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23rd

By 23rd,
in [Don't Starve] Art, Music & Lore

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HoneyHam

HoneyHam

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She was rewarded for her part in stopping Fenrir by being sent to a physical Valhalla. She could be either dead or alive, that's left up to the reader.

SHE MUST BE DEAD ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ SLOW PAINFUL GORY DEATH 

What ever happened to my SPESHUL request about Venus and the hamburger?

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23rd

23rd

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SHE MUST BE DEAD ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ SLOW PAINFUL GORY DEATH 

What ever happened to my SPESHUL request about Venus and the hamburger?

Oh hey, I forgot all about that.. I think I'd rather just give you a scrap.

 

Now I'm all tempted to write about the jukebox.

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Percival

Percival

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The ragtime video.

 

 

 

I did that. There a differences between me and TooMuchHoneyHam.

 

For example, one of us loves calling a servant to speak all of the sadistic and creepy things we say, and one of us a a voodoo homunculus.

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23rd

23rd

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You guys seem mostly on board, awesome. Now vote on a character.

 

The Warrior

 

Name: Moglash gro-Daeboz

 

Race: Orc / Orsimer

 

Backstory: Born 4E 111, Moglash is everything the modern Orc strives to be. He slew his father and became chieftan of his stronghold at an early age, protecting it from any and all threats that plagued them. He's wrestled bears, traded blows with trolls and even held his own against several werewolves. The problem? Nobody, not even his own sons, could best him in combat, and because of this he could never find an honorable death. Eventually he saw fit to banish himself, wandering in search of a fine death. He found it in the form of a mighty dragon. After a grueling fight that lasted three days, both him and his scaly combatant succumbed to their injuries and died.

 

Instead of being sent to the Ashpit with Malacath, Moglash found himself reincarnated at the peak of his youth, escaping from Helgen as it burned to the ground. He doesn't know why he was sent back to Nirn, but he is sure Malacath intends for a lot more bloodshed.

 

Character quote: "There's nothing more invigorating than the feeling of reverberations when my mace lands the killing blow."

 

 

The Mage

 

Name: Willion Apnir

 

Race: High Elf / Altmer

 

Backstory: In the Summurset Isles, a small percent of the Altmer population is known as the "Outer Royals." The Third Aldmeri Dominion isolates the Outer Royals from the rest of the Society, brainwashing them and crushing their sense of individuality under the guise of an all-powerful, inescapable ruler known as Greatfather. Even the slightest expression of personal thought or emotion that doesn't fall in line with Greatfather's dogma will have an Outer Royal incinerated, their very existence erased from all historical documents in the Summurset Isles. When an Outer Royal is sufficiently broken in and can not think for themselves they ascend to the position of Inner Royal, where they rule over the Third Aldmeri Dominion by way of puppet leaders.

 

Willion had recently joined up with a supposedly former member of the Thalmor saying she was from a resistance effort in Summurset known as The Yellowhand. In a moment of intense paranoia (how could a resistance effort possibly operate within Summurset?) he killed her, fleeing into the wilds of Skyrim.

 

Character quote: "I'm still trying to process how the Nords can defy the Thalmor so openly. I keep thinking it's all a grand trick that ends with me sitting in a torture chamber the second I let my guard down."

 

 

The Thief

 

Name: Sivgoth Oakthorn

 

Race: Wood Elf / Bosmer

 

Backstory: Riften. Home of the Thieves Guild, den of iniquity. And oh, the forests! Sure, none of the trees got up and moved, but it was here that Sivgoth felt at home. The Guild kept his pockets stuffed with coin, the Jarl supplied him with a house that opened up into the lake for taking care of some Skooma dealers, and life was good. Sure, he may have had to flee Valenwood to avoid the Thalmor's Nazi-esque purges, and he may never see his family again or even know if they're alive, but that was all in the past!

 

Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure if that was why he fled Valenwood. It was just one of several memories that played out in his head when everything got quiet.

 

Maybe that last corpse he ate was screwing with his head. The hagraven didn't even taste that good.

 

Character quote: "I hope you didn't just give me a poison by mistake, Ingun. Something messed up is happening here."

 

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23rd

23rd

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If you're reading this and saying "I came here to read stories about Don't Starve. Skyrim is for casuals and mountain climbing horses!" then this is the link for you!

 

Treason

Prologue: Into the wild

 

"Come on Willion! We're almost to Skyrim!" Willion forced his legs to move, trying to ignore the pain of the chilly winds against his face. Every step he took made his bones hurt, and the mere act of running flooded him with exhaustion. They used to tell him he lived in luxury, that he couldn't imagine what living in squalor was like.. but how could that be true when every bone in his body screamed otherwise?

 

But Angfire, sweet Angfire. She was here to take him away from it all, to help him escape the stern gaze of Greatfather. As Willion's boots sunk into the snow he reflected on the past month of his life, or what he assumed had been a month. The journal he'd bought in the Low District, the documents he'd been saving from incineration, the book that Angfire left behind the brick foundation of his home to contact him. And now he was escaping with a member of the Yellowhand, the revolutionaries who Inner Royals didn't dare to acknowledge. The way she smiled, the life she promised him.. it was all..

