Skyrim: The Account of Stard


Active Member
I tend to get bored of a single play-style if I use it continuously (i.e. magic user). So I am offsetting Rimion’s magic with Stard. Stard is a Nord who abhors magic in every form. He will be a weapons master, specializing in heavy armor, two-handed and crossbows - but having general proficiency with most CQ weapons (not bows). He will use potions as medicine is not magic. He might initially take pre-made weapons but will eventually do his own forging. His primary mission in life is to hunt down magic users and magical artifacts and purge their evil from the land. I won’t be starting with Helgen (even though I ran through it) since dragons are not going to factor into this story.


No fast travel
No Archery (crossbows allowed)
No Magic
No Enchanted items (he abhors magic in every way)
No selling enchanted items
Enchanted items must be melted down into components if possessing the correct perk
Alchemy limited to eating plants for marginal benefit
Forging unrestricted
No main quest (shouts are magic)
Timescale adjusted to 12

Using SkyRe conversion - All modules
Using Frostfall Mod (survival - hypothermia)
Cloaks of Skyrim Mod - to complement Frostfall
Project Reality - Climates of Tamriel Mod (also works with Frostfall)
Using Character Creation Overhaul - Previous TES style character creation/leveling (Birthsigns, more narrow classes, etc)
Deadlier Dragons Mod - Since Giants seem to be more dangerous than dragons. . .
Interesting NPCs Mod
Immersive Weapons and Armor Mods
Jaysus Weapons Mod
Staves of Skyrim Mod
A couple other mods to improve general immersion (lanterns on roads, more road signs, etc.)

Name - Stard
Race - Nord
Class - Warrior
Birthsign - Lord (improved armor - resistance to magic)
The Account of Stard

I can’t describe how good it feels to be back in Skyrim. After that bad winter, losing everything, and agreeing to work for Uncle Thendor on his farm down South I had little hope of returning to my homeland. The last several years in Cyrodiil sapped my spirit. The land is fine, but it is just too warm for my taste.

Thendor had always been an unusual bird in my family, rejecting both aedra and daedra. Instead he taught things completely contrary to everything I grew up with. Magic was to be abhorred. It was a mark of evil. Aedra and daedra were also all firmly in the evil category. Most objectionable of all was his complete rejection of Talos. His patience and humble nature eventually won me out and I started to accept what he said was truth. In time, my zeal for this viewpoint surpassed even his. I was compelled to leave his shelter to return to my homeland.

There are many evils in this land. I have come back to purge the evil, be it with word or sword. Times are tough and bandits beset simple travelers almost within sight of cities. I will take the fight to them and make the way safe for those who are struggling to get by. Then I will go into the cities and proclaim the truth to those who will hear it.

Magic users beware, Stard is coming.
I arrived in Whiterun this morning with little other than my armor, crossbow, and family sword. The crossbow I took from a bandit who has no need of it anymore. My family sword is an Orcish greatsword passed down through 3 generations. It is said my Great-Grandfather took the sword from Ghamulg the Orc prince when he slew him and 40 of his clan. I cannot vouch for the truthfulness of the story, but the blade is strong and keeps it’s edge better than any steel. The armor I made for myself before setting out from Cyrodiil. It has been riding a bit awkward for the last couple days. When I get the time I need to adjust the straps.

It didn't take me long to find a group of hardened warriors calling themselves the Companions. I didn't see a mage among them so I sought to join up. After a brief sparring session and some intimidation (brawl) test with a local shopkeeper I was well on my way to becoming one of them. They offered me a bed which will be nice since I won’t need to spend coin each night.

It wasn't long before one of them, Farkas, and I were on a mission to find a fragment from an ancient ax. It didn't matter much to me, I just wanted to be doing something. We headed to an old Nordic ruin out on the plains. Within minutes of being inside the ruins it was obvious that this place was steeped with evil taint. Dead rose to assault us, and though we easily struck them down, it sickened me to see dead bodies used as instruments of evil.

However, the shock of the dead rising up against us was offset by another, greater shock. At one point in the ruin I managed to stupidly get myself trapped behind a gate. Farkas was about to find the release when a number of men showed up. I thought Farkas was about to die and me shortly thereafter (if they didn't leave me to die of hunger) but then Farkas transforms before my eyes. It became painfully obvious that I was running around with a werewolf. I must admit that the thought of shooting him right then and there passed my mind. He destroyed the men, who I later learned were part of the Silver Hand. I guess this group is dedicated to wiping out werewolves. Farkas released me after reverting his form and then explained that a number within the Companions are active werewolves. A whole nest of the foul creatures right before my very nose!

