It’s impossible to have a nice, calm day of hunting in Skyrim. We’d merrily murdered our way through a few bears and several wolves when we both smelled blood and could hear the frantic “HELP”ing of a Nord up a ridge.
So we investigated, and discovered that he had been attacked by Spriggans while hunting down a bear with his friends, all of whom were dead inside the cave.
He was nearly dead himself, but thankfully I had a potion for that, which Brynjolf made a point of raising an eyebrow at me as I handed it over.
"Thanks. I need to… need to go avenge my friends now."
Now Brynjolf was raising both eyebrows.
"How about you just stay here and let us clear out the cave for you?"
"You’d do that for a total stranger?"
"I’ve done odder things."
Ugh. Spriggans? Why Spriggans? I’m not even sure if I’m allowed to kill them.
He turned the storage rooms into an alchemy area.
I stared around, more than a little at a loss, and then finally managed, “Why?”
He crossed his arms. “Because I’m tired of you not having potions, lass.” His eyes dropped to my mangled thigh, and I sighed. “Now show me how to make something to cure that.”
"What, you don’t know how to make potions?"
"Not that you can drink."
"Huh." I chewed on my lip, then started having him track down ingredients so I didn’t have to have him watch me while I debated whether or not to say thank you.
Later that day
I told him about the Hunter’s Guild while we were bottling potions. He handed me the biggest one and chuckled. “That explains how a sabrecat got to your leg.”
I chugged it and grimaced as I experienced the fun sensations of rapid healing. “Yeah. Still need to go kill ten wolves and ten bears, but they’re less full of hate.”
"I wouldn’t mind a bit of hunting. There’s plenty of bears in the woods past the mill."
"Well, then." I pointedly stuffed a couple of potions in my pack. "Dinner, a good rest, and then my leg should be good for it."
"Read my mind, lass. Your room’s heated. I’ve taken over one of the beds in the spare room. Figured you wouldn’t mind."
"No. Uh. What, think I’m going to make you sleep in the stable?"
He chuckled, and I stifled a sigh of relief that he, yet again, asked nothing of me. Even alone in a house in the middle of the woods.
((How many followers?))
as of Monday!
((I love every single one of you! Welcome to the new people who picked this up when I came back, and good to see the ones who’ve been reading since the start. <3
Feel free to take today to ask me, Braith, or Brynjolf anything!))
((I was just posting this to make a scary book dance party joke but now I think Jareth needs to be a DLC villain. Or Sanguine.))
Well, the house doesn’t look burnt down, or much different at all. That’s a refreshing change. So what did Brynjolf do to it?
It sounds a bit too empty without Rayya working away in the front yard, which makes me guilty, even though I wasn’t the one who ate her. What does that say about me?
Ugh. I need to get inside, eat something, and have a nap. I smell like vampire dust.
After some brutal mudcrab murder, then stealing the offerings at Zenithar’s shrine
I’d forgotten that they’re all over the place out here. I sneaked up on this one, but he managed to chomp on my thigh before I severed his spine.
And of course I didn’t bring any potions with me.
Plan to run all over the plains has been revised to a plan to hobble. Gracefully. All over the plains.
I’ve gotten so used to fighting dragons, and vampires, and other weird things that these hunts might seem anticlimactic now. No wonder Vilkas used to make noises about taking a trip to Morrowind to hunt there.
The wolf is dead. It died to one arrow, which makes me feel a bit guilty, but there are mudcrabs to kill and an entire swath of plains to run on until I get there.
In the dark.
I left my horse in Riverwood and took off on foot, determined to enjoy my free time. It’s been far too long since I just walked somewhere.
Later that day
I ran into Faendal when I was in Riverwood looking for signs of the wolf. At first I just stared at him, wondering why he looked familiar, while he did the same.
Finally, he tentatively managed, “Braith? Are you back from Whiterun?”
I managed not to roll my eyes. “Yeah. I hear you guys are being harassed by a wolf.”
He nodded. “A big one! It lives in the hills behind the town. Keeps attacking our livestock. Need any help tacking it?”
"Uh, no." I rubbed at the back of my neck and started edging my way out of town. "Thanks, though. See you around."
Huh. At least the wood-cutting, Imperial-loving Bosmer isn’t dead after all. I’d say that puts my mind at ease, but I’d honestly forgotten about him. More than once.
((In case anyone has a stuck in third person camera bug with Dawnguard))
((So, Dawnguard has a whole host of camera issues, yeah? And when I loaded my Braith save, I discovered that not only could she not attack, zoom camera, or keep the camera in first person, but any time she rode a horse the horse would become Braith and it was just MADNESS.
