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Skyrim deaths 1

Without killing people, finding enough money to get by is interesting.  Especially with the mod I got which makes eating, drinking, and sleeping necessary and also makes the lighting much more realistic.  With eating and lodging as well as shiny new robes and needing to bribe bandits to make them stop harming townsfolk, I had to find some form of income.  Picking pockets is great.  Just a few gold here and there as I can't sell stolen goods, but I have no weapons to buy, no armor to repair, very few spells to keep up on, just sustenance and enough money to make the world a better place.  Picking pockets in town is bad.  I found that out pretty quickly but served my time in jail.

I was rescuing a young girl.  She was guarded by some occult worshipers of some kind or another.  I'm not quite sure of their origins and history yet, but I did find something very interesting...  One of them was called a "briarheart shaman."  An intense name for sure.  I was picking his pocket as I passed through.  He had some gold, a mace, and an herb called a briarheart.

I swipe the gold, swipe the herb, I'm getting good at this!

The shaman's chest explodes in a bloody mess and he falls to the ground, eyes rolled back into his skull.

I don't even know what to think.

I look down at the corpse of the briarheart shaman.  I look to the briarheart in my hand.  Briar.  HEART.

... I have to say it:




The girl is shocked.  I doubt she caught the movie reference.  We sneak out to the roof.  I take her into my arms and cast "feather fall."  The sheer face of the tower I climbed alone shines in the moonlight as we descend gracefully together, the wind whipping our faces.  The nameless guards of the tower continue their rounds as I claim my reward many miles away.  Perhaps one of them has found their shaman heartless on the floor by now.  I buy myself some clothes that aren't covered in blood.

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