I decided against attacking Farkas as I had seen him deal with the Silver Hand. Instead, I allowed the situation to play itself out. Further inside the ruin we encountered ever more Silver Hand agents until finally we had 4 of them on us at once. I thought for sure we were going to die, and for some reason Farkas refused to turn again to save our skins. He took them all on at once, slashing and hacking at them. I could not load my crossbow fast enough, fumbling my bolts several times. But in the end, Farkas and I were the only ones standing. I claimed a silver long sword from one of their bodies that looked to be in particularly good condition.

We found the fragment of the ax lying in the center of a room near a wall that oozed of magic. I could feel the magic sweeping over me but I ignored it and took the fragment. Suddenly, dead were all about us. We were hacking left and right, trying to maintain the high ground. It wasn't long before the bodies were dead again, purged of whatever foul magic that had sustained them.

The trip back to Whiterun was relatively uneventful considering I was walking next to a werewolf. Once I returned the fragment, Farkas spoke for me and I became a full-fledged member of the Companions. I had some reservation about this, but after I spoke to Kodlak I realized I may be looking at this all wrong. He explained how he was also a werewolf but was looking for a cure. Perhaps, rather than being a product of magic, werefolfism is a disease? If that is the case, then I must do all within my power to obtain the cure.

After speaking to Kodlak, and feeling more comfortable about being a member of the companions, I obtained my first solo mission. Apparently, someone had been abducted from Whiterun and taken to a remote camp. I prepped my gear and prepared to set off on a rescue mission. While looking for crossbow bolts in the fetcher's I ran across a dark elf by the name of Jenassa. She offered to assist me for a fee. She seemed proficient with a bow, and I could probably use the support so I hired her. It is nearly night now, so I will make the journey in the morning. I need to be able to see to fight.
Nearly quit on Stard. . .I had previously run through Bleak Falls Barrow before starting the account (which is where I found the Orcish Greatsword). I made the terrible mistake of picking up the DragonStone. Well, not only is it a quest item that cannot be manually dropped from inventory, but it weighs 25 pounds. I realized I was lugging this beast around as I was playing so I decided to run to the Jarl to give it to the court mage. Everything went just fine until we walked over to the court mage. Then the Jarl just sits there staring at him with the mage staring back. Having played through this numerous times before, I know they are supposed to automatically start talking. I try talking to the Jarl, but he is unresponsive. The mage says I need to talk to the Jarl. Attacking either gets me killed right quick. Pushing and prodding does nothing. I had all but given up. I didn't want to have 25 of my weight taken up by a useless item.

Behold the console! I was able to find the internal ID of the DragonStone on the web and a command to remove items from inventory. I executed the command and the stone disappeared. I gleefully tap-danced out of the Jarl's court enjoying my extra 25 pounds of free weight. The Jarl is still there to this day, keeping a watchful eye on his mage. Good thing too, being a staunch anti-magic person, Stard would most likely have slaughtered the fellow if not for the Jarl's presence.
Where do I begin? I shouldn't skip writing in my journal each night because some much seems to happen each day. I guess the most pertinent thing that has happened is that I somehow got caught up in a tide of events and now have a beast within me that struggles day in and day out to escape. I have the werewolf disease. I believe I have it under control for the moment, although the temptation to allow it free is overwhelming at times. I truly pity those who have lived with this for so long. I am even more determined to find a cure.

Rescuing the abducted man went like clockwork. A pair of vampires will no longer trouble this land. It was when I got back that things started to go south. I don’t remember much of my one and only transformation. It was dark and there was a bit of pain. I can only pray that I didn't hurt any innocent bystanders. When I came to, I was just outside of a Silver Hand stronghold with one of the Companions. The two of us charged in to save another Companion being held there. Unfortunately, we were too late. I’m questioning the Silver Hand’s motivations. It appears that they are capturing and skinning werewolves. It doesn't appear to be a righteous cleansing as I was attempting to do. Regardless, they weren’t willing to listen to reason.

After that, I was sent alone to capture their plans for attack. I was able to recover the plans with minimal trouble and was soon back in Whiterun. Upon arriving in town I witness the after-effects of a vampire attack. They are becoming bold, and it concerns me. Appropriately enough, a member of a group calling themselves the Dawnguard stopped by to tell me I should join up. I was more than happy to hear others were fighting the good fight. It turned out that my next mission against the Silver Hand was a short distance from the Dawnguard castle so I decided to swing by.

