Me when I've accidentally achieved 99% completion in Skyrim and the only thing left is the civil war questline

Immortal, definition :Living for ever; never dying or decaying

cited from Oxford languages which is the dictionary currently used for Google

Undying, definition : lasting forever

Also the term immortal was often used for God's in mythology and gods could in fact die, but for example most Greek and Roman gods do not age

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Loved this angle !

Anything in particular that sticks out or that could use some expansion? I might add to this after work.

Came here to say the same thing! It’s one of my favorite movies I never get to talk about, glad to confirm someone else in the world has seen it.

Really fond of Sprout and the universe here, great read!

“I already told you—I only work alone.”

“I mean—are you sure? His captor is the dragon…”

The king’s deputy’s concern was a valid one. The dragon was one of the fiercest in the land, and the lair he’d laid claim to was a labyrinth of dark tunnels and traps. But I only ever work alone.

Oh—and it just so happened that the dragon was me.

“I’m sure,” I said, trying to disguise my voice. I’d had previous run-ins with the deputy as part of the king’s cabinet, and even though I wore a mask to hide my face, I didn’t want him to catch onto my plan.

“Well—good luck then, I guess,” he said, tossing me a bag of coins. It was lighter than I expected. “Here’s the ransom—100 coin crowns. 50 for you if you return with the Baron. And remember, if you show up without the coins or the Baron—well—the king will expect repayment.”

“Just 100 crowns?” I asked. Was that all I was worth to him? Cheap bastard.

The deputy shrugged.

“This is just going to get me killed!” I exclaimed. “The dragon won’t make a deal for 100 gold. He’ll just turn me to ash.”

“Look, I don’t set the prices—the king does,” the deputy said. “But—between you and me—I don’t think the king likes this Baron Whitescale very much.”

He doesn’t like me very much? After all I’ve done for him? Just another reason to go through with the plan…

But of course, I didn’t say that aloud. Though I did try and fish some more information from the deputy. “Is that so?” I asked with as much nonchalance as I could conjure. I also conjured a subtle spell to lower the deputy’s guard. Tell me what the King really thinks.

“There are certain whispers going around the court. Something about the Baron having a thing for his daughter. Wouldn’t surprise me if this is just a show for the princess, and that he secretly wants the baron gone for good.” I let the spell dissipate before it became too obvious. “Wait, why did I just tell you that…” the deputy said, mostly to himself.

I pretended not to hear the last part. “So, you’re sending me on a suicide mission?” I asked, feigning annoyance.

“Hey—you were the one who said you were interested.” he replied.

“If this is the mission, I’m going to need a little bit upfront,” I haggled. I knew the king had been annoyed with the deputy as of late. He wouldn’t want to have to be the one to send bad news back to the king.

“Fine,” he said, pulling out his own coinpurse. “Here’s 20. That good enough for ya?”

I didn’t really care about the 20 gold coins. It was a pittance for a dragon. But then again, a dragon can hardly pass up the chance at more gold.

I nodded to the deputy, then headed to my lair.

I tossed the gold into my hoard, reverted to my dragon form, and then took a moment to bathe in my collection of gold and jewels. It had been a whole 24 hours since I’d had the chance to—much too long. But it was just a short frolic, before I set the rest of my plan into action.

I set an old tree alight with my firebreath and plucked off a few of my scales. I also drew some blood with the sword, not much but enough, before reverting to my human form. I didn’t really like my human form, but it let me mess around in the noble’s affairs, so I put up with it.

I took some ashes from the burning tree and adorned my clothes and face. I let the fire singe a few of my hairs, but not too many. Just enough to be believable. I preferred to look both handsome and heroic.

With a handful of scales, a sword doused in dragon blood, and the marks of a firefight, I returned to the city at first light. As I walked through the city, the early risers took notice and began to follow me to the castle. They had no doubt heard I had been captured by the dragon. And my return, alone and with a bloodied sword, meant only one thing. I heard their whispers. My plan was working.

I strolled up to the King’s palace and pushed my way past the guards. They did not attack, for if the obvious was true, they would be no match for my sword.

