Skyrim Ate My Life

I made the mistake of loading up Skyrim again, and of course it ate my life. I rolled a Dunmer female, and she is turning out to be a roguish mag user. She doesn’t care about the Stormcloaks or the Empire, and has thus far resisted their attempts to recruit her.

This is what my character looks like. Yes, she is the Archmage of the College of Winterhold; no, she did not steal the Archmage’s robes (I figured I should clarify, since she is both a sneak and a mage, so either case seems likely).

She has married Revyn Sadri, the Dunmer shopkeep in the Gray Quarter. She used to go adventuring with Vorstag all the time, but the two of them kept getting weird looks every time they went into to New Gnisis Cornerclub for drinks, so now she goes adventuring with the Dunmer named Erandur. You know, the guy who used to worship Vaermina but now worships Mara and begs to be forgiven for his past worship of an evil Daedra.

My character felt bad for Revyn having to spend all his time in the slums, so she moved him into Breezehome in Whiterun. Unfortunately, he became extremely depressed in Whiterun. Where Revyn had a lovely social life in Windhelm, going to visit his friends at the Cornerclub every night as he ate his dinner, in Whiterun he just sat inside all day long moping.

Revyn Sadri being his usual grumpy self.
Revyn Sadri being his usual grumpy self (actually, this is what he calls his “happy face”)

He refused to even try to explore Whiterun! My character tried to explain to Revyn that he was a nobleman in Whiterun, being married to the Thane and all, and she pointed out that the Jarl’s housecarl was another high-ranking Dunmer like them, but nothing would cheer him up. He missed his friends and family in Windhelm. Revyn’s deepening depression made the my character depressed, so they moved back into the Gray Quarter in Windhelm and he cheered straight back up. That is where they live to this day. Basically, my character owns a bunch of nice houses that her husband refuses to live in because his heart is in the Gray Quarter slums.

Oh, and my character hates Markarth. HATES Markarth. Especially that guy who never shuts up about that house.

“Excuse me, but do you know anything about this house? Seen anybody enter or leave? I have reason to suspect this house has been used for Daedra worship.”

“For the thousandth time, I don’t give a shit about this house, and I don’t give a shit about Daedra worship. Just. Stop. Taking. To. Me.”

“Excuse me, but do you know anything about this house?”


Farmer Steen

On Monday, I learned more about farming than I ever really wanted to. Except not modern farming. This was like… Medieval farming. We had to plant 15,000 seeds by hand, and since I did not want to injure my back, I ended up doing squats more or less continuously for about 12 hours. My thighs were in agony for a week afterwards.