About the Skyrim Permadeath Chronicles
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The Adventure of the Stolen Skooma
Subtitle – Another Glorious Tale of Inspector Le’Mosh Locksher
It is at the urgent behest of General Tullius, commander of the Fourth Legion and military governor of Skyrim, that famous Inspector Le’Mosh Locksher…
Reading over Nostaw’s shoulder, Le’Mosh interrupts. “I believe the word you are looking for is infamous.”
Nostaw looks up from his work. “Huh?”
The wagon lurches as it climbs the hill toward Solitude. “Not famous. Infamous. Meaning – really, really famous.”
“I’m not sure that word means what you think, sir.”
“My dear, stupid Nostaw… who of us is the citizen of Cyrodiil, and who is an unwashed savage from the north?”
Nostaw shrugs. “As you say, sir.”
It is at the urgent behest of General Tullius, commander of the Fourth Legion and military governor of Skyrim, that infamous Inspector Le’Mosh Locksher arrives at the Imperial headquarters in Solitude. A most dastardly disappearance has baffled the local constabulary. Inspector Locksher must use his considerable wisdom to unravel the mystery of the stolen skooma.
The wagon rolls to a halt. As Nostaw packs up his writing supplies, Le’Mosh grins at him. “Well, have you any theories? Whodunnit, as it were?”
“Probably a khajiit.”
“Don’t be a racist.” Le’Mosh hops down from the wagon, being careful not to get any mud on his gorgeous new robe. “I hope not all nords are as stupid as you, else this is liable to be a difficult case. Come now, and don’t forget my baggage.”
Le’Mosh is admitted to Tullius’ command room. Of the General himself, there is no sign. A hard-looking woman in armor leans over a map studded with blue and red pins. She straightens. “You must be Inspector Locksher.”
Le’Mosh executes a crisp bow. “I am he. But you are not General Tullius.”
“Ah. Your reputation precedes you.” Her lips tug in the slightest suggestion of a smile.
“So it does.” Le’Mosh strides to the map and studies it, chin in hand.
A long, awkward pause. The woman clears her throat. “I am Legate Rikke, second in command to the General.”
“Just as I inspected.”
“Ah… yes. And who is this?” Nostaw hovers at the doorway, laden down with luggage.
“Nostaw Hojn. Porter, local guide, and translator. A man of many talents.”
The woman leans over the table and talks softly. “Are you certain of his allegiance?”
She straightens, gives Nostaw a skeptical look, then shrugs. “Please, come inside and set down your bags.”
Le’Mosh helps himself to a chair. “Now that we are all well-met, to the business at hand. I came quite at once, as you can no doubt see. I do not normally appear quite so rugged, and my hair hasn’t usually this wind-blown quality to it. I understand you’ve lost some skooma?”
“Erm… yes, very well. The missive that summoned you held little information. We didn’t want to tip our hand, in the event that it fell into the wrong hands. You understand.”
Le’Mosh graciously nods.
“You come to Skyrim at a volatile time. Rebels are massing and open conflict is no longer in doubt. Last week the rebels hit Helgen. Reports coming in are still vague, but it seems the city has been destroyed. General Tullius rode south to assess the situation.”
“Soldiers soldering, yes, yes.” Le’Mosh twirls his hand. “What of this skooma? Why is a missing wagon of skooma so important that you need my superior intellect to locate it?”
“I was just coming to that. Shortly before the attack on Helgen, a patrol captured a khajiit crossing the border with a wagon of skooma. They impounded the wagon at Falkreath Hold, but the khajiit escaped into the wilds. He turned up three days later at Riverwood, mad and raving. Killed a couple of villagers before he was taken down.”
Le’Mosh studies the map. “Riverwood and Falkreath Hold are not so far apart.”
“A day’s walk, and a slow one at that,” Nostaw offers.
“And yet he was three days in the wild. What did this khajiit do these other days?” Le’Mosh muses. He taps the map. “Helgen is not so far from either of these places.”
Legate Rikke nods. “And here’s another piece of the puzzle. For some time, we’ve heard rumors of a new type of skooma that grants increased strength and vitality. Incredibly so. They’re calling it the Dragon.”
Nostaw’s eyes widen. “Enough strength to level an entire city?”
“It’s only a theory. We’ll know more when the General returns.”
“The Dragon.” Le’Mosh says to himself. “Interesting. You believe this skooma was meant for the rebels massing near Helgen.”
“We do. And now you understand the weight of this situation. If Khajiit Clans are supporting the Rebels in an effort to undermine the Empire…” Rikke trails off, but the implication is not lost on any of them. War, on a much grander scale than mere civil strife in the north. War to consume all of Tamriel.
Le’Mosh speaks into the quiet. “The missive said the skooma was lost.”
“Stolen from Imperial custody.”
“An inside job. Hence, the summons. Vis a vis, my presence here today. Henceforth, I shall travel south and locate your lost wagon. Forthwith. At once.”
Legate Rikke provides the men with provisions for the trip – several days of food, gold for inns or bribes, and a large tent for nights spent in the wild.
As they part company, Le’Mosh fumbles at her hand and plants a sloppy kiss on it. He flees before she has a chance to react, turning to shout, “Adieu, my steel flower. Until next time.”
Le’Mosh Locksher is something like a cross between Sherlock Holmes and Inspector Jacques Clouseau (of Pink Panther fame), with the people skills of Michael Scott (The Office – American edition). Le’Mosh is a bumbling fool in many ways, but he has some redeeming qualities too – particularly, he is quite shrewd in his areas of expertise (Alchemy and Illusions). He is, however, naïve and a bit aloof in general.
Nostaw Hojn is, rightfully, something of a Watson-type character. This also gave me an excuse to start the game with a companion, and thus perhaps extend this playthru a bit longer.
This should be fun!