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The tender love between Orc and Boat

With a Cry that echoed through the surrounding mountains, balls nasty embraced the remains of the boat to Solstheim and wept!

For you see, Balls Nasty The Orc and the boat to Solstheim had once been lovers. Oh yes… They loved each other to the greatest possible extent that an Orc and sea-faring vessel could. But their romance was not meant to be. After all, he was a mortal being and, it… a boat. Made of dead wood. They had ended amicably at first, but balls nasty had returned to the land of Solstheim in an attempt to rekindle their relationship… and now all he had was kindling.

His sobs transformers into deranged cackles. Suddenly Balls Nasty threw back his head, grabbed a piece of his former love, and RUSHED at kevin swinging wildly. Kevin dodged with the ease a person dodges snails, and then punched the Orc so hard that…

YOU DECIDE

The Battle Cometh!

The Orc's demeanour rapidly changed as he caught a glimpse of the weapon Kevin now wielded. Kevin lept into a fighting stance brandishing The Boat to Solstheim.

The seafaring vessel towered above the two primed combatants. Where Kevin had been storing the boat, and how it appeared reformed following its complete destruction mere hours earlier, was unclear. With a mighty swing Kevin brought the boat down in the direction of the head of balls nasty... but the orc was fast. Faster than Kevin had expected. With a dash and a roll he narrowly escaped the crafts hull as it once again disintegrated with a mighty crash just beside him. Kevin raised an eyebrow... was... was that emotion? A hint of surprise on his rock hard face? or just a mere itch. None could say. Regardless he strode, now towards the Orc, fists raised, ready for a brawl. What the orc did next though MUST have surprised Kevin as it defied all logic. With a Cry that echoed through the surrounding mountains, balls nasty...

YOU DECIDE

Weapon Selection

“Moo, Kevin. Moo”

These words of advice returned to Kevin's head now. They said so much, and yet so little. Kevin was awoken from his nostalgic haze by the sound of heavy footsteps behind him. He spun with the grace of ten thousand ballerinas to match gaze with Balls Nasty The Orc.

"I heard you were in Solstheim looking for me" hissed Balls Nasty.

Kevin gritted his teeth, and the noise shook the birds from the surrounding trees.

"If we're going to do this, lets get this fight over with" Balls nasty proclaimed drawing his orcish greatsword.

Kevin nodded and reached into his inventory, his eyes never leaving those of Balls Nasty. With an expression which hinted at a wry smile, Kevin withdrew a weapon from his backpack. The Orc's demeanour rapidly changed as he caught a glimpse of the weapon Kevin now wielded. Kevin leapt into a fighting stance brandishing...

YOU DECIDE

Cow replies!

Kill all humans,

With the smallest grunt and hint of a nod, cow listened, and acknowledged. Years of running with the Blood Drinkers as their delicious mascot has fuelled a flame inside cow. A tiny flame, that had grown into a roaring blaze, with explosions and cannons and stuff. The fire in Cow was all consuming, and it was this glint that Kevin saw deep in the eyes of his new bovine brother. They held the gaze for what seemed like a moment, but it was a moment that lasted exactly 9 days. Cow moved, slowly at first. Was Cow about to speak back to Kevin? He listened as the words broke the silence.

You decide http://strawpoll.me/4055154

What did the Demi-God say to the Cow?

He missed Cow... Cow...

Kevin first met Cow five years earlier. Cow used to belong to a group of particularly nasty forsworn known as the Blood Drinkers. On one of his many adventures, Kevin happened upon the camp. He then happened upon their corpses, after he'd finished bludgeoning them all to death with his fists. Part way through the malay however, Kevin noticed a cow standing, and staring at him, with a cold, cow-like gaze. Kevin almost felt something approaching admiration for the cow's bravery. Few dared to stare at Kevin, and even fewer lived to tell the tale. He approached Cow, opened the gate, and then in an act that could almost be called kindness he didn't kill her.

More than that, he knelt and then whispered in her cow-like ear, in a cow like language...

YOU DECIDE

37 SWEETROLLS!

The Story So Far...

