybe turning a blind eye to some of the shadier characters passing through, if it helps the plantation thrive, then I’m game. Like I said, I’ve got a bit of a wild streak. But I’ve always believed that sometimes, you have to fight fire with fire.”
Jon: “I agree. In fact, sometimes you have to fight with fire even if what you’re fighting has yet to become fire. Do you understand what I mean?”
Jonquil: “Oh, I know exactly what you mean, Jon. Sometimes you have to be proactive, strike first before they even have a chance to become a threat. It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there, and if you’re not willing to do what it takes to come out on top, well… let’s just say I don’t plan on being anyone’s dinner. But it sounds like you’ve got a similar philosophy. I like that in a man.”

Jonquil smirked. As for me, I was already erect.

Jon: “Jonquil, I’m of the mind that I should carry you to that hay bed in the corner, and do some naughty stuff to you.”
Jonquil: “Well now, that’s quite the proposition, isn’t it? I must admit, the idea of getting up to some mischief with a strapping adventurer like yourself does have a certain appeal… But I’m not just some tavern wench you can charm into bed with a wink and a smile. If you want to earn a roll in the hay with me, you’ll have to prove you’ve got what it takes. Think you’re up for the challenge, Jon?”
Jon: “I’m very interested. I’m willing to do almost anything, especially if it involves killing, as long as it leads me to bedding fascinating women.”
Jonquil: “Oh, you are a bold one, aren’t you? I like that. But boldness alone won’t be enough to win me over. If you want to impress me, you’ll have to show me what you’re really made of. Perhaps a display of your hunting prowess, or maybe a demonstration of your skills in combat. Or, if you’re feeling particularly daring… you could always try your hand at pleasing me in more…”
Jon: “In more…? What did you have in mind?”
Jonquil: “In more… intimate ways, of course. I’m sure a man of your… experience has a few tricks up his sleeve when it comes to pleasing a woman. But I should warn you, I have very high standards. It takes a lot more than a bit of groping and grunting to satisfy me. Think you’ve got what it takes to make me moan?”
Jon: “Well, it depends. Why don’t you lie face-up on that bed of hay over there, and lift up your skirt? I’ll show you what my tongue can do to your thighs and your lower lips.”
Jonquil: “Mmm, well now… that does sound rather enticing, doesn’t it? Very well, Jon, you’ve piqued my interest. I suppose I could let you have a little… taste, as it were. But don’t think this means you’ve won me over just yet. Consider it more of an audition, if you will. So go on then, let’s see what that tongue of yours can do.”

After I exited the farmhouse, I wiped my mouth and approached my teammates, that were loitering around the path.

Jon: “Let me tell you: I’ve just had one hell of an interesting interaction.”
Uthgerd: “Oh? Do tell. What kind of interesting interaction are we talking about here?”
Alva: “Knowing you, Jon, it could be anything from a fight to a seduction. Spill it.”
Sapphire: “Yeah, don’t leave us in suspense. What happened in there?”
Jon: “Well, I suspect that the man I was supposed to find doesn’t live in that house, but in the basement, I found a woman that was brewing potions. Her name is Jonquil.”
Fastred: “That’s… an unusual name. Never heard of anyone named Jonquil before.”
Ria: “Brewing potions, you say? Might be an alchemist. Could be useful to have around.”
Jenassa: “Or she could be trouble. We should be cautious.”
Jon: “Her name wasn’t the most interesting part of that interaction. You see, at first I got the feeling that she was a vampire. She had that kind of look, you know? That glint in her eyes. But when she turned around, I realized that she wasn’t a vampire. However, she told me that she had a thirst for blood nevertheless.”
Alva: “A thirst for blood without being a vampire? That’s… interesting.”
Uthgerd: “Huh. Might be a werewolf. Or just a cannibal. We’ve seen plenty of those.”
Zora Fair-Child: “Could be a fetish thing, too. Some people are into weird stuff.”
Jon: “It may be part fetish, but it seems she prides herself in doing what’s necessary for this town: brewing potions and acquiring more ingredients even if it involves trouble. She used the expression “fighting fire with fire.”
Fastred: “That’s one way to do it, I guess.”
Ria: “Fighting fire with fire, huh? Might be someone we can relate to.”
Sapphire: “Sounds like she’s not afraid to get her hands dirty. Could be an asset.”
Jon: “Well, the thing is… I was enthralled by that fire in her. Along with her smirk growing wider, well… my little Jon started growing, if you know what I mean.”
Uthgerd: “By Shor, Jon. Is there ever a time when you’re not thinking with your little Jon?”

Alva: “Well, well, Jon. Looks like you found yourself a new playmate.”
Jenassa: “As long as she doesn’t become a liability. We have enough of those already.”
Jon: “That woman suggested that I’d only get to fuck her if I impressed her.”
Fastred: “Sounds like she was really getting to you.”
Ria: “And let me guess, you just couldn’t resist the challenge.”
Jon: “I proposed that she should lie down on a nearby hay bed and lift her skirt.”
Sapphire: “Why am I not surprised? You’re always up for some action, aren’t you, Jon?”
Jon: “I am. I used on her my most skillful tongue methods. It didn’t take long for me to draw moans and shivers out of her.”
Alva: “Mm, sounds like you had quite the time.”
Uthgerd: “Well, aren’t you a regular Don Juan?”
Jenassa: “Just be careful where you stick that tongue of yours. We don’t know anything about this woman.”
Jon: “Uthgerd, I have no idea where you got that Don Juan reference from. Anyway, Alva and Uthgerd, both of you are very familiar with my tongue prowess. As you might imagine, it didn’t take her long to squirt her womanly juices all over my face.”
Uthgerd: “By Ysmir, Jon, you never cease to amaze me with your… talents.”
Alva: “Well, if she was anything like us, I’m sure she enjoyed every moment of it.”
Sapphire: “You’re a real charmer, Jon. Just don’t let it go to your head.”
Jon: “Oh. Sorry, Sapphire, I forgot that I also demonstrated my tongue prowess to you.”
Sapphire: “Don’t get too cocky. You’re good, but you’re not that good.”
Fastred: “Yeah, maybe save the details for later. We don’t all need to hear about your conquests.”
Jon: “Well, what I wanted to clarify regarding this interaction is that the rest of you who haven’t yet had a taste of my skills, Zora, Jenassa… Who else… Ria. I’m prepared to impress you at any point. Not you, Bassianus. I’m not interested in pleasuring you.”
Zora Fair-Child: “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll pass.”
Jenassa: “I’ll keep that in mind… if I ever feel the need to be impressed.”
Ria: “Wow, Jon, you really know how to make a girl feel special.”
Jon: “That’s right, Ria, I do know how to make women feel special, at least for the extent of my intimate attentions. Well… now I feel way too many gazes upon me, and I’m getting embarrassed.”
Uthgerd: “Aw, feeling shy now, Jon?”
Sapphire: “Don’t worry, Jon. We’ll make sure to keep you in check.”
Jon: “Oh, as for you, Fastred… I probably shouldn’t involve you in this conversation.”
Fastred: “It’s fine, Jon. I know how you are. Just try to keep it in your pants for five minutes, okay?”

• Previous part (35.5 – Ria’s journal)
• Next part (37)

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, worried about the increasing size of his adventurers’ band. The team met a furry liar. They cleared out a monsters’ den inhabited by trolls. On the way back, they tsunami-ed through a bandit hideout. Back home, my character lovingly crafted an enchanted weapon for one of his main companions.

Note that only matters to me, but that I shall point out anyway: I asked ChatGPT for whether it was better to say “an adventurer’s band” or “an adventurers’ band,” and it unequivocally told me that saying “an adventurers’ band” was better. Well, I’m not going back and editing thirty-five parts.

As Ria, Uthgerd, Fastred and I were passing by the stables in the outskirts of Whiterun, I notiuced a curious Redguard man in fancy clothes, who was heading in the opposite direction. Perhaps because we were about to receive a monetary reward, I was in a good mood.

