The lights are on
Veteran Member - Level 13
A cave lay in a snowy hillside, a warm glow emanating from its jagged depths. A Nord of immense strength stretches with a groan as he wakes up from a fruitless night of sleep, and looks over the harsh frozen terrain of Skyrim, stroking his magnificent moustache. This man's name was Le'Hannibal, known in the land by many other titles. Dragonborn. Thane of Winterhold. Arch-Mage. Whatever he went by, at this moment he was suddenly wracked with pain in his moment of false security, as an arrow came whistling out of a grove of evergreens directly into his knee. With a shouted curse, he collapses to the ground. As the pain abates, he swears an oath, to find the villain responsible and bring him to justice.
Journeying down the path from his cave, he enters the Hold housing the great city of Solitude, garrison and main presence for the Empire in Skyrim. As you all know they are currently locked in a bitter rivalry with the Stormcloaks. This will be important later. Anyways, a youngling Khajiit by the name of Sora Three Ben offered him a chance to purchase dragon scales. Le'Hannibal politely refused, but as the Khajiit left he feigned slipping, cutting the purse of the mighty Nord and fading away in the crowd before he had the chance to shout.
After two days of sleeping under the stars, the rumbling in Le'Hannibal's stomach became too insistent to ignore. Guiltily, he looks both ways before surreptiously stuffing several sweetrolls into his travel bag while the shopkeeper's attentions are occupied elsewhere. He figures there will be information in the palace, so he sets off to the road leading there.
His tottering pace from having his kneecap shatter ends up causing him to need a break. He steps into a grove of bushes off to the side of the road to sit on a bench and rest his battered extremity. A Stranger walks out from behind him and says "Got a lot of rare goods for sale here. " Nervously, Le'Hannibal knows what he needs. "I would like information leading me to my assailant." The Stranger tells him to take a hip bone he gives Le'Hannibal to the Pelagius Wing in the palace and that there will be someone to help him there. He offers this for free and disappears in a rush leaving Le'Hannibal unnerved.
Le'Hannibal enters the keep and holds the hip bone, unsure as to what to do next. All of a sudden a flash of light blinds him, an when he sees again he is in another dimension occupied by a table and the Daedric Prince Of Madness, who currently goes by the name of TFG. "Sit here, or I shall make cheese out of your eyes!" "Umm, a Stranger sent me here? He told me you could tell me who attacked me?" "Certainly, certainly. You must go back to Solitude, and go to the south park inside there, slip inside the well, and battle hordes of mad men that have escaped my realm! And as you're breaking bad people's skulls apart, you need to shout out that you're ready for adventure time, which unlocks the way deeper in! After all this you need to fight your way through the walking dead and make it to a hole in the floor and crawl inside. That's where he's hiding, that one. Now, begone! Or I'll pluck out your eyes!" Another flash of light happens and Le'Hannibal is returned to Solitude rather roughly.
Le'Hannibal follows the orders, and ends up in a dungeon room flickering with the sickly glow of candlelight. Sitting on the bed, testing his bowstring, is a mighty Orc known as Jolt. "I know you!" Le'Hannibal exclaimed. "You were the general for the Imperials in the battle against the Stormcloak army I led!" Sourly, Jolt turns towards him, and speaks with a strange accent. "Do you think, after all these years, I could forget what you did? When I've spent a half life with the scars from that war still fresh in my memory? As my mon were slewn and the wives in the kingdom hearts were broken? We had something bigger than both of us and you threw it all away. When you go and poke mon, expect them to poke back!" Spitting, he then turns his yellowed eye back on the candlelight. "Yes, yes, but you got suffering. No longer will you be able to adventure, not with the pain of that arrow still fresh in your knee. And furthermore, it was laced with Hist sap imported from the Black Marsh. I have taken a much larger dose and will not live to survive the hour. You however will suffer from delusions before your broken body returns to an illusion of normalcy. You wear no halo around your head, so there will not be the powers of a Saint to protect you" Already, the hallucinations were starting, and with a satisfied smirk, Jolt passed from the world, an embittered warrior, as the screams of Le'Hannibal shouting about an unseen mammal he imagining screeching over his head, yelling about "THE BAT, MAN! GET IT AWAY! FUS RO DAH!" But his rival was gone, and no longer would he torment the great peoples of Skyrim with another battle. And so this journey comes to an end.
(This is my entry into EuphoricEnnui's new blogging series. And yes, it is painfully cheesy.)