Old man in Skyrim – Part 1

The Premise

Skyrim is a vast sprawling game, you can pretty much do anything you want, so I decided to live in Skyrim, to see how an old man coped with the harsh environment and bizarre folk that inhabit this land. This is my tale!

The Rules

80 year old man in Skyrim.

Only doing what an average 80 year old can do.

No constantly running, using shouts (special powerful magics), magic or fast travel.

No murder or stealing or anything unethical, should always try to run away from a fight.


It begins – day 1
I’m an average 80 year old man, I’m frail, small and scared of youths. I have no knowledge of quantum entanglement or particle physics, so imagine my surprise that I find myself in a strange land, a cold, mountainous land. I’m Cecil Thax and I’m an old man stuck in Skyrim!

Cecil, a proud and chilly man
Cecil, a proud and chilly man

I’ve no idea how I’ve appeared in this land, where I am or what’s happening. But being a get up and go sort of fellow I immediately decide to just accept my bizarre new fate.

In the distance I can see a town on an amazing stone outcrop. Unfortunately between me and this settlement is a series of steep cliffs. The other direction is a large, very fast flowing river. I’m not a strong swimmer by any means and it looks very cold, so I’m not about to go for a quick paddle if only for the fact I’ve always suffered from severe penile shrinkage in cold water.

Signs of civilization
Signs of civilization

The only direction viable is towards a large waterwheel. There must be civilization there, I decide it’s a good a place as any to get some information about my current situation. I begin my quest, to discover the inhabitants of a water powered building of some sort. As I make my way towards the wheel something seems wrong, I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I’ve noticed something isn’t right, it’s more than being deeply worried that I’ve just appeared in a strange land with no knowledge of the who, what, whens and whys of how I got here. It’s more a general feeling of intense cold. Intense cold all over my body.

I realize I’m naked!




Thank god for the modesty flap
Thank god for the modesty flap

Save for a small modesty loin cloth, all my bits and bobbles are exposed to the cold mountain air, severe genital shrinkage has occurred. I need clothes, though there’s nothing I can do about it, I’m no thief. Even if I wanted to steal clothes, the best I could cobble together at the moment would be a wood pile and cobblestone suit, and that would probably chafe more than my old skin would be happy with. I walk around the water powered building and come to the conclusion that it’s probably some kind of water powered saw mill. The piles of wood everywhere are my first hint, also the giant saw cutting up wood is a clue.









A prude at 10am
A prude at 10am

It’s here I come into contact with my first inhabitant of this land.

The only thing he says to me is to put some clothes on! Despite my continued questioning, all he is concerned about is covering up my chest, in a way I admire him for his concern for my well being. In a way. In another way I wish he would give me a tunic or just some jodhpurs, my bum’s really cold.

I walk around the saw mill until I meet another gentleman, who asks me to chop as much would as I can. Me? A man of my age? I doubt I could even lift the axe he’s offering me. He isn’t too concerned about my undress, he just seems interested in me doing manual labour for him. I’ve not been here five minutes and I’ve already been offered a job, he didn’t even ask for any references. I ignore his requests and begin the long arduous walk up several steep inclines to the town I saw on my arrival.

As I walk up I’m joined by a knight or guard, it’s hard to know what he is exactly because he refuses to talk to me at all. Then again if I met a nude old man half way up a steep hill, I’d be hard pushed to think of areas of small talk. When I finally reach the top of the hill, I see a man with a horse and cart, a quick chat later and I find out he’s willing to drive me anywhere I want to go. Where was he when I was at the bottom of this damn hill? Though he quickly withdraws his kind offer when I inform him I haven’t got a single penny to my name, you’d think my nudity would have given him a clue, where did he think I was hiding a coin purse?

I enter what I find out is the town gates of Solitude. Before I get my bearings I hear and see a hubbub in the town square. Is there a gymkhana or jamboree?

Short back and sides sir?
Short back and sides sir?

Oh no, it’s just a public execution. A PUBLIC EXECUTION?! What the hell kind of country is this? I’ve no idea why this man is to be murdered or why the town’s people seem very keen to see this man become one head lighter.

For some reason I decide to watch the whole thing from the front row. I hope public nudity isn’t punishable by death. The people in charge shout his crimes, referencing people and places I’ve never heard of. I find it quite hard to follow, also my nipples are very cold.

And don't do it again!
And don’t do it again!

I need clothes badly. But I have no money and refuse to steal any. So I need to get a job, but who’s going to employ a naked old man? Well, a saw mill worker but as I’m too weak to lift an axe I’ve had to turn down his generous offer. If only there were some clothes just lying around. Just lying around not being used anymore. Just lying around not being used anymore because their owner is minus one head.

I’m not proud of myself but after all the town’s folk and officials leave, they leave the headless corpse there, just lying on the plinth letting a nice outfit go to waste! I figure the dead man’s ownership of clothes is somewhat of a legal grey area, so I ‘borrow’ them. I now sport a fetching cloth sack outfit!

The height of fashion!
The height of fashion!

I sit a while in a nearby public garden. Night is slowly falling. I’ve no idea where I’m going to sleep or how I’m going to eat or drink. Where would I go for my weekly bingo games? All very important questions and none that I can answer right now. Then as if to add insult to injury I go through my newly acquired (and still corpse warm) pockets and find a book telling me that the cold is fatal here. Even getting wet will make me poorly, and how important it was that I wrap up warm. It looks like my fetching new garments won’t be good enough.

To keep warm I decide to walk through Solitude. I talk to a few people, a strange lizard gentleman asks me if I will steal things for him, I cut him off mid-sentence and walk away from him and his nefarious life style, tutting in derision as I do. Though I quickly stop this when I realize he has a massive sword.

After a while I spot a nice fountain in the distance, I go closer to take a look. There’s something about this fountain I like but I can’t put my finger on it.

Fun for all the family
Fun for all the family

I go close to take a look, and before I realize it I’ve slipped and am standing in the full flow of the water, getting utterly drenched! I get out and try and dry off, not an easy task. Quickly flicking through the book I was recently reading, I turn to the page about being wet. Yes, it will eventually kill me!

I walk as fast as I can to find a fire to warm myself up, when I happen upon a young lady, who enthusiastically starts talking to me, maybe she has a thing for 80 year olds in dripping wet cloth sack outfits. As it turns out she is a bard, and her collage is looking for other people to join their ranks. I’ve always been keen on taking some further education so I ask more about this ‘bards college’ she mentions ever other word.

Bards, those musical type people who wander the land singing tales of heroes and heroines. I am a musician too, I work in the medium of Blues, so the chance to work with other bards, writing sonnets and music interests me greatly. I’m in the town of solitude, which seems like it would be perfect for blues, both sound self-pitying and depressing. After speaking with the woman more, she asks me to go fetch a poem for her. I can do that, I love a good library. Then she tells me that the poem has been misplaced in ‘Dead Men’s Respite’.

Maybe it’s just a name? It might be lovely inside.

I sit by a roaring public fire, drying off my tunic and contemplate my options.

Smart, handsome and warm. I'm one of those three!
Smart, handsome and warm. I’m one of those three!

Maybe it’s just a name, maybe?!

Part 2 here – https://radiothax.com/2013/09/06/old-man-in-skyrim-2/

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