Post by northlander on Jul 28, 2019 17:07:14 GMT -5
"Once... upon a time!"
"It was in those days, when sticking your neck out in the wrong neck of the woods could find you shorthanded. Or shortheaded as it were."
"And the only way to escape certain doom -- certain decapitation-induced doom, one that leaves you with one less good head on your shoulders -- is for a big dragon to appear and lay waste to everything around you. You should be that lucky, shouldn't you?"
"OK, there's Whiterun -- hopefully based on something to do with snow, because this being Skyrim and all, and not anything marginally more racist-related. Anyway, I finally have one lead to the location of a sneaky bastard who hasn't entertained people in practically forever. And I am going to take that one, even if I have to climb a goddamned mountain in the process."
"And I'm already being made to swallow my words. Great. So... Mr. Jarl, care to tell me where a certain someone I'm looking for is hiding?"
"What? Me give away the location of refugees coming to my lands? Certainly not!"
"Well, that was quite unhelpful, but thanks anyway."
"And I would certainly not recommend climbing to Hrothgar and asking the Greybeards who reside there, because that would be very wrong."
"I... uh, OK, that was considerably more helpful. Wouldn't want you to go against your values as Jarl of your people or anything, right? Because why would you even do that?"
"I'm bored."
"Yes, I can see that."
"Well... I should start in Ivarstead, or so I was told. Far be it for me to dismiss good advice. Or recently repainted road signs. Someone really want people to go to Ivarstead. Or Winterhold? Well, since I ain't holdin' no winters...."
"7000 steps?! That's pretty close to... well, at least it's not above... erm... never mind. So, Mr. Klimmek..."
"Yes, I know visiting these fogies might sound like I'm being kind, but.... that's not what you have in mind, is it?"
"Well, no. Did the words 'delivery' and '7000 steps' completely pass you by?"
"I think I can see where this is going."
"Yes, indeed. It was kind of you to offer to bring my bag of goods with you on the way up. Hey, it'll give you an excuse to pester the old folks inside for whatever reason you want to climb 7000 steps of stairs in the blistering cold. At least you won't overheat up there."
"Boy howdy, isn't that something. But fine! I have a trail, I have a solid tip and I'm going to see these people if it's the last thing I do."
"That's the spirit. And speaking of which...."
"Brrr, he wasn't kidding about the blistering cold. There are winds up here that makes its way up places I didn't even know I had. I swear... if he isn't up there, I'm going to murder him for that."
"The turning of the what? The only thing I'm going to turn is your neck, all the way around, if you don't give me some sensible answers."
"You are looking for someone, aren't you? Someone you would very much like to speak with. But before we delve into the most secret of secrets of the Greybeards, you must undertake.... a test!"
"You what?! Wait, I mean... I what?! Tell me you're joking. And I'm going to shove that shrubbery so far up your..."
"Shrubbery? No, no, no. You will be sent to a tomb, the tomb of Jurgen Windcaller, where you will bring back the horn which lies there."
"A horn? Even better. I can shove that thing up your asses, and you shall make the theme to Shantae's 'P.O.O.P T.O.O.T.', whatever the hell that thing was."
"That's the spirit."
*sigh* "Well, whatever spirit you are about to indulge in, you better save some for me when I get back. Because at least it's just one dungeon, even if it's probably on the other side of the map."
"And of course it was. And what's this? 'rent the... in Riverwood...' I WAS JUST THERE! For the love of..."
"I beg to differ. I just want to go straight to my goal, but you keep throwing all this BS my way."
"Well, I just had to make sure you were really going to give it your all to find him. He hasn't done anything in five years!"
"And there's people being weird again. And weirdly specific."
"Well, I'm bored. And being in hiding all the time isn't as fun as he might think."
"And here comes Mr. Weirdo to talk about dragons all of a sudden. Granted, one just saved me from being executed, albeit probably very unintentionally so due to the whole 'leaving a whole town in a burning mess' thing, but still..."
"I am a woman, you collossal weirdo."
"Coulda fooled me."
"And I think I see the reason why you get into so many fistfights all the time. Might have to do with the strong drinks too. Anyway, don't let me keep you from your supper consisting of half a loaf of bread and whatever those things on your plate are. I need to get out of here before my urge to punch people returns again."
"Aaaah, now this is more like it. Blood red sunsets and frosty stairs leading up mountains. I've done this before, I can do it again. And I don't have a sack of oddly-smelling food weighing me down this time. AND they better not have anything else for me to gather, or I'm going to accuse them of being half Moogle."
"Oh? Well, that's being... surprisingly helpful. Then why did you send me to pick up a horn?"
"We were just making sure you were serious about this."
