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Forgotten Scrolls: Spaghetti's Quest


Mr. Scolex

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Long ago, in the magical land of Skyrim. There was a man who embarked on an incredible journey, a journey that made him legend. This man, well, his name was Spaghetti. He was a Dark Elf, Dunmer if you will, with a very strange look about him. He was average height, slender, and everything else seemed normal about him, except for his face. When I first encountered this man, Spaghetti, at the Winking Skeever, I swear to Akatosh I thought that n'wah was going to snap my arm right off my shoulder, and use the bones to smoke his steamed "skooma" or whatever the kids are calling it now-a-days.

Anyway, so Spaghetti sat down next to me and ordered a drink. I could see him looking at me with my peripheral vision, which only made me nervous.

"Hey Lizard, you got brain rot or somethin'? What'sa matter with you?" He said, blowing his mead breath all over my glistening Argonian scales.

"My apologies, it's just, well..." I felt almost embarassed to say it.

"It's just what?" Spaghetti asked.

"Well, it's just that, um, where exactly is your nose?" I asked in mass confusion.

"Ah, that old thing?" He poked his index finger on some sort of nub located between his eyes. "Back when I lived in Morrowind, my wife, Lillith, was naggin' on about how her mother was 'right about me' and saying things like 'I'm not the man she once knew.' Which, I suppose was correct. I was a Werewolf after all."

I gulped my mouth saliva in fear. "Did you say, Werewolf?"

"Yep, I was a Werewolf, well I technically am still a Werewolf, well not really, I don't know it's hard to explain."

"Are you a Werewolf? A pawn of the Daedric Lord Hircine?"

"Kinda, let me explain. After being a Werewolf for awhile, I grew tired of turning into the beast. I decided it was time to get cured." He took a swig of his MEED. "I met this lady, some milk drinker in Solstheim, who said she would cure me. To make a long story short, during the ritual, I decided I actually wanted to keep turning into the beast. So I jumped out of the ritual circle, and now, when I turn, only half of my body turns."

I raised a scale in confusion. "Only half? You're half a Werewolf?"

"Yep, right down the middle. One half is Wolf beast, the other half is Studly Dunmer."

"So then, what does that have to do with your nose?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, my wife wouldn't shut up. So I barked at her, and she smacked me in the face with her cooking pot. Pushed my nose all the way up to my eyes, personally I think it looks pretty fly."

I reached my hand out to shake his. "We haven't been introduced, my name is Mcnuggins."

He shook my hand and responded. "Spaghetti, nice to meet you Mcnuggins."

The tavern had started dying down, and after awhile it was only Spaghetti and I, and of course the bar-champion, in the tavern. He told me tales of Morrowind, and strange things that happened in Cyrodill. I would be a little bit more descriptive, but still to this day I think something 'special' was slipped into my mead. So, I don't fully remember what he told me, but I'm sure it had something to do with winning the skooma tank challenge.

The barkeep finally got fed up with us, and told us to piss off. So we did, in style.

Upon reaching the town gate, Spaghetti turned around and looked at me.

"Listen, I'm on my way to a Necromancer Hideout nearby, I'm running low on gold, and my Conjuration could use some increasing. I don't think I can do it alone though, what do you say?"

"Sure, I'll go with you."

"Oh, goodie! Goodie! Goodie!" Spaghetti said, jumping up and down in excitement.

"But if I find out you really just want to take my gold and use it to buy the Skooma Canals in Morrowind, I will be highly dissapointed."

"Oh, McNuggins. You always know what to say."

[the two place their arms on eachothers shoulders, and laugh almost as if it were a cheesy T.V. sitcom like Seinfeld. And disappear into the sunset.]

END: Act 1, Scene 1.

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