Bloody hell. 128 days, 20 hours of gameplay plus countless more of writing and admin, over 31,000 words, and over 27,000 pageviews.
That’s the sum of our work so far, and looking back on it, it’s pretty mindblowing. Thank you all so much for your support! Your likes and comments mean the world to us :)
On to the next 20!
My head swimming, I climb groggily to my feet. What the hell happened? My brain feels like it’s been hit by a mammoth and my mouth is full of wet ash. As my brain begins to drag itself back into concious thought, I try to take stock of my surroundings, only for me to realise I have no idea where I am. It’s dark and the sky is full of thunder and rain, drowning out any other sound. Flashes of lightning illuminate my path - a dirt road, fenced by rope, winding its way through steep, rocky hills. I press forward, desperate to find any signs of civilisation. Signposts direct me toward strangely named towns, one of which I choose at random, hoping against hope that it’s not too far away.
My path twists almost immediately, leading me into a dark, volcanic area, devoid of life save for small, foraging beasts, and withered and gnarled stems of dying bushes. I am starting to second-guess my choice of direction when the road opens out into a lush, green area of small hills and tall trees. The change in palette is not what takes my breath away, but rather the alien beauty of the area.
I don’t think I’m in Skyrim any more. I don’t know where this place is, but it’s not Skyrim. For the first time, I look down at myself.
Okay, someone needs to tell me what the hell is going on RIGHT NOW. I continue on my path and over the next hill and find a small, imperial style town. This comforts me greatly - any shred of the recognisable is something I will welcome fully.
I approach the first person I see, a guard, but he is no help at all, so I call him a shitcanoe
and continue into the town. In the town, I find an armourer who’s store is poorly guarded and lift any valuables I can get my hands on. I doubt I’ll be getting anywhere without building up some cash.
Fortunately, right next door to the armourer is another, to whom I sell the bulk of my stolen goods. That will probably lead to some awkwardness when it gets found out. Not wanting to be around when that happens, I leave the small town and head South, hoping to find a larger settlement and get some answers.
On the way, I am accosted by a small, leech-like creature that leaps and nips at my ankles. I raise my hands and burn it to death. On closer inspection it was not, as I had thought, a child, but a something called a Kwama Forager. Okay.
After a while, the landscape begins to change yet again, this time becoming wet, putrid, and swampy. Low moans judder through the pools and ferns, and I hasten towards them - anything is better than getting lost in this awful swamp. I wade through several pools and round a pile of slimy stone, then stop dead, staring directly at what was making those sounds.
Wow. It seems peaceful, though, so I do what any sane woman would. Climb up inside of it and pay someone to take me on a journey to a place I’ve never heard of.
I arrive at the strange town, and dismount from what the owner tells me is a Silt Strider. I can think of a few better names, going from the smells I’ve experienced in the last hour. Brushing bug stank off my pauldrons, I venture forth into this strange town, hoping to find someone who can explain how I passed out in Skyrim and woke up in… well, wherever here is.
In the town, I head to the nearest shop and offload the remainder of my stolen goods, which ends up giving me a nice amount of gold. Armed with this new fortune, I head to the mages guild, hoping to find someone familiar with whatever bizarre magical shit has happened to me; I might be able to buy some answers and get out of this place.
Unfortunately, all the mages guild holds is a mushroom-obsessed Khajiit and a lady who improves my ability to burn things. I can see why the guild didn’t catch on back home. Eventually I find a shirtless man who tells me that I’m in Morrowind, and that he’s head of the Blades here. He also says that the Emperor wants me to join him and do whatever he says.
I think he may be insane.
Not wanting to drive him into a psychotic fit, I play along and he orders me to get some information about an evil house from a guy called Hasfat Antibiotics or something. Yep, plenty of sanity in this room.
Surprisingly, Hasfat is a real person, and he seems to take the shirtless man’s demands in stride, asking me to retrieve a trinket from a local Dwemer ruin in return for whatever info the topless tard wants. I agree, if only to get on this guy’s good side - maybe I can get some information for myself, too.
The Dwemer ruin is a short hike away, and it’s less than welcoming.
The interior cut deep down into the earth, dimly lit, and full of bandits. Wonderful.
I burn my way down, through the levels, to the bottom. Exhausted by fighting and the stress of not knowing where the fuck I am, I lean against a wall for a couple of minutes to get my breath back. Minutes turn into hours, and I’m fast asleep.
Oh fuck. After some panicked flailing that expends all my magicka and most of my health, I manage to kill this mysterious aggressor, but it’s a near thing. Going over his corpse, I discover that he is an assassin from the Dark Brotherhood! Of all the bloody things that could have followed me here, it had to be the fucking Dark Brotherhood.
I move on, wanting to put as much distance between that corpse and myself as I can. Eventually I make my way into something called the Blood Gallery. Wow, that’s definitely a place I want to be.
In the Blood Gallery, I meet a ghost. No, really. I step forward, ready for anything, hoping it’s friendly.
Turns out, no. No it’s not.
The initial blast sends me flying backwards into a wall, burning me horribly and breaking my skull. I struggle to stay alert, to rise and fight, but the darkness slips over me, and I am gone.