The mission against the Silver Hand was tough. More than once I thought I would not make it out of that cave alive. But in the end I was able to overcome their forces. The Dawnguard did not usher me into their ranks immediately. They don’t seem to be that organized yet. Instead they asked me to scout a cave north of Whiterun for them. I plan to head there when time permits.

Back in Whiterun, Kodlak called me to him. More than ever he was seeking a cure, and he didn't much care for the campaign against the Silver Hand. He explained that a coven of witches was the source of werewolfism and most likely the cure. I was to go there and return with the head of one. Instead, I brought back all of their heads. I cannot abide these foul creatures to work their evil in my beloved land any longer.

Alas, upon returning I discovered that the Silver Hand had been bold enough to strike Companion headquarters in Whiterun. Kodlak had been killed. The time for grief was not now. Instead we needed to strike back hard against the Silver Hand. I’m heading north to a known hold of theirs to bring judgement upon them. The beast within is seething, yearning for release. I need to calm myself before I enter this hold lest I allow it free.
Kodlak is avenged, but at what cost and to what end?

Two days ago we stood before the hold preparing to do battle. The sentries posted outside offered little resistance. Inside we fought deep into the hold. Room after room we pushed onward. With each blow, attempting to exact some retribution for the crime they had committed. Twice we were beset by large groups and forced to pull back to regroup. I changed my strategy to using the crossbow until they came within striking distance.

As we stood over the last of them, dead on the ground, I felt strangely unsatisfied and empty. What had I accomplished? How had this become my primary mission? I felt sick thinking back over the last several days. I needed to get back to my primary goal. I needed to purge this land of the evil-doers. The Silver Hand was not necessarily my enemy, and could have been a very strong ally. Too late for that. Too late for anything but regret. And regret solves nothing.

We brought the fragments of Wuuthrad back to Whiterun where they were forged back into the original ax. Then, after a night of restless sleep we headed for Ysgramor's Tomb. Once at the tomb we used the ax to open the door. Inside, we were attacked by foul apparitions. Between the three of us we were able to fight our way through to the central chamber. Once there, we met an apparition claiming to be Kodlak. I was told to throw one of the severed witch heads into the fire. Once done, a ghost wolf appeared which we “killed”. Then the apparition named me Harbinger of the Companions and disappeared. I’m not sure what to make of it.

Back in Whiterun I took a day building a Dwarven crossbow. It throws the bolts a bit harder than my wooden crossbow did. When I find another dwarven ingot I plan to see if I can modify it to be a bit lighter and give it a better reload time. I also took the time to craft a large Nord Hero greatsword. It will have a better edge on it until I can figure out how to sharpen my family sword. Until that time, the family sword will stay in my quarters with the Companions.

It is time to look into this vampire menace. I purchased a silver longsword specifically to deal with them. I’m kicking myself for selling all of the fine silver weapons I found when dealing with the Silver Hand. I need to sharpen this new blade but the local blacksmith doesn't have any quicksilver ingots so it will have to wait. The Dawnguard had mentioned a cave north of here. I plan to go check it out first thing. Farkas has agreed to go with me. I will be glad of his company.
The vampire lord, Harkon, is dead.

But what it has cost me I cannot say. I feel I have sold my soul to rid the land of that foul beast. I have used and sold enchanted items, fought alongside Harkon's vampire daughter, traveled through magical portals into lands which reeked of evil, and even made a deal with Harkon's vampire wife. Was it worth it? Only time will tell. I have rid myself of all magical artifacts but I can still feel the lingering taint on my body. The vampire daughter I let go with a stern warning that I will kill her the next time I see her. She did help me against her father, after all. The wife was stuck on some accursed plane of existence, so I didn't worry too much about her.

I am tired. I grow weary of this incessant hunt and in my weariness I am weak. I need to take better care of myself and get more rest. Only then will I be able to resist the temptation of magical artifacts and the allure of gold. I have strayed from my path but am now back on it. Without the will to pick myself up from my failures I would become no better than those I hunt; embracing the darkness. I refuse to give up.

I have a lead on another vampire master holed up in some cave West of Whiterun. I plan to eradicate these monsters one-by-one until the land is free from their curse. But first, I need to catch up on some much needed sleep.
Here is Stard wearing his steel plate armor with his Argonian Battleblade on his back.