» Tue Dec 13, 2016 12:10 pm Hi.
Since I′m new here, I won′t presume to be responsible for keeping that thread. If someone comes to create another topic with all the links and stuff, moderators can please feel free to merge the threads, in case you feel it′s necessary.
edit - I can post links now, I couldn′t before for whatever reason, so here goes a useful description of what is http://graveyard.wikia.com/wiki/Dead_is_Dead:_A_gaming_playstyle_choice and why it′s fun to play it.
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Bendtyn Arnesian
Breton - Expert
"Pacifier" Spellsword
Build:
Spoiler
Main Perk Trees: Two-Handed, Heavy Armor (early)/Light Armor(late), Illusion -> Fill up relevant perks as soon as available and save Perk Points for near opportunities.
Semi Perk Trees: Alteration, Restoration, Sneak, Smithing -> Fill up relevant perks with spare Points.
Minor Perk Trees: Conjuration, One-handed/Archery -> Situational Point investment throughout the game.
Late Perk Trees: Enchanting, Pickpocket -> Manage Points from Legendary Skills and late level ups.
Stats:
Until level 25 - 3 x health, 2 x stamina, 1 x magicka
From then on - 2 x health, 1 x stamina, 3 x magicka
-Very straight-forward build. You sneak with muffle while you can, then tank whoever is left. If they′re too many, you calm some weaker ones. Make use of Novice Hood found in Helgen and whatever other equip you might find for extra mana early.
-Alteration for all the magic resitance and cheaper magical armor. Restoration for healing obviously, but also for extra mana regen and stamina. I don′t usually go the heavy side of Smithing, since I′ll change for light armor later and Steel-Plate stuff is good enough.
-Conjuration perks might help mid-game in order to keep the mana consumption at bay and still have the support of relevant summons. One-handed and archery might help in case you decide to go Dark Brotherhood early.
-Enchanting is always good, but it′s better after you already disenchanted stuff and recharged weapons all the way to level 60. Until then, I think it′s not really worth it. And if you get there too soon, it might take the fun out of looting. Pickpocket can increase your Carry weight in 100 at level 50, so it′s always nice if you have nothing else to do with your points.
#1
Spoiler
After witnessing in terror his parents′ small property burn to cold, wet ashes in the outskirts of Wayrest, taking away his family, his past and what he always thought was his future, Bendtyn set out from High Rock with a graveyard for a heart and three objectives in mind: to kill as many pirates as he could possibly find, to fulfill his house′s ancestor dream of conquering and mapping the Blackreach, and to make a false Empire - that charges for a protection that′s never delivered - bleed to an inevitable death.
Equipped more with courage than magic, more hunger than weapons and only a name to guide him through the unforgiving Alikir, the Last Arnesian arrives in Skingrad chasing rumours of Sinderion, only to be met with the enraging news that the alchemist would most likely be found in Skyrim, meaning his journey could have been that much shorter. He should have known the Altmer would chase the Blackreach. Everyone does.
After drowning the rage in ale, Arnesian makes friends with Viliryn - a very old and and even drunker Dunmer conjurer - and decides to remain and build up his strenght and finances for a while. The Dunmer offered him a position as a steward of his suprisingly real manor, and started teaching him the basics of summoning. Unfortunately, Viliryn was indeed very, very drunk way too often, including during lessons, which eventually led to a rather predictable disaster. The old mer somehow forgot he had conjured a flamed atronach in the basemant and attacked it with a dagger.
Bendtyn was reading The Lusty Argonian Maid v.1 when he heard the comotion, "Oblivion is attacking again!!The Seal!!The Seal is brokenaargg..uh", but it was over in a matter of seconds. As he tried to peek down the basemant, a fireball flew past his nose, and he started to run. The atronach would proceed to burn down most of the house before some city guard managed to put it down, and Brendtyn Arnesian would proceed to become wanted for murder.
