Return to Skyrim, Day 3: Stealing a Horse and other Shameful Acts

-Louis Letrush, behold I bring you your horse! Let me assure you any “cooked horse” smell you may be noticing was caused by an unexpect Flame atronach attack... what I’m saying is, we weren’t trying to eat your horse.

-Is it weird that I pointed out we didn’t try to eat your horse? Does that make us seem more guilty or less? Wait, I’m guessing these follow-up questions are not helping either.

-So long Louis, happy trails to you! Enjoy your completely uncooked horse and... *sigh*, that man is just never going to trust me again is he?

-Should I return to Riften or should I really shake the rust off and go poke at a dragon?

-Sometimes I ask myself some really stupid questions.

-*One mountain climb later*

-I’VE MADE A TERRIBLE MISTAKE!

-Listen! If everyone could stop getting thrown into the air by this Ancient Dragon I’m sure we could come up with a feasible plan!

-Meeko! What did I just say?! Get out of the sky and extinguish yourself right now!

-I don’t remember these fights being so difficult. Wait, I must be doing something different, something painfully and obviously wrong... *looks around*

-A HA! I’m standing on a mountainside and not an open field! That’s not very bright of me... I’m also on a narrow mountain path... with no way to avoid the living nightmare that just landed in front of me...

-No choice! have to jump and hope for the best!

-SEE YOU IN HELL GRAVITY! *Crunch* Oh god! MY LIMBS!

-Oh, healing potions, where would I be without your bone mending abilities?

-I suppose the obvious answer is, “in a special care facility,” but that was more of a rhetorical question.

-Listen buddy, the not so good folks of Riften need you dead and I need to make Riften a better place and all I know is violence, and that is how I’m going to fix things. So how about we just get on the same page here and let me kill you?

-This dragon is just soaking up arrows as if they were snowballs. Time to dip into the “special reserve poisons” portion of my backpack.

-46 points of poison damage? Well, don’t mind if I do.

-*thwomp* There, I KNOW you felt that one! Perfect, retreat to your flat mountain top home!

-Behold! The terrain is now to my advantage! Watch as my dogs run wild and free.... and gnaw your legs like rabid beavers attacking a tree.

-It’s been fun, but I have a city to save, time to bring this dance to an end *thwomp*.

-OoooooOOOOOooooohhh, I’d forgotten how pretty the “dragon soul” light show is!

-Quick headcount, let’s see, one badass Nord and two homicidal dogs, yep, looks like we all made it.

-Well, with that out of the way, let’s check the quest journal for other Riften based quests... Ah, find the old man living in the sewers... how disgusting, can I just leave him there instead?

Further proof that Punchy is the real hero here, I'm really just ranged support.

Return to Skyrim, Day 2: Bad Dog

-So, Ms. Jarl of Riften, you say one of the Black-Briars is in prison for murder? How does a Black-Briar wind up in prison in this neck of the woods? Don’t they run this town? Geez, he must have eaten the guy in broad daylight or something. Whatever, I’m going to go pay him a visit and try to gather some family secrets.

-What kind of clearance do I have, you ask mister Jailor? Well, just look at this face, can you not tell how trustworthy and handsome I am? You should totally let me into your prison for a visit.

-Who can say no to this face? No one, that's who!

-Sibbi Black-Briar, a magical combination of arrogance, entitlement and foolishness. If you were an animal you would have been eaten as a pup.

-You murdered your beloved’s brother in broad daylight AND stole a horse AND want your beloved’s head as a gift.... I don’t even know where to start in terms of how wrong all those words are.

-Sure, I’ll find her for you, just tell me where I can find that horse on your family's property, I might also need to know where your family lives, but that’s just a minor detail you should not worry about..

-Allow me to add “gullible” to the list of things that make you a special little snowflake, Sibbi.

-Alright team, we got what we need. Let’s swing by the inn on our way out and... where is Meeko? Did we forget him in the prison?

-Hello Jailor, yes it’s me again, the really handsome devil, anyway did you happen to see a dog around here? I came in with two and left with one, odds are he is around here someplace....

-YOU’RE IN A PRISON CELL, MEEKO?! WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?!  Also, as a dog what crime are you capable of?! Did you fall into the wrong crowd while I was gone? HAVE YOU NEVER SEEN AN AFTER SCHOOL SPECIAL?!

-I... I just don’t know what to say. I guess I have to spring my dog out of prison? Is this what I came back to Skyrim for? TO BREAK A DOG OUT OF HUMAN PRISON?!

