With a Dragonshout: he cried Thalmor, more, more.

Hidey-ho, fellow readers!

Monday came far too quickly, so here's today's post.  I finalize (for now) some of my home renovations, and then finally go check up on Delphine.  Poor gal's been waiting on me forever to go see what she wanted to do 'bout them dragons coming back and being all dragon-y up in everybody's face. Which is quite an important task, to be sure.

Meanwhile, at home:

I unload some stuff at the ol' Homestead, 'cause its getting cumbersome and tiresome to haul everything around all the time.  Recent additions are mostly located in my trophy room, which isn't creepy at all.

He WAS fuzzy, wasn't he.

Not so happy now, aren't you mr. bear!  Took that smug grin off his face.  Shortly after, I heard a further rustling outside my bedroom window; killing off the bandits brought the attention of some wolves, who were warded off by them, I guess.  Such a weird progression, but whatever.  I've taken it upon myself to turn a bad situation (i.e. wolves) into a good one instead (i.e. decor.)

"Yes Virginia, you are a stuffed animal."

Lydia's taken to her job as Steward of Lakeview Manor well; in that she's constantly complaining about how I'm never there, and just use her to carry my gear around.  Whatever.  AND she hovers around my bed.  It's kind of unsettling.

Oh Lydia...

Awkward.  So I figure Delphine's had enough time to figure what is up with all them dragons; might as well head on over to Riftwood.  Riftwood's the first actual town you encounter following the sacking of Helgen by that dragon, and the whole avoiding being executed bit.  Fun times!  Except this is how I'm greeted in Riftwood.

'Bout to ask him what he and Batman have in common right now.

I'd be lying if I said I was expecting better from a villager whom I've saved from dragons and other monsters, but honestly in Skyrim, ALL the children are horrible.  I mean it, children in this game they are absolutely despicable and spoiled.  I can't wait to adopt two rotten kids of my own.  I'm not kidding, that is something I can do.

Delphine's got her shit together though, and gives me her best-laid plan: I am to infiltrate the Thalmor Embassy's fancy cocktail party, and find out what they know about the dragons.  Delphine suspects them to being behind the whole ordeal, because the Thalmor are kind of dicks.  So its an assumption, but a plausible one, at the least. Problem is, I don't fit the bill, visually.  Being dressed in sabretoothed cat furs is a social faux-pas or something.  So I'll have to meet up with her friend in Solitude and have him smuggle in my gear.  Ok, whatever.  TO SOLITUDE!

Solitude: pretty happenin' place, where the hottest bar (see: ONLY bar) is the Winking Skeever.  Gross.

I'm looking for a guy named Malborn; so he can take everything I will need at the embassy and have it smuggled in.  This also means my actual armor and stuff.  Thankfully I don't need weapons, but I'd at least like my armor available to me when I attempt this.  So I go about giving Malborn everything I'll need, much to the displeasure of the local barflies.

Your Thu'um is showin'.  BEEFCAAAAAAAAAAAAKE.

I didn't realize right away that giving my armor to be stashed meant I was gonna be nude; so I hoof it back to my home, and grab some fancy clothes, hopefully they'll be swanky enough for the party.

These belonged to a vampire; they're chic and fashion-savvy, right?  Vile's helm is also featured.

There.  Now my lil'dragonborn isn't flappin' around all willy nilly.  Willy.  Penis.  Enough hit-whoring.  Delphine told me to meet up with her outside Solitude when I was ready, so now that I'm clothed, lets get this over with.

Jeez, you're no fashion plate yourself, lady.

Way to be judgemental about my looks, Delphine.  To be honest, the vampire's duds I stole look WAY more fancy than this oven-mitt of an outfit she has me wearing.  I don't care that they ARE called Party Clothes.  But whatever FINE.  I'll put them on.

...

What a bitch.  Last of your order?  GOOD.  I hope you die a swift and degrading death.  Like you get killed by a beggar or something.  Or a scared mule.  Whatever, party time.

Greetings, I am Ge'ek Outt Dragonpuncher, the Dragonborn... dragon... puncher?

Well Malborn & Delphine came through, at least.  Everybody acts as if I'm supposed to be here.  So; time to check this party out.

♫ Party people in the embassy, tonight; gonna have a real alright time. ♫

Wow.  Bumpin'.  Malborn wants me to cause a commotion, so I can steal away into the kitchens with him.  How romantic!  He doesn't tell me how to get that done though.  Because he's useless to me.  So; I try bugging a guard, the time-ol' classic move.

And I'm not supposed to be fed after midnight.  Rules Schmules.

Thankfully the chap next to the guard was more than willing to help out if bribed with wine.  Of which Malborn had more than ample supply.  The dude proceeds to then get drunk, and offer an absolutely condescending toast to the host, invoking prostitution and slave trading, because classy.  Malborn's since smuggled me into the kitchen's larder, where my gear awaits.  He tells me I should make for Elenwen's study, as this is where the information I'm looking for would probably be; he also tells me to be quiet, and sneak around if possible.

WHO GOES THERE!? *FWOOSH FWOOSH FWOOSH*

It wasn't possible.  I mean the SECOND I step out of the larder, guards get all suspicious, and I gotta fight my way out.  While on fire.  OK.  A little roundabout inside, I'm lead down a corridor that tells me I have to exit the main hall, and cross the embassy courtyard to get to the good stuff.

Sure; no sweat.  That's a 20 yard dash, tops.  No biggie.

Looks simple enough; right?

DEAAAAAAAAAATH.

IT NEVER IS.  Seems that immediately around the corner, there's a pesky Thalmor mage, and he's quite potent.  So; lets try this again.

STEALTH MODE: attempted.

Stealth isn't my strong suit.  In fact, because I'm wearing heavy armor it makes me super noisy and not stealthy at all.  However I had juuuuuuust enough stealth to get rid of the initial guard who spent his merry time knifing me in the ribs.  Then I met this guy.

Behold THIS!

Frost Atronachs.  OK Game, I see you're bringing the heat as it were; fine.  I manage to get rid of the evil giant ice cube and into Elenwen's Solar.  Which is a fancy word for apartment, in this case.  An apartment filled with evil wizards!

OOH! Right in the Ley Lines!

These guys were discussing something about spies in Winterhold or whatever; I was far too busy rushing them to care about their political dalliances at this point.  Let's see if he had anything of worth on him.

BERKED PATERDERS. ERM NERM NERM NERM.  

Interrogation chamber key?  Good to know!  I find a whole mess of documents incriminating Elenwen in various plots to overthrow Skyrim's current ruling class, and install puppet governments in their stead, but that's not interesting.  Baked potatoes however, ARE.

Also secret rape-dungeons within embassies.  I feel like I'm in a Tom Clancy novel!  What could be in store for me down there!?

They better be on Dantooine, kid.

Poor guy.  All mal-nourished and having absolutely nothing to do with either Dragons OR Delphine.  I let'im go, because I'm Good Guy Dragonborn over here, where he tells me we have to go crawling down the abandoned mineshaft that they use for corpse-dumping.  Brilliant.

Good luck on ye, random tortured dude.

I feel a bit bad for letting him loose like that, without a shirt or shoes, or a weapon of some sort; there was a cave troll down there, and he kinda ran for cover while I took care of it. Some people just aren't cut out for this hero-work!

Next time on Geeking out in Skyrim: Delphine makes sense of the information I got her!