» Fri May 27, 2011 6:56 pm
* When we last saw our hero. He was wanted in several cities for a laundry list of crimes. His face is now known by every guard in Skyrim. He is now entering Riften in the hopes that he is not recognized, so he can get some much needed rest.
"STOP RIGHT THERE CRIMINAL SCUM!"
Curses. So much for not being recognized. You draw your blade.
"Put down your weapon if you know what's good for you! We won't hesitate to kill you!" The guard shouts. You get the feeling he's not kidding. You throw down your weapon and surrender. Guards quickly move in and subdue you.
You are dragged to a holding cell to await trial in the morning. Not much to do but sleep. You suppose you could make an escape attempt. You did manage to "hide" one of your lockpicks, but the dungeons are swarming with guards, and you are unarmed. You decide it's not worth the risk.
You awaken to the sound of a guard tapping on the bars of your cell. Again, you are shackled, and dragged to the courtroom.
Still shackled, you are forced to your knees before the one who will be judging you. To your right are a panel of jurors. People you recognize from town. You never really paid much attention to them. If only you had tried to make friends with them, your situation wouldn't now look so bleak. You are flanked on either side by armed guards. The judge speaks.
"Criminal! You are charged with murder, petty theft, breaking and entering, and evasion of justice. How do you plea?"
"Not Guilty." You reply, knowing full well that you did those things listed.
"Do you have anything to say before justice is served?" The judge asks.
You try your best to explain your situation. You speak volumes about your character and your accomplishments. In the end, you know the jury decides your fate.
"Jury, do you have a verdict?" The judge asks.
The jury foreman stands. "We do your grace. We find the defendant guilty of all charges."
Damn! You know that guy too. Maybe if you had helped him clear his basemant of cave rats, he would have gone easier on you.
"Very well. I hereby sentence you to a fine of 30,000 septims. If you cannot afford to pay this fine, you can serve your sentence working the salt mines. By night you will sleep in a holding cell. Which do you choose?"
You don't have 30 septims to your name, much less 30,000. If only you didn't buy that flaming death hammer you wanted so badly. "I'm afraid I can't afford it your grace." You say, solemnly.
"Then your sentence is decided. One year in the salt mines. Case dismissed!"