[Story] Moving in, moving on

First that Then This.

I spent most of the day writing this, largely so I can get ahead of myself and work out a coherent back story, bed in a little. That way I still have a backlog should I not play for a few days.

Some Support images

Now on with the Show.

Our Protagonist is called Aleric, he's just got out of a 5 year stretch for Banditry, and another two years of semi indentured, servitude in the mines of Dawnstar. Leaving him with enough money to buy a house, in search of "home." Rather than piss it up a wall, which he is likely to do otherwise. He is not the most temperate of men.

I'm not going to post a mod list, as I'm going to be narrating a story, the images are there as people are bound to ask. I may throw up the odd image as we go forward if I think it's thematically useful.

Meanwhile, the stanza's you see below is how I'm writing, I may post one or more daily, they're the things I'm going to be writing/interpreting based on where the game itself goes, this is a non-Dragonborn playthrough, using LAL as a base, so, without further ado:

I gave the Jarl's steward the money today, the substantial part of the sweat of my brow for the last two years of my life as an almost free man, and the previous five as a prisoner. Mining is honest work, and I'm glad to be done with it.

As such I am now the owner of a prime bit of real estate by the name of Breezehome in Whiterun, having called in a favour to get my foot in the door. Some things never change.

It comes mostly furnished, from one previous owner by the looks. It has an alchemy lab, and a curiously empty space on the first floor, presumably they took whatever it was with them. However, for now, and for the first time since childhood, this is "home" I can drink to that.

[...]

I've been here for a week so far, and at this rate I'll be flat broke in a month, it's a prosperous busting place, I'll say that for it, two taverns for a start. The one just across from the house, is called the "Drunken Huntsmen" run by a couple of Elf brothers, They sell mead, food and hunting supplies. it's a curious fit, given that the only other thing I was ever good at is archery. That and there are no mines nearby, save for the small bandit fort out on the plain. I left that life seven years ago, I'm never going back.

So for want of a better plan I may have to pick up a bow again. They really weren't joking about the plains being alive with game. I'll give it a week or so, see what I can make with it. I have things to do and debts, old and new, to repay in Dawnstar, but not alone, not like this. It would also appear that the "civil war" is about to step up a notch, now that the empire has themselves a new general. bad for business, good for prices, and the uncertainty is always profitable, provided you have an angle. I have yet to find one.

[...]

Too much city living will make you soft, not something that can be said of Dawnstar, but sitting safe behind guarded walls is just another form of cage. As such getting out into the wild, is something of a liberation, I'm out of touch, rusty as hell, and wet most of the time, seriously, what is it with the rain? But out here you can at least see them coming, hopefully before they see you. Wolves are easy and straight forward, they just run at you, an easy enough shot. Deer and Elk however, they are prey worthy of the name. Easily spooked, forever on the move. A bad hunter chases, a good hunter waits.

Bagged my first Stag today, a sloppy reaction shot, but I winged it, and then tracked it for seemingly ages while it bled out and fell over. Got a free wolf into the bargain. I guess they're used to being out here on their own, and we're just another predator to them. They'll learn. Took me bloody ages, to skin, harvest and butcher the Stag, so I need a better knife at the very least.Still, if nothing else I won't starve, and you come across the occasional lootable corpse of somebody stupid enough to try to hike across the open countryside unprepared. Small mercies.

[...]

it's been a good couple of days so far, bagged a couple of wolves, and two/three elk. I'm getting better at sneaking & harvesting it seems. Though Elk's still take me by surprise too often, I'll have to be ready so as not to lose the shot. I also came across a couple of Falkreath Militia that we're dead by the side of the road near the Western Watchtower late evening. So I took their gear. Dragged the corpses off the road into the long grass.

Later a fight broke out by Whiterun stables as I approached, a cry went out, and three Imperials died, a Captain, presumed, in full plate, an archer, and a soldier. Looked like magic, no idea why. So I waited for the fuss to die down and people to disperse, then looted them for gear too. It strikes me that stripping the dead for loot is a lot more profitable than doing the same to an animal carcass.

[...]

You can make money from this, slow painstaking, and it must be said fairly lonely too. It is a way of life, but not one I'm particularly interested in, I've never been one to commune with nature, not when I could be out drinking anyway. That and I nearly got jumped by bandits of all things, they were looking for me, I just didn't want to be found. I'm going to need a plan.

There is money here, you can feel it, hanging around the Wind District, at least when the weather is good, besides the "sleeping" tree, and the nut job preacher, there are many comings and goings. One thing that surprised me, though it seems to pass unremarked here, is the girl in the Forsworn outfit. Cute enough, if a little spaced out. For a laugh I asked her one time what she was selling? She looked me up and down, then offered me a range of "substances" though given the damage she's suffered, I thought it best to say no. Still, if she's doing distribution, there must be a supplier somewhere. So it was I stuck my head into the Whiterun's other inn the Bannered Mare, and thereby hangs a tale.

[...]

Part two is here