The first eyes to greet me were the astonished greens of the beautiful Princess Caroline. “Baron Whitescale? What? Are you okay?”

“Just a few scratches, but the dragon was no match for my sword,” I grinned. “I managed to best it, unlike that grubby mercenary your father sent to save me.”

By this time, the King had approached as well, and the townsfolk who had followed me were crowding the entryway. It was all going to plan.

“Here’s your gold back, and a bonus,” I said. Tossing the pouch of 100 gold coins and dragon scales at his feet. “And I’m glad you’re here to be witness.” Confusion twisted the king's face into a wrinkly ball.

I knelt down before Caroline, and pulled out the second gaudiest diamond ring that my hoard had to offer. “Caroline—my love. It was your beauty that inspired me to fight back against the dreaded dragon. And I took this ring from my...his own hoard to ask one thing—your hand in marriage.”

I knew what her answer would be. And now that I was the hero of the entire city, there was no way the king could reject my proposal. Now all I needed to do was kill him in due time, and my plan would come to fruition…

…I WILL BE KING!

The heroes are actually a third group of thieves who believe that second group are heroes so both sides try to fool other while trying to yoink the loot

Thank you! I was proud of that one haha

I love "gnotorious". Amazing

Ryder slumped down into the sofa with a heavy thump, his heavy kevlar armour making the sofa groan in protest. His face could not be seen behind his motorcycle helmet but his shaking hands gave him away.

“You alright Ryder?” Ghoul asked.

“Sure,” he answered in his soft synthetic voice. “Just wasn’t sure we were walking out of there free.”

Ghoul felt for him. Of their four person team Ryder was the youngest and newest to a life of a supercriminal. He had never faced major league super heroes before and the stress had clearly gotten to him. She went to the fridge and got a can of beer and tossed it to Ryder.

“Get us some too,” Amber said. Ghoul obliged with a sigh and brought three beers to Amber and Umbra and had a seat with them.

The walking void in a trench coat that was Umbra slugged back the entire can. “What in the world went wrong? We have been planning to break the Baltic Bank for months and some amateurs manage to ruin the score of a century in a breath. HOW?” Umbra asked indignantly.

“A breath is usually the time it takes to ruin any heist,” Amber said. His glowing yellow eyes reflecting off his beer can. “Besides, we had a greenhorn with us too.”

“Ryder is a good kid, capable too. He did his part perfectly,” Umbra said.

“Seconded,” Ghoul said. “I suppose the world’s greatest plan falls apart when introduced to bumbling third parties. I mean the other guys didn’t even have a way to counter the infrared sensors and how they intended to enter the vault silently is beyond me,” she said and heaved a sigh.

“They probably intended for that brute to take the vault doors off its hinges. I will be feeling that left hook for weeks,” Amber said and stroked his sore side.

A moment of sullen silence followed.

“You think Thunderstorm recognised any of us?” Ryder asked.

“Low chance, only Ghoul and Amber have any notoriety and the voice changers you provided and the new armour disguised them well,” Umbra said. “And good thinking Ghoul, telling them we were new heroes. Would never have thought of it myself.”

Ghoul chuckled. “And that is why I’m the boss.”

“Still, are you certain that doing time is not preferable to being congratulated as heroes? Yuck,” Amber spat.

“Stop bellyaching,” Umbra said.

“What do you think kid? Jail time or pretending to be a hero?” Amber tossed at Ryder.

Ryder didn’t answer. He had felt terrified when the most powerful hero in Europe came to apprehend him. He was on the verge of running in a panic at the time. But when Thunderstorm swallowed the story of them being heroes and gave his heartfelt thanks was an experience he had not felt in years. That kind smile and warmth. What if the fiction became true? He looked over at the trio.

“Shut up Amber,” Ghoul said. “Get some rest, we can rob a money transport tomorrow or something to make up for today.”

Ryder cradled his unopened beer can in his hands and let his mind wander.

I want an actual book like this, I love it!

I feel like this left off on a pretty solid note. Perhaps you'd enjoy my other work? Keep things fresh?