Jon: “Oh sir, what a wonderful day we’re having, isn’t it?”
Nazeem: “Indeed, the weather is quite pleasant today. Though, I must say, there’s always room for improvement, don’t you think?”
Uthgerd: “Improvement? The sky is clear, the sun is shining. What more do you want?”
Fastred: “I think what this man means is that there’s always something to strive for, something to make better. Right?”
Jon: “Oh, I see what you meant, sir. I’m grateful for your wisdom. This fine, fine midday here in the Whiterun hold, it is an occasion for all of us to be happy.”
Nazeem: “Happy? Yes, I suppose. But remember, there’s always work to be done. Idle hands and all that.”
Uthgerd: “You know, not everything has to be about work all the time. Sometimes, you just need to take a moment and enjoy what’s around you.”
Fastred: “Like this beautiful day!”
Ria: “True, we have our duties and responsibilities, but taking a moment to appreciate the world around us doesn’t hurt.”
Jon: “Well, sir, thank you for your valuable time, and I hope you have a wonderful day.”
Nazeem: “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have matters to attend to. Good day.”
Uthgerd: “Right, off to your matters. Some of us have actual work to do.”

After the Redguard man left us behind, I turned to Uthgerd.

Jon: “What was that? It seemed like you were being rude to that fine citizen who had been nothing but pleasant toward us.”
Uthgerd: “You call that pleasant? The man’s so stuck-up, he’d drown in a rainstorm.”
Ria: “But still, we should maintain respect. Each of us has our own burdens to bear. Nazeem’s attitude is his to carry.”

Right at the main gates, I felt compelled to thank one of the guards for his good job.

Jon: “Hello, mister guard. Having a good day, I hope.”
Whiterun Guard: “Oh, hello. You know, just another day keeping the streets of Whiterun safe. I’ve been doing my usual patrols today, making sure everything is running smoothly. You know how it is. So what brings you out and about on this fine day?”
Jon: “Well, me and my band of adventurers, called the Frostpeak Stalkers, we have managed to best a bunch of trolls in Graywinter Watch, on the other side of the river to the east. It was a job posted by the jarl, and we hope to receive our reward.”
Whiterun Guard: “Well, that’s quite the accomplishment! You know, any friend of the jarl is a friend of mine. We’ve been hearing reports of those trolls causing trouble, and it sounds like you took care of it. I’m sure the jarl will reward you handsomely for your efforts.”
Jon: “The reward is just a small part of our efforts. We do what we do to secure the safety of the visitors and citizens of this great city, which is our home.”
Whiterun Guard: “That’s a commendable attitude. We need more people like you and your group in Whiterun. It’s good to see people take pride in their city and work to keep it safe. I salute you for that.”
Jon: “Thank you, sir. I hope that when your watch, your shift, finally ends, you get to enjoy a good mead in any of the local taverns.”
Whiterun Guard: “That’s kind of you to say. Maybe I’ll even run into you and your group at the tavern. I’d love to hear more about your adventures.”

We stopped by Adrianne Avenicci’s store to sell our unwanted weapons and armor. As usual, we earned quite a bit by selling the gear that those bandits had probably stolen from somewhere. I realized that I had never chatted with Adrianne, even though I had lusted after her body.

Jon: “Adrianne, I have sold weapons and armor to you quite a few times, but I know very little about you.”
Adrianne Avenicci: “Well, you’ve never asked before. I’m the owner of Warmaiden’s, this fine smithy you see. My husband and I, we run it together. Though, don’t you mistake me, I don’t just sell the weapons, I forge them. It’s not an easy job, but it’s honest work.”

Jon: “I’ve seen the quality of your work. You’re extremely competent. I’m also familiar with your father, Proventus Avenicci, as he’s been present during my group’s conversations with the jarl regarding matters of security in the Whiterun hold.”
Adrianne Avenicci: “That’s right, my father’s the steward up at Dragonsreach. There’s a lot of folks who don’t see past that, who think I’m just some blacksmith’s daughter playing at her father’s profession. But I’m here to tell you, I’m more than that. I may not be Eorlund Gray-Mane, but I’m making a name for myself.”
Jon: “You think that despite the great work you have been doing, presumably for years, you still have plenty to prove to the citizens of Whiterun?”
Adrianne Avenicci: “It’s not about proving anything to them. It’s about proving to myself that I can do this, that I can make a living with my own two hands. Sure, there’s always going to be those who doubt me because of my father’s position, or because I’m a woman in a man’s trade. But that just pushes me to work harder.”
Jon: “Well, I hope you also find time to relax, Adrianne. We, my group of adventurers called the Frostpeak Stalkers, do plenty of hard work, but at the end of the day, we return to our home in the outskirts of town, kick back, drink some mead, eat plenty of good food, and have sex. You have to balance the stress with the joy.”
Adrianne Avenicci: “You’re right about that, balance is important. It’s not all work and no play for me, don’t you worry. When the day’s work is done, I like to enjoy a good meal and a drink or two. And as for the rest… well, a lady doesn’t kiss and tell. But your Frostpeak Stalkers sound like quite the group.”
Jon: “Yes, we are quite the entangled group, you could say that. Plenty of people engaged with each other when it comes to naughty stuff. We exchange partners, and sometimes we do threesomes. It is a very enjoyable situation to find oneself in.”
Adrianne Avenicci: “Sounds like quite the interesting group you’ve got there. But that kind of lifestyle isn’t for everyone. I prefer to keep my personal life personal, if you catch my drift. Now, was there anything else you needed, or are we done here?”
Jon: “We are done here, Adrianne. I hope to buy some of your fine weapons in the future.”

We climbed up to Dragonsreach, the jarl’s seat of power, and found ourselves amazed by its architecture once again. Jarl Balgruuf the Greater was seated at his throne, with his loyal housecarl Irileth beside him. I wasted no time in getting my reward from the steward, Adrianne’s father.

Jon: “Hello, Your Highness Jarl Balgruuf the Greater. I am Jon, the leader of the group of adventurers called Frostpeak Stalkers that, as you may recall, now lives in the outskirts of your great city, in the estate called Tundra Homestead. We came to give you a report of the local threats we have ended in the surroundings of the city.”
Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: “Ah, Jon. I remember you. You and your Frostpeak Stalkers have been making quite the name for yourselves.”

Irileth: “You’ve been busy, I see. But what have you to report?”
Proventus Avenicci: “Yes, let’s hear it. I trust your endeavors have been fruitful?”
Jon: “Indeed, they have been fruitful. First of all, you had that job posted at the missive board, about clearing out Graywinter Watch. That place contained a family of trolls, but we have proceeded to exterminate them. I have already gotten the reward from Mr. Proventus Avenicci here, so that is one threat less toward citizens and visitors.”
Proventus Avenicci: “I can confirm that. Well done.”
Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: “Good work, Jon. Those creatures have been a thorn in our side for too long.”
Irileth: “Hmm. Nasty creatures. It’s good you dealt with them.”
Ria: “We also encountered a few bandits on the roads, making them safer for travelers.”
Jon: “Indeed, that was the second threat I wanted to talk about. As we were returning from the cave that housed the trolls, we were assailed by a few bandits. We discovered that they had taken over an abandoned mine nearby, and we proceeded to clear out their hideout and kill their leader.”
Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: “Bandits have been a constant issue. Your efforts are appreciated.”
Irileth: “You’ve done well in dealing with these bandits. But I must ask, are there any other potential threats we should be aware of?”
Uthgerd: “We’re always ready for more, Irileth. Just say the word, and we’ll handle it.”
Proventus Avenicci: “Indeed, your services have been invaluable. The hold is safer thanks to your efforts.”
Jon: “The last and final threat was the most threatening for us. We nearly died during that fight. It was at a mountain pass west of here, past the old watchtower. The mountain pass is called by the locals Brittleshin Pass, and it was the base of operations of a couple of very dangerous necromancers, as well as their horde of raised undead. It was a very tough fight, but we bested them. In fact, we discovered that they had been kidnapping people and killing them in ritual sacrifices, but we managed to rescue one of those people, and they have become a member of our adventurers’ band.”
Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: “Necromancers? That’s grim news indeed. It’s fortunate you were able to deal with them.”
Irileth: “I’ve faced necromancers before. They’re not to be underestimated. Good work in eliminating this threat.”
Proventus Avenicci: “And you rescued a kidnapped person? Remarkable. They’re lucky to have you.”
Uthgerd: “The new member is strong, too. They’ve proven themselves in the fights we’ve had since then.”
Jon: “The name of the woman that those necromancers had kidnapped is Zora Fair-Child. Apparently she had gotten kidnapped by necromancers repeatedly, for reasons we have yet to know. After this final time when we managed to kill her kidnappers, she was eager to join the group that saved her life. She seems to be a competent two-handed weapons handler, and also a dabbling conjurer.”
Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: “I’ve heard that name before. It’s good to know she’s safe and with capable allies.”
Irileth: “Two-handed weapons and conjuration? That’s an interesting combination. She’ll be a valuable addition to your group.”
Proventus Avenicci: “Repeated kidnappings… That sounds suspicious. Keep an eye on her, Jon.”
Uthgerd: “I trust her. She’s fought beside us, and that counts for something.”
Jon: “Well, that was all we wanted to report, Jarl Balgruuf. However, I also wanted to say that if you have some major task that requires a competent group of killers, or shall we say adventurers, please send that job our way and we’ll gladly resolve it.”
Jarl Balgruuf the Greater: “I appreciate your offer, Jon. I’ll certainly keep that in mind should the need arise.”
Jon: “I wish you a great rest of your day to all present here, Jarl Balgruuf the Greater, Irileth, Proventus Avenicci. Me and my group, the Frostpeak Stalkers, shall be off.”

