» Sat Jun 02, 2012 4:37 pm With a half baked plan fresh in her head and some nifty new spells learned after having to kick the crap out of three daedric clones, three farking times, she headed off to Whiterun remembering the Temple of Kynareth and all those poor ailing sick people in need of help.
(It's a mere small matter to mention that a small distraction led her into becoming a werewolf and consequently forgetting that when she finally arrived at Whiterun she was both naked and unarmed.)
Not really paying much heed to the happy guards and horrified children, the brave Warrior strode through Whiterun to the Temple of Kynareth, eager and ready to do GOOD for those poor sick people.
So this fine and noble Warrior enters the temple, to a wave of moans and whimpers from the sick and injured stretched out upon the various beds located around the temple. This brilliant and smart Warrior strides towards the closest sick farmer, the poor soul crying out in his sleep.
Gleefull atlast to be doing good, the Warrior stands next to the bed and hastily equips the healing hands spell, not paying too much attention to which hand the spell will emit from.
Images of glory and respect flit through the Warriors mind. Hopes that the sick and injured farmer will leap, fully healed from his sick bed, and spread the word that the mighty Bekovich has become the stalwart of dignity and love and kindness in the world..
Closer and closer, she leans towards him ready to bestow health and long life to the poor commoner...
..And somehow promptly punches him in the face.
Much bloodshed and confusion later, the mighty warrior stands, once again, atop the highest precipise in Skyrim,
and ponders if perhaps, she was dropped on the head as a child.
