Daedric Princes Still Busting My Ass

• Posted by Ailís Haughton January 21, 2012 - 1,066 views

  Busting my ass morally, NOT technically. Because I am like, so skilled? Have I mentioned?

  

  I didn't think RPG's could get much better than Oblivion

  How I loved playing Oblivion! But I must admit, I didn’t enjoy the Daedric quests as much as say, looting Ayelid Ruins, in spite of the awesome rewards. The reason being, for supposed dark lords, they weren’t that very dark at all (although having to kill a frickin’ unicorn to win Hircine’s favour did grate on me). Now maybe I am being a bit desensitised, I know one of the quests involved slaying a member of every race- that is pretty dark, no? Well, I okayed it in my mind by slaying only Daedric worshippers who were half way down the road to hell anyway. Other quests involved being transported to planes of Oblivion to fight warrior champions or find ghosts or some shit- so there was no tangible thread of morality to hold on to, it was just…disconnected from the reality of the world I was living in. I could quite happily return to Rosethorn Manor in Skingrad to hoard my treasures whilst beefing up on shepherd’s pie made by my housekeeper Eyja. No one could know where I had been or what I had done.

  But in Skyrim, I find myself hesitant to do their bidding, morally compromised, even hating myself a bit…or a whole bunch.

  I already described how I have “eaten human flesh” to please Namira. I thought that could be the worst I could do. But maybe not.

  Hircine challenged me to slay one of his hunters/ werewolves. This bothered me because I feel quite fond of the werewolf sorts. Being married to one and all. Plus, completing the Companions quests was practically the first thing I did in Skyrim. Their haunting tale of enslavement to the primal instincts of the beast, and their being hounded (sorry for that pun!) by the Silver Hand quite enchanted me. And how Farkas and Vilkas unexpectedly approached me to help them fight their inner wolf made me love them that bit more. They are sad creatures, these werewolves. Disconnected from their crimes, wreaking havoc, only to awaken in human form and be left with the responsibility and anguish from the fallout of their abandon.

  Such was the plight of Sinding (stupid name) who shredded a little girl and was now on the run after escaping jail in Falkreath. all me crazy, but I think he was damn sorry he had killed her. I think he wanted to try an live a normal life. So when I followed him to Bloated Man’s Grotto, as per Hircine’s bidding, I had no intention of killing him.

  The grotto, by the way, had undergone an awesome transformation, the moon being the colour of blood and all.

  
  

  
  

  No, Sinding, I don't want to kill- SLASH!BURNSLASH!- you...oh.

  Anyway, I committed my sin for Hircine by pure accident. Sinding was in wolf form and he was in the middle of giving me  a choice when I accidentally pressed the circle button and ended the conversation prematurely. This meant Sinding dashed away and I felt I should follow him and try and engage him again. But when I found him, he attacked me! Clearly I had used up my chance to not go down this path. Feeling backed into a corner, I hit back, with lethal force. Then the option came up to flay the skin from Sinding’s corpse!

  What! No! I can’t do that! I may be a genocidal maniac at this stage considering how many damn bandit’s and Forsworn I’ve murdered, but skin a basically human corpse???

  So yeah, I flayed him. For the treasure, like. And once I upgraded, the Savior’s Hide was pretty alright!  But yeah, I felt guilty wearing it. Like it was wrong.

  But not nearly as wrong as what I did next for Boethiah.

  “Use your tongue as a lying blade,” said one of her cultists, “then use a like, actual blade to slay some innocent in your thrall.” I’m paraphrasing.

  I could only think that she meant a follower. I have been journeying with Kharjo for some time now. I quite love him and his furry face, and his “puss-in-boots-antonio-banderas” banter. But besides the cuddliness, he is a pretty awesome sidekick. Resilient and versatile, he backs me up in ways all the other followers failed to do. I couldn’t ask him to touch the Pillar of Sacrifice for me. So I let him go.

  I had to think of who to sacrifice. Which follower annoyed me so much that I dropped her ass inside of ten minutes?

  Lydia.

  It’s not that she had done anything particularly bad. I just didn’t like the way she she sarcastically sighed about being resigned to share my “burden” when I asked her to hold some armour and shit for me. I didn’t like that one bit. OK, she had no respect for me, that much was obvious. She was assigned to me, we weren’t bonded by some mutual do-gooder quest. Could I blame her?

  Yes!

  

  Jordis, the Swordmai- doh! I mean, Lydia. Sighhhh.

  So I legged it back to Whiterun to grab Lydia (“I am at your -sigh!- service”) who for some reason was sitting in my bedroom? Hello? Isn’t there a mat and straw somewhere else around here? And then I took her back to Boethiah’s Sacellum where I wasted no time in bidding her to touch the Pillar.

  A strange energy enveloped her, and I deftly jumped over heaps of burnt corpses to slash her with my Blade of Sacrifice.

  But as soon as I did it, I felt terrible. How could I do such a thing! What came over me!

  Ueeruugh! (Lydia’s death-sigh). She collapsed, until moments later, Boethiah inhabited her and used her body to speak to  me. Disgusting meatskin! Boethiah cried (okay I might have gotten part of the reference from”Supernatural”). It made me hate Boethiah a lot, because I thought, how can you say that?? Lydia is so pretty!!

  Anyway, I had already gone so far (and I must admit it was worth it, the Ebony Mail is seriously awesome).So that’s the moral of my story- there is none to be found! Not where I am concerned anyway. It seems that once I cross a line, I am willing to raise the game to an obscene level.

  But as my time in Skyrim wears on, the crimes I have committed are still really taking their toll on me. I feel sullied by the cruel games of the Daedra. It actually feels like they are taunting me. Even wearing the ill-won Ebony Mail, cool though it is, is a constant reminder that I am their selfish slave, their dark champion. And even though I hate myself for doing the things they ask me to do, it is also why Skyrim is a tougher place than Oblivion, and all the more engaging for it.

  

  Who would YOU kill to obtain such a prize?