thefloppinspriggan

[thefloppinspriggan]

"If you seek a guide to the Marsh Witch, you're going to have to do me a favor first. I've picked up a bounty on a bandit hiding out in the sewers. Haven't had much luck navigating through and I could use someone watching my back." Gwen paused for a second. The thought of walking through miles of muck did not appeal to her. She studied the woman. She seemed sturdy enough, and on top of that, the agency did leave her hanging out dry. The thought going back to Wayrest empty handed, the picture of her disappointed father doing the face, the sigh, and the I-give-up-and-throw-my-hands... She would not want to purchase a fare to come back to all of... that.

She heaved a great sigh. "Fine. But when we're done, we're heading to Morthal. Deal?" The woman drank her ale all in one big gulp, slammed her cup on the bar counter and thrusted her hand out. "Deal! Corpulus -- another round of ale for me and the lass!" The barkeep raised his hands up. "Orla, you gotta slow your roll--" "It'll be your arse rolling down the basement if you don't slide me and my friend some drinks! We've got things to commemorate, Corpulus!" "Oh yeah? And what's that?" "OH, you know--" She threw her arm around Gwen's head and pulled her in -- her glasses nearly slipping. "Budding friendship? Opportunities for growth from walking through the sewers? An experience in the lifetime?"

---

[thefloppinspriggan]

[thefloppinspriggan]

Just like that, Hearthfire arrived, and with it, the soft rain. A storm had washed over the plains of Whiterun, replenishing its streams once more. The farmer of Pelagia peers up to say a solemn thanks to Kyne. A weary traveler rushes to a hollowed out house, thankful for shelter. The horsemaster looks on with satisfaction as the water fills his horse's trough. A blacksmith welcomes the cool sigh of relief on her hair. The child sits by the fire in her home, thankful that she would not need to accompany her mother to the market today.

[thefloppinspriggan]

[thefloppinspriggan]

Riften as of late. Perfect for the cozy weather. Mods: Blubbos Riften Trees 2022 | Girl's Travel Outfit

[thefloppinspriggan]

"Runil just rambled on," Medronas said. "We should get some clarity on where his journal--" "Chickens!" Lucien interrupted. "Lucien, we don't--" "So... so round, so fluffy -- so beautiful!" Lucien cried. "In all my years gallivanting the Cyrodiilic countryside side, never have I laid eyes on such a majestic and regal stock!" Over the fence, Mathies chimed in, "Indara takes care of the animals. She's a good one, that lass." Medronas sauntered over and glanced down skeptically at the barn fowls. They were rather rotund indeed. Lucien turned to Mathies and offers a hand, "Tell your wife that she has done well for herself! I've a wonderful recipe developed by my personal chef. I can share with you if you wish. When the winter comes and you seek warmth and comfort for a warm evening, may your breasts be ever plump and juicy!" Mod: Mihail's Chickens & Chicks | THICCEN

[thefloppinspriggan]

Started Banishers: Ghosts of New Eden. Incredible vibes!

[thefloppinspriggan]

THEY TOOK OUR HOLIDAY 😭

[thefloppinspriggan]

[thefloppinspriggan]

Medronas had heard of Whiterun: the trading hub of Skyrim, the jewel of the tundra plains, home of The Companions, host of the Gildergreen, and many, many other epitaphs lost in exchange of hands, rumors, and conversations. He had not heard of Riverwood -- a small hamlet by the lake, where the fat hens roamed in contentedness and the water felt cool to touch and flowed at an even, steady pace. Foreign was this sense of peace for it had been some time since he took notice of the warmth beneath the leaves. After some minor chatter with the villagers -- who seemed well enough -- he made his way past the logging camp to a spot along the bridge. It was a place as good as any to sit for a little while and to simply be.

[thefloppinspriggan]

Above the cold town, there stood the Statue of Azura, shrouded by the fog and mist. On occasion, Olarune would find Master Tolfdir up early in the mornings, lute in hand, plucking gently at the strings with an upturned eye towards the mountain.

What is there to sing about, she wondered a moment. And, if there was a song indeed, was it worthwhile?

[thefloppinspriggan]

Stumbled out of the passage back to the camp where the bandits laid dead. Needing a moment to collect herself, she sat down next to the fire. The trek into the mountains to find Broken Helm Hollow was precarious, and she had hoped that the conclusion of her quest would lead to a more favorable ending: a lost husband needing saving, or evidence of infidelity that would give old Grosta a sense of finality. She did not expect to find a torture room and an arrow buried into Leifnarr's chest. And for what? She wondered. Some time had passed and she came upon no answer, no note left behind, no answer for cruelty.

Perhaps it was just a result of simple, terrible luck.

[thefloppinspriggan]

God's will is what it is.

[thefloppinspriggan]

It was good to hear the sound of rushing water. He had, for some time now, felt his head become inundated by life in the Gray Quarter. He had become used to the jeering in the fighter's pits, the slurring vitriolic echoes of late night drunks, or the caustic questioning of the guards. But here, the river is cool to touch. It knew its own song and it coursed through the valley, its momentum strong and focused. It took him somewhere.

[thefloppinspriggan]

"Aye, the college is right down this way, past the old tree. Can't miss it. If you intend to learn all that you mean, then commit to it. There's no turning back beyond the bridge."

[thefloppinspriggan]

Somehow, I broke my game a few weeks ago and went through the painstaking process of rebuilding my mod list and improved on a couple of things in the process! More adventures to come.

On a side note, I love Ivarstead. It's the little hamlet that I keep coming back to, even when I had the chance to restart. Something about this quaint village nestled at the bottom of the Throat makes me wish that there were more things to do. Like, become a guide for pilgrims seeking to travel up the mountains. Or convincing people to move back home to Ivarstead and to grow it out. I don't know!

[thefloppinspriggan]