EVE-Online RP Discussion and Resources > Non-EVE Fiction

The Adventures of Vikarion the Red, vampire sorcerer in Skyrim.

(1/10) > >>

Vikarion:
I enjoyed my last play through so much that I'm going to do another. Before I start writing, however, here's a run-down of the idea.

Character concept:
A sorcerer, Elder-scrolls style, which is to say, a character skilled in heavy armor, conjuration, destruction, and enchanting. Two-handed-weapon will be an alternate after Destruction is maxed.

This will be a "completionist" character, trying to complete every questline in the game. To make it interesting, I'm going to embark on the "Dawnguard" questline immediately after completing the Companions questline, hopefully before level 20. This will ensure that my character plays the majority of the game as a Volkihar Vampire, increasing the difficulty, but providing an alternate viewpoint on your normal Dragon-Born Experience (tm).

This character will be Stormcloak-aligned, because I feel icky every time I try to justify siding with the Empire after they tried to execute my character. Also, no quest-lines will be terminated early - i.e., no killing off the Dark Brotherhood. As a result, this character may appear somewhat sociopathic at times, but hopefully I can characterize him well enough to give legitimate reasons for his actions.

This chronicle will also be somewhat more "literary" than the last (Vikarion the Blue), as in, I will take some liberties from the strict in-game events (i.e., this character might read more off of an Elder Scroll than he is strictly stated to). This is entirely for my own artistic freedom - on the whole, in-game events will be adhered to (i.e., if a character dies in-game, it might die slightly more artistically here, but it will still be dead).

A note: I name all of my characters in RPG's either "Vikarion", or "Vicariess", or some variation of those. This is why most, if not all, of my stories will have a character with this name. It's just a habit, established more than a decade ago.

Level bonuses will be (mostly) assigned as such:
1, 3, 6, and 9: Magicka.
2, 4, 5, 7, and 8: Health.
10: Stamina.

This repeats every ten levels.

In my personal opinion, health is the most important attribute, followed by magicka, with stamina a very distant third. It is quite possible to go through the entire game without ever increasing stamina on any character concept, while even a warrior-style play-through will have difficulty making it through without at least a little magicka for Restoration. For this character, designed to eventually make it through every questline, I feel that a H/M/S ration of 5:4:1 is optimal. Also, it contributes to verisimilitude, as any character using as many talents as this one should probably grow stronger in all three.

Vikarion:
Journal,
When I escaped from High Rock, I had thought that Skyrim would mean placing my troubles behind me. Instead, it nearly got me killed.

Of course, it was foolish to stand up to a noble, especially one with so many established cronies. Whether right is right doesn't matter when someone else has might. Turns out that that's not limited to High Rock, either.

I got picked up a bit after crossing the border, near Darkwater Crossing, in an Imperial cordon. Next thing I know, I'm bound, then on a wagon to Helgen to face the block. My head was literally seconds away from parting with my body when, apparently, the luckiest Breton in Skyrim turned out to be me. That's more than can be said for Helgen, of course, because the instrument of my salvation was the destruction of Helgen at the hands of a dragon. From my perspective, a more than fair trade, although I suspect that I am highly biased.

But to my point: apparently justice means even less than I thought it meant in the Empire. My execution was merely a matter of convenience to the Imperial Captain who decided my fate. Or thought she did, at any rate.

Fortunately, when I got loose, Ralof (one of the Stormcloaks) did as well. After a bit of dodging around the dragon through Helgen, we got away through an old escape tunnel in the cellar of the local fort. I had never thought of myself as a killer before, but to my own immense satisfaction, we encountered above-mentioned Imperial Captain along the way. Despite her initial commands for our deaths, she didn't face her own with much dignity. Heavy armor may protect someone from an axe or blade, but when heated to red hot by flames, Imperial Heavy Armor serves mostly as a roasting cage.

Aside from that, there was little effective opposition to stop Ralof and I from getting to Riverwood, where we met his sister, Gerdur. She was kind enough to offer me some gold and food to get me started, and asked me to bring word of the attack to Whiterun if I managed to make it there. I agreed.

I haven't made it there, yet, because I also took the opportunity of being in town to visit the local general store, where the owner was engaged with his sister in an argument over a stolen "Golden Dragon's Claw". Turns out that some thieves holed up at the local monument stole it, and I was offered a sizable reward for its return. Well, I thought that if I could survive my own execution, a dragon attack, and an Imperial garrison, I could fetch him his dragon claw.

I was right, although I hadn't figured on the local variety of undead: Draugr. It's hard to describe them, but they are ancient, mummified corpses that yet move with malevolent intellect, arising from coffins and alcoves alike with strange blue witch-lights for eyes, striking at you with the words of dead arcane tongues on their lips. I was glad to be out of there.

Actually, I stayed longer than I had to. I found the claw relatively easily, but my curiosity got the better of me and I kept exploring, until I found an ancient door that opened by the use of said claw, once the locks on the door were aligned with the symbols on the claw. These barrows may be ancient, but this one was at least well engineered.

On the other side of the door, I found a pedestal with a sarcophagus and some sort of writing on a curved wall. As I came close to the wall, it glowed blue, and I suddenly felt dizzy. I heard some sort of word, like "Fus"...and then I heard the lid of the sarcophagus fly off, and the armored form of a Draugr rose out of it.

He burned, eventually, but not before getting in a bruising hit to my ribs and arm, and not before I had to down two potions of magicka, damn it all. At any rate, he had some sort of strange stone on him, which I took, as well as an enchanted axe.

Both the golden claw and the axe got me a fair amount of gold in Riverwood, and after staying the night at the local inn (my second night, actually), I'm ready to set off for Whiterun. Let's hope today is less...exciting.