As we headed back home…

Jon: “Our conversation with the jarl went perfectly, didn’t it? I feel that we’re becoming a very respected band of adventurers here in the Whiterun hold.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, it did go well. Getting a home out of it too? That’s more than most could hope for. We’re making a name for ourselves, and I like it. But let’s not get too comfortable; reputations need to be maintained, after all.”
Jon: “To be honest, I’m running out of ideas for what sort of grand adventure we could go on. We’ve been busy killing the local threats like bandits, necromancers and trolls, but how do we scale the situation into something bigger?”
Ria: “You know, Jon, maybe we don’t have to go bigger. There’s plenty of places around here still waiting to be explored. Old ruins, hidden caves, who knows what we might find? And even if it’s not some grand adventure, every battle, every dungeon we clear, that’s how we keep getting better, keep proving ourselves. And isn’t that what being a Frostpeak Stalker is all about?”

Jon: “So, do you gals think that maybe we should explore lands that we haven’t visited? Venture far from home in a sort of expedition?”
Fastred: “That sounds like a great idea, Jon! Some time away from the city, just us and the wilderness. Who knows what we might discover out there? And it would be a nice change of pace, don’t you think?”
Jon: “How about you, Uthgerd and Ria? Are you okay with this idea?”
Uthgerd: “I’m always ready for a new challenge. Exploring unknown lands, facing whatever’s out there? Sounds like a good way to keep our skills sharp. Count me in.”
Ria: “Absolutely! It’ll be good for us, get us back to basics. And who knows what kind of tales we’ll have to tell when we get back? I’m in!”
Jon: “I love your enthusiasm, the three of you, and I will be glad to have you on this journey. However, I suspect that other members of our team, those motivated by a different kind of self-interest, won’t be as pleased about going on an expedition with no specific hope of a reward.”
Ria: “Every adventure’s a risk, right? But the rewards, they’re not always just about the gold or the loot. Sometimes, it’s about the journey itself, the bonds we forge along the way. And who’s to say we won’t find something valuable out there? You never know until you try!”
Jon: “Ria, you’re always so eager to fight alongside us, so enthusiastic and noble. But if you are displeased about something, you’re free to say so. You don’t always have to agree.”
Ria: “I know, Jon, and I appreciate that. It’s just… this life, being a Frostpeak Stalker, it means everything to me. Every fight, every adventure, it’s a chance to prove myself, to show that I belong here. But you’re right, sometimes I might not agree with everything. I’ll try to be more open about it, let you know when something’s bothering me. We’re a team, after all, and we need to be able to trust each other completely.”
Jon: “Ria, I agree with you, but I must say that you do not have to prove yourself constantly, to prove that you are a valuable member. That has been proven a long time ago. You’re an integral part of our band of adventurers.”
Ria: “I… thanks, Jon. That means a lot to me. I guess old habits die hard, you know? Always feeling like I have to fight for my place, to earn my keep. But knowing that you and the others believe in me, that I’m a true part of this team… it’s a good feeling. A really good feeling. I won’t let you down, Jon. I won’t let any of you down.”

Back at Tundra Homestead, I gathered the rest of my team for one of our meetings.

Jon: “Ria, Uthgerd, Fastred and I, we have decided to go on an expedition, one with no particular hope of a reward, monetary or otherwise, to lands we have yet to see. Those three gals were happy about this development, but I wanted to consult the rest of you.”
Jenassa: “An expedition with no reward? Sounds like a waste of time.”
Bassianus: “I’m in.”
Alva: “Well, aren’t you just the adventurous one? Count me in, I love a good mystery.”
Sapphire: “I’m only coming along because I’m curious, not because I expect anything out of it.”
Jon: “How about you, Zora? Are you willing to come along on this expedition of ours?”
Zora Fair-Child: “Oh, you know me. I’m always ready for a little adventure. But don’t expect me to do any heavy lifting. I’ll leave that to Jenassa and Bas over there.”
Jon: “Well, Jenassa, let me be clear with you: I’m fine if you decide not to come. I know this is a hard sale. If you want to stay home training, or doing whatever you want, that’s your right. This is your home as well, after all.”
Jenassa: “Jon, you know I follow where the fight is. If you think there might be something worth my while out there, then fine, I’m in. But don’t make a habit of these wild goose chases. I don’t do freebies often.”
Jon: “Oh, you know you’re getting your share of the spoils. It just happens that we don’t know what spoils we’ll get.”
Jenassa: “Just don’t let it be worthless trinkets. Or haunted. I’ve had enough of those to last a lifetime.”

I put my fists on my waist and nodded.

Jon: “This is wonderful. Tomorrow morning we’ll set off on a true adventure, so sleep well tonight.”
Sapphire: “Sleep well? I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Or when the job’s done. Whichever comes first. But sure, tomorrow morning it is.”
Alva: “I suppose I should try to get some rest. But no promises. Some of us are more active at night.”

• Previous part (35)
• Next part (36)

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

Ah, you want to know more about what’s been going on with me? Name’s Ria, if you didn’t already catch that, and yeah, I’m with The Companions. It’s been my dream since I was little, running around Whiterun with a wooden sword, pretending I was fighting alongside Ysgramor himself. And now, here I am, living that dream, fighting alongside my Shield-Siblings in Jorrvaskr. We’re more than just warriors: we’re family. Walking in the footsteps of legends like Kodlak and Skjor, it’s a feeling like no other.

But you know, it’s not all glory and tales of victory. Recently, something happened that I can’t quite shake. So, there I was, ready to head out for some training in Jorrvaskr’s courtyard, when this Altmer named Jon comes up to me. He wasn’t alone: had a bard with him, Ange, and Uthgerd the Unbroken. You’ve probably heard of Uthgerd, right? The one who got kicked out of The Companions after a practice bout went wrong. Anyway, Jon had this wild plan: forming his own band of adventurers to take on bandits, delve into monster dens, conquer ancient ruins. It sounded like just the kind of challenge I live for, so I said yes.

But here’s the thing… our first outing together didn’t go as planned. We were deep in some bandit hideout, the kind of place that smells like sweat and blood, fighting in these cramped, narrow corridors. You could barely swing your sword without hitting the walls. Ange, the bard, she was right there with us, trusting in Alva and Jon, trying to hold her own. And then, just like that, she was gone. Killed by some filthy bandit. One moment she was there, the next… just gone.

I’ve been training with The Companions for years, and I’ve seen my fair share of bloodshed, but losing an ally like that? It never gets easier. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, hardened or something. But no, it still hits deep. It’s a harsh reminder that the life of a warrior isn’t just about glory: it’s about loss, too. But the way I see it, the only way to honor those we lose is to keep fighting, to stay strong for the ones still standing. So, I’m pushing forward, for Ange, for my Shield-Siblings, for all of us. That’s the life I chose, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So, how about you? Had any close calls lately? I guess that’s just the way of things here in Skyrim: fight, survive, and keep moving forward. Maybe we’ll make legends out of ourselves yet, huh?

