Will Syras's Oblivion Journal

71: The Bookstore

2009-01-10T13:45:00.001-08:00

I left the next day. There really was no point in tarrying in Leyawiin, after all. I just stopped in at the general store to buy some food and supplies. Gundalas, the pleasant bosmer owner of the store, seemed uneasy about something so I asked him about his troubles. Apparently, news had gotten out about a vampire den in the area, and people were still being attacked on their way into the city.

"I wouldn't be as worried as I am," he said, "but my friend is in the city guard, and he said that there was an attack WITHIN the city yesterday… and the guards still have no idea who is doing it or where they are coming from."

I remembered the checkpoints the guards had established when I first arrived in Leyawiin, evidently no one had stepped up to clear the city of its problem, and I had neither the time nor the inclination to help. "I wish I could help," I said, "but I just can't." Gundalas seemed understanding, but disappointed. I thanked him and departed for the city gates. On the way there, I had an idea. I stopped back in at Kael's house and woke Darkasha from his nap.

"Bah! I was having a terrific dream. What is it?" he hissed.

"If you get a chance, I want you to scout the area for vampires. Leyawiin has been having some trouble with them lately. Let me know if you find them, and how many there are." I said.

"No offense Will," he said, "but no. I have no reason to hunt my own kind."

"I'm not asking you to kill them, and you do have an incentive."

He looked at me quizzically.

"The guards are getting desperate to find these vampires, and they're going to start looking everywhere for them. They might even come looking for you. If we can solve this problem, you won't have to be as cautious as you are now. I'm not asking you to go out of your way, but if you come across them, let me know. Alright?"

"Fine, now go away." He said, rolling over and closing his eyes.

"I'll be in the imperial city for the next few days. Keep me posted." I said, and then departed.

When I reached the city, I made my way to the market district. There were a few things Gundalas hadn't been able to provide me with, and I was willing to bet the market district would have the items I was looking for. After buying the alchemical ingredients I needed, as well as a new pair of leather boots, I decided to stop in at the First Edition bookstore and see if I could find anything interesting to read. I spent a few minutes browsing the shelves, and was about to buy an interesting volume on Ayleid history when I noticed a familiar face. He had just entered the bookstore and looked a bit lost. I recognized him after a moment: It was Baurus, one of the emperor's guards on the night of his assassination. When he saw me he looked momentarily surprised, but then thankful. I was about to say something when he cut me short.

"I've been followed. You don't know me. Follow my tail, I might need some help." He said it quickly and quietly, and then immediately began browsing through the shelves of books. I followed suit, although I made sure to be away from Baurus. After a minute or two, an older man entered the bookstore as well and started browsing. He was obviously watching Baurus though, and I kept