» Wed Mar 30, 2011 3:06 am
Thoughts - A couple posts I made on other threads:
As far back as she can remember, she heard them whisper in her dreams, but, she knew not the meaning of the dragon's tongue. These dreams haunted her, and it seemed that her need to learn of what the dragons spoke had been burned into her very soul.
Cooking:
My character, Sibyl is walking from one town to another, perhaps to address a given quest.
She is following along a rushing river. The sun is a few fingers from setting, so time to set up a camp.
Using her crafting skills, a lean-to is established, and her bedroll placed inside. A small campfire is started.
Sibyl wanders to the river's edge and sees fish swimming. After catching a couple, she uses her dagger to "harvest" product, and cooks it over her campfire. As the hot embers glow, a small orange spark is spit from the burning wood. An ear of corn is placed to roast close to the embers. The smell of the smoke and the cooking food intensifies her hunger. She begins to salivate in anticiipation.
Stars begin to twinkle in the dusk.
Crickets are chirping, and an owl has started it's nightly call. The sounds of the small waves from the river relax her.
While sitting on a log, close to the fire, Sibyl savors the taste of the fish and the roasted, buttered corn. This is done while sipping the sweetness of honeywine from a horn. The warmth the drink produces inside her causes a small shiver, as it chases away a chill. Coolness is starting to penetrate the night.
It is getting darker now, and the fire is banked just a little. A few more sips of mead and the bedroll beckons her.
With her staff and dagger nearby, it is time to dream.
Will the dragons speak again this night?
Life is good, sometimes.
Crafting:
A few snowflakes landed on Sibyl's nose, and tickeled her. She looked up at the sky and knew the weather was going to get colder. As she examined the wolf tracks in the snow, she knew It was time to collect some fur and make some warm weather gear.
She returned to her campsite. The embers of the small fire were a nice warm red glow, and she warmed her bare hands. She know she needed some gloves, Glancing over at her lean-to, Sibyl evaluated the equipment available for making traps. She hoped it was enough.
As Sibyl contemplated, sipping honeywine from a horn, a glowing cinder popped from the flames, landed in the snow, and promptly cooled with a faint sizzle. A slight shift in the direction of a light breeze caused smoke to drift toward her face. Her eyes immediately watered. As she brushed her tears away, Sibyl moved out of the offending smoke and collected her traps, bow and dagger.
It was time to hunt...
I would love to "harvest" items like fur in the game and manufacture something useful, like gloves, using developing crafting skills and tools.
In most Viking homes there was a loom and linen was produced. I hope we have something like that. Skyrim crafting has a lot of potential.