Because I love to turn mental disorders into prose. Also Games.

Ye gods!

Okay, so after staring into space with his finger in his nose for a few months, something about a place called Skyrim causes Jericho to shake off some mental cobwebs and collect the pelts of the slain wolves around him.

After a short ride to a nearby camp, he discovers that his luck just went down the shitter with his no-kill-streak. The first bandit, some nobody with a fancy schmancy silver dagger, cuts away at his back while he punches the ground. Clearly he is out of practice. After managing to HIT her for a few rounds, she goes down and he takes her 12 gold. Then her friend comes along. This is where things go from bad to worse. See, he jumps at her compatriot to hopefully loot a nice, glass axe from her. Then a mountain lion attacks him in the tush. “Okay.” I think. “Two things who want me dead. I can-OH COME ON!”

My train of thought is interrupted by a pack of wolves in this flock of brawls. Punching and backpedaling, Jericho manages to find Midsummer and get on. With a westward dash and a “HYAH!” He takes off. In retrospect, it could also have been a cry of pain.

Regardless. I come across a place that I have marked for some reason, but decide to ignore it in favor of the town south of me, Anvil. I need SOMEWHERE to unload all these wolf-pelts and potions of restore fatigue. So I turn Midsumm-OH COME ON, MORE WOLVES?!

RUN MIDSUMMER, RUN! Jericho comes to the coast and rides along it to Anvil, praying for some guards to save him. Six wolves behind me and I run into the town docks and instead of help, I get that oh-so-classic voice.


“Oh balls. I am so screwed.” I think behind Jericho’s partially glazed expression. “Why not just dig deeper.”

“Bribe” *Click* “Don’t make me laugh!”

Oh balls. RUNNNNN

Jericho takes flight to the lighthouse and up to it’s lightier part. The guard follows me like a pissed off dog. I seriously consider my options atop this place. I owe like six grand in fines. That’s about ten years of jailtime.

After staring at my inventory, thinking, the guard patiently waiting while I consult the various odds and ends I’ve looted/stolen/picked up, I surrender to him.

And so begins my long incarce-Oh right. I apparently lapse into coma in jail and just forget about all the hardships like dropping the soap in the…do they even have showers in Cyrodiil?

Okay, fine. I stared at the bars for five minutes, contemplating whether or not I should just break out. I choose the latter.

Walking out, I see I lost about 7 points worth of various skills, la-dee-da.

I’m rather angry at the world right now, so I walk right back inside, march towards the dungeons, get lost, “Ooh, what’s this? A hidden passage?” and go on a robbing spree.

You know, for someone trying to be good, I sure suck at it.

I get caught, by the countess no less, and hightail it out of there.

It is at this point that I sit atop a rock on a cliff that the guards are too stupid to get on top of and take a long hard think about how I want to play the game the kind of person Jericho wants to be.

Yeah, I don't know how I got up here either.

I figure I can do a better job of clearing Jericho’s ambitions at his house rather than some mossy rock half a world away from home.

So I use my only “Teleport to Imperial City” scroll and wind up…Right in the goddamn middle of the city, with guards and all running after me.


For some reason, though, they stop following me once I reach the waterfront. I take this opportunity to go sit in my hidey hole.

I said sit, and I mean sit.

It hits me quickly. The first thing to deal with is the encroaching hand of Lucien Lachance. And the Dork Brotherhood.

Jericho lays down on his bed to sleep, perchance to dream.


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