Wednesday - (Nearly) 40 Hours In

The first tale I have for you today involves the stupidity of the undead. Now you might say that I'm being unfair to call a reanimated human skeleton stupid, but I ask you to consider this: skeletons have no brains. I don't just mean that they have a low IQ. I mean literally. There's nothing inside their skulls. Come to think of it, it's a wonder that they're able to propel themselves, or even do anything, at all. I wonder what a scientist would say to that? Tell me, Mr Scientist, just how is it possible for a pile of bones with no nervous system (or indeed musculature system) to move? Anyway, here's irrefutable evidence of the downright inanity of undead skeletons:

Skeletons. Not known for their smarts.

In case you're unsure as to what's happening here, let me spell it out for you. Your friends and mine, the skeletons, hang out in some kind of ancient subterranean crypt that's remained sealed for hundreds (possibly thousands) of years. Inexplicably, there's an enormous pool of an unidentified, though undeniably highly flammable, fossil fuel lying untouched within the confines of this crypt. I've stumbled into a room containing five hostile undead as well as this wondrous pool of fuel. What are the chances, I wonder, that all five skeletons would be simultaneously moronic enough to wander into that volatile pool of death at the same time? Very good indeed, it turns out! All it took was a simple flame spell to ignite the lot and instantly solve my boney problem. We've all had boney problems (admit it), but how many of them are solved with quite such panache?

Fed up of the constant snow in the Northern mountains, I headed South by way of Windhelm, when this happened:

Ouch

I believe there was some kind of disagreement between the man with the bow and the winged creature that you may be able to make out at the top of the picture. Not wanting to get involved, I left them to their squabbles and continued on my way.

Looks peaceful

Pictured above is my future retirement home. I passed it on the way to Riften in the South East, home to the Thieves' Guild. If I were a thief, personally, I'd keep it to myself. Certainly I wouldn't let anyone other than close and trusted friends know. In fact, the thing I'd be least likely to do is join a club that advertises my disregard for the law. Just a thought.

Riften

That's the Jarl's court in Riften. It was so cozy inside that I decided to bed down for the night in one corner, hoping that no-one would notice me if I kept quiet. Alas, I was out on my ear within five minutes.

In other news, I went against my better judgement and bought another horse. It hasn't died yet. I've owned it for at least an hour. I will be sure to keep you updated on its status over the coming days. Did I says "days"? I meant "day". Let's face it, "hour" is probably being generous. But enough! Check back tomorrow to see if Horsey-Chops survives the night.