An Orc’s Life, Part 16: Dead Men’s Respite

Below is my narration for this entry.

 

Hello, Skyrim, it’s me Grawnk. I know we’ve had our differences in the past – I try to avoid adventure altogether, and you constantly sic bandits and wildlife on me every day. I think I understand why you do it though. I feel it must come from a place of tough love. You probably see this scrawny little orc making his way in the world and think to yourself, “I’m going to help that poor orc out by toughening him up the only way I know how: constant and unending harassment.” And believe me, it’s been a real gas, but do you think that for today only you could just tone it down a bit? I swear I won’t ask for anything ever again. Once I finish my impromptu prayer to the Skyrim gods, I laugh to myself. As if Skyrim is ever going to go easy on me. That’s alright though; I’m not as skinny or as helpless as I once was. I will make my way through Dead Men’s Respite, retrieve King Olaf’s Verse, and make it out alive. Skyrim be damned.

The time has come

Prepare to meet your doom, tomb.

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