Missed the previous day? Find it here: Sneak, Snipe, Repeat: Skyrim Survival Day 5
The Great Trek to High Hrothgar (Or Why Iโll Never Trust Klimmek Again)
After a night warming my scales at the inn in Ivarstead, I figured it was time to climb the famed 7,000 Steps to High Hrothgar. Fresh air, spiritual enlightenment, maybe a new shout or twoโit sounded downright relaxing.
That illusion shattered when Klimmek asked if Iโd kindly lug a crate of supplies up to the Greybeards. Sure, I thought. Whatโs a little frostbite between friends?
Reader, I barely survived.
About 1,000 steps up, my torch fizzled out, the cold turned vicious, and wolves started popping out like theyโd RSVPโd to a โFeast on the Dragonbornโ party. Frostbite crept in, my health bar cried for help, and I wondered if Klimmek would refund my soul when this all went horribly wrong.
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High Hrothgar: The Frostbitten Sanctuary
I eventually stumbled into High Hrothgar, shivering and looking like Iโd rolled down a glacierโwhich, to be fair, I nearly had.
The Greybeards greeted me with the social energy of a fog bank. I grunted, they whispered, and before I knew it, I had new words of power: Ro (from Unrelenting Force) and Wuld (from Whirlwind Sprint). Great additions to my skillset, assuming I live long enough to use them.
They then dropped a fresh quest in my lap: go retrieve Jurgen Windcallerโs horn. I nodded sagely while internally screaming, โCan I at least thaw out first?โ
Also, side noteโwhere do these guys sleep? Thereโs no beds, no chairs, not even a suspicious rug. Just stone, fog, and mystery. True minimalist vibes.
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Mountain-Goating for Fun and Survival
Quest in hand, I faced the return journey. I couldโve taken the stairs like a rational beingโฆ but no. I turned into a Skyrim-certified mountain goat and launched myself off cliffs like gravity was a suggestion.
Somehow, I survived the descent without a single injury. I donโt know how physics works in Skyrim, but Iโm not questioning it. If I can descend a mountain via sheer chaos and dumb luck, then thatโs now the official route.
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Cultists, Chickens, and Chaos
Back in Ivarstead, I expected peace and mead. Instead, I got cultists. Hooded weirdos stormed in, shouting about me being a โfalse Dragonborn.โ
Bold of them to assume I had the energy to argue.
Luckily, they made the mistake of attacking in town. Between the guards, the villagers, andโyesโthe chickens, it became a bloodbath. Chickens pecked. Guards slashed. I think a goat even got involved. The cultists didnโt stand a chance.
After the dust (and feathers) settled, I looted their robes and found a note. Turns out theyโre part of some whole โthere can only be one Dragonbornโ thing. Neat. Add that to the to-do listโright under โdonโt freeze to death.โ
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Klimmekโs Generosity and Collapse OโClock
I reported back to Klimmek, who handed me 500 gold for my troubles. Honestly? Worth it. I delivered your box, fought wolves, scaled a mountain, survived a cultist ambush, and nearly died multiple times.
I crawled back to the inn, got a room, and collapsed into bed. Survival: barely achieved. Muscles: on strike. Brain: frozen.
—
Next Timeโฆ
Time to track down that horn. Or maybe just follow the Greybeards around to figure out what they do when no oneโs looking. Do they nap standing up? Meditate until they astral project? Organise humming contests?
Weโll find outโif I survive another day.
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