Peragorn Script

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A quiet, unassuming Wood Elf, raised in Skyrim. He’s mostly a shoulder shrugging type. The one thing that annoys him is another Wood Elf, Valindor, who was raised in the Bosmer homeland of Valenwood and makes him feel insecure about being “Nord-washed,” so to speak. Despite being a Wood Elf he has zero understanding of his ancestral culture, and resents the fact that people assume otherwise. But for the most part he’s just a simple farmer who doesn’t get too high or too low on the emotional scale.

greet

Oh, hello there. How are you?

I’m fine. You?
I’m doing okay. (Sigh) It’s just another day with not a lot going on.  Is there anything in particular I can help you with?

That depends on whether you’re willing to loan me some money.
Oh, I don’t have any to spare. You might be better off asking Addvild. The Snow-Shods take care of their farm hands.
I work the farm, but not in any official capacity. Addvild just buys the crops I pick. Is there anything else you needed?

Terrible. I have this urge to just punch whatever’s in front of me.
Then do you mind turning around? I’d rather not take a chance. I’ve got enough aches already working the farm for Addvild.

Fantastic! Thanks for asking!
You seem excited. Tell Svana I’ll have whatever you’re having. Maybe it’ll help me forget how many leeks I picked for Addvild today.
In any case, is there anything I can help you with?

Fantastic! Thanks for asking!
You seem jubilant. I tried that once, and I think it made my stomach ill. I’d rather spend another eight hours on the farm.
In any case, is there anything I can help you with?

I’ve got the witches’ pox and I need to blow my nose. Quick, lend me your tunic.
I don’t think that’s a good idea. You might want to head over to Elgrim’s and buy a potion for that. Although you don’t look sick to me.
If you get a health potion with it, maybe you can send half that bottle my way. The Divines know I need one after picking leeks all day.

I’m suffering from bone break fever and highly contagious.
Contagious? Don’t you need broken bones to catch bone break fever? Oh wait, does that mean you’re going to break mine?
Although I guess I’ve already broken my back picking wheat for the Snow-Shods, so one more won’t make a difference.

I want to ask you some questions.
Well, that’s something that doesn’t happen everyday. You want to ask me questions?
I’m just a farmhand. On the list of important folks in this town, I’m about as low as a borrowed robe.
So I don’t know who you think I am stranger, but I’m not at all interesting. You on the other hand, I bet you’ve gone on all sorts of adventures.

As a matter of fact, I was in Helgen when the dragon attacked.
Wow, and you survived? Is it true that Alduin has 3 heads and 12 eyes? That he eats Bretons, but only the ugly ones? That his scales are pink?
Oh never mind, you don’t have to answer that.  Even I realize how silly that sounds.
Still, I never thought someone like you would choose me as a conversation partner.

More than you know. You stand before the Dragonborn.
So you…you slay dragons? If I ever did something like that, the people of Riften wouldn’t hear the end of it.
I’d change my name to Peragorn the Dragonslayer or something, and I’d have Addvild fetch my boots.
I wouldn’t be asking him questions about his life, that’s for sure.  So I’m not sure why you want to talk to me.

As it so happens, I’ve joined the College of Winterhold.
Shouldn’t you be studying then? I’m not sure how talking to me will help you any.

I did join the Thieves Guild.
I’d be more worried if I actually had coin you could steal. You’d probably be better off picking wheat than picking my pocket.
Which means you came here to talk. I’m not sure about what. I don’t even have any gossip to share.

(Remain Silent)
I don’t like your look stranger. There’s malice behind those eyes.
Can’t see why you’d want to hurt me though, I’m not important enough to have made any enemies.

I’ve mostly just scavenged and wandered. Nothing special.
You’ve seen more in one day than I’ve seen in all my life. I don’t mean that in a negative way though. I don’t really care to see it.
My life is here, harvesting crops for the Snow-Shods. It’s a simple life, but I can’t see what I have to offer you beyond how to pick potatoes.

If my conversation partners were limited to my peers, I’d be a mute.
True, but you still could aim a little higher than me. The Jarl’s keep has plenty of interesting folks, I recommend you talk to them.
But if you’re that intent on asking me questions, go ahead. But I’d much rather talk about you.

I enjoy conversing with everyday people. There’s always something to learn.
Alright, then ask your questions, and I’ll try my best to impart what little wisdom I have. Although I’d still rather talk about you.

Sadrin is saw-drin, Niluva is Nih-loo-vah

Does Addvild offer you room and board?
No, but I don’t mind. Haelga’s Bunkhouse isn’t too expensive, the beds are cozy enough, and Niluva’s easy on the eyes.
I know Sadrin thinks all of Mundus revolves around Haelga, and Svana has her share of suitors, but I don’t know, neither of them strike my fancy.
At least, not the way Niluva does. To be honest, I love everything about the Bunkhouse, except maybe Valindor.

I admit, I didn’t always feel that way. Valindor used to bug me, but…but I never wanted him dead.

Niluva? The skooma addict?
Nobody’s perfect. Well, besides Maven Black-Briar.