Research was done. For PC players, the console command “enableplayercontrols” restores the ability to fight and fixes most of the camera weirdness. To fix the first-person camera and get back my ability to take proper screenshots, I had to use this batch script fix, which I can’t recommend enough. It took me two seconds and uncorrupted my save.
The sad thing for non-PC players is it looks like the most reliable fix is loading an earlier save.
Just thought I’d spread the word in case this happens to anyone else!))
I took my time heading from Whiterun to Riften. It was nice being outdoors and on my own, and I also wasn’t sure how to say what I needed to say.
Thankfully, Marcurio responded to the news that I was abandoning him again by looking thoughtfully over at Mjoll. “I think I’ll stick this one out, actually. Might even join up.”
He grinned up at me. “She’s pretty, she’s nice, she cooks, and she’s clean for a Nord. Plus, she can keep me safe. What’s not to like?”
I crossed my arms and shook my head at him. “I knew I should have never given you my house.”
"Blessing accepted with thanks. And you’re welcome for taking over the whole vampires trying to end the world thing."
I smacked his arm, which caused a soft ringing noise. “Saved you from dragons. Every single one of you assholes owe me.”
He shrugged. “True. And she’d never tell you, but she agrees. That’s why she hates you so much. …Actually, you bailing might be the best thing that could happen to the order.”
Honestly, I’m surprised that offended me. It shouldn’t have. I’ve never been much of a ‘groups’ person.
At least now I can focus on taking care of these Hunter’s Guild tasks before I head back. How hard can killing a wolf and taking out some mudcrabs be?
Inside the Drunken Huntsman
"Ah, sister. Welcome back."
"Huh. You remember me?"
"Of course. Fellow Bosmer with a most interesting bow. My brother and I had a bet going on when you would come back. Sadly, his timing was more accurate, and I now owe him three Septims and an elk. Assuming, of course, you’re here about the Hunter’s Guild?"
"Yeah. I am, actually."
He pointed behind me. “Door just there. Most everyone’s out, but they have a list of tasks around Whiterun that they’d like done.”
"Thanks. I’ll look into it." And while I look into it, I’ll try and figure out a way to casually ask if they mind taking kills that have been, uh. Clawed. Or gnawed on.
Whiterun is on the way to Riften, so I got to stop there first. Vilkas was… nearly happy to see me, which was more than slightly terrifying.
“You look well. I hear you’re making headway against the vampires.”
“Do people have nothing better to do than gossip about where they’ve seen me?”
He snorted. “Apparently not. Do you blame them for taking comfort in the fact that the Dragonborn is turning her attention to vampires?”
“Yes. Because I’m not. The Dawnguard can handle it.”
He raised an eyebrow, and I moved on before he could voice my doubts. “So. Remember when most of the Companions were cursed?”
“Did the others living with you know?”
He gave me a look. “Do you think we would endanger their lives? The new bloods didn’t find out immediately, but all the servants knew.”
I chewed on my lip. “I need a housecarl.”
“Something tells me you need more than that.” He crossed his arms, and I scowled.
“I’m going to leave before we remember that we don’t like each other.”
“Braith.” He sighed. “I’ll think about your problem. There might be someone I know that would be suitable.”
“Thanks, Vilkas.” I gave him a little wave and let myself out to go handle the errand that had occurred to me on the walk up to Jorrvaskr.
((Any burning questions that need answering?))
((Hey! So I’m working on the final arc of Braith the Bosmer (which is queued and posting again!), but I want to give you all the chance to send in questions to me. Are there plot points you’ve wondered about this whole time that you’d like tied up? Any unanswered questions about characters, events, that you’d enjoy some more exploration of before the end?
Now’s the chance to let me know. I’ve loved writing and interacting with all of you over the past two years, and I want to take this chance to let you influence the story through more than just asks. I can’t promise that every question will be answered, but I want to see what has captured your curiosity and resolve what I can.))
Thankfully, our last run went off without a hitch, and when we came to I admitted that Brynjolf was right, and I should get out of the Dawnguard. His visible sigh of relief made me want to smack him.
"So I’m going to go do that," I said instead.
"Good." He paused and took a breath. "If you don’t mind, I’ll stay here. I found plans for a room and I want to try my hands at building."
"I… huh. Suit yourself."
What more could this house possibly need? I’m going to worry about this until I get back. Y’ffre’s teeth.