-Fine, mission “dog prison break” was a smashing success. Let’s go see where the Black-Brairs call home, that is IF MY DOGS STOP COMMITTING FELONIES! Jerks.

-Either the Black-Brairs have the most heavily armed gardeners I have ever seen or these jokers have something to hide.

-Mercenaries, the place is crawling with them. Maybe I’m old fashioned, but the good guys don’t hire goons like these.

-Excuse me, Ms. Heavily armed goon? Do you mean to tell me that I’ve gotten close enough to you and the compound? You know, I was just thinking the same thing. *thwomp*, yep! I can totally arrow you in the face from this range. Thanks!

-I’m sorry, were you planning on helping your fellow goon? Good luck with that, I’ve told my puppies here that you have some dog treats in your pockets, also, that you are hiding an entire chicken in your neck.

-Right, we’ve taken care of the exterior goons, but I’m going to wager this place has its fair share of interior goons as well. Let’s see what these folks are doing to keep busy.

-Nothing says "Champion of Justice" quite like sneaking into a house and *thwomp* murdering a mercenary while he quietly eats an apple.

-*The clatter of silverware brings three more mercenaries charging into the room, the first has his momentum broken by Meeko and Snuggleface, the second is instantly paralyzed by one swing of Punchy’s enchanted axe. Both mercenaries are dead before the third can fully enter the room, he calls for mercy but the dogs don’t take commands from anyone but me... and I don’t take commands from him.*

-All this murdering will surely make Riften a safer place, right? Maybe I’m going about this all wrong... maybe I need to murder MORE people. Yep, that sounds right.

-But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, time to commit a lesser crime and steal this horse and bring it back to its rightful owner.

-Fixing Riften, one felony at a time.

Meeko: The reason we can't have nice things.

Return to Skyrim, Day 1: Reports of Demise and Other Overreactions

-Can I do this? It’s been like, six months since I’ve picked up the bow and tried to save Skyrim. It’s just been so long. If only I had some guidance, a role model to follow in my time of need....

-What would Punchy do?

-LOAD ALL THE SAVE FILES! Wait! Load the most recent save file, that makes way more sense.

-WHAT DO ALL THESE BUTTONS DO!?! How do I... anything?

-PUNCHY! I’VE MISSED YOU SO MUCH YOU MARVELOUS DRUNK! I can’t hug you so I’ll just jump at you to show my unbridled joy!

-Snuggleface and Meeko! I don’t suppose either of you remember how to equip a bow, right?

-Okay, I use to have this down to a science, what I need is human target practice to shake the rust off.

-How is it possible that I’m more than a hundred yards from a bandit? Has this ever happened before? Has Skyrim’s mind blowing bandit problem solved itself in my absence?

-Wait, no, Forsworn camp twenty feet from here. Phew, was afraid I had completely lost touch with this society.

-Here we go, let’s make this first shot count. Arrow back, aim for the skull and *thwomp*... 

-*clank*

-Right, can’t be expected to get the rust off quite so fast. This time I will factor in arrow drop and …. *thwomp*

-*clank*

-*sigh* Right! Thankfully this Forsworn is deaf... or already dead. Nope, he just went to go check out that rapidly growing pile of arrows. Let’s try this again...

-*THREE ARROWS LATER*

-*clank* OH SCREW THIS! You! Yeah you! Come over here! I need to bludgeon you to death, apparently.

-There! What I lack in depth perception I make up for in vicious beatings.

-Screams, rapid footsteps... I may be rusty but I know what those sounds mean. Company.

-*Thwomp* Right in the eye! Oh I know you can’t share my joy Mr.Forsworn on account of the massive internal bleeding, but let me assure you, the way I spun around and planted that arrow directly into your brain signaled my glorious return.

-My hit rate might be below twenty percent but my witty rejoinder rate is still a sturdy one hundred percent.

20-Nothing like stealing the boots off a dead man to bring back fond memories, eh Punchy?

-Well, our bags are now filled with the helmets and boots of various slow footed thieves. Now that the Forlorn know we are back let’s check in with our local den of villainy. Riften.

-Dear simple villagers, I don’t mean to cause a distraction but everyone stop and stare at the wonder of nature that is I, Dragonface!

-I never felt right leaving this town is such disarray. All this grief seems to be caused by one family, the Black-Briars.

-Let’s knock on a few doors, ask a few question, snarl, bark and cause a general ruckus. I want the Black-Briars to know there is a new sheriff in town and he can’t be bought... also that the new sheriff is a sharp dresser and way beyond handsome.

-And modest, that too.

Please cue the dramatic music.