I haven’t been posting much, because I’ve been playing Skyrim so much. I’ve had epic battles with dragons. I’ve taken an arrow in the knee and remained an adventurer. I’ve wondered if “arrow in the knee” was a reference to a certain filthy German phrase, fick dich doch ins Knie. (No, I’m not going to translate it for you.) I’ve destroyed the Dark Brotherhood. I’ve joined the Imperial Legion and crushed the rebellious Stormcloaks and negotiated a truce between the Legion and the Stormcloaks so that I could save the freaking world! And all of this with but the merest toss of my fabulous red hair.
Also, I have listened to Phritz’ tales of running his young half-orc through adventures. I am personally acquainted with this particular aspiring barbarian, which makes it extra entertaining. Phritz has a long history of this, being the one to initiate my own two offspring into the mysteries of tabletop RPG.
So I am greatly amused to read ChattyDM describing how he invented an RPG to play with his 10 year old orc.
And as you [the orc -Toldain] pass below the murder holes, you hear a gargled scream of pain as a very crisp, very fried and very dead goblin falls to the floor behind you. Seems to me someone tripped on the burning oil cauldron
(Laughter) Bersork takes pieces of the fried goblin.
Ewwww, you do? Why?
Orcs LOVE fried goblins daddy!
When Nico told me this little crunchy morsel (pun intended) about Castle Death’s setting, I wanted to jot it down so I could refer to it in a later game (with or without Bersork). So I reached out, picked an index card, wrote “Truths” on it and wrote: “Fried goblins is the finest of Orcish delicacies”.
I have nothing else to add.
I take it back. There’s always something to be said. Well, in this case it’s a picture from Skyrim. It’s the College of Winterhold during a snowstorm. I fought a dragon in this spot. I was too busy not dying to take a screenshot then, though.
But it totally COULD be Castle Death!