Niluva? Who’s that?
You haven’t met her? She’s a Dunmer woman with eyes like ebony and a voice as smooth as the surface of Lake Honrich.

Ah, Sadrin.  He will never climb those verdant hills.
Yes, he is quite a character. It’s funny how he insists on staying at Haelga’s when he clearly can afford better.

I’ve yet to meet this Sadrin.
Well, I hope you like talking about Haelga, because that’s pretty much all he cares about.

Why don’t you like Valindor?
He’s not a bad person or anything. It’s just the way he’s always going on about Valenwood. It makes me feel like such an outsider.
I may be a Bosmer by blood, but I was born and raised here, and someday I’ll die here too. I shouldn’t have to be ashamed of that.

How does he make you feel ashamed?
Well, I’ve told Valindor many times that I’ve never been outside of Skyrim, but he’ll still ask me what my favorite memories of our homeland are.
Whenever I mention how beautiful the fall forest is, he’ll tell me how the leaves in Silvenar turn with twice the color.
Or he and Ungrien will share stories about the way the cities rumble under your feet, or how a crop of new aromas bloom with each spring.
And none of it means anything to me. When I sit at that table, I can’t help but feel excluded. As if I have to apologize for who I am.

I can kill Valindor. Then the bunkhouse will be perfect.
Oh no, I don’t want him dead! He hasn’t broken any laws.

I’m sure he means no harm. He just misses Valenwood.
I know, I don’t mean to say he doesn’t like me. It’s much, much worse. He pities me.

If Valenwood was so great, he never would’ve left.
My thoughts exactly. I think he pities me, but I should be the one pitying him. He’s the one who left his home, not me.

Valindor is a cruel Elf and should be thrown in jail for his callousness.
Okay, okay, I get it. Maybe I’m being a bit melodramatic. I know he just misses his home, but I don’t see why he has to pile his frustrations on me.

You should be ashamed of yourself, the way you spit on your ancestors.
My parents migrated to Skyrim before I was born. Whatever connection I share with Valenwood starts and ends in the mirror.
It’s funny. Valindor pities who I am, but if he were to meet someone here and have children, they’d look like him, but resemble me.

Seriously, just let me kill the guy. Problem solved.
It must be awfully convenient to go through life just murdering the people you don’t like.
But I’m thankful to have met Valindor. Even the folks you don’t get along with can teach you valuable things about yourself.

Have you ever thought about visiting Valenwood?
I have. For a long time that was all I thought about. And it wasn’t just to shut Valindor up. I really wanted to know about my heritage.  My home.
So every day I would skip a meal or pick a few more potatoes and eventually saved enough to make the trip.
I had everything packed. All that was left was to say goodbye. I thanked Addvild and Leonara for having me, and all my friends at the bunkhouse.
On my way to Solitude I made a stop in Morthal. That’s where I met this tavern maid.

What about her made you change your mind?
Well, she was the perfect embodiment of a Nord woman. Tall, pretty, and fair of skin. Only there was something strange about the way she spoke.
She called skeevers ‘cave rats,’ Falmer ‘goblins,’ and constantly complained about the cold. Ha, I was more of a Nord than she ever would be.
That’s when I realized I didn’t need to travel halfway across Tamriel to find my home. I was already here.

How’s life on the farm working out for you?
Good. The climate here in Riften is ideal for the crops we grow.
The soil is warm, but not too warm where the tubers revert to leaves. In some places the ground is so hard you need a shovel to harvest things.
Here, you can pull out the leeks by the stems. The potatoes require a little more care, so as not to damage them.

What’s the best way to pull potatoes from the soil?
You have to sort of ease the stalk out of the ground, and then claw around the dirt. It’s still pretty easy compared to the farm work up north.
I’ve got a bad back though, and I have to spend half my earnings over at Elgrim’s Elixirs.
The rest I spend on food, shelter, and maybe the occasional bottle of mead. I’ve got no complaints though.
If I had money, I’m not sure what to spend it on.

More coin, more problems. Mainly, the problem of unlimited happiness.
I’m not sure I agree. The Snow-Shods and Black-Briars have enough gold to fill the Ratways, but they don’t seem all that happy about it.
Sometimes I’m glad I don’t work under Vulwulf. I don’t make as much as Addvild or Leonara, but I can make my own hours and work at my own pace.

If you spend your whole life in a cave, you’d never know the sun’s warmth.
Maybe so, but from what I hear, not everyone finds it warm. Sometimes it’s too hot, sometimes it burns.
Why seek the sun when you’re comfortable in the shade?

Farming is honorable work.
I don’t know about honorable. At least, I don’t work the fields out of some sense duty, or for someone else’s admiration.
I do it so I won’t go hungry. Sometimes it happens anyway.

A simple life is best. Having riches makes you fearful of losing it.
You’re right. I always hear about how the Black-Briars are scheming, or how their children are getting into trouble.
Meanwhile, Vulwulf and Asgeir storm about Riften as if there were a nail lodged in their bottoms.