Mist rises from the cold earth; born of blood and fire, and Kevin emerged from the belly of the world as thunder heralded his arrival. Kevin's skin. As impenetrable as skyforge steel. His expression never deviated from that of determination. As he began his ascent of the mountain before him he then suddenly changed his mind and decided to go back again. For he had an itch he did! An itch for blood. For blood sustained him, just the mere sight of it would bring a tear to his eye, if his body were capable of producing tears, which it can’t. He broke into a gallop, on all fours he strode, as he raced toward a lone, majestic chicken. The very sight of it brought a red mist over his eyes. Red, being the closest comparable colour, for Kevin did not see using the visible spectrum. His pace quickened, his muscles pumped, and his residual talons honed. With a perfectly timed flick of the hips, his blade leaped from its scabbard and landed flat between his teeth, careful not to bite too hard and damage the steel. As he pounced, he studied his adversary’s fine coat, it’s dark amber eyes, and it’s magnificent mane.

Wait, this was no lone majestic chicken it was the lord of all horses, and my friend for an age. It was all over in an instant. Kevin stood motionless perfectly balanced on one hand as Lord Horseworthy's severed head settled on the ground. In a move more beautiful than a winter sunrise, more graceful than a ballerina, and more deadly that death itself Kevin simultaneously ended the regal beast’s life, and surpassed his own record at one armed pushups. After all, the horse was MY friend for an age - not Kevin's. He has no friends. That would require base level human emotion. The scent of the freshly spilled royal equestrian blood hung thick in the air. This did more than awaken Kevin's appetite however.The ground shook violently as something approached him. In a casual flick of his little finger Kevin was upright once more, blade in hand - just in time to lock eyes with the boat to Solstheim. The majestic vessel came about in the port below, sails furled, with its glorious silver chicken masthead glinting in the morning sunlight. He hastily took the hide from the Lord of all horses, it would make several good sets of breeches, as royal horse leather was all that could contain him. With a skip in his step he rose, booted the beasts head far, far into the distance, and made his way to the gangplank of the ship below. He breathed deep, as he FUS ROH DAH'D the boat!

By uttering the words of the dragon tongue, Kevin unwittingly blasted the boat way up into the air, and all the way around the globe. Across Nern the inhabitants gazed sky-wards wondering what on earth the object could be that rocketed across the sky. Kevin stood unflinching, atop the fore-mast as the boat raced through the air. Steering the craft as best he could he aimed for his favourite place in the whole of Tamriel. He dropped out of the sky only to land Gently into port, at the Solstheim docks.

Unmoved by this incredible feat of aerial navigation on what is obviously a maritime vessel, Kevin boldly stepped from the ship and onto solid land. As he broke into a cruising canter, he heard distant cries as the boat cracked in half and sank behind him, drowning all on board. Kevin smiled. Or was it a smile? No man can tell. But as Kevin left Raven Rock, he remembered he had unfinished business on this puny landmass. He pulled a piece of paper from his inventory, and written atop were the words: Find and kill Balls Nasty, the orc.

Balls Nasty - Few know the truth of this Orc. You could say he is the closest Kevin ever had to a mentor. In fact, and few people know this, Balls Nasty the Orc, used to be the star of Top 5 Skyrim Mods of the week. However, when Kevin arrived on the scene he quickly usurped him and banished him for the land of Skyrim - fearing Kevin's blade and unquenchable appetite for blood Ball Nasty did as he was bid. But recently, rumours started to surface of an old orc, experimenting with modding in the wilds of Solstheim. That this was the work of Balls Nasty, Kevin had no doubt.

THIS WOULD NOT STAND.

However now that he had arrived on this pitiful island - he knew not where to go. 4 paths appeared before him. So Kevin made the one rational choice - he headed to the pub! For he had a thirst. A mighty thirst! Not one of the 30 happy pub dwellers raised an eye to Kevin as he walked through the door of the Raven Rock inn and Bar. Kevin strode up the bar, and drop his gaze to an intense stare, directed to the strongest of ales. When the barman offered him a bottle he growled and motioned to the Keg.

After 3 kegs down he decided the beer was average at best, but it was not the low quality beverage that angered Kevin... it was the way the patrons at the corner table kept looking at him. The largest of the three stood up and walked towards him. The stranger opened his mouth and spoke the final worlds he would ever utter: And he said...

"Have you seen my pet skeever fuffy? I can't find him anywhere and I'm terribly worried!"

Kevin looked passively at the sole of his boot. Was that skever brain? Some of sort brain maybe... he didn't know, he didn't care. He lifted his foot to take a closer look - ever wondered what a dead skever on the bottom of Kevin VanNords boot looked like? Well bamn. There is was. The name tag smooshed into the matted hair confirmed it. Seeing the pulpy remains of his former pet, the stranger let out a yelp of pain.

"My fluffy!! He was my oldest friend... and just one day from retirement!"

