Sunday, May 10, 2009

Day 4, Cont'd: My Kingdom for a Bed

I gotta say, it sucks leaving Anvil. I was just getting to know the place, its people, and its countryside. I even had an opportunity to buy a house. But that's gone, at least until I feel it's safe to return. After all, while it sucks to leave, it would suck even more to be skewered by psycho whore-thieves. Still, it's not without a heavy heart that I look back at the city that held all my dreams.




Ah well, I suppose it's for the best. I dunno what the rest of Cyrodiil is like, after all. What if there's a place that's so much better than the idyllic life of the Gold Coast? What if there's a place where the grass is actually green, or where huntable wildlife abounds? Besides, I'm a hunter NPC, not a settling down somewhere and do nothing NPC. I've got to roam far and wide, away from civilization where only nature knows. I'm not one for houses or fancy inns. Gimme a bedroll and I'll sleep under the stars!


A bedroll! Augh! I knew I forgot something. How am I going to make my way in the wild without a place to sleep? I may be a hunter, but I'm a lady hunter, and my tush needs somewhere comfy to rest for the night. Dammit, Norbert Lelles even had some in stock, but I didn't buy one because I thought I had a good, safe inn to stay at. How could I have been so unprepared? Curses!




I suppose I'll just have to trek to the Gottshaw. It's a ways up the road, but it's comfy and far enough from Anvil that by the time those thieves come looking for me, I'll be long gone.


I wander along the road in silence, grabbing to occasional ingredient until...




Oh hey, it's another inn. The Brina Cross, as the massive sign tells me. Well, it looks pretty big, and convenient, too.




I'm not far from Anvil yet, but... the thieves won't know I've skipped town until morning, most likely. I was supposed to meet them at eleven at Gweden Farm, east of the city. It'd take them most of the night to realize I'm not coming and search the local inns. By the time anyone got to the Brina Cross, it'd be dawn. Alright. In that case, I'll hit the hay early and leave before dawn.


Though I'm far enough from Anvil that I don't fear for my life, it's apparently not far enough the Fighter's Guild hasn't spread marketing material.






The inn's pretty crowded, but I push my way through the throngs of people to Christophe Marane, the barkeep, and plop down the ten septims for a night at the Cross, plus a bit more for a beefsteak, cheese, and a good strong drink.


I sit in the corner with my booze and hope no one bothers me. If I don't talk to anyone, I can't get into anymore trouble or start anymore quests.


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