13.8.201
Waterfront never stops surprising me. While I was sleeping last night someone broke into my hut and stole my goddamn curtains. I found out by waking up to being blinded by the sun. Don't know what else he had hoped to achieve by stealing that ragged piece of cloth. At least I had drunk all of my booze before he could steal it. Pissed off. Head felt like an Orc was trying to smash a dwemer robot with a kettle inside my skull. Decided to see if our moonshine at Hainab's was still there. My heart jumped to my throat when I found him weeping, but I calmed down when I saw the jugs in the corner and the one in his hands. I started drinking too. I asked why all of the booze was out and he wailed that he was going to drink himself to death, because the love of his life had left him. I couldn't remember her name so I asked him, and he stopped crying for a second and looked like he was trying to think. Judging from his expression he didn't do well, but carried on weeping anyway.
…..
Drunk. Asked Hainab why he was crying over a dockside whore. He suddenly stood up and demanded that I would take it back, so I knocked him out. I found Hainab to be even more tiresome when he was unconscious, so I went to the Drowning Fish. Whoever named that place is a genius. There, a male Khajiit sailor kept staring at me and purring. I understand that sailors aren't picky about love when they're out sailing and don't see any women for months. The only whore left in Waterfront had just dumped Hainab and left. Situation getting very uncomfortable. Would've punched his lights out if he wasn't two heads taller than me. Went out to take a leak. When I came back he was gone. My eyes are also plaiying tricks on me. I could swear my wine had changed its colour a bit. Poured it down anyway.
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No recollection.
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No recollection.
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No recollection.
17.8.201.
Woke up on the floor of a moving cart. Could've done with just hurting everywhere and feeling like someone forced a dozen slugs down my throat, but I was also tied up and cold. Surrounded by men in ragged clothes and armour, all of them tied up and looking like their puppy had just died and daddy used the corpse to beat up mummy. Tried to ask where I was, but that attempt ended up in a fit of coughing and gagging. Thought I was going to die until I threw up a hairball and could breathe again. One of the men noticed I was awake and started talking something about Imperials and borders. I asked him if cats carried STDs and he started talking to another prisoner instead. The cart arrived to a town and the Nord started ranting about elves. I would've taken offence but I was too confused. I was in Skyrim, apparently, and a prisoner of the Imperials. Decided I wouldn't drink ever again. Or at least try to avoid being drugged by suspicious Khajiit.
The imperials had no idea why I was there, but were going to execute me anyway just because they caught me with the others. I got covered instantly in cold sweat and my heart was about to beat its way out of my heart. Never been so scared and confused in my life, or so I thought until a horrible huge spiky winged monster showed up out of nowhere and started murdering everything. It looked like a Cliff Racer the size of a house that was full of spikes. Shat my pants and ran. I hid inside an outhouse as well as I could. Good thing I'm skinny.
...
Too scared to come out.
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I crawled out early in the morning to find the town now a smoking ruin. Strangely enough the outhouse wasn't even slightly charred. Good thing, that. Being boiled alive in feces doesn't seem like a glamorous way to go. Was that thing a dragon? The only dragon I ever saw was in the Imperial City's temple, and that one was made of stone. I got Hainab thrown in the dungeons for a week after I convinced him to take a piss on its leg. Don't think I had ever laughed so hard.
...
Wandered around the ruins in search of drink. Maybe a bit of food as well. Walked into the ruins of what looked like a tavern. Surprised this rough looking orc in furs going through the rubble. I guess he didn't think anyone to be there because when I said hello he let out the sound I least expected from an orc: a high pitched squeak. He turned around with an axe in his hand. I was about to decide that I should run back in my outhouse when his face turned from green to gray, and he ran out through a hole in the wall. Must've been my smell. I guess Mr. Fancy Pants had never visited Waterfront.
...
Cleared a bit of rubble and found an entrance to the cellar. When I saw all the furs, the bottles and the food, I would've knelt down and thanked my ancestors if they weren't such intolerable twats. Ever been nagged about the dangers of drink by the spirit of a person who drank herself to death? Grams even cursed me with two days of the shits to make a point. Idiot. Easy for her to say when she's got no option but to stay sober. Time to drink. What's up with the berries?
...
The mead is tasty. It took me four bottles to figure it out, but it's tasty. Judging from the way my legs and feet appear to be misbehaving, it's a tad stronger than the piss they call wine at the Drowning Fish, too. I guess the pork was alright too. I would be pretty content if I didn't smell like shit. I think I will search for a fireplace, heat some water and wash myself. Maybe. At some point. I'm still thirsty, fortunately there's more mead than I can be bothered to count!
...