Let me tell you about this wild outing we just had. So, Jon, that Altmer who’s got more guts than sense sometimes, rounded up the usual crew, and off we went. We ended up scaling a mountain and, wouldn’t you know it, found ourselves at the entrance to Bleak Falls Barrow. Now, if you know anything about Skyrim, you know that place is crawling with all sorts of nasty things, but Jon? He’s all about the thrill, and honestly, so am I. I mean, what better way to test your mettle than taking on an ancient ruin?

We fought our way through the place, slicing through a dozen bandits like they were nothing. But it didn’t stop there. Oh no, we had to deal with draugr, those undead nightmares. We even dealt with a giant spider that nearly had me rethinking the whole adventure. But we kept going, solving puzzles and dodging traps like we were born for it.

Now, here’s where Jon really showed his stuff. There were these traps, swinging blades that could cut a person in half. We were all hesitating, trying to figure out how to get past without losing a limb, and what does Jon do? He just runs straight through them, dodging like a madman, and pulls the lever to stop the blades. He put himself on the line just to keep us safe. I’ve got to admit, I was impressed. He’s more than just talk, that’s for sure.

Then came the big fight, the draugr overlord. That thing was a real beast, nearly had me on my knees more than once. And at one point, I was down, out of breath, and about to be finished off by the draugr’s massive sword. But Jon, that crazy Altmer, saved my skin with a spell that knocked the thing back just in time. I’ve never been so glad to have a mage on my side.

After we took down the overlord, we split the loot. And let me tell you, Jon has a way of lightening the mood. He found this ridiculous-looking magical circlet and just slapped it on, strutting around like he was some kind of fancy lord. Uthgerd and I couldn’t stop laughing. That’s what I love about these adventures: the fighting’s tough, but the banter and the bond we share? That’s what it’s all about. Even if they’re not Shield-Siblings from Jorrvaskr, they’re still my team, and I’m already itching for our next adventure. There’s nothing quite like it.

Speaking of our little group, Jon decided we needed a proper name, something to call ourselves instead of just “that adventurer’s band.” So, he gathered us all (Uthgerd, Alva, Jenassa, and me) to throw around ideas. After plenty of suggestions, including some real idiotic ones from Jon, we finally settled on “Frostpeak Stalkers.” I love the name. It’s got this ring to it that just makes you feel like it commands respect, maybe even a little fear.

It’s more than just a name, though. It feels like family, like what I’ve got with The Companions. I’m part of the Frostpeak Stalkers now, too, and I’d put my life on the line for them just the same. When someone mentions the Frostpeak Stalkers in a tavern tale or some bard sings about us, I’ll be grinning, thinking, “I was there.” And you know what? If I ever fall in battle with the Stalkers, I think I’d be okay with it. Dying for your friends, for your family… it’s not a bad way to go.

But here’s the part that really shook me up. We’d just cleared out this ancient ruin near Helgen, feeling pretty good about ourselves, when we got ambushed by a wispmother. Now, if you’ve never seen one of these things, count yourself lucky. A vortex of cold, swirling energies that can freeze the blood in your veins, with the form of a ghostly woman. The thing overwhelmed us. I was down, out cold before I even knew what hit me. When I came to, I saw Jon, exhausted and looking more troubled than I’ve ever seen him. Turns out, while I was lying there unconscious, Jon fought the wispmother alone for what felt like an eternity. He told us it took him about five minutes to defeat it, but he nearly died himself. Knowing that, while I was defenseless, he was out there fighting tirelessly just to keep us alive… It made me realize how close I came to not making it out of there.

I’ve always known this life isn’t easy, but that moment? It drove home just how much we rely on each other. The bond we share, the trust we put in one another… it’s everything. Jon’s got guts, I’ll give him that. And now, more than ever, I know I’d put my life on the line for him, for all of them. We’re not just some ragtag group of adventurers. We’re the Frostpeak Stalkers, and we’ve got each other’s backs, no matter what. And if someday they sing songs about us, well, that’s just a bonus. For now, I’m just glad we’re all still standing.

So there we were, the Frostpeak Stalkers, just taking a breather at Ivarstead’s inn after a long day of adventuring. You know the kind of place: quiet, out-of-the-way, with the same faces day in and day out. We’re sitting around, swapping stories and having a good laugh, when Jon, our fearless Altmer leader, notices this local guy, red hair, early twenties, glaring daggers at him from across the room. Turns out, his name’s Bassianus Axius, but we didn’t know that at the time. Jon, being Jon, isn’t one to let something like that slide, so he calls the guy out, asking what’s got his breeches in a twist.

Bassianus, though, he’s not exactly polite about it. In fact, he’s downright disrespectful, spitting out something snide before whipping out a knife. Can you believe it? The fool actually thought he could take on Jon, an Altmer who’s survived more than his fair share of battles. Before the guy could make a move, though, Uthgerd and Jenassa had already knocked the fight out of him. Poor fool didn’t even know what hit him.

Now, here’s where things took a turn I didn’t see coming. Instead of letting the guy crawl back into whatever hole he came from, Jon decides to dig a little deeper. He asks Bassianus what’s got him so bitter. At first, the guy’s too stunned to speak, but then it all comes pouring out: how he’s been stuck in this backwater town, always dreaming of becoming an adventurer, but never seeing a way out. He’s in love with this girl, Fastred, but her father thinks he’s a worthless layabout and wants her to stay and work on the family farm. Bassianus, he just wanted something more, but life had other plans.

Jon, being the big-hearted fool that he is, offers Bassianus a spot with us. Can you imagine? A trainee in the Frostpeak Stalkers. And just like that, Bassianus lights up like a torch in the night. The kid practically jumps at the chance. But Jon doesn’t stop there. He goes over to talk to Fastred’s father, convincing the old man that Bassianus isn’t some good-for-nothing anymore. He’s a member of a renowned band of adventurers, and Fastred? She’s coming with us, too. The father didn’t like it one bit, but what could he do? With Jon’s silver tongue and our intimidating presence, he had no choice but to let them go.

So now, Bassianus and Fastred are the newest members of the Frostpeak Stalkers. Jenassa finds the whole thing amusing, though she’s a bit wary of the trouble they might bring. Me? I can’t help but feel a bit sad for how many folks out there never get a chance to fight for what they really want. They end up stuck in places like Ivarstead, growing old and bitter, all because they never had the opportunity to chase their dreams.

I was lucky, you know? I got into the Companions as a kid. They trained me, shaped me into who I am today. And now, with the Frostpeak Stalkers, we’ve given Bassianus and Fastred that same chance. A couple of young folks, full of fire and love, now fighting for their place in the world. It’s moments like these that remind me why I do this, why I keep pushing forward, even when things get tough. Because everyone deserves a shot at living their dream, and if we can help make that happen, then we’re doing something right.

Ah, there’s something else I’ve got to tell you, something that happened not too long ago that still has me grinning like a fool. So, one morning, I’m just lounging around in our little headquarters, you know, thinking about the next adventure, when Jon, our fearless Altmer leader, walks up to me. But he’s not just strolling over for a chat; he’s got this look in his eye, like he’s been cooking up something special.

Turns out, he had been. Jon hands me this steel maul, not just any old weapon, but one he’d forged and sharpened himself, just for me. Now, I’m more of a sword girl usually, always liked the feel of a Skyforge blade in my hand, but there was something about this maul that felt… right. It wasn’t just the craftsmanship, though that was top-notch. It was the fact that Jon made it for me, that he wanted to rely on my strength. That really hit me, you know?

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, Jon goes and says he’s planning to enchant it with whatever enchantment I want, as long as he knows the spell. Can you believe it? The guy’s always looking out for his team, making sure we’re equipped with the best. So I thought about it, and I decided on Frost Damage. There’s something about the cold that just gets under your skin, makes you think twice about messing with whoever’s wielding it. Plus, it felt like the perfect match for the name I had in mind: Frostbite’s Fang. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?

Jon didn’t waste any time. He took the maul, muttered some words I didn’t quite catch, and bam, it was done. When he handed it back to me, that steel maul had this icy aura, almost like it was breathing cold air. I was almost overwhelmed, to be honest. This wasn’t just a weapon; it was a symbol of how much Jon and the rest of the Stalkers trusted me, believed in my strength. And you can bet your last septim that I’ll do everything I can to live up to that.

