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Previous installments under the skyrim-conversations tag.
In this installment, we pose the all-important question, "What's with the accents?"
----
It's a quiet night in the main hall at Jorrvaskr.
"Hey, Farkas?"
"Yes?"
"You and Vilkas are twins, right?"
"Yes."
"And you were raised here in Jorrvaskr, right?"
"Yup, since we were kids."
"So, why does Vilkas have that goofy Nord Nordson of Nordheim accent, when your voice is relatively normal?" Actually, Farkas's voice isn't really what I'd call normal. As far as I've been able to determine in the course of my extensive travels, Farkas has the third sexiest voice in Skyrim, surpassed only by Brynjolf of Riften and, of course, Ulfric Stormcloak. And unlike Ulfric and Brynjolf, Farkas isn't a complete asshole. But that's neither here nor there, really.
"Oh, that. He just puts that on to impress women."
"Really?" I look over to the other end of the hall, where Vilkas is busy telling Aela and Ria a story involving forty orcs, an enchanted greatsword, and a tureen of apple-cabbage soup. Neither of them look particularly impressed, but then neither of them are your average woman. "Does it work?"
Farkas nods. "Yeah. I'm no good with accents, though, so I don't do it. Though, I could try it if you want."
"Noooo! I mean, no, that's okay. I like your voice very much just the way it is."
It's really hard to tell underneath the war paint and the stubble, but I am pretty sure that Farkas is blushing.
In this installment, we pose the all-important question, "What's with the accents?"
----
It's a quiet night in the main hall at Jorrvaskr.
"Hey, Farkas?"
"Yes?"
"You and Vilkas are twins, right?"
"Yes."
"And you were raised here in Jorrvaskr, right?"
"Yup, since we were kids."
"So, why does Vilkas have that goofy Nord Nordson of Nordheim accent, when your voice is relatively normal?" Actually, Farkas's voice isn't really what I'd call normal. As far as I've been able to determine in the course of my extensive travels, Farkas has the third sexiest voice in Skyrim, surpassed only by Brynjolf of Riften and, of course, Ulfric Stormcloak. And unlike Ulfric and Brynjolf, Farkas isn't a complete asshole. But that's neither here nor there, really.
"Oh, that. He just puts that on to impress women."
"Really?" I look over to the other end of the hall, where Vilkas is busy telling Aela and Ria a story involving forty orcs, an enchanted greatsword, and a tureen of apple-cabbage soup. Neither of them look particularly impressed, but then neither of them are your average woman. "Does it work?"
Farkas nods. "Yeah. I'm no good with accents, though, so I don't do it. Though, I could try it if you want."
"Noooo! I mean, no, that's okay. I like your voice very much just the way it is."
It's really hard to tell underneath the war paint and the stubble, but I am pretty sure that Farkas is blushing.
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