It turns out chickens are sort of sacred in Skyrim – if only I’d known that before murdering one with magic
In a cowardly attempt to escape the current hideousness of reality, I have once again immersed myself in the fantasy world of The Elder Scrolls. Originally released in 2011, then followed by a remastered edition in 2016, Skyrim perhaps holds the prestigious title of being my all-time favourite game, alongside Zelda and staring at the wall and waiting for the day to end. Although there are plenty of RPGs that offer the same sort of escapism, there are few that feel as limitless as Skyrim, where it’s possible to kill a dragon, harvest its bones, turn said bones into armour and weapons, and then enchant them with a spell you read in a book. You can also end up being sent on a two-hour detour as a result of killing a chicken.
So, with a thirst for adventure and a few minutes to kill before my chips finished cooking in the oven, I started a new game as a cat wizard named Ian. Soon after completing the introductory mission – in which I narrowly escaped having my head chopped off, thanks to a conveniently interruptive dragon – I made my way to Riverwood to speak to a woman named Hilde, who sets the main quest in motion.
Upon arrival in the quiet little farm village, I was greeted by a chicken. Without as much as a second thought, the girlfriend (watching over my shoulder) suggested I use my fire magic on the bird to see if it would cook. It had been such a long time since I last played the game that I honestly couldn’t remember if it was possible to roast live poultry, so I gave it a go. The act instantly slapped me with a 40-coin bounty and Hilde, who I very much needed to speak to as part of the first quest, started frenziedly attacking me.
She chased me for half an hour (real-time) beyond the starting location of the game. Along the way, I got into a scrap with a few Imperial Guards and a travelling salesman who got in the way of one of my lightning spells. At this point, my chips had finished cooking.
Several nervous farts later – after desperately casting fire, electricity and healing spells, while also trying to recuperate enough stamina to sprint and pathetically jump on top of large rocks – I finally managed to kill Hilde and the salesmen. I then legged it from the guards back to Riverwood, where I wasn’t exactly welcomed with open arms.
With seemingly the whole of Skyrim firing arrows at me, I decided to jump in the nearby river and wait for things to blow over. I took this downtime to Google how to continue the main quest in the event of unintentionally murdering Hilde. It’s at this point I discovered dozens of articles warning about the dangers of killing a chicken in Skyrim. Turns out they’re sacred or something.
Anyway, Google told me I could continue the main quest by speaking to the Jarl in Whiterun, so I set out to do exactly that. When I got there, I was immediately arrested by the guards. Somehow, they’d learnt of my crimes, despite there being no way someone could have written and mailed them a letter in the time it took me to walk there. I would have had to have delivered the message myself. And they don’t have internet or anything like that, so they couldn’t have heard about it on Twitter.
Not in the mood for another epic, thirty-minute battle with the authorities, and with very little coin on my person, I elected to go straight to jail. I tried to escape, but the lockpick broke, so I went to bed.
Having served my time, I was now free to roam around Whiterun. I thought I should probably check that I still had all of my inventory (stolen items are usually confiscated), but in doing so, I somehow managed to drop all of my clothing in a water feature that magically deleted every item.
Dejected but not defeated, I decided to ditch the main quest and spend my remaining coins on a carriage ride to the College of Winterhold, to begin my training as a mage. Off I set, completely billy bollocks for the entire journey.
Arriving in the snowy town of Winterhold, in nothing more than just a complimentary pair of underpants, it soon became apparent that I would have to pay for a spell to impress a lady guarding the College entrance. Without enough coinage to make the purchase, I had no choice but to awkwardly crouch down in front of the woman and attempt to pickpocket the spell from her. This failed miserably, as I accidentally cast a bolt of lightning at her twot and was promptly killed in retaliation.
If seeing Ian the wizard cat lying dead on the floor wasn’t enough of a downer, I then realised that all of my recent autosaves left me in an unfavourable position, either in the middle of combat or penniless. I had no choice but to start the game from scratch, erasing almost two and a half hours of genuine hard graft.
Next time, I’ll leave the chicken alone.