-Here we go, a lovely library with a lovely curator. Wait a second, the curator isn’t lovely at all! He’s an orc!
-Urag Gro-Shub! I’ve heard a rumor you might be able to help me track down some rares texts. Any chance you have Hawkeye #1? Ha! Totally kidding! Just... uh... a bit of book humor there... Right, not the joking sort I see. I’ll just take any books you have about the Elder Scrolls then.
-Orc names just roll off the tongue don’t they Punchy?
-Let’s see what we have here, “Elder Scrolls for Dummies” and “Elder Scrolls and You: The Handbook”, this looks promising.
-*Flipping through the pages, scanning for relevant information* Huh, what’s this? “The acorn is a kind of tree egg.” I mean, technically that is a correct statement but it’s worded in the most insane way possible.
-Hey, Urag. What can you tell me the author of this rambling bit of madness?
-Crazy old guy that wandered off into vast, frozen and horrible wilderness eh? Oh well, hopefully his corpse has some useful information on it.
-Next stop... the vast, frozen and horrible wilderness.
-*Yelling over the storm* He’s on an island?! What the hell! How did a hundred year old man, in this weather, at this time of year, ALONE, get to a frozen island in the middle of an almost frozen lake?!
-*Sigh* I should buy a boat.
-Well, according to my map the frozen corpse of Septimus Signus should be somewhere on this island. Alright, Punchy, let’s put on our corpse handling gloves!
-I’ll just open this hatchway, jump down and rummage through the belongings of a dead and frozen wizard... what does it say about me that this kind of activity seems normal?
-Ok, the body should be right aroooOOWWAAAHHH!!! YOU’RE ALIVE?! HOW!?! It’s a billion below absolute zero out there and all you’re wearing is a robe and your insanity!
-Septimus, please, I’m begging you.... PLEASE make the transfer of information from your brain to mine easy?
-”The ice entombs the heart...” Ok, that’s a bit poetic, but I’ll allow it... “the BAIN of Kankernak and Dago fur!”
-*Eyes wide, staring in disbelief at Septimus.* Well that settles it, out of all the crazy old men I have met, you sir, are their king.
-I’m afraid to ask, but any chance you know where the Elder Scrolls are?
-”Here..”, REALLY?! “Here in this plane....”, I don’t like you.
-”Nearby! Relatively speaking! HAHAHAHA! On the cosmological scale IT’S all nearby....” Listen buddy, I’m starting to reconsider the original plan of finding the information I need on your corpse.
-Have I heard of Blackreach? Can’t say that I have, but this is the first thing you’ve said so far that I might have a CHANCE at understanding.
-Jeez, everything you say needs to be translated from crazy-old-man-gibberish to English, but it sounds like I need to head to Alftland, go all the way to the basement then... then use a cube and a ball to do things? With a sphere do-hickey?
-Ok, I’m going to get out of here before you start making sense.
-Well how bad can this be right, Punchy? Just go down a few steps, unlock an ancient machine and find an even older scroll of paper that was hidden away by a now extinct race of super geniuses thousands of years ago! See, easy!
-Did you just roll your eyes at me?
 |
| The horses we will use to travel "nearby". |
No comments:
Post a Comment