Skyrim - Review Diary: "Scratching The Surface"

Dovakhiin, Gallows Rock - 5th of Heartfire

It’s been three very long days since the start of my adventure in Skyrim, though it feels like many more moons have passed. What began as a tumultuous return of dragon kind has quickly spiraled into something bigger; something much more expansive than merely that. I had never expected this world to be so humongous in scale, until the good denizens of this land beckoned my aid.  From vast tundra’s to mountain tops; the vistas here are both endless and awe striking at every turn.

What makes it worse is that there’s always a strange new construction or place of interest looming on the horizon, which takes me even further down the rabbit hole. Many times during my quests, I had stumbled upon ruins with even more strange and wondrous activities. This has put increasing strain on my progress to help the lands get rid of their problems, for both flying beasts and politics. The land of Skyrim is as shaken as all lands governed by men of all races, squabbling over trinkets, whilst fire rains down from the sky.

Encountering these dragons is no laughing matter and it’s always shocking to see that shadow suddenly sweep by. Luckily, I have fallen in the good graces of some brave men and women and together we have managed to fight off a few of these angry behemoths already. My heart goes out to our fallen brethren, who paid the ultimate price to protect that which they hold dear. Our stories will live on in song and tales at every mead hall in all the corners of our territory and beyond. The glorious music of Skyrim is beyond anything I’ve ever witnessed so far; it will be a humble tribute to their legacy.

The very thought of the war drums and chilling sounds of the choirs send shivers down my spine and spear me forwards. It seems that in every battle, I can hear a distant echo of it, which boils my blood in the name of victory. Whether it be in the expansive outlands or crawling through the most claustrophobic caves, these sounds and voices have been of great aid already. It is partially through them guiding my blades, arrows and magic that I have already been able to prosper so far as a warrior. My aptitude has rocketed since my first endeavors and has now led me to become a name to be reckoned with. Through them, I have proven my mettle and joined up with a band of incredible fighters in Whiterun. Together, they’ve allowed me to conquer their domain and help out many of its citizens with many differing issues.

It has gotten me to a point where I’m already a proud home owner in Whiterun, where I was also appointed as a form of lord for my valor. I’ve also acquired enough coin to get me a trusted horse, to roam the lands on horseback. She might not be a looker, but she is a brave soul; even charging into battle headfirst, though I wish she wouldn’t. It’s strange that my companions seem to be able to keep up with her on foot, but that’s not even close to the strangest thing I have seen. And that’s not telling about the fierce giants, huge mammoths or legions of rare and magnificent creatures roaming the land; this is different.

There were times where deer fell from the sky. People were melting into the walls or ran away without reason, only to come back. It struck me as odd, but then again, this is an odd place where the penalty of death is only a 40 gold fine. It has made me lose some value for life. One of my first actions was to dispatch a dementing woman, as her spoils far outweighed her demise. Her son sleeps with her corpse every night, which is an abomination. It was best for him to join her, instead of wallowing in decay. What odd customs are tradition here in Skyrim.

But the strangest event was when I came to a towered bridge yesterday. Bandits had taken over the passing. This would not stand! As I knew this would be a strenuous and tactical battle, I hid my horse at a safe distance, so she wouldn’t want to join me in the towers. After dispatching some foes in an awkward fashion, I finally reached the bridge’s center to bear the full brunt of a ranged assault on me. I managed as I could to escape the rain of arrows, until suddenly something ungodly happened: For reasons beyond me, the gods had made my horse fall from the sky onto one of the bandits, to join me on the bridge. As we were sitting ducks, my loyal hooved companion quickly fell and I was forced to retreat. Why would the gods make such a strange appearance before us? Should they not stick to their shrines and stones of blessing? And why do these things occur in the strangest of ways? It has me puzzled for now, but it doesn’t hinder my adventure too much.

There is still so much to do here. After learning many new trades such as smithing, alchemy and cooking, it seems that there is much more that lies ahead. Though I think I’ve managed to clear Whiterun of its most urgent populace troubles, I have barely scratched the surface when I see the map before me. So many lands, towns and cities still stand untouched and all are divided by huge chunks of land. I’d best rest up for the night and start fresh tomorrow. Rest assured: Skyrim will be free from fiery devils and silver tongues one way or another. I’ll see to it personally.

Strike true.

Daav Valentaten, NoobFeed. (@Daavpuke)