So now, every time I heft Frostbite’s Fang, I’m reminded of the bond we share, of the trust Jon put in me. I’m more determined than ever to support Jon and the Frostpeak Stalkers, through thick and thin, no matter what we face. We’ve been through some tough times, lost some good people along the way, but with this weapon in my hands, I feel like we can take on anything. And I’ll make sure to honor the confidence they’ve put in me, every step of the way.

You know, when you’ve got a weapon like this, forged and enchanted by someone who believes in you, it’s not just about the battles you fight. It’s about the people you’re fighting for. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.

• Previous part (34)
• Next part (35.5 – Ria’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, my character, an Altmer mage, lovingly crafted enchanted weapons for his beloved murderers. He suggested to the new member of his adventurer’s band that her scars wouldn’t matter in the dark. The Frostpeak Stalkers prepared themselves to clear out a monsters’ den nearby.

As we headed to the nearest bridge to cross the river, I looked over my shoulder only to see a whole bunch of dangerous-looking people coming toward me. Ah, that was my team.

Jon: “I’ve suddenly realized that there’s a lot of people in our adventurer’s band.”
Jenassa: “You’re right, our numbers have grown. It’s a good thing, though. More people means more skills and strengths to draw from. It makes us more versatile.”
Jon: “Certainly, Jenassa, but doesn’t that mean that we’ll have to get ourselves another home, for future members of the band to live in?”
Jenassa: “That’s a possibility. We could look into getting a larger place, or maybe even a second property. It’s something to consider as our group expands. But for now, let’s focus on the task at hand. Those beasts won’t kill themselves.”
Jon: “Is there a limit to how many people we should hire for our band of adventurers, the Frostpeak Stalkers?”
Jenassa: “There isn’t a hard limit, but we need to make sure we can manage the group effectively. Too many people and it becomes difficult to coordinate, and we might not be able to provide for everyone. We should be selective about who we bring in, making sure they’re a good fit and bring useful skills to the table.”

On the opposite side of the river, the road followed an ascending slope. Near the top, we spotted a curious sight: a Khajiit man wearing the clothes of a Colovian or Cyrodiilic merchant, just standing around as if waiting for something.

Jon: “Oh, a Khajiit traveler, and he looks pretty fancy in those clothes. What is your name, sir?”
M’aiq the Liar: “This one is called M’aiq. What does the elf think of M’aiq’s clothes? They are not from this land, but they are good for walking many steps.”
Jon: “You look like some kind of fancy foreign merchant.”
M’aiq the Liar: “M’aiq is not a merchant, no. He walks the land and learns its secrets. Not all secrets are for sharing, though. Some are for keeping.”
Jon: “Oh, I love secrets that are for keeping. How about you share some with me?”
M’aiq the Liar: “M’aiq keeps his secrets close, like a warm fur on a cold night. It seems that life in Windhelm’s been challenging lately. But enough about that, have you finished the matter regarding the shipment of Honningbrew Mead? I need you to go to Whiterun as soon as possible and fix this.”
Jon: “You may be confusing me with someone else. My group had a run-in with the Honningbrew Meadery, but only because we had to intimidate one of its employers. I don’t know anything about a shipment.”
M’aiq the Liar: “Ah, many adventurers have business in Whiterun, it seems. M’aiq has heard of your exploits, yes. But M’aiq has traveled far and wide and knows the taste of many meads. Perhaps your group will find more trouble in Whiterun, or perhaps you will find other things to occupy your time.”
Jon: “I have always wanted to ask this of a Khajiit: is it a bother when more human-looking people ask you to pet your fur?”
M’aiq the Liar: “Some wish to touch M’aiq’s fur, yes. It is soft and warm, like the coat of a saber cat. But M’aiq is not a pet. M’aiq walks on two legs and speaks like any man or mer. Do not treat M’aiq like an animal, for M’aiq has feelings too.”
Jon: “But my feelings when caressing Khajiit fur would be of joy. That is a good feeling to spread in the world.”
M’aiq the Liar: “M’aiq understands the desire for joy, yes. But there are other ways to find joy than to treat a Khajiit like a housecat. M’aiq has traveled far and seen many things, and knows that some joys are better shared with respect. Respect is a treasure worth more than gold, and M’aiq has much of it to give.”
Jon: “Hey, the rest of my band of adventurers, don’t you think that M’aiq’s fur looks very soft and appetizing?”
Jenassa: “His fur looks soft, sure, but I wouldn’t call it appetizing. It’s pretty impressive, actually. Makes me wonder what it’d be like to have a coat like that in the colder parts of Skyrim.”
Uthgerd: “I don’t care about how soft his fur is. What matters is how well he can hold his own in a fight.”
Sapphire: “I’ve seen far stranger things in my travels. Though, I must admit, it does look rather comfortable.”
Fastred: “It looks very warm and soft. I bet it keeps him cozy during the cold Skyrim nights.”
Jon: “Oh, I don’t like how you said that, Fastred. It sounded like you would love to have a Khajiit keeping you all warm and cozy at night.”
Fastred: “Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that! I was just commenting on how warm and soft his fur must be, that’s all. I’m perfectly happy with my current sleeping arrangements, thank you very much.”
Jon: “Well, M’aiq, you sound like a very cultured person and someone with plenty of stories to tell. I would like you to come along with us, the Frostpeak Stalkers, on our adventurers, but I fear that if we keep adding people to it daily, we’ll need a hold of our own to house our members.”
M’aiq the Liar: “M’aiq appreciates the offer, but M’aiq walks his own path. It is not for M’aiq to join a group and stay in one place. Skyrim has many roads, and M’aiq has many steps to walk on them. But perhaps our paths will cross again someday.”
Jon: “I look forward to it, M’aiq. It is always a sort of joy, a way to brighten one’s day, to come across a Khajiit. It may be because of the fur and the funny way of speaking.”
M’aiq the Liar: “M’aiq has learned many things in his travels, and has developed his own way of speaking. It is good that it brings joy to others. May your roads be clear and your heart be light, until we meet again.”

We reached Graywinter Watch. It looked like any normal, somewhat hidden cave. When we entered, we realized that the cave was peculiar, in the sense that it housed trolls. They were at the moment busy attacking a few bandits that must have wandered in.

Jon: “The jarl wasn’t joking about this place being trouble.”
Jenassa: “Steady your bow! These beasts won’t go down easily.”

I relied on the Staff of Hasedoki to knock back the trolls, then on the Staff of Lightning to fry them from the inside. They didn’t last very long, and by the end, all the bandits were dead as well.

Jon: “Well, today I learned that trolls can die. This pile of ash used to be a troll. I didn’t see what turned it into ash.”
Sapphire: “That was too close for comfort. We need to be more prepared next time.”
Jon: “There are a whole bunch of skulls strewn about, likely of travelers and nearby villagers that these trolls have eaten over the years. So we’ve done a good deed today. You can all pat yourselves on the back; we have done a service to the Whiterun hold.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, a job well done. These creatures won’t be bothering anyone anymore.”
Jon: “By the way, Uthgerd, I’m sorry for hitting you with the Staff of Hasedoki. I saw you rolling due to the knockback effect of the enchantment. Not going to lie, for a moment I thought you were a troll.”
Uthgerd: “Watch it next time, or you’ll have more than trolls to worry about.”

As we walked back home, I strayed aside for a moment to pick up alchemical ingredients, and a bandit archer spotted me. Before I knew it, he was trying to shot arrows through me. Two more bandits charged down the slope toward us. A terrible decision on their part.