Kevin felt something he had never felt before. Nothing like regret, remorse or other puny emotions. More of a pondering on how things might have been if he HADN'T stomped the furry creature into oblivion.

Kevin decided there was only one rightful course of action. He must burn the place to the ground!

All it took was one swipe of his hand across his cheek and sparks flew from his diamond-tipped stubble! Then, using solely the power of his cheeks he blasted the floor and walls of the pub with super strength ale, and at once the place was ablaze. Using the stranger as a fire-shield he safely exited the pub as the rest of the customers fled to safety. Amazingly the stranger still clung to life despite the tremendous burning. Coughing and spluttering he looked up at Kevin with eyes that said "You almost killed me!"

Kevn's eyes replied - I'm not done yet! And with that he hurled the stranger upwards with a force never seen before or since in Skyrim. The sonic boom shook trees and echoed across all of Solstheim as he broke the sound barrier. The half charred man soon became a half charred Astronaut as he left the confines of earth atmosphere and directly into the sun.

Kevin felt hungry. Throwing enemies into the Sun gave him a MIGHTY appetite. His stomach rumbled, causing the smouldering ruins to fall to the ground. With that he opened his sack and browsed the ingredients. Only one item would properly suppress his appetite - licking his lips, he reached in and grabbed...

A sweetroll! With its soft, delicate sponge. The light, slightly sweet icing, and was that a hint of lemon in the finish? Kevin tasted none of these and he took his first bite.

“Please mister, could I have some sweetroll?” came a pitiful voice somewhere near Kevin’s feet.

He turned and glared at this tiny man child, with a stare so menacing, the boy aged rapidly into what Kevin guessed was his early sixties.

“It’s just that you threw my dad along with all our possessions, food and money into the sun just now, and I’m hungry and sad.”

Kevin, having felt hunger himself for both sweetrolls and blood, forced 37 of the spongy treats into the (now old) man’s face. Suddenly blessed with The Gift of Charity, Kevin grabbed his things, and considered his direction to find Balls Nasty the Orc. As the old man collapsed, blue and bloated, his body roughly pointed west, giving Kevin his new bearing. But as Kevin began to stride across the corpse, he suddenly realised...

YOU DECIDE

BURN IT TO THE GROUND!

The Story So Far...

Mist rises from the cold earth; born of blood and fire, and Kevin emerged from the belly of the world as thunder heralded his arrival. Kevin's skin. As impenetrable as skyforge steel. His expression never deviated from that of determination. As he began his ascent of the mountain before him he then suddenly changed his mind and decided to go back again. For he had an itch he did! An itch for blood. For blood sustained him, just the mere sight of it would bring a tear to his eye, if his body were capable of producing tears, which it can’t. He broke into a gallop, on all fours he strode, as he raced toward a lone, majestic chicken. The very sight of it brought a red mist over his eyes. Red, being the closest comparable colour, for Kevin did not see using the visible spectrum. His pace quickened, his muscles pumped, and his residual talons honed. With a perfectly timed flick of the hips, his blade leaped from its scabbard and landed flat between his teeth, careful not to bite too hard and damage the steel. As he pounced, he studied his adversary’s fine coat, it’s dark amber eyes, and it’s magnificent mane.

Wait, this was no lone majestic chicken it was the lord of all horses, and my friend for an age. It was all over in an instant. Kevin stood motionless perfectly balanced on one hand as Lord Horseworthy's severed head settled on the ground. In a move more beautiful than a winter sunrise, more graceful than a ballerina, and more deadly that death itself Kevin simultaneously ended the regal beast’s life, and surpassed his own record at one armed pushups. After all, the horse was MY friend for an age - not Kevin's. He has no friends. That would require base level human emotion. The scent of the freshly spilled royal equestrian blood hung thick in the air. This did more than awaken Kevin's appetite however.The ground shook violently as something approached him. In a casual flick of his little finger Kevin was upright once more, blade in hand - just in time to lock eyes with the boat to Solstheim. The majestic vessel came about in the port below, sails furled, with its glorious silver chicken masthead glinting in the morning sunlight. He hastily took the hide from the Lord of all horses, it would make several good sets of breeches, as royal horse leather was all that could contain him. With a skip in his step he rose, booted the beasts head far, far into the distance, and made his way to the gangplank of the ship below. He breathed deep, as he FUS ROH DAH'D the boat!