"Boy, doesn't that sound familiar."
"The way I see it; if you had given up on any of this at any point, I doubt you'd have the fortitude to convince him to give it another go."
"That makes sense, I guess. And now I'm just scared. Anyway, let's go get me some shouting lessons, then."
"Good, because we're getting quote bored from doing nothing but meditating and having all our food delivered to us all the time."
"Uh... right."
"OPEN SES-."
"Don't you even start with us, you blasphemer!"
"Well, this is nice. When I made my way up to the Graybeards, there was just one thing I wanted above all else: more mountains to climb! Only now with winds to shout away."
"And there you are. Clearly, you've become the maddest of the bunch. You went and had yourself turned into a dragon -- and OLD dragon, even -- just so you wouldn't have to write an LP?!"
"You wanted me to live up here as a human? Clearly I'm the mad one here, right? Erm... that is to say..."
"You know why I'm here. I'm not going to say I've searched for you for five years, ever since that Lufia 2 LP, but I am pretty sure I've searched for at least four."
"So that you can speak in a weird language and look important?"
"Krosis! Apologies. No, it is so that I can have some Drem Nahlot -- some peace and quiet."
"Well, you've had five year's worth, and I can tell you've been here, if not for five years, then close to that. Time to get off your ass and stop being pretentious."
"You sound like the Frinklov Joor -- the hotheaded mortal -- in Windhelm. She was very pruzah -- very good -- at making me want to never use my haal -- my hands -- on anything again, and now that I have wings instead of hands, it's a weird kind of situation to get into."
"I've... met her. You have my sympathies. For that, at least. But that is that and this is this, so to speak, and now I am here. And you know very well why I am here."
"Yes, I do believe you desire me to use my yol -- my fire -- on yet another game."
"Oh, can it with the Dragonspeak already. And also, I'm pretty sure you've noticed that you can take screenshots with the Playstation 4, right? And you know quite well what that means. And also, uh... bring your head a little closer."
"OK, so there IS a certain game you can LP now which is... *whisper whisper*."
"Mmmmm, yes, I see, I see. You do drive a hard bargain, but an interesting one. I think I can bring myself to... paartake in this game you would have me do."
"....."
"Mhmhmhm."
"MOUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAA."
"Brrrr. Why does it feel like there's a World Championship Zerg Rush competition happening inside my spinal column all of a sudden?"
To be.... started!
"It was in those days, when sticking your neck out in the wrong neck of the woods could find you shorthanded. Or shortheaded as it were."
"And the only way to escape certain doom -- certain decapitation-induced doom, one that leaves you with one less good head on your shoulders -- is for a big dragon to appear and lay waste to everything around you. You should be that lucky, shouldn't you?"
"OK, there's Whiterun -- hopefully based on something to do with snow, because this being Skyrim and all, and not anything marginally more racist-related. Anyway, I finally have one lead to the location of a sneaky bastard who hasn't entertained people in practically forever. And I am going to take that one, even if I have to climb a goddamned mountain in the process."
"And I'm already being made to swallow my words. Great. So... Mr. Jarl, care to tell me where a certain someone I'm looking for is hiding?"
"What? Me give away the location of refugees coming to my lands? Certainly not!"
"Well, that was quite unhelpful, but thanks anyway."
"And I would certainly not recommend climbing to Hrothgar and asking the Greybeards who reside there, because that would be very wrong."
"I... uh, OK, that was considerably more helpful. Wouldn't want you to go against your values as Jarl of your people or anything, right? Because why would you even do that?"
"I'm bored."
"Yes, I can see that."
"Well... I should start in Ivarstead, or so I was told. Far be it for me to dismiss good advice. Or recently repainted road signs. Someone really want people to go to Ivarstead. Or Winterhold? Well, since I ain't holdin' no winters...."
"7000 steps?! That's pretty close to... well, at least it's not above... erm... never mind. So, Mr. Klimmek..."
"Yes, I know visiting these fogies might sound like I'm being kind, but.... that's not what you have in mind, is it?"
"Well, no. Did the words 'delivery' and '7000 steps' completely pass you by?"
"I think I can see where this is going."
"Yes, indeed. It was kind of you to offer to bring my bag of goods with you on the way up. Hey, it'll give you an excuse to pester the old folks inside for whatever reason you want to climb 7000 steps of stairs in the blistering cold. At least you won't overheat up there."
"Boy howdy, isn't that something. But fine! I have a trail, I have a solid tip and I'm going to see these people if it's the last thing I do."
"That's the spirit. And speaking of which...."
"Brrr, he wasn't kidding about the blistering cold. There are winds up here that makes its way up places I didn't even know I had. I swear... if he isn't up there, I'm going to murder him for that."