Vikarion:
Journal,
It wasn't less exciting. Apparently, I've been chosen as a Dragonborn.

Let me digress, just in case there are future readers of this journal that aren't me.

I arrived in Whiterun safe and sound, with only two incidents along the way. One was an encounter with some vigilants of Stendarr, who spent the better part of an hour lecturing me on the evils of Daedra, vampires, and werewolves. Gee, thanks. The other was when I came across some folks trying to defend a farm against a rogue giant. As it turns out, they were happy to have my help, and their leader, a woman named Aela, invited me to join her association, called "The companions". She said that I looked capable and they'd be happy to have me, "even if I was a mage".

I agreed to come by as soon as I delivered my message to the Jarl. Unfortunately, I didn't quite manage to keep this promise.

You see, I went to the Jarl, fully expecting just to tell him about Helgen. I managed that, after being threatened by his bodyguard a bit (she's named Irileth), only to be asked to go to Bleak Falls Barrow and retrieve a "Dragonstone" by the Jarl and his court wizard. What a coincidence, then, that I'd already been there and had it in my pack. I had planned to find a scholar who might want it, but from my perspective at the time, this seemed like a long-overdue stroke of luck.

And then Irileth and a guard rushed in, claiming that there was a dragon about to attack the outskirts of Whiterun. Now, I try to be reasonable, but I don't think it was entirely fair for the Jarl to press-gang me into helping them. But life isn't fair, and he did. Within an hour or so, after waiting for Irileth to gather her troops, I found myself outside a rather burned and broken watchtower, observing a dragon diving towards us.

I have to say, this fight was nearly as perilous as my own (attempted) execution. I can't say that we lost, but at least three or four of the guard died before we brought it down. Thank goodness for health and magicka potions. And when it (the dragon) did die, I felt encompassed by a rushing wind, and suddenly, the "word" I had seen in Bleak Falls Barrow came back to me, with meaning. Force.

Apparently, according to the guards, I am "Dovaah-kin", or "Dragonborn", which is to say, capable of using the ancient language of the dragons without study. Yay. Good for me.

As if that weren't enough, when I returned to Whiterun, the heavens thundered with "Dov-vah-keen!". The Jarl told me it was the Greybeards calling me to High Hrothgar.

Well, they can call all they want. I made a promise to visit The Companions. And I shall. I never asked to be dragon-born, and those who call me such can wait on my pleasure.

Vikarion:
Journal,

Well, I'm a member of the companions now, oddly enough. It turns out that it's a warrior hall of, essentially, mercenaries with honor. I don't think I would have made it in without Kodlak asking for it, as the other members aside from Aela seemed less than thrilled. Of the ones I've talked to, Vilkas was least comfortable, and started me out by having me run errands for him.

As that didn't phase me, apparently he decided on sterner measures, sending me off to confront a vampire in the moldering ruins south of Rorikstead. At least, I think it was Rorikstead. He (Vilkas) seemed a little surprised when I returned, apparently having assumed I wouldn't have the guts. Fortunately, I've been occasionally making trips to Windhelm, as the court mage there has an excellent grasp of Destruction magic, and it turns out that vampires have a vulnerability to fire. So do high elves, apparently: I met a group of Thalmor on the road to Rorikstead, and they accused me of being a "heretic" before attacking. After killing them, it seemed nothing but reasonable for me to release their prisoner. Oh, and I also met an old orc who wanted a "good death". It seemed the least I could do.

It occurs to me that I may have become somewhat more callous since nearly being executed, nearly dying in a dragon attack, and being assaulted by a few dozen bandits and growling undead. Just a tad, at least.

At any rate, killing the vampire apparently convinced Skjor, another of the companions, that I was worthwhile material. So he sent me off to "prove myself" by, you guessed it, raiding a Nordic Barrow, along with Farkas. Turns out that the barrow was infested by the Silver Hand, a werewolf hunting group. Also turns out that some of the companions are werewolves. Oh, and there were, of course, the standard helping of Draugr. I really don't understand people who make their homes in the upper levels of these tombs. You could wake up to find some ancient withered corpse with blue witch-light eyes standing over you with an ancient axe raised. Or, you know, not wake up at all.

Farkas is a bit of an idiot, but at least he was convinced of the utility of having me along by the end. Of course, I didn't do myself any favors by accidentally locking myself into a room from which he had to release me. Nonetheless, it went well enough. Any enemies I didn't catch at long range, Farkas took down with his sword, and he was perfectly willing to vouch for me when we returned.

Anyway, time for bed.

Vikarion:
Journal,
Well, that was...unpleasant. After doing a few more jobs for the companions (mostly run here and kill "that", whatever "that" is), I attracted the attention of Skjor. He brought me to the Underforge, and inducted me into the ranks of the Circle, which is the leadership of the companions. I wasn't exactly reluctant - after all, Farkas seemed to have it perfectly under control. However, when I turned, I had no choice, nor could I change back. I woke up, half-naked, in the woods, with Aela, who promptly press-ganged me into an attack on some Silver Hand who had killed Skjor - probably because he charged in there alone and without backup.

Well, to make a long story short, I've been chasing the Silver Hand around Skyrim for the last few days and weeks, at the request of Aela. Kodlak eventually got wind of it, and asked me if I would help him cure his lycanthropy. Apparently the entire process has a bit to do with magic, which is why he brought me on board.

Of course, this being the companions, the cure involves killing - in this case, I killed a few hagravens holed up in a cave who apparently got this whole "curse" started. We'll see where it goes from here.

Navigation

[0] Message Index

[#] Next page