By uttering the words of the dragon tongue, Kevin unwittingly blasted the boat way up into the air, and all the way around the globe. Across Nern the inhabitants gazed sky-wards wondering what on earth the object could be that rocketed across the sky. Kevin stood unflinching, atop the fore-mast as the boat raced through the air. Steering the craft as best he could he aimed for his favourite place in the whole of Tamriel. He dropped out of the sky only to land Gently into port, at the Solstheim docks.

Unmoved by this incredible feat of aerial navigation on what is obviously a maritime vessel, Kevin boldly stepped from the ship and onto solid land. As he broke into a cruising canter, he heard distant cries as the boat cracked in half and sank behind him, drowning all on board. Kevin smiled. Or was it a smile? No man can tell. But as Kevin left Raven Rock, he remembered he had unfinished business on this puny landmass. He pulled a piece of paper from his inventory, and written atop were the words: Find and kill Balls Nasty, the orc.

Balls Nasty - Few know the truth of this Orc. You could say he is the closest Kevin ever had to a mentor. In fact, and few people know this, Balls Nasty the Orc, used to be the star of Top 5 Skyrim Mods of the week. However, when Kevin arrived on the scene he quickly usurped him and banished him for the land of Skyrim - fearing Kevin's blade and unquenchable appetite for blood Ball Nasty did as he was bid. But recently, rumours started to surface of an old orc, experimenting with modding in the wilds of Solstheim. That this was the work of Balls Nasty, Kevin had no doubt.

THIS WOULD NOT STAND.

However now that he had arrived on this pitiful island - he knew not where to go. 4 paths appeared before him. So Kevin made the one rational choice - he headed to the pub! For he had a thirst. A mighty thirst! Not one of the 30 happy pub dwellers raised an eye to Kevin as he walked through the door of the Raven Rock inn and Bar. Kevin strode up the bar, and drop his gaze to an intense stare, directed to the strongest of ales. When the barman offered him a bottle he growled and motioned to the Keg.

After 3 kegs down he decided the beer was average at best, but it was not the low quality beverage that angered Kevin... it was the way the patrons at the corner table kept looking at him. The largest of the three stood up and walked towards him. The stranger opened his mouth and spoke the final worlds he would ever utter: And he said...

"Have you seen my pet skeever fuffy? I can't find him anywhere and I'm terribly worried!"

Kevin looked passively at the sole of his boot. Was that skever brain? Some of sort brain maybe... he didn't know, he didn't care. He lifted his foot to take a closer look - ever wondered what a dead skever on the bottom of Kevin VanNords boot looked like? Well bamn. There is was. The name tag smooshed into the matted hair confirmed it. Seeing the pulpy remains of his former pet, the stranger let out a yelp of pain.

"My fluffy!! He was my oldest friend... and just one day from retirement!"

Kevin felt something he had never felt before. Nothing like regret, remorse or other puny emotions. More of a pondering on how things might have been if he HADN'T stomped the furry creature into oblivion.

Kevin decided there was only one rightful course of action. He must burn the place to the ground!

All it took was one swipe of his hand across his cheek and sparks flew from his diamond-tipped stubble! Then, using solely the power of his cheeks he blasted the floor and walls of the pub with super strength ale, and at once the place was ablaze. Using the stranger as a fire-shield he safely exited the pub as the rest of the customers fled to safety. Amazingly the stranger still clung to life despite the tremendous burning. Coughing and spluttering he looked up at Kevin with eyes that said "You almost killed me!"

Kevn's eyes replied - I'm not done yet! And with that he hurled the stranger upwards with a force never seen before or since in Skyrim. The sonic boom shook trees and echoed across all of Solstheim as he broke the sound barrier. The half charred man soon became a half charred Astronaut as he left the confines of earth atmosphere and directly into the sun.

Kevin felt hungry. Throwing enemies into the Sun gave him a MIGHTY appetite. His stomach rumbled, causing the smouldering ruins to fall to the ground. With that he opened his sack and browsed the ingredients. Only one item would properly suppress his appetite - licking his lips, he reached in and grabbed...

YOU DECIDE

Skeever Pâté

The Story So Far...

Mist rises from the cold earth; born of blood and fire, and Kevin emerged from the belly of the world as thunder heralded his arrival. Kevin's skin. As impenetrable as skyforge steel. His expression never deviated from that of determination. As he began his ascent of the mountain before him he then suddenly changed his mind and decided to go back again. For he had an itch he did! An itch for blood. For blood sustained him, just the mere sight of it would bring a tear to his eye, if his body were capable of producing tears, which it can’t. He broke into a gallop, on all fours he strode, as he raced toward a lone, majestic chicken. The very sight of it brought a red mist over his eyes. Red, being the closest comparable colour, for Kevin did not see using the visible spectrum. His pace quickened, his muscles pumped, and his residual talons honed. With a perfectly timed flick of the hips, his blade leaped from its scabbard and landed flat between his teeth, careful not to bite too hard and damage the steel. As he pounced, he studied his adversary’s fine coat, it’s dark amber eyes, and it’s magnificent mane.