Well Skyrim is fucking cold but some the smoking ruins are still warm! I am going to find that dragon and kiss it and ask him if he knew any hot dragonettes to keep me company. I did some pillaging in the ruins and I do not care about my smell anymore, and I found a lot of potions in the basement of some ruins. They're brightly coloured and purdy. I don't think I shold have a taste. I found a panicked Argonian in my hut once in Waterfront. He hissed something about slavers and murderers. I don't like trespassers so I knocked him out and I tried some of the green potion I found in his pocket. I woke up in the drunk cell of the imperial prison the next day. Talked to a guard and he had found me half naked in the bushes behind the arena, with a rope around my ankle that was tied to big rock. Apparently I had been certain that I was a balloon and the rock was to keep me from floating off. I'd better stick to mead.
...
I didn't stick to mead. The purple stuff tasted bad, so I mixed it with the red stuff and the green stuff, and some mead. I feel funny.
So lonely.
19.8.201
Worst day so far.
Woke up in the basement with a huge spider on my chest, staring at me with its eyes. I slapped it off, stood up and started throwing everything I could at it. A kettle, empty mead bottles, empty potion bottles, rocks, whatever I could get my hands on. While screaming the whole time. Being from Morrowind means I'm used to most giant insects, but spiders make my skin crawl. I really, really hate them. After I had killed it, or at least buried it in junk, I realized I wasn't alone. The staircase was filled with armed men and elves in furs, at least 5 of them. All of them laughing uncontrollably, except the Orc I had spooked earlier. I should've known he had friends nearby. I Almost started throwing stuff at them as well, but then I figured I preferred being laughed at over being filled with arrows, so I just stood there and waited.
After a while a big Nord stopped laughing, grabbed a rope and lassoed me! I fell on my arse with the rope tightly around my ankles, and they started dragging me up. I swore revenge and called the wrath of my ancestors on them while my head was banging against the stairs, but it resulted in them just laughing at me some more. I guess they were familiar with my ancestors. They dragged me outside, where there were some buckets of water and a fire going with a huge cast iron pot over it that was filled with boiling hot water. The bandits let me stand up and formed a circle around me. They aimed at me with all sorts of ranged weaponry and told me to strip naked and toss my clothes into the fire. I did so while demanding compensation for my precious clothes, although I'm not sure why. I had seen more fashionable rags that smelled better on a zombie. The Nord leader told me to shut up and tossed a scrub brush at my feet. He said I had two options: to die there and then, or to wash up and join their merry bunch. The bunch looked more murderous than merry to me, but I wasn't into the idea of dying, so I started scrubbing.
While I was scraping the filth off my skin, he explained that his bunch was an infamous group of outlaws called "the Free Brothers." I said that a pair of inbred ogres could come up with a more imaginative name, to which he replied by whacking me in the head with the shaft of his spear and threatening to castrate me with a hammer if I kept that up. I shut up and he continued talking about the Free Brothers. They were a small group of bandits who were led by him, Olofson. They exploited the chaos caused by the civil war, and now dragons, to loot and plunder. I wasn't even aware there was a civil war going on in Skyrim. Then again, I found out about the great war when the Aldmeri Dominion sacked the Imperial City. Good times. I helped them by sacking the distillery.
Olofson explained that lately he had developed a knack for raiding ancient Nordic tombs. Because of that he needed a man who wasn't afraid of the dead and would do things others wouldn't even think of, which was his reason to why I was still breathing. I asked why he thought I was that man. He told me how the Free Brothers had surrounded the ruined town and observed me after the Orc had ran back to them, scared to death and rambling about ghosts and the horrible stench of death and shit. Apparently at some point last night I had appeared outside with my eyes wider than two plates and started dragging charred corpses inside a relatively intact house while mumbling again and again that I was the orgasmatron. I don't remember any of that, and I'm not sure what I had been up to, but I decided to scrub my privates well, despite the audience.
...
After I was done washing, they tossed me some clothes, a pair of boots and a fur vest. One of them asked if I wanted a hairbrush, and they all laughed again. My hair had fallen off when I started drinking, or maybe I started drinking because it fell off? Anyway, that was 30 years ago so I didn't really care. I just wished I had more to drink. I asked about the mead and they told me I'd had enough and it was time to move. I don't recall when I'd been this miserable. Probably when the Imperials wanted to execute me for nothing.
...
Walking, walking, walking and some more walking. Snuck around a village called Riverwood. Then walked some more. My feet hurt like hell and I could've killed twice for a drink. They probably guessed that because they won't give me a weapon. Walked up a mountain and past a tower. Arrived at a huge temple made of stone on the side of the mountain, where the rest of the Free Brothers were waiting. They had set up a camp inside the temple's entrance. Olofson said something about me being on catacombs duty first thing in the morning because I had to prove myself. Don't care. Walked in, curled up next to a fire and passed out immediately.