While heading back to Markarth after exploring the northwester corner of the Reach - nabbed an atherium shard and dragon priest mask in one go, w00t - I ran into a horse. It crested the hill ahead of me at a full gallop, a speed I'd never seen a horse run before without me atop it. I was able to angle over to it and hop on as it ran by; it was an owned horse, but no owner to be found. It was at this point I noticed the arrow stuck in its ass.
I head back over the hill it had come from, and shortly after run into a
swarm of Forsworn. We were not near any of the redoubts or camps, so I figure whatever this horse did, they'd sent out a scouting party for it. We blew past them and got to Markarth in once piece. I parked him in the stall at the Markarth stables, and the moment I hopped off, two things happened.
First, a courier ran up to me with a letter from an old friend. Second, the horse backed out of the stables and took off like a bat out of hell. By the time the courier was done talking the horse was long gone. I couldn't sprint fast enough to even get a glimpse of it.
Thanks for the lift, fella. I hope it doesn't run into any more Forsworn, but after seeing him go, the worst they'll manage is another arrow in his butt.
I've been enjoying taking shots of landscapes. I find the rugged area around the Reach is particularly picturesque.
A few others:
Early morning haze far above Falkreath:
I've also been enjoying the little stagings Bethesda has dressed the environment up with. Just little stories, usually tragic, in one small scene:
They give the world of Skyrim a wonderfully lived-in feel. There is danger everywhere, and it's not just all pointed at me. I've also been appreciating how this harsh world translates to everyone re-purposing someone's former abode for their own. Ruins, mines, caves and houses alike get repopulated once their former owners have gone. In a particularly nice touch, Helgen gets repopulated with bandits not long after it is abandoned. Elsewhere, there's a burned out house that's was abandoned, then taken over by bandits who are subsequently killed by frost trolls, who piled up the bandits in a corner. No one gets to keep a home forever in Skyrim.
My favorite so far is a small fishing expedition gone wrong. Here Bethesda provides the punch line, then lets us find the set up.
There are probably a couple hundred varations of people dying in Skyrim, from the brutally tragic (Frostflow Lighthouse) to the comic (the fish were indeed biting Advald.)
In semi-related news, smashing people in the face with a mace has not gotten old yet, at level 53. I'm not yet convinced it will ever get old.