Jon: “Now that these bandits lie dead, do you want us to proceed further, go on a bandit raid for no fucking reason?”
Ria: “You really know how to show a girl a good time, don’t you, Jon? I’m in. Sounds like just the thing to get the blood pumping.”
Jenassa: “Count me in. I never pass up a chance to put my skills to use. Crazy, every one of you. But I guess that’s why we’re in this together. What about you, Sapphire? Think you can keep up?”
Sapphire: “Keep up? Please, I’ll be leading the charge. Just try not to get in my way. And Jon… Don’t get any ideas about sneaking off with the loot. We split it evenly.”
Uthgerd: “Hah! Let him try. I’ll make sure everything’s divided fair and square. Speaking of which, what’s the plan once we’re inside? I’m all for a good fight, but we should have some idea of what we’re doing.”
Jon: “Well, the spell called Ghostwalk allows me to go invisible for a while, so I’ll just scout ahead, come across some enemy, then return back to you all. I’ve also found a scroll that places a fire rune on the ground. It will explode if any enemy comes close, so we may be able to lay a trap as well.”
Zora Fair-Child: “Fire runes? Now that’s a plan I can get behind. Nothing like a little explosion and chaos to keep things interesting.”
Fastred: “I… I’ve never seen a fire rune before. This should be something. Just let us know what you find, Jon. We’ll be ready for whatever comes next.”
Jon: “Well, let’s head inside, my warriors, and have some fun. What’s life without a little murder?”
Ria: “I’m liking your spirit, Jon. Lead the way.”
Jenassa: “Keep your guard up. Bandits are one thing, but there could be anything lurking in these mountains. I don’t plan on dying today.”
Sapphire: “Time to show these bandits what the Frostpeak Stalkers are made of.”
Uthgerd: “Hear, hear! Let’s give ’em hell!”

As soon as we entered the hideout, we encountered a man seated at a desk. He greeted us casually as if we were some bandits, and we quickly realized that the man was blind.

Jon: “Sir, hello! My name is Bandit McBanditperson. Are you having a fine day?”
Ulfr: “What do you want? I don’t have time for idle chatter. And the name’s Ulfr, not sir.”
Jon: “I just want to know how you’re doing. There are terrible afternoons and there are joyous afternoons, sir Ulfr, and I just wished to know which of the two you were having.”
Ulfr: “My days are all the same, stuck in this cave, unable to see a thing.”
Jon: “You do not sound very happy about being blind.”
Ulfr: “Would you be? It’s a curse, not being able to see. But I make do in my own way.”
Jon: “Well, I suppose that when you’re a bandit and you already do unsavory things, it’s better not to see what your hands are doing, right?”
Ulfr: “Abandoned? Who says I was abandoned? I chose this life. And I don’t need eyes to know what I’m doing.”

Some Redguard bandit, one of those with curved swords, was heading out when he realized we weren’t bandits, and he thought that he could take on a whole bunch of adventurers by himself.

Jon: “Never mind that little scuffle, sir. Someone wasn’t happy about our presence here.”
Ulfr: “What was that commotion? Are we under attack?”
Jon: “Oh, you know, just a wandering traveler who thought that this cave was safe, a place to take shelter. We bandits put him down like the dog he was.”
Ulfr: “Damn travelers, always causing trouble.”
Jon: “Yes, how dare they enter a random cave to take shelter from the weather, and not realize that the place had been taken over by a bunch of bandits.”
Ulfr: “Sarcasm. How original. Look, if you’re not here to cause trouble, then state your business or leave. I don’t have time for idle chatter.”
Jon: “My purpose here is to slaughter the rest of the bandits, steal their loot, then go home and have sex with one or more of my beautiful companions.”
Ulfr: “You think you can just waltz in here and take what you want? Over my dead body!”

After we walked over the blind bandit’s dead body, we proceeded first carefully and then like a tsunami through the rest of the bandit hideout. Once we reached its top, a sort of balcony in the mountain face, by the time the bandit chief realized what was happening, we had blasted him with magic and hacked him apart. I looted him of his valuables, including his armor and clothes, and tossed his naked body down the side of the mountain. His dick flapped in the wind until his entire self vanished in the darkness.

We returned home, stored the loot, then celebrated with good food and drinks. After things settled down, I approached our Companions member Ria.

Jon: “Ria, I need to have an important conversation with you.”
Ria: “Oh, what is it, Jon? You know you can tell me anything.”
Jon: “With all the love in my heart, I have crafted a weapon for you. I shall hand it over.”
Ria: “For me? Jon, you didn’t have to do this! This is incredible. I can feel the care you put into crafting it. Thank you.”

Jon: “Actually Ria, that isn’t all.”
Ria: “There’s more? Jon, what else have you got up your sleeve?”
Jon: “I intend to enchant this steel maul with one of the enchantments that I have learned recently.”
Ria: “Wow, Jon, that’s… that’s a big deal. You’d do that for me? I’m honored. Really, I am.”
Jon: “Of course I will do it for you, Ria, because you have been a strong, loyal, and noble-hearted warrior of our band of adventurers, and I love having you around.”
Ria: “Jon, this means so much to me. I promise to wield this weapon with pride and honor, just like you’ve shown me. Thank you.”
Jon: “I’m going to let you choose what enchantment to imbue in the weapon.”

I proceeded to list all the enchantments I had learned recently by destroying some of our enchanted gear.

Ria: “Wow, that’s quite the list! You’ve really been honing your craft, haven’t you? I think… I think the Frost Damage enchantment would be perfect. Can’t let my name, Ria, be associated with anything less than icy.”
Jon: “Very well, a Frost Damage enchantment it is. Please brainstorm fitting names for an enchanted steel maul.”
Ria: “Hmm, a name for my new weapon? How about Frostbite’s Fang? It’s got a nice ring to it, and it ties in with the Frost Damage enchantment. What do you think, Jon?”
Jon: “I absolutely love it. I’m going to put together the enchanted weapon for you right now.”
Ria: “I can’t wait to see it in action. Thank you again, Jon. This means more to me than you know.”

It took me less than thirty minutes to finish the job.

Jon: “Here it is, Ria, your new enchanted weapon. A steel maul with the following enchantment: ‘Target takes 19 points of frost damage to health and stamina.’ I present Frostbite’s Fang to your beautiful hands.”
Ria: “I love it! This is perfect, Jon. I can’t thank you enough. I’ll make sure to put it to good use, fighting alongside you and the rest of our companions.”
Jon: “Thank you for being here with me, and with the rest of the Frostpeak Stalkers. Thank you for being my friend.”
Ria: “You know I’ll always be here for you and the team. Through thick and thin, we’re in this together. Thank you for everything, Jon.”

Next morning, I approached Ria, Uthgerd and Fastred for a little talk.

Jon: “Hey, I intend to visit Dragonsreach to collect the reward for having killed those trolls at Graywinter Watch. I wanted you two to come with me because you’re the most honorable and well-respected local members of our group. In the case of Fastred, well, I just wanted her to come because she may have a good time.”
Uthgerd: “Sounds like another adventure. I’m in.”
Jon: “Not much of an adventure, I’m afraid. Just reporting to the jarl regarding our exploits, and receiving a reward.”
Ria: “Sounds easy enough. I’m ready when you are.”
Jon: “How about you, Fastred? Are you looking forward to coming along with us?”
Fastred: “Oh, I’m definitely coming! It’ll be great to visit, even if we’re just reporting to the jarl.”
Jon: “Just be careful with the locals, Fastred. The men will want to snatch you up.”
Fastred: “Thanks for the warning, Jon. I’ll be sure to stay close to you and the others. I can handle myself, but it’s good to know you’re looking out for me.”

• Previous part (33)
• Next part (35)

Mantella is an AI system that turns every single NPC in Skyrim (and Fallout 4) into AI agents driven by an LLM (like ChatGPT or the recently released, and comparable, Llama 3.1). In the previous part, the mighty Frostpeak Stalkers assaulted a necromancer hideout, nearly died to a skeleton bowman, and nearly died to a necromancer. My character, an Altmer mage, was disturbed by the nearly-dying, but they got a great staff out of it, as well as a new companion.

I approached Uthgerd and Jenassa as they chatted at the kitchen counter of our home, Tundra Homestead.