The clearly cursed man roamed, always torwards Skyrim. He never realised when he crossed the border. He avoided the main settlements and asked around for Sinderion or the Blackreach on the road. At some point in 201 4E, starved and without any easy game to hunt, he turned to mining in a very small community. Darkwater Crossing. Not an entire day had passed between his talk with Verner and his curse striking again. First there was talk of rebels. Then there was talk of Imperials. And then he was on his way to lose his head.
#2
Spoiler
Fire, fire, and fire! Thrice cursed was The Last Arnesian. And still...was surviving the ordeals meant to be part of his suffering? Was he meant to live on in order to bring the flames upon the rest of the world? How could he survive a dragon when so many trained and tougher soldiers had fallen so quickly?
As his mind let go of the horror, a flick of hope tugs at his attention. "He′s not on the list, captain". He′s not a murderer, he′s just cursed. They should have killed him, but now they′re not even looking for him. Suddenly, all of Ralof′s talk about a Skyrim free from the Empire′s grasp started to smell like home, and so he paid closer attention. It all sounded familiar at first - a weak empire dreaming of longevity at the expense of its citizens - until the Nord started going on about Talos, Dunmers, Khajiits and Argonians. What did these people have to do with the Empire′s weakness and villany? How could the Nords rebel simply because they can no longer openly worship Talos, when their pantheon doesn′t include Lorkhan himself?
About Sinderion and the Blackreach, Ralof had nothing. He pointed to an Altmer by the name of Nurellion living in Windhelm, told Bendtyn he should join the Stormcloaks and invited him to his sister′s house. The Breton tagged along for now, thankful for the opportunity to rest. 17th of the Last Seed, the day the Last Arnesian was born once more, cursed once again.
After running errands in exchange for some coin, Bendtyn sets out to Whiterun in order to warn the King, or "Jarl", about the return of the dragons. The city is busy and welcoming, and soon the Breton finds himself doing small chores for sustainance. The Jarl seemed pleased enough with Arnesian′s initiative and also gives him small jobs and useful rewards. There′s no word to be heard about Sinderion or the Blackreach, and Bendt enlists in the Companions hopeful to get in contact with travelers and distant news.
The following next days would eventually become a mess in the Last Arnesian′s memory, but one thing would always stand out - his curse had a name! He was Dragonborn. He was touched by Akatosh, for all the good that done to him. And some greybeards were to teach him how to control his curse - sounded unlikely. Maybe out of fear, maybe out of wisdom, the Breton took his time to get used to his new life before chasing down echoes. He hoarded respect among the Companions, fought beasts and bandits for cash, recovered pieces of the famed Wuuthrad, and eventually even managed to save enough coin to get himself a small house in the Plains District. He even had a household now, with the pleasant Jarl′s niece being sworn to his service. Days were surely busy in Whiterun, and the future started to look a little less ominous.
23rd of Last Seed, Bendtyn arrives at Jorrvaskr looking for work, and Aela points him to Skjor. "I have something different planned for you. Meet me at the Underforge tonight". Arnesian looked into those silvery eyes and thought he could a witness glimpse of doom and cold things to come. He shivered.
#3
The following account covers the last known hours of Bendtyn Arnesian, who was supposed to save the world.
Spoiler
Anxious but determined, Bendtyn spends the entire day with Farengar talking about magic, dragons and learning much about Illusion. The Court Wizard points him to a dunmer called Drevis Neloren, in the College of Winterhold. It′s a wonder what a man can learn from a sober, however arrogant, teacher.
On his way down the steps from the Cloud District, as he blankly let himself be involved by the withered image of the "Kynareth′s gift" in the center of the plaza and the scent of the Nightshade brought by the brisk wind, Heimskr′s words assaulted his senses.
"Old fool" he thought.
He wondered what Tiber Septim would think of the man, of these ideas of worship and divinity of himself. That was certainly not what elevated him. He wasn′t the Talos of Atmora because he sought praise or adoration. The great idea behind Talos is not divinity, but human responsibility. He defended, he united, and (at least in that the priest got it right) he loved. What would he think of those who use his name to torn his life′s work?
