I recently started a new game in The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. Not because I had completed it previously, but because I had made so many tragic life decisions in my first game that I could see no way out of the hole I had dug myself. Better to purge and do over.
I learned a couple of things from my first game:
1. High Elf should use magic. Not a broadsword.
2. Dragons should not be engaged on the tops of mountains.
3. Don’t hoard baskets. Jeez.
4. I’m just not cut out for sneaking.
5. Goddamn I’m flammable.
With this information soundly in mind, I set up a nice barbarian character with stacks of health and infinite perks in 2-handed attacks and heavy armour; much more in keeping with my battle style. I’ve been having a much better time as a result. I don’t die nearly as often. I clank across the plains like an enraged kitchen drawer.
However, some things have remained the same:
1. I hoard stuff that has no value. Whatsoever. My house in Whiterun has become a dumping ground for worthless crap.
2. Broadswording things to the face is still a valid strategy.
I also accidentally became a werewolf, because I make bad life decisions. That being said, I’ve grown rather fond of bounding across the plains and savaging corpses. Still waiting for werewolf-friendly lock picks and bags to be made though. Having to wait around for my transformation to time out before I could loot that shelf stacked with mead and ale in Falder’s Tooth was rather tedious.
In addition, I have a horse problem.
I found it highly amusing, and strangely accurate, that Skyrim’s horses are large, hairy, argumentative and happy to break physics. Mountaineering on a horse does feel a little odd. So far I have stolen all of the available colours of horse, and decided to keep the unique horse Frost, a palomino Clydesdale, for my standard mount.
Until a bandit killed him while I was clearing out a dungeon.
The rage… I felt genuine rage.
I left poor sad Frost behind and have pledged to join the Dark Brotherhood, becoming an assassin to avenge him.
And also to get the hell-horse.
… now I will go back to
killing innocents for my new horsey thesis work