 

..perfect.

 

The smell of burning skin filled the air as Willion dropped the charred body he was holding into the snow, watching it melt where Angfire's skin landed. His chest heaved as he ran, fighting against the freezing cold feeling of snow melting inside his boots. By the time night came, Willion found himself out of breath and surrounded by green foliage. Completely lost.. in Skyrim.. a wide smile spread over Willion's face as he collapsed to his knees, looking towards the sky.

 

Maybe there had been a Yellowhand, working within Summurset to bring the Third Aldmeri Dominion to its end. Or maybe Angfire was one of the Thalmor's well trained Compliance Enforcers luring Willion into a trap. But now, however, it didn't matter. What mattered was that Willion was lost in a foreign land. If he had no idea where he was, the Thalmor wouldn't either. For the first time in his life, Willion Apnir was free.

 

Willion let his body drop to the ground, giving in to his inevitable vertigo. Before drifting off to sleep, he saw an incredible orange dragon soaring high overhead. A mighty roar blended into the ambiance of the night, punctuating the moment the refugee mage fell into unconsciousness.

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23rd

23rd

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Actually, here's something to hold you guys over.

 

Treason

Part 1: Road to Riften

Chapter 1: Vilemyr Inn

 

When Willion woke up in a bed, his first instinct was to panic. Had he already been captured and brought back? Was it truly possible that no matter where Willion went, they would be able to find him? If he was still capable of it, he would have openly sobbed then and there. Instead, he pulled his legs into his chest, shuddering as he leaned against the wall. Yet as his morning weariness began to fade, the mage noticed several things.

 
If this was a prison cell, it was odd that they'd put him in a room without a door. There was a wardrobe, chest, even a nightstand with two books next to him. The second thing he noticed were the smells that came wafting in. He could smell the heavenly aromas of cooked venison, grilled leeks.. even the distinctive scent of mead. Salivating, Willion was surprised to find his feet carrying him out past the confines of his room.
 
He stepped into a rectangular hall about four times the size of his room, a contained fire stretching across the middle of the floor. Around him were Nords, a species of man he'd never imagined he'd see in his lifetime. One sung songs of merriment, others around him swinging back flagons filled with ale and joining along in their inebriated state. "There you are! Thought you'd never wake up after the way I found you."
 
Willion's shoulders jerked back. He must have looked absolutely terrified, since the Nord who'd spoken raised his hands as though to put the paranoid Altmer at ease. "Hey there, I'm not gonna hurt you. My name's Wilhelm, a friend of mine found you passed out in the woods and brought you here to rest up." Willion was still too taken aback by everything that was going on to speak, his eyes darting around as he tried to take in what was around him properly. Wilhelm offered an awkward smile, walking over towards the innkeeper's desk near the back of the inn. "Right.. well, stranger, I assume you must be hungry. Here, it's on the house." Wilhelm came back to where Willion was sitting carrying a wooden plate and flagon, setting them on the stones near the fire in front of him. Cautiously, Willion got up, grabbing both before sitting back down again. For the first time since he'd woken up, he found his voice. "Thank you.." Wilhelm just smiled, making his way back towards his desk and calling over his shoulder. "Just let me know if you need anything else."
 
The food and mead, like every other thing that had happened this morning, was more than Willion's senses could handle right away. Not even on holidays in Summurset had he tasted meat this tender or mead this sweet. The food was gone in seconds, and as he was finishing off the wine a thought occurred to him. Had the Dominion even been using food as a way to control him and the rest of the Outer Party? He was wary of many of the things the Dominion did to their own people, but he had never even considered that they'd fed him low-grade food to keep him docile. After staring at his flagon for several minutes, Willion got up and headed towards the innkeeper's desk. "Where do you brew this?"
 
Wilhelm looked up from his ledgers, taking a moment to process the question. With a smile, he answered. "Riften! You'll find the Black-Briar meadery down there. Finest mead in Skyrim; I'm glad you liked it, friend!" Before Willion even needed to ask, Wilhelm handed him a rolled up map of The Rift. Opening it, Willion could see various white icons pointing out where towns, farms and even something called Standing Stones were in the Rift. Near the lower right corner of the map was a large black symbol of two swords crossed over each other, "Riften" etched in ink just above them. It looked like quite a walk.
 
Willion felt bad that he couldn't repay the Nord for his kindness, until he felt something poke against his side. Reaching in, his fingers brushed against a small ruby. Angfire had given him that ruby when they crossed the border.. it should have been a good memory, but still it made him hesitate. Pulling the ruby from his robes, Willion dropped the gemstone on the desk in front of him. "Thank you for your hospitality, Wilhelm."
 
-
 
Willion left the inn, shielding his eyes from the bright sun in the sky above him. Unrolling the map, the mage took another look at the winding path from Ivarstead to Riften, stepping onto the cobble road in front of him. He was less sure than ever about what would await him, but he was excited for the journey ahead.
Edited by 23rd
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