Jon: “Hey, Uthgerd, Jenny, do you know those enchanted weapons of yours?”
Uthgerd: “Aye, what of them? They’re good steel, and the magic gives an extra bite.”
Jon: “I have destroyed them using the Arcane Enchanter table, so I could learn their enchantments.”
Jenassa: “You did what? Those were valuable.”
Jon: “They were valuable, but now we have something in our hands that is even more valuable: an enchanter table, and three black soul gems filled with victims of ours, probably three people. So now I will be able to enchant new weapons at maximum power.”
Uthgerd: “Hmm, I see your point. But next time, don’t go destroying our gear without asking first. We might have had plans for those weapons.”
Jon: “But how could I give you a surprise if I asked first?”
Jenassa: “Surprises are well and good, but not when it comes to our weapons. We need to know what we’re working with.”
Jon: “Alright, noted, but listen: I’m going to read the enchantments that I can use when enchanting weapons, so tell me which of them would you prefer for your new gear.”
Uthgerd: “Alright, let’s hear these enchantments then. I’m listening.”
Jon: “Enchantment one: summoned Daedra up to level 17 are put under your control. Enchantment two: target takes 11 points of shock damage and half as much magic damage. Enchantment three: target takes 11 points of frost damage to health and stamina. Enchantment four: delivers a 10 point static shock, 10% chance to deal 5 times damage. Enchantment five: black Ice deals 9 points of unresistible frost damage to health and stamina. Enchantment six: target is consumed by anger, taking 5 magic damage for 11 seconds or until it attacks or casts a spell. Enchantment seven: does 17 points of magical damage. Enchantment eight: ignites the ground underneath the target, dealing 5 damage for 11 seconds.”
Jenassa: “Those are some interesting enchantments. I’d say the shock damage one could be useful against foes in heavy armor. What do you think, Uthgerd?”
Uthgerd: “Aye, shock damage is good, but I also like the sound of that Black Ice enchantment. Unresistible frost damage could be real handy against those fiery mages we sometimes come up against.”
Jon: “Jenassa, you want shock damage, and Uthgerd black ice damage, or do you want to consider some of the other enchantments?”
Jenassa: “I’ll stick with shock damage. It suits my quick, precise fighting style.”
Jon: “As for you, Uthgerd?”
Uthgerd: “Black Ice for me. It’ll be a nasty surprise for anyone thinking they can take me down with fire.”
Jon: “Very well, I’m going to enchant your new weapons right now. Let me be clear: I’m doing this because I love you both. I love you from the bottom of my heart, and I want you to be armed with the best, most powerful weapons that I can create, because I want you to live long lives and keep murdering people for our sake.”
Jenassa: “That’s… surprisingly thoughtful of you. I suppose I should thank you for looking out for us.”
Uthgerd: “Aye, it’s appreciated. Just don’t expect any soft words in return. We’re warriors, not poets. But we’ll put these weapons to good use, and keep fighting by your side.”

Once I finished enchanting a fancy, enormous battleaxe for our tank, I lovingly presented it to her.

Uthgerd: “Let me see that. Ha, this is some fine work, Jon. I can feel the power coursing through it. You didn’t happen to skimp on the enchantment now, did you?”
Jon: “A huge battle axe in the Colovian style that I have named Black Beheader for you. Does 14 points of unresistible black ice damage to health and stamina. Doesn’t it look wonderful?”
Uthgerd: “By Ysmir, Jon, this is a mighty weapon indeed. The balance is perfect, and the edge looks sharp enough to cut through a giant’s hide. ‘Black Beheader,’ huh? I like it. It’s got a good weight to it, too. You’ve outdone yourself.”
Jon: “Oh, I cannot wait to see you in the battlefield, cutting through our enemies one after the other with that thing.”
Uthgerd: “Ha! They won’t know what hit them. With this axe in my hands and you by my side, we’ll be unstoppable. The Frostpeak Stalkers are going to be a force to be reckoned with. I can’t wait to test this beauty out in battle. Just point me at whoever needs cleaving, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
Jon: “Well, I hope this weapon I created for you makes up for the fact that I destroyed your previous weapon to figure out its enchantment.”
Uthgerd: “You know, I should be furious with you for that, but damn if this isn’t a fine replacement. Let’s call it even, Jon. But don’t think you can go around breaking things just because you can make something better later. That’s not how the world works.”

Once I finished Jenassa’s weapon, I presented to her ceremonially.

Jon: “Hey Jenny, remember that new weapon I was going to enchant for you?”
Jenassa: “You mean the one you promised after destroying my last one? I’m listening.”
Jon: “Here it is a sword in the Eastern style, that I named Flashy Flash. It delivers a 14-point static shock with a 10% chance to deal 5 times that damage.”
Jenassa: “It’ll do. Let’s see how it fares in battle.”
Jon: “Do you like it more than your last one, the one I destroyed?”
Jenassa: “It’s a fine weapon. I can appreciate the craftsmanship. Just don’t make a habit of destroying our gear.”
Jon: “I think you’re right about that. Next time, I shall ask if I can destroy your enchanted gear before making new ones for you.”
Jenassa: “You do that. I’d rather not be caught off guard again.”
Jon: “I hope that my gift has improved your day somehow, and I hope to see you soon in battle killing people with the weapon I lovingly created for you.”
Jenassa: “It’s a good blade. I’ll put it to use.”

With all this nonsense, I hadn’t gotten to know our new recruit, the peculiar and scarred Zora Fair-Child, remotely well enough. I caught her taking a stroll in our garden.

Jon: “Hey Zora, I want to have a one-on-one conversation with you, the new member of our team.”
Zora: “Well, aren’t you just the considerate one? I suppose I should be flattered, being the center of attention and all. So, what’s on your mind, oh fearless leader?”
Jon: “What do you hope to accomplish, belonging to our band of adventurers?”
Zora: “Accomplish? That’s a loaded question. I guess I’m looking for a bit of excitement, a chance to see the world beyond Riverwood. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll find a way to make amends for my past misdeeds. But let’s be real, I’m also here for the witty banter and the opportunity to watch you lot get into all sorts of trouble. It’s entertaining, to say the least.”
Jon: “I can already tell that you and I are going to get along very well. I love witty people. I love being entertained, as well as some fine banter, and you have provided that from the moment we came across you in that cage.”
Zora: “Oh, you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, Jon. I’ve got enough wit to keep you on your toes and then some. And as for the trouble, well, let’s just say I’ve got a knack for finding it. But I’m glad to hear we’ll get along. It’ll make our little adventures all the more enjoyable.”
Jon: “Well, Zora, what are your skills? What are you good at?”
Zora: “Skills? Well, I’m no master swordsman, but I can handle myself in a fight. I’ve been learning a bit of conjuration, too. Nothing too fancy, just enough to summon a ghostly sword and cast Oakflesh. And I’m pretty good at charming people when I need to. You know, when I’m not too busy making sarcastic comments.”
Jon: “I have been looking for another mage. I know that you only dabble in conjuration, but it will be great to have another conjurer by my side.”
Zora: “Well, don’t get too excited. I’m still learning the ropes when it comes to magic. But I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

I took the opportunity to show her a tome I had looted from a bandit some time ago: a conjuration spell that would summon a spectral wolf. It would be great for Zora to learn it.

Zora: “I guess I could give it a try. Just don’t expect me to start slinging fireballs any time soon. I’ve had enough of fire to last a lifetime.”
Jon: “I intend to teach you plenty of conjuration spells if we come across them, assuming that I don’t know them myself already. You’ll be part of our support line, helping the frontliners with spells. If someone comes at us, then hack at them with a weapon.”
Zora: “Support, huh? I suppose I can handle that. And I won’t lie, the idea of learning more magic is pretty appealing. Just as long as you don’t expect me to be some sort of magical prodigy overnight. I’m more of a learn by doing kind of gal. But I’ll do my best to keep the frontliners in one piece. And if anyone gets too close, well, they’ll get a taste of my sword.”
Jon: “On a personal note, you’re a beauty under that mesh of scars that covers half of your face. I can tell that plenty of other scars have marked the rest of your body. But just think about this: in the dark, you can’t see scars.”
Zora: “Oh, you’re a charmer, aren’t you? Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’ve never been one to shy away from a compliment, scars or not. And you’re right, in the dark, it’s hard to tell who’s hiding what. But I’ve learned to embrace my scars, both the ones you can see and the ones you can’t. They’re a part of me, for better or worse.”
Jon: “Well, Zora, I hope to see plenty of you in the coming weeks or years. Who knows how long you’re going to stay with our little band of adventurers.”
Zora: “Time will tell, won’t it? I’m not one for making long-term plans, but I’ll stick around as long as the adventure keeps calling. And who knows, maybe I’ll surprise you and become a permanent fixture in your little band of misfits. Stranger things have happened, right?”

Early next morning, Jenassa and I packed the loot we didn’t need and left home to sell the stuff in Whiterun.