The Last Arnesian said his goodbyes to Lydia and entered the Underforge. He could never have dreamt what would come to follow, nor could he bear to remember later.
But he chose to be what he now was, and so now he had his own little war to wage. The Silver Hand must fall if he was to live, and so they shall.
His time training archery techniques with the bosmer Faendal at Riverwood paid off. Bendtyn and Aella descended upon the Silver Hand like an invisible sudden death, and yet nimble as they were, it was not enough to save Skjor. Bendtyn did what he could to learn the lesson from his fallen Shield-Brother.
As they looked east down the hills outside Gallows Rock, Bendtyn and Aella planned their next moves. She was going to gather intel, while he would strike them in the heart. He only had a small errand to run before heading to Orotheim. Nurelion.
The breton had barely left Mara′s Eye Pond behind when his curse caught up with him, and it came with increasing intensity. First he heard the howling, then a long silence, and then the pack was snapping at him. He calmed one, dealt with the others and tought he was safe for a few seconds. A cave bear begged to differ.
Spilling Mana Potion everywhere while he ran, Bendtyn finally managed to tranquilize the bear, and he thought he was safe for a few seconds. A dragon begged to differ.
"Bloody curse" he thought as he fled. But the dragon wouldn′t give up. So he ran, and he shot arrows, and he ran, and he drank potions, and he found the bear again. The bear was pissed. Which turned out to not be great news for his curse.
Skillfully, Bendtyn drank an insivibility potion among some bushes when the dragon landed. The pissed murderous bear instantly turned to the lizard and the beasts dueled in a bout of fire and fury. As the bleeding dragon disposed of the furry corpse, its last scaly thought ran through its neck, for the next second it was parted.
The Dragonborn finally made it to Windhelm, exhausted and bleeding. To greet him, xenophobia, squalor and cold snowy winds. "A haven of intolerance" a dunmer described. On closer inspection, most of the city was fairly tolerant, at least as far as a Breton could spot it. But it was indeed a safe place for some few isolated individuals to act in the most abominable ways without any repercusion. Such thing couldn′t be sustainable. Tired, he turned his thoughts to himself and his quest for the Alchemist.
In the White Phial, he found the elderly Nurelion, grumpy and grouchy and wise. He talked about Sinderion a good deal, great admirer, but with little to no knowledge of his personal affairs. The old mer pointed him towards the ever recurrent College of Winterhold, and towards the Forsaken Cave, which could be the tomb of an ancient alchemist named Curalmir. There was always the chance that Sinderion could also be after the White Phial, or that the Forsaken Cave could be an entrance to the forsaken Blackreach.
Bendtyn made it west towards the cave. As he admired the domes of some dwemer ruins to the south of the road, a thief was unwise enough to crossed his path.
Forsaken cave was turning out to be an complete disapointment. No sign of Sinderion and the White Phial was broken. But as he opened a quite regular chest, he found a strangely beautiful orb.
"A new hand touches the beacon." He felt destiny run through his spine. "Listen mortal, hear me and obey. A foul darkness has seeped into my temple, a darkness you will destroy. Return my Beacon to Mt. Kilkreath, and I shall make you the instrument of my cleansing light."
After heading back to deliver the broken phial, Arnesian took a carriage back to Whiterun to fetch Lydia. After a walk around the market, they made it west and north towards Orotheim.
In the middle of a river southeast of the cave sat an island, and on it a body. Mer, probably, and with a huge stack of Nirnroots coming out of his pocket. Dead, certainly. Bendtyn froze.
"It′s a dunmer" said Lydia, and he could breath again.
Bendtyn would proceed to meet his fate in Mt. Kilkreath.
He had developed an addiction to adrenaline and had to keep pushing himself further and further, so he tried to take on Malkoran at level 15. He was caught by a blizzard right in the face. That world probably ended.
RIP
I′m probably lucky real me doesn′t have access to cool swords and angry vampires.