"The turning of the what? The only thing I'm going to turn is your neck, all the way around, if you don't give me some sensible answers."
"You are looking for someone, aren't you? Someone you would very much like to speak with. But before we delve into the most secret of secrets of the Greybeards, you must undertake.... a test!"
"You what?! Wait, I mean... I what?! Tell me you're joking. And I'm going to shove that shrubbery so far up your..."
"Shrubbery? No, no, no. You will be sent to a tomb, the tomb of Jurgen Windcaller, where you will bring back the horn which lies there."
"A horn? Even better. I can shove that thing up your asses, and you shall make the theme to Shantae's 'P.O.O.P T.O.O.T.', whatever the hell that thing was."
"That's the spirit."
*sigh* "Well, whatever spirit you are about to indulge in, you better save some for me when I get back. Because at least it's just one dungeon, even if it's probably on the other side of the map."
"And of course it was. And what's this? 'rent the... in Riverwood...' I WAS JUST THERE! For the love of..."
"I beg to differ. I just want to go straight to my goal, but you keep throwing all this BS my way."
"Well, I just had to make sure you were really going to give it your all to find him. He hasn't done anything in five years!"
"And there's people being weird again. And weirdly specific."
"Well, I'm bored. And being in hiding all the time isn't as fun as he might think."
"And here comes Mr. Weirdo to talk about dragons all of a sudden. Granted, one just saved me from being executed, albeit probably very unintentionally so due to the whole 'leaving a whole town in a burning mess' thing, but still..."
"I am a woman, you collossal weirdo."
"Coulda fooled me."
"And I think I see the reason why you get into so many fistfights all the time. Might have to do with the strong drinks too. Anyway, don't let me keep you from your supper consisting of half a loaf of bread and whatever those things on your plate are. I need to get out of here before my urge to punch people returns again."
"Aaaah, now this is more like it. Blood red sunsets and frosty stairs leading up mountains. I've done this before, I can do it again. And I don't have a sack of oddly-smelling food weighing me down this time. AND they better not have anything else for me to gather, or I'm going to accuse them of being half Moogle."
"Oh? Well, that's being... surprisingly helpful. Then why did you send me to pick up a horn?"
"We were just making sure you were serious about this."
"Boy, doesn't that sound familiar."
"The way I see it; if you had given up on any of this at any point, I doubt you'd have the fortitude to convince him to give it another go."
"That makes sense, I guess. And now I'm just scared. Anyway, let's go get me some shouting lessons, then."
"Good, because we're getting quote bored from doing nothing but meditating and having all our food delivered to us all the time."
"Uh... right."
"OPEN SES-."
"Don't you even start with us, you blasphemer!"
"Well, this is nice. When I made my way up to the Graybeards, there was just one thing I wanted above all else: more mountains to climb! Only now with winds to shout away."
"And there you are. Clearly, you've become the maddest of the bunch. You went and had yourself turned into a dragon -- and OLD dragon, even -- just so you wouldn't have to write an LP?!"
"You wanted me to live up here as a human? Clearly I'm the mad one here, right? Erm... that is to say..."
"You know why I'm here. I'm not going to say I've searched for you for five years, ever since that Lufia 2 LP, but I am pretty sure I've searched for at least four."
"So that you can speak in a weird language and look important?"
"Krosis! Apologies. No, it is so that I can have some Drem Nahlot -- some peace and quiet."
"Well, you've had five year's worth, and I can tell you've been here, if not for five years, then close to that. Time to get off your ass and stop being pretentious."
"You sound like the Frinklov Joor -- the hotheaded mortal -- in Windhelm. She was very pruzah -- very good -- at making me want to never use my haal -- my hands -- on anything again, and now that I have wings instead of hands, it's a weird kind of situation to get into."
"I've... met her. You have my sympathies. For that, at least. But that is that and this is this, so to speak, and now I am here. And you know very well why I am here."
"Yes, I do believe you desire me to use my yol -- my fire -- on yet another game."
"Oh, can it with the Dragonspeak already. And also, I'm pretty sure you've noticed that you can take screenshots with the Playstation 4, right? And you know quite well what that means. And also, uh... bring your head a little closer."
"OK, so there IS a certain game you can LP now which is... *whisper whisper*."
"Mmmmm, yes, I see, I see. You do drive a hard bargain, but an interesting one. I think I can bring myself to... paartake in this game you would have me do."
"....."
"Mhmhmhm."
"MOUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAA."
"Brrrr. Why does it feel like there's a World Championship Zerg Rush competition happening inside my spinal column all of a sudden?"
To be.... started!