Jon: “Oh, how wonderful! Jenassa and I on a stroll to town for a selling spree.”
Jenassa: “A productive morning, indeed. Let’s get this done quickly. I’ve no desire to linger in this weather longer than necessary.”
Jon: “I don’t know, Jenassa. After the blood spatters that got on us fighting those necromancers, I welcome fresh rain on my face.”
Jenassa: “To each their own, I suppose. I prefer to avoid unnecessary discomfort. But if it pleases you, then so be it.”
Jon: “Did you have fun yesterday, dealing with those necromancers?”
Jenassa: “Fun? It was work, necessary and well-done. The thrill of combat, the satisfaction of a job completed… these are close to what you might call fun. But don’t mistake it for mere amusement.”
Jon: “How do you feel about our team’s performance? We have gathered quite a bunch of people: Uthgerd the Unbroken, my dear vampire Alva, those two lovebirds, Ria the Companion…”
Jenassa: “We’re effective, efficient. Each member brings something valuable to the table. But remember, numbers alone don’t guarantee success. We need to remain vigilant, keep our skills sharp. Complacency is a slow poison.”

Adrianne at her store bought our weapons and armor. We intended to unload our random crap to that cranky bastard Belethor, but he hadn’t opened yet.

Jon: “Well, it must be about seven in the morning. Do you want to do something in Whiterun until Belethor opens his shop?”
Jenassa: “As you wish. We could use the time to gather information, perhaps there’s news of more trouble that needs dealing with. Or we could restock on supplies. The choice is yours.”

We checked out the missive board.

Jon: “Listen to this: a job about recovering a stolen heirloom from some bandits.”
Jenassa: “Sounds straightforward enough. We’ve dealt with bandits before. But don’t underestimate them. They can be more trouble than they seem. We should prepare accordingly.”
Jon: “Oh, Jen, check out this one: a job posted by Balgruuf the Greater. It says, ‘To all able-bodied men and women of Whiterun.’ That is us. ‘The animals located in Graywinter Watch have been attacking and killing citizens and visitors. A reward will be offered to anyone who kills them and clears the den.’ A little monster-hunting, apparently on the other side of the river that passes by our home.”
Jenassa: “That sounds like a task we could handle. It’s close to home and it’ll give us a chance to further prove our worth to the Jarl. Let’s take it. But remember, even animals can be dangerous when cornered. We’ll need to be careful.”
Jon: “I’m looking forward to fighting alongside you once more, Jenassa.”
Jenassa: “As am I. There’s a certain… comfort in knowing who stands beside you in battle. Let’s make this a successful hunt.”
Jon: “Did you truly, in the past, fight as a mercenary in groups without trusting your companions?”
Jenassa: “Trust is a luxury in this line of work. I’ve fought alongside many, but trusted few. It’s a lesson learned through bitter experience. But with this group… Let’s just say I’m not as watchful of my back as I used to be.”

Belethor gobbled up our unneeded crap.

Jon: “We have sold all we intended to sell today. We’ve amassed 860 septims, enough to last us for a little while, in case we didn’t take any jobs.”
Jenassa: “Surviving isn’t the same as living well. We need more than just the bare minimum. But you’re right, we’ve done what we can for today. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.”
Jon: “Do you want us to head home already?”
Jenassa: “Might as well. There’s always work to be done there. And maybe we can discuss our next move.”

As we were walking by the river, two slow mudcrabs attempted to make a meal out of us.

Jon: “I guess we’re eating roasted mudcrab today.”
Jenassa: “A simple meal, but a satisfying one. You’ve got some skill in hunting, I’ll give you that.”

As we were about to enter our small estate, I spotted a woman tending the fields at the neighboring farm. I hadn’t noticed before nor had a good look at their property; I guess that the weather had been that awful recently. I decided to greet our neighbor.

Jon: “Hey, sorry for approaching you in your farm without consent, but I realized that we never introduced ourselves. We’re your new neighbors, from the home across the road.”
Gwendolyn: “Oh, hello there. It’s nice to finally meet you properly. I’ve seen you around but never had the chance to talk. I hope you’re settling in well at Tundra Homestead. It’s a lovely place.”
Jenassa: “We’re managing. The house is functional, which is all that matters.”
Gwendolyn: “Well, if you need anything, just let me know. We farmers have to stick together out here.”
Jon: “Actually, although Tundra Homestead does come with a couple of farm plots, my group is a band of adventurers. We bought that home with the money we earned adventuring, doing harsh and dangerous work. Now we’re living a beautiful life here in the outskirts of Whiterun.”
Gwendolyn: “Adventurers, you say? That sounds exciting. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to explore beyond these fields.”
Jenassa: “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. There’s a lot of danger, a lot of close calls. But it’s the life we’ve chosen.”
Gwendolyn: “Well, I admire your bravery. It takes a certain kind of person to face the dangers out there.”

Jon: “How about you? What can you tell us about yourself?”
Gwendolyn: “Me? Oh, there’s not much to tell. I’ve lived in Whiterun all my life, working on this farm. It’s hard work, but it’s honest work. I find peace in the simplicity of it, you know?”
Jenassa: “Peace is a luxury. Not everyone can afford it.”
Gwendolyn: “That might be true, but it’s something I’m grateful for every day.”
Jon: “Well, it has been nice meeting you. From now on, if you want to talk, just come to our house. Some of us will probably be around.”
Gwendolyn: “That’s very kind of you, Jon. I might just take you up on that offer someday. It gets a bit lonely out here sometimes.”
Jenassa: “Just don’t expect a warm welcome from everyone. We’re not all as sociable as Jon here.”
Gwendolyn: “Don’t worry, I understand. I won’t overstay my welcome.”
Jon: “Don’t mind my companion here. She may not look it, but there’s a tender and loving heart underneath that sharpness of hers.”
Jenassa: “Don’t go spreading rumors, Jon. I have a reputation to maintain.”
Gwendolyn: “It’s okay. I understand. We all have our own ways of dealing with the world.”
Jenassa: “Hmph. Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have some gear to maintain.”

Post-lunch, I gathered everybody for one of our work meetings.

Jon: “We have a lead for some more money to earn: a job letter at the town’s missive board, about clearing out Graywinter Watch, just across the river from here. Apparently the animals located there have been attacking and killing visitors and citizens. This job came straight from the Jarl.”
Sapphire: “Official jobs mean official pay. I’m in.”
Jenassa: “It is promising. Let’s get this done.”
Ria: “Attacking and killing innocent people? That’s not right. We should put a stop to it.”
Zora Fair-Child: “Count me in. I’ve been itching for a good fight.”
Jon: “Well, I suppose that we could head there right now. How about some exercise to improve digestion?”
Fastred: “I’m ready when you all are. Let’s take care of this problem and make some coin while we’re at it.”
Uthgerd: “Exercise? You mean a good old-fashioned brawl. Sounds like my kind of job.”
Jenassa: “Standing around talking won’t get the job done. The sooner we leave, the sooner we get paid.”

• Previous part (32)
• Next part (34)

Mantella is an AI system that turns every single NPC in Skyrim (and Fallout 4) into AI agents driven by an LLM (like ChatGPT or the recently released, and comparable, Llama 3.1). In the previous part, the mighty Frostpeak Stalkers lazed about for a week in the small estate they bought with their adventuring money. The band’s members bonded further. When the week of fucking around ended, they were broke, so they decided to follow a rumor about some necromancers holed up at a place called Brittleshin Pass, that may grant the team good loot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I loved this one already.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• Previous part (31.5 – Jenassa’s journal)
• Next part (33)

Mantella is an AI system that turns every single NPC in Skyrim (and Fallout 4) into AI agents driven by an LLM (like ChatGPT or the recently released, and comparable, Llama 3.1). In the previous part, the mighty Frostpeak Stalkers obliterated every last bandit that had occupied a fort near Whiterun. Thanks to the generous reward that the adventurer’s band received from the jarl, as well as the sold loot, they bought a small estate east of town.

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

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

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

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

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

I stepped closer and caressed her lower lip.

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

I took Sapphire in my arms and kissed her.

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

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

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

Suddenly, I realized I had forgotten something.

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

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

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

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

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

Uthgerd seemed eager to take Fastred under her wing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

• Previous part (31.5 – Alva’s journal)
• Next part (32)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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