Wait, this was no lone majestic chicken it was the lord of all horses, and my friend for an age. It was all over in an instant. Kevin stood motionless perfectly balanced on one hand as Lord Horseworthy's severed head settled on the ground. In a move more beautiful than a winter sunrise, more graceful than a ballerina, and more deadly that death itself Kevin simultaneously ended the regal beast’s life, and surpassed his own record at one armed pushups. After all, the horse was MY friend for an age - not Kevin's. He has no friends. That would require base level human emotion. The scent of the freshly spilled royal equestrian blood hung thick in the air. This did more than awaken Kevin's appetite however.The ground shook violently as something approached him. In a casual flick of his little finger Kevin was upright once more, blade in hand - just in time to lock eyes with the boat to Solstheim. The majestic vessel came about in the port below, sails furled, with its glorious silver chicken masthead glinting in the morning sunlight. He hastily took the hide from the Lord of all horses, it would make several good sets of breeches, as royal horse leather was all that could contain him. With a skip in his step he rose, booted the beasts head far, far into the distance, and made his way to the gangplank of the ship below. He breathed deep, as he FUS ROH DAH'D the boat!

By uttering the words of the dragon tongue, Kevin unwittingly blasted the boat way up into the air, and all the way around the globe. Across Nern the inhabitants gazed sky-wards wondering what on earth the object could be that rocketed across the sky. Kevin stood unflinching, atop the fore-mast as the boat raced through the air. Steering the craft as best he could he aimed for his favourite place in the whole of Tamriel. He dropped out of the sky only to land Gently into port, at the Solstheim docks.

Unmoved by this incredible feat of aerial navigation on what is obviously a maritime vessel, Kevin boldly stepped from the ship and onto solid land. As he broke into a cruising canter, he heard distant cries as the boat cracked in half and sank behind him, drowning all on board. Kevin smiled. Or was it a smile? No man can tell. But as Kevin left Raven Rock, he remembered he had unfinished business on this puny landmass. He pulled a piece of paper from his inventory, and written atop were the words: Find and kill Balls Nasty, the orc.

Balls Nasty - Few know the truth of this Orc. You could say he is the closest Kevin ever had to a mentor. In fact, and few people know this, Balls Nasty the Orc, used to be the star of Top 5 Skyrim Mods of the week. However, when Kevin arrived on the scene he quickly usurped him and banished him for the land of Skyrim - fearing Kevin's blade and unquenchable appetite for blood Ball Nasty did as he was bid. But recently, rumours started to surface of an old orc, experimenting with modding in the wilds of Solstheim. That this was the work of Balls Nasty, Kevin had no doubt.

THIS WOULD NOT STAND.

However now that he had arrived on this pitiful island - he knew not where to go. 4 paths appeared before him. So Kevin made the one rational choice - he headed to the pub! For he had a thirst. A mighty thirst! Not one of the 30 happy pub dwellers raised an eye to Kevin as he walked through the door of the Raven Rock inn and Bar. Kevin strode up the bar, and drop his gaze to an intense stare, directed to the strongest of ales. When the barman offered him a bottle he growled and motioned to the Keg.

After 3 kegs down he decided the beer was average at best, but it was not the low quality beverage that angered Kevin... it was the way the patrons at the corner table kept looking at him. The largest of the three stood up and walked towards him. The stranger opened his mouth and spoke the final worlds he would ever utter: And he said...

"Have you seen my pet skeever fuffy? I can't find him anywhere and I'm terribly worried!"

Kevin looked passively at the sole of his boot. Was that skever brain? Some of sort brain maybe... he didn't know, he didn't care. He lifted his foot to take a closer look - ever wondered what a dead skever on the bottom of Kevin VanNords boot looked like? Well bamn. There is was. The name tag smooshed into the matted hair confirmed it. Seeing the pulpy remains of his former pet, the stranger let out a yelp of pain.

"My fluffy!! He was my oldest friend... and just one day from retirement!"

Kevin felt something he had never felt before. Nothing like regret, remorse or other puny emotions. More of a pondering on how things might have been if he HADN'T stomped the furry creature into oblivion.

