Skyrim: When Good Guys Go Bad! Pt.3

   In our journey thus far, we've been chased, attacked, and called all manner of beastly creature by almost every race in Skyrim. If there's one thing all of the distrusting violent folk of Skyrim can agree on, is their loathing for one 'Valerius the Imperial of Cyrodil'. This didn't always seem to be the case the farther I moved away from Markarth as my crimes seemed to be much less evident, or at least less bothersome to the average explorer/citizen I met along my path into the wilds. Dragons, of course, know no bounds in their hatred for the Dragonborn, but I was used to that, so in that regard nothing really changed in relation to our large scaly claw-dragging "friends".

Not long after the encounter with my now deceased fellow Imperial troops, I'd come to expect that every person I'd see would probably have it in for me. It just so happens that I was again to be surprised by the fact that an unwary traveler had absolutely no problem with me whatsoever. I hadn't seen any lone non-aggressive travelers up to this point and had immediately drawn my weapon for an encounter, but had no negative interaction with this NPC at all. I approached, we sorta spoke (they had no dialogue tree) about nothing in particular, and then they went on their merry way.

   Now might be a good time to admit that, even though I'd decided to uninhibit my character from the conventions of proper Skyrim decency and societal etiquette, and I knew my save was still right there for me to pick up at any time, …I still felt guilty. I couldn't help it. You see, from the beginning of the game, from the moment we start out with our ride in the 'cart of the damned' into Helgen, it just all felt so realistic. Of course the amazing HD graphics were/are a huge part of it, with the way every NPC and creature physically moves and interacts with their surroundings, to the awesome dialogue we experience with and between the NPC's of the game. From the moment I first booted it up and had my first glimpse of Skyrim in the opening sequence, I wanted to believe in the reality of this world. It draws you in very quickly. I felt immediately a part of this story and became my character. 

I found that through all the opening sequences and action, I wanted to make realistic decisions. Even with a Dragon belching fire on the citizens of Helgen, I was living in this world within the first five minutes. And in the beginning, without knowing what's happening exactly, one might be surprised to know that I initially sided with the Stormcloaks. I was pissed that I was being sent to my death on the chopping block by those Imperial bastard's and felt a little like William Wallace from Braveheart! Even though there was one Imperial soldier whom tried to talk his commanding officer into at least postponing my execution, (thanks buddy! appreciate you trying!) I kept pressing buttons on my controller and hoping against hope that I could run away or do anything at all as my scripted trudge to the chopping block played out! I knew 'something' had to happen, some kind of intervention, but what!? …A real & fully formed flying HUGE Dragon, that's what!

How can this hard fantasy world, steeped in so much swords, sorcery, and mythical creatures of lore feel so real? I know I want it to feel realistic, and it doesn't hurt that I've always been a huge fanatic for anything fantasy based, but this was something else indeed. All of my high-fantasy wants and needs were already being met in the short first few minutes since I'd begun the game. It made me excited for the possibilites and what this game had in store for me next! 

The first time I'd felt this level of involvement, or investment with a game on such a deep level was when I'd played Deus Ex: The Conspiracy for PS2. Up until that point, I'd been invested in the 'story' of the games I'd played, but was always separated by the reality/fiction factor. I loved the 'feel' of the first Final Fantasy for instance, and for the time, it felt like I was playing out a medieval fantasy story but it never felt realistic. It was probably more about using your imagination to immerse yourself while playing a game in the old days than expecting to be wowed by any games 'realism'. But every situation I was put into in Deus Ex made me actually think that for the first time my choices would directly affect not only the game but the characters in it. And it made me care. I cared even though it still didn't feel real to me, at least not in an every day sense. This was still a video game, but felt much closer to a sort of "virtual reality" than what I had ever experienced before, and the game would change according to my actions and decisions. This was cool.

So after playing out the full opening sequence of Skyrim, and emerging from my escape of Helgen into the forested wilds with all of Skyrim open before me, I paused and stood there just taking it all in. I could almost smell the cold and frost in the air. Literally. (I guess it helped that it's already cold winter here!) I was most definitely invested in this world, and began my game making as close to real life decisions as possible! And it just stuck. Unlike in Morrowind and Oblivion, where some of the first skills I'd mastered were sneaking and lockpicking, in Skyrim it just felt different. The previous games were frickin' tough! A soul had to do what they had to do just to survive! Skyrim looked and felt real, more so than any game ever before. And so did the consequences of ones actions.

"Karthwasten".

An interesting name for sure, and one that I was curious to investigate. I had already decided there would be very tenuous limits to my level of barbarism. Basically, if an NPC was surly and pressed it, they would be meat. If they were friendly, they would live to digitally breathe another day. So with my narrow & unpredictable limits set, I followed my compass and ran directly into Karthwasten, and into a scripted confrontation between mercenaries and the residents of the town. I stood and listened, another part of the game I enjoy greatly, the NPC's dialogue with each other, and soon learned that [Possible Spoilers!] the mercs were keeping the citizens from working the mines.

