Traveler, allow me to share a tale with you — a tale of peril and of a coward's retreat
Quick background: I'm on my second playthrough and now with mods. It's a bit of an uncommon (I think) set up, and it's relevant to the story.
- It's a no portal run
- Also no map, but with two key related mods
- I play with a compass mod for orientation
- I play with the no-map cartography table, which shows you the map when and only when you're standing at the cartography table. I play with a self-imposed one-table limit. Thus, I can see the map when I return to my original base, but all of my exploration and orienteering is done without a map
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Story: Having previously located the vegvisir for Moder (the next Forsaken to be vanquished on my quest) and having observed at the cartography table that Moder's was not exceedingly distant from my large secondary base, I contrived to scout Moder's island. Feeling confident in my gear and not thinking clearly, I set sail with minimal supplies beyond the food, potions, and weapons I carried on my person.
After landing on these new shores, I set a very minimal camp (a workbench, a covered bed, a fire, and no more) and headed to the mountains to explore.
Traveler, I'm sure you can guess what happened next. I died. My death was an unlucky but predictable combination of stone golem and fall damage high in the mountains and quite distant from my camp. Waking, I realized that I had precious little by way of supplies in my ship's hold and nothing stashed in my camp. I was naked and unarmed, and night was falling. A bear glared at me from the shadow of a nearby rock.
In a panic, I took to my boat, believing that I could return to my base and resupply. Blinded by haste as I was, I ignored the falling of night, and not far was I into the sea when night came full. A serpent arose from the depths to pursue me. Having no food and no weapons, and now disoriented and lacking a map, I sought refuge on the shores — any shores — of a new and unknown island. Landed and again in the black forest, I was savaged by bear and graydwarf alike. A shaman's poison took me, and there I died.
Again I awoke at my small encampment on Moder's island, now lacking a ship as well as weapons, armor, and food. Still the bear was present, and this time I did not escape his notice. Being bounded on the west by the sea on on the east by the mountains where my corpse — and all of my supplies — lay hidden, I fled to the north in search of more peaceful lands. Instead, I found there a swamp, whence enraged Draugr emerged to chop and harry. With only a few berries and a stone axe to my name, I retraced my steps south. Great tree-wielding trolls now hounded me as well. Seeking meadows now to the south, I instead was greeting by the buzzing of great mosquitos. The planes, I knew.
Where I had managed to evade the bear and the troll and the mossy undead, I could not escape the deathsquito.
Slain again and waking again at my meager encampment, I despaired. Forays into the mountains were damned. Attempts to construct something of a protective structure on these shores were thwarted by the harassment of hordes of all description. Lacking access to the meadows, a key ingredient of even the most rudimentary craft was beyond my reach. Escape by water was therefore impossible. The mountains froze. The planes buzzed and cackled. And the undead of the swamp forbade.
Feeling I had no option, I took the coward's way out. Surely you can see it, Traveler. The bed of these new climes, the only rest I had known on Moder's island, I destroyed. With no hope in my heart, I ventured one last time into the mountains, where I was unceremoniously consumed by wolves.
In his mercy, Odin returned me to my place of first wakefulness in the land of Valheim: the center of the sacrificial stones.
Traveler, I admit the shame of this retreat. Yet I saw no other option to escape Moder's island. What would you have done, granting arrival on Moder's island unprepared? In your estimation, would survival or escape through more honorable means been possible?