Did you ever consider working for the Snow-Shods?
Of course. Merryfair Farm can’t afford to hire another hand, while the Snow-Shods have enough to pay a dozen farmers and a score of guards.
Only the Snow-Shods only hire other Nords. True Sons of Skyrim, basically.
Maybe things might be different under Asgeir, but I don’t have my fingers crossed. He’s pretty much a mirror of his father.
They’d never hire me, even though I’m pretty sure they need me.

Are there are a lot of contract farmers like yourself?
A lot of travelers come by and help out, but ever since Hagravi left about five years ago, there hasn’t been another steady farmhand since.
Vulwulf will never admit it though. I’ve always said when they bury him, they’re going to need three coffins.
One for him, one for his pride, and one for that cauldron he calls a belly.

Okay, fine. Is there anything you want to ask me?
Sure. For starters, um…what’s your favorite thing to eat in Skyrim?

I enjoy a good warm stew.
You must spend a lot of time up north. Stew’s good, but it’s not too popular in Riften. But in a place like Dawnstar, I bet there’s nothing finer.

People.
Really? I hope you don’t like Wood Elves. May I recommend a nice, hefty, Snow-Shod steak?
I’m kidding of course. But if you’re serious, you might want to head west. Bolli’s friend Kleppr lives in Markarth, and there’s been rumors.

Raw meats, fruits, and vegetables. Whatever I can scrape together.
I imagine that’s what you have to eat, but it can’t be your favorite thing to eat, can it?  If so, you’re missing out.
Then again, who am I to tell you that. I’ve lived my whole life by taking pride in the simple things.
And my idea of a fancy meal is a rabbit haunch with a side of freshly cut cabbage.

Taffy, pie, and sweet rolls mostly.
You’ve got a sweet tooth then. That’s not very healthy.
But I suppose most people nowadays just eat what they want and drink a  potion afterward. If you can afford it, who am I to judge.

Cooked meats, fish, and poultry.
You must be a warrior then, someone who likes their meat as bloody as their battles. Although I did meet a soldier once who only ate vegetables.
She came to the farm to pick the leeks and potatoes, so she could boil them in a stew.
And the best part was, she was bigger and stronger than all the farm guards put together.

I prefer a balanced diet.
I’ve heard that’s the healthiest way to eat. Although I’m not sure it matters if you know a good alchemist.

Vegetables. Strictly vegetables.
Not the answer I’d expect coming from a fellow Bosmer. Don’t worry, I’m a farmer. I’m the last person who’s going to scold you about the Green Pact.

Yet you’re as stout and hearty as any meat eater. I’m beginning to wonder if I should switch to an all vegetable diet myself.

Is that all?
No, no, I got more. I think. Okay, how about this. What do you think is the most fearsome beast in Skyrim?

Probably mammoths.
I’ve never seen one. Which might sound odd, considering I’ve lived in Skyrim all my life.
I’ve heard they’re mostly harmless though, unless you poke them.

This is the obvious answer, but dragons.
Oh, right. Some farmers will tell you a swarm of locusts is scarier than any dragon. But I don’t know, locusts don’t breathe fire.

If nothing else, bears are the most annoying.
Somebody once told me a bear won’t attack you unless it feels threatened. Now I realize he was trying to murder me.

My spouse.
Ooh, I wouldn’t touch that subject with a pair of enchanted gloves. Riften is full of happy newlyweds. The priests don’t take kindly to negativity.
Well, at least until Jade joined the Temple. They say every marriage she blesses is doomed to fall apart.

Mortals. The most dangerous beast, the most challenging game.
You’re probably right. Luckily, around here you don’t get too many bandits or mages, but there are plenty of thieves.

Spiders. All other answers are invalid.
I’m inclined to agree. It’s the hairs more than anything. If spiders shaved, I don’t think people would hate them as much.

Anything else?
No, that’s it. I guess I can’t even ask interesting questions.

Are Wood Elves even allowed to be farmers?
You sound like Valindor. He never stops with the Green Pact and all this other religious nonsense.
So I can’t pick a cabbage from the garden, but if a Nord picks that same cabbage and sells it to me to eat, it’s okay?
The whole concept seems a little silly to me.
If you’re not going to eat vegetables, that’s one thing, but don’t look down on me for harvesting crops when there’s plenty of green on your plate.

Scene with Sadrin 1

Peragorn, can I ask you a question? In your time here at the Bunkhouse, has Haelga ever made any…romantic advances?

Haelga? No, not that I’m aware of. Although she did ask me once if I’ve ever seen a woman wear Daedric boots…

She…what? But you don’t even know her! The two of you rarely even speak!

I’m sorry Sadrin.

Scene with Sadrin 2

Listen to me Peragorn, you’ll never get Niluva’s attention the way you’re going about it.

I don’t know, next to Jade, you’re probably the last person I should ask for advice.

Will you shut up and just hear me out for a second?

I suppose there’s no harm in that. What did you have in mind?

Well, we all know Niluva’s addicted to skooma. What if you were to place a bottle in your trousers and…
What? Don’t look at me like that, I’m being serious.