In this alternate reality run through, I have to admit to being a little impatient. As I knew I was burning precious time in the real world, I was less inclined to take an interest in the stories and problems of the citizens of Skyrim and more interested in seeing how much trouble I could get into and then out of, and how much of my mischief the game would tolerate! I was just gonna do pretty much what I felt like. And that's just what I did next.

I listened intently if impatiently to their conversation, and gleaned that the mercs wouldn't budge and something about the citizens of Karthwasten doing I don't know what, maybe complaining futilely to I don't know who. Evening was setting in again in the game and late night in the real world for me, and I had a lot more trouble to try to get into so I approached the merc leader and spoke to him. He made his case in a snarky insulting manner, which was enough for me, so as soon as we were finished I smashed him square in the mug. Once, twice, and once more for good measure and he was done. His merc followers had heard and seen the commotion and charged me screaming like lunatics with weapons swinging. It was clear these jerks were never meant to put up much resistence and down they went. I looted and hooted, and wondered what the game itself would think of me not even trying to bring about some kind of peaceable resolution to the conflict between the two parties. But at least I HAD brought about a resolution, and I'm sure the citizens would be grateful! They could go back to the mine any time they please, no more mercs! This was not the case.

And this is where my impatience really kicked in. All the folks of Karthwasten were done with their day and were either headed home or to the local watering hole, with no interest whatsoever in my brutal solution to their predicament. I don't actually think they'd heard the battle, but it shouldn't matter anyway, I'd fixed everything for them! Valerius the Bloodletter had lent a helping hand even when he didn't need to! He could still do good, …well, chaotic good at least! So I ran to what appeared to be the leader in this town and opened dialogue, and got nothing. Pal, it's done. Don't be so down, your jerkcenary problem is over. He has no recognition of this at all, they still need to pay the mercs off. I cut the conversation short as I realize this yokel isn't the head honcho and decide to look in every house until I find him. But that was the problem, and the beginning of the downfall of a good portion of the residents of the peaceable town of Karthwasten.

The good citizens of Skyrim don't like it when you approach their front door after dark, find it locked, and then pick it to get in. They just don't like it much, and are actually rather forgiving of the affront, at least for the first 30 seconds or so. They want you out though, and understandably angry, want you out NOW. I on the other hand just wanted to talk. I'd done them a big favour and wanted them to acknowledge it. Or at least see what their reaction to my massacre of the mercs would be! Neither one of the people in the first, yes first, house would talk to me at all, and then produced daggers out of nowhere and attacked me. But instead of running out the front door like a decent barbarian, the Bloodletter took offence to his spurned help of these stupid ingrates and out came the sword. I don't know who these first two NPC's were, but they could take a lot of punishment before they thankfully gave up and cowered exclaiming they'd had enough. I took pity and let them be. And I know, I'm the jerk now.

On to the next house. Maybe the mayor or whomever was in this one, and even with my altercation with some residents, if I could open the dialogue and resolve this unasked for quest, they would forgive me! So as the previous house's residents were cowering in fear, I picked the lock on the second house and walked right in to their two story home. They weren't downstairs, so I charged right upstairs all wide eyed and hopeful that I'd get some kind of acknowledgement and forgiveness, but was greeted with surprise, anger and gleaming daggers. They attacked screaming angrily, I kept pressing the dialogue button in hopes they'd sheath their weapons and just talk, but no dice. This is the point I gave up trying to help them and just got tired of being hacked in the kisser! As I was about to retaliate, I'd no sooner drew my weapon and steadied myself, when I was attacked from behind by the residents of the first house who'd totally steeled their nerves, came to their neighbors aid and decided to give me the thrashing I so richly deserved!

I attacked… er… defended myself from the second houses occupants hoping they'd cower and give up, but it didn't quite turn out that way and they "expired". I turned and gave the two newcomers a 'tap' hoping they'd run away again, and they thankfully did! I followed them out the door watching them run away and decided just like that that I was done with this stupid town. I may have had to, erm… "defend" myself from a couple of the other folks of Karthwasten during my exit, but I can't remember for sure. I had more exploring to do and my mind was already on the road ahead! Can't win for losing!

So with my short and bloody visit to Karthwasten now behind me, I put my heavily armoured boots to the road, checked my map, and headed for Whiterun by way of Rorikstead! I was indeed to see some sights, actually more like glitches, but funny nonetheless!

Next up: The Road Most Traveled, Assassins, Giants, flying Mammoths and friendly faces! Oh, and not enough darn stamina!! (Or rather, Journey Of The Packrat!)

Thanks for reading! Until next time!