Kevin decided there was only one rightful course of action. He must..

YOU DECIDE

AND HE SAID...

The Story So Far

Mist rises from the cold earth; born of blood and fire, and Kevin emerged from the belly of the world as thunder heralded his arrival. Kevin's skin. As impenetrable as skyforge steel. His expression never deviated from that of determination. As he began his ascent of the mountain before him he then suddenly changed his mind and decided to go back again. For he had an itch he did! An itch for blood. For blood sustained him, just the mere sight of it would bring a tear to his eye, if his body were capable of producing tears, which it can’t. He broke into a gallop, on all fours he strode, as he raced toward a lone, majestic chicken. The very sight of it brought a red mist over his eyes. Red, being the closest comparable colour, for Kevin did not see using the visible spectrum. His pace quickened, his muscles pumped, and his residual talons honed. With a perfectly timed flick of the hips, his blade leaped from its scabbard and landed flat between his teeth, careful not to bite too hard and damage the steel. As he pounced, he studied his adversary’s fine coat, it’s dark amber eyes, and it’s magnificent mane.

Wait, this was no lone majestic chicken it was the lord of all horses, and my friend for an age. It was all over in an instant. Kevin stood motionless perfectly balanced on one hand as Lord Horseworthy's severed head settled on the ground. In a move more beautiful than a winter sunrise, more graceful than a ballerina, and more deadly that death itself Kevin simultaneously ended the regal beast’s life, and surpassed his own record at one armed pushups. After all, the horse was MY friend for an age - not Kevin's. He has no friends. That would require base level human emotion. The scent of the freshly spilled royal equestrian blood hung thick in the air. This did more than awaken Kevin's appetite however.The ground shook violently as something approached him. In a casual flick of his little finger Kevin was upright once more, blade in hand - just in time to lock eyes with the boat to Solstheim. The majestic vessel came about in the port below, sails furled, with its glorious silver chicken masthead glinting in the morning sunlight. He hastily took the hide from the Lord of all horses, it would make several good sets of breeches, as royal horse leather was all that could contain him. With a skip in his step he rose, booted the beasts head far, far into the distance, and made his way to the gangplank of the ship below. He breathed deep, as he FUS ROH DAH'D the boat!

By uttering the words of the dragon tongue, Kevin unwittingly blasted the boat way up into the air, and all the way around the globe. Across Nern the inhabitants gazed sky-wards wondering what on earth the object could be that rocketed across the sky. Kevin stood unflinching, atop the fore-mast as the boat raced through the air. Steering the craft as best he could he aimed for his favourite place in the whole of Tamriel. He dropped out of the sky only to land Gently into port, at the Solstheim docks.

Unmoved by this incredible feat of aerial navigation on what is obviously a maritime vessel, Kevin boldly stepped from the ship and onto solid land. As he broke into a cruising canter, he heard distant cries as the boat cracked in half and sank behind him, drowning all on board. Kevin smiled. Or was it a smile? No man can tell. But as Kevin left Raven Rock, he remembered he had unfinished business on this puny landmass. He pulled a piece of paper from his inventory, and written atop were the words: Find and kill Balls Nasty, the orc.

Balls Nasty - Few know the truth of this Orc. You could say he is the closest Kevin ever had to a mentor. In fact, and few people know this, Balls Nasty the Orc, used to be the star of Top 5 Skyrim Mods of the week. However, when Kevin arrived on the scene he quickly usurped him and banished him for the land of Skyrim - fearing Kevin's blade and unquenchable appetite for blood Ball Nasty did as he was bid. But recently, rumours started to surface of an old orc, experimenting with modding in the wilds of Solstheim. That this was the work of Balls Nasty, Kevin had no doubt.

THIS WOULD NOT STAND.

However now that he had arrived on this pitiful island - he knew not where to go. 4 paths appeared before him. So Kevin made the one rational choice - he headed to the pub! For he had a thirst. A mighty thirst! Not one of the 30 happy pub dwellers raised an eye to Kevin as he walked through the door of the Raven Rock inn and Bar. Kevin strode up the bar, and drop his gaze to an intense stare, directed to the strongest of ales. When the barman offered him a bottle he growled and motioned to the Keg.

After 3 kegs down he decided the beer was average at best, but it was not the low quality beverage that angered Kevin... it was the way the patrons at the corner table kept looking at him. The largest of the three stood up and walked towards him. The stranger opened his mouth and spoke the final worlds he would ever utter: And he said...

YOU DECIDE