Thinking about it more, let me summary:

2 groups of thieves try to rob a bank simultaneously. One group is super high tech, while the other is backwoods-hillbilly type. Hilarity ensues

Here's the scene, though I'd recommend watching the whole movie if you like classic gag comedy.

That's so cool I'll have to watch it!

I've never seen it lol

I share a smile with my protégé as they bounce through the door of my home, ready to soak up another lesson in swordplay and bits of wisdom like the sponge of knowledge they were, no doubt about it. I couldn't have chosen a better successor.

Something must have shown on my face, they slowly stop smiling and come to a stop at my kitchen table. "Master? Is something wrong?"

"Depends on how you look at it." I stand and begin walking into the training room. Creaky floorboards and peeling wallpaper line the cramped hallway, as usual my student has to follow behind me. I think of when she was small enough to walk beside me in this hall as I continue, "Today will be your last lesson. It is the same lesson which made me a Master, and when you are ready you'll teach it to some bright eyed student as well."

"What lesson?" Ah, there is a hint of fear in her tone as I open the training room. The wood panel floor is polished with sweat and blood, sanded by countless feet sliding across it in duels. You can smell the age of the leather and plaster, the dust of the stone, but an open window freshens things up. I gaze upon the hundreds of weapons lined up on one side of the room; polearms, swords, clubs, staffs, anything a martial artist could ever wield, and each one worth more than the shabby home they were stored in. "Master?"

"Select your favorite weapon," I order instead of answering, "the one you are most comfortable and skilled with." I take up a longsword and walk to the center of the small arena, soaking in the room for what I know to be the last time. My student takes up a claymore, as I knew she would, and before she can ask again I raise my hand to gently stop her words. "I will explain now, but first: how old do you think I am?"

"40, 43 at most?" she guesses, and I bark out a laugh.

"HA! 43 at most! You are far too kind..." as her's has, now my smile slips away. "Child, I am old, no two ways about it. I have not bothered to keep track exactly, but I am well on my way to 100 years old if I am not already. I have dedicated the entirety of it to learning combat and then teaching it to you. I would like to think I was successful."

She tries to smile at me. "You are a great teacher, Master. I could throw a rock in this room and hit a weapon I know how to wield."

"You could, but martial prowess is not all of life," I say, brow furrowed. "That is what I worry about these days. Not if you are a good fighter, but a balanced warrior. If I helped to sculpt a proper young lady at the same time I was teaching a successor. I cannot measure how well you will live, but I can measure your skill with that blade." I quit staring into the distance and focus on her worried eyes, let the silence hang for a moment.

"... Today, I will die, and you will kill me." Only several years of training stop her from dropping her sword, and even still it is a close thing.

"W-What?!" she breathes out, quiet with shock.

"It is my final lesson, as I said, the same one my Master gave me." I pointed to her sword. "You'll notice that blade is no longer dulled for training, it is as ready to take life as you are."

"I'm not going to kill you! Are you insane?!" I smiled, remembering when I said exactly that to my own Master. She began to shake, sword rattling in her grip. I walked close to give her a hug, shushing her hyperventilation as I pat her back.

"Do not cry," I told her softly, though she did anyway. "I know exactly how painful it feels to be in your shoes, but you must know what it feels like to take life. To feel the weight of a sword for the first time all over again and realize it was heavier than you could have ever imagined. If you are to take any lives throughout your journey, I will not allow the first to be taken in anger and stain you."

"But why does it have to be you?! I have so much more to learn from you! Everything you know will be gone!" She stared at me with a pleading look. I nodded.

"I have taught you the basics and essentials, everything else is experience and knowledge. From this point I would only be a guide, and not a very good one."

"Better a bad guide than none!" She shouts.

"Then I have taught you nothing," I say quietly. I begin walking around her slowly, footsteps scuffing on the aged wood. "I would rather you say that you abandon the sword and all of my teachings before you say that again. Do you think I am heartless, mad, cruel? I thought those same things of my Master, but I found out just how crucial this lesson was later. I learned that death was a last resort in all conflicts, a sad reality when words no longer sufficed. I also found that death can be a mercy, even when we do not want it to be." I held up my sword and looked my reflection in his tired eyes as I stopped in front of my student. "The sword must never be brandished with a clouded mind or ill intent. It is polished and thus a mirror; our actions are reflected back at us, and we will always look back in time and see the ones we have killed in its surface. If you are to regret taking any lives, let mine be the first, last, and only one."

