I failed to mention that my game of Skyrim starring Gunter the Orc came to a successful conclusion just before the end of last year. Once I decided that Gunter had better go fulfill his destiny as Dragonborn, it still took about three days to wrap everything up and see it through to the end. People may complain about the ending or lack thereof, but being able to say that you finished the game is a tangible treasure that most games don’t provide with nearly as much gravity.
And now I’m sucked back in, Mara help me.
While Gunter Oniyama tried to play the good guy, my new character, a dark elf named Jacqwhortz McGlockenspiel, is dipping into all kinds of professions and storylines that Gunter would never consider touching. It completely changes the game, and the difference is as great as that between Fallout 3 and Fallout New Vegas. Or Super Mario Bros. 1 and 2, if you’re not up on things like this.
One thing about playing a game after having finished it once is that I don’t feel the least bit bad about cheating, looking shit up on the wiki, or spamming little tricks in the game that artificially raise your stats or station. I did it the hard, honest way once – now I’m entertaining myself. Let’s just say I left the first dungeon with 70 levels of the Sneak ability and decided to become the baddest ass thief you ever saw. I love stealing shit and burglarizing houses. I imagine what the owners’ reactions will be the next morning when they wake up and find a single room mysteriously missing every object. Thieves Guild calling, bitch; you’ve just been McGlockenspieled.
Blah blah Skyrim blah fuckity blah. I can’t help it. It’s such an impressive, and god damn it perfect game. I will temper my blatherings with only that which makes my particular adventure the epic experience you all wish you had and probably faked.
In fact, I think I’ll just keep this one for myself to storify all the wonderful shit that happens in this game without the pressure of making anyone else stomach it. (edit: that didn’t last long)
I love my fucking horse. I was just photographing my screen for a lovely head-on shot of him when a dragon attacked Riften. I think I even caught the dragon in the shot, I’ll have to check. The next thing we knew, we were balls-deep in battle with a Blood Dragon. I’d only destroyed the dragon in Whiterun, but it was long overdue to slay another, both for the experience and the carcass parts that would fetch me over 1000 gold at any fence.
Frost, that crazy horse attacked the dragon, and the dragon struck back. I was sure he’d bite it on the second landing, but somehow I managed to mace the fucker down as he slashed and burned my loyal steed. I can’t tell you how glad I am that the horse survived. I lost the same horse on my previous playthrough and it really pissed me off.
We fast traveled to Whiterun where I hired a carriage to Markarth to pull two jobs for the guild. One was a specific item needing burgled, and the other was general chaos. I could probably accomplish both in the same swipe, but I was looking forward to raiding the apothecary, too. As soon as I entered, fucking drama. Forsworn in the street cutting throats in the broad daylight. I picked the room key off the broad who got slashed to death, and rented a room at the Silver Blood Inn where she stayed. I got my first real sleep the whole game on a bed made of stone, but eight hours later, I was well-rested and it was half past midnight. I unlocked the girl’s room and horked her journal from the dresser. I went out on the town, and was immediately harassed by the city guards who are dicks, and climbed the city streets to the keep where I hoped to steal some really fine shit before completing my assigned tasks.