Monday, 3 March 2014

Memoirs of a Dragonborn - Log 6

          Log 6

          Met up with the hippy historian at his buried ruins this evening. He seems to know quite a lot about old antiquity things so I let him take a look at the scimitars. As we sat around the camp fire he started spouting off about some guy called Haknir, the nines dirty secret,  the death brand and his magic armour, which I didn't find any sign of. Apparently he was a Pirate King and completely bonkers so he had his crew buried with him. I thought they looked a bit pissed off. Anyhow, he was waving these scimitars about and telling me about how when used together, these cursed weapons of Haknirs imbue the wielder with the power of greyskull or something, when he started giving of a faint glow and the grin on his face started getting bigger and bigger. If his grin had got any cheesier  you could have rolled him down a hill. They have a tradition of doing that in Riften, anyway, I digress. The hippy was waving these things about and blabbering on so much that neither of us sore the lone injured whiterun guard come staggering out of the shadows, until the hippy with a dramatic articulation, came to the climax of his history lesson and...well let's just say it wasn't a cheese wheel that rolled and squelched down the track. After that we decided it was best if I took back the scimitars, packed up our things, went our own ways and never spoke of this night again.

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