With a sniffle and a steadying breath, my student regained her firm posture. She was grieving like I was already dead. "You're the greatest person I've ever known. I will regret your death more than any other." My smile returned as we took our stances, boots shuffling on rosy wooden planks soaked with blood older than either of us.

"I know, my protégé. I give my blessing on the world you will make for yourself, starting from this humble place. But enough talk; let us start your story and end mine."

Part 2?

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No dice, I only saw the notification for this reply.

Gotta step out right now, but I can't wait to get back home to read some more!

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I found Sprout crying in the back of the stable.

The girl had joined up with the guild a while back, but it didn't take long before she felt like a part of the place. There's always something that needs doing around the Reach, and she seemed to enjoy playing delivery girl. She'd pick a job from the board and finish in hours what would take most folk days.

When she was finished, Sprout would come back to my post here at the guild, hand in the completion chit, and smile that sad smile of hers. But in the evenings, she'd climb to her little perch on the big arch, and she'd just stare at the reflecting pool.

You don't pry, especially of adventurers. In a place like this, everyone's got a past, and not all of them are pleasant to think about. Big or small, we've all done things we wish we could take back. Out here, on the edge of civilization, we like to say that the future is more important.

But there was something hiding in that sad smile that made me ask.

"Sprout? That you, lass?"

There was a rustling of fabric and straw as the figure in the corner rose. "Ranulf? What are you doing here?"

"Passing through, heard a noise. I am still a guard after all. If everything's all right, I'll be going, then."

"And what would you have done if it wasn't me?" she asked. "A voidwalker, or a mocking-beast?" Her tone was sharp with more than simple curiosity, and the venom in her tone forced me back a step. The moment I flinched, she was contrite.

"I... I'm sorry, Ranulf." She sighed heavily. "I'd had something on my mind lately, I shouldn't be taking it out on you."

As I started to wave off her apology, Sprout brushed herself off and stepped into the light. "Walk a lady back to her inn?"

Midnight had long since passed; and as capable a warrior as she was, a tipsy maiden walking alone would be an attractive target for whoever was behind the kidnappings in the region.

And with that excuse firmly in mind, I agreed to accompany her.

"Ranulf, if I asked you to leave this place, could you?"

I thought hard for a moment, and shook my head. "The Reach is my home, Sprout. Come what may, I can't abandon it."

She smiled that sad smile again.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," she whispered, going silent once more. A few minutes later, she spoke again, her voice low.

"I've been having... dreams lately. Nightmares, really. There are things that I need to do; that I was put in this world to do. But I've been putting them off."

I held my tongue. When someone was telling you about themselves, you didn't interrupt.

"I know these days can't go on forever. There are only so many notices on the board, only so many times Roxanne will need help getting Mr. Whiskers out of the tree, only so many crates that need moved from here to Oriens."

I nodded, it was something we dealt with at the guild every day.

"I love this place. But once I start down that road, once I take up my bow start my hunt again... my dreams tell me the thing I'm chasing will double back."

"It's just a dream, lass. This isn't a story where the villain knows exactly what the hero is doing."

"Everything ends in flames," she muttered under her breath. "I join the General, we push on the bridge. And the beast strikes back. No matter what I do, it will end in flames."

"Promise me, Ranulf." Sprout turned and in a single motion lifted me by my collar. There were tears in her eyes and her voice was shaking. "The Coalition wants me over at Oriens tomorrow. When... if the Empire attacks while I'm gone, stay alive. They'll likely hit with a good-sized strike team, so it will be quick; I need you to have signal flares ready to go beside the campfires."

I swallow, hard. In the weeks she has been here, I've haven't seen Sprout this animated, or this upset. It was a small enough ask.

"Alright, I promise."