author's notes / summary: Hi folks! I've got another episode from the life of my female Dunmer character, Az-Mintoo Romalen, that I'd like to share with you. In this story, she isn't feeling so animal-friendly.
As always, I know that TES V: Skyrim belongs to Bethesda Software. Please read and review. But now, on with the story!
The disadvantages of unconventional hunting `methods
Az-Mintoo Romalen was on her way from the plains of Whiterun to Falkreath via Riverwood. Today, the weather was rather overcast. Rain was on the air. Az-Mintoo had a pretty aristocratic Dunmer face with a hairdo of horn-like twin buns. On her head she wore the aetherium crown, that she had gained in a pretty tiring quest. The rest of her body was protected by boiled leather armour.
Az-Mintoo was on her way to the point in the road that I dubbed "chirpy birds crossroads". But shortly before that, she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. A fully grown reindeer! Az-Mintoo hadn't eaten venison in ages. The reindeer was still peacefully grazing, unaware of its "spectator". Az-Mintoo wanted to unsling her bow from her shoulder but thought better of it. It would have taken too much time. The reindeer would have noticed her by then and fled.
But Az-Mintoo was dragonborn and that had to be good for something. She breathed in deeply and bellowed a mighty "FUS RO DAH". A blue-ish shockwave left her mouth and struck the reindeer unawares. The force behind the attack was so great that the reindeer was literally half-way rammed into the ground! The front half with the antlered head was burrowed in earthly earth. And the rear half stuck out into the air at an odd angle. Oh well, it was pretty dead after that. Dead as a doornail. But how to skin it? How to take the meat?
Az-Mintoo heaved and pulled but to no avail. In the end, she groaned: "Oh this is awkward. In fact, it's so embarrassing that I don't dare to borrow a shovel in Riverwood. A huge waste of good meat, but what's a girl to do? Hopefully nobody saw me." And she crossed the bridge into Riverwood whistling all the while, as if nothing unbecoming had happened.
But one guy had watched the whole scene with hawk eyes: Faendal the wood-elf. He lived in Riverwood, hunted and worked at the lumber-mill chopping firewood. But now, he shook his head sadly. He sighed: "Oh boy! And here I thought, Az-Mintoo had more sense than that. What a silly waste of meat. Talk about 'shooting Dwemer ballistas on sparrows'. I'll never understand how she outsmarted Sven the bard."
So next time Az-Mintoo asked Faendal to accompany her, she was flat-out refused. "Get going on your way sister elf. Today, I don't feel like working for idiots." he growled.
another author's notes: I altered a German saying here. The original version says "shooting canons on sparrows". Which describes a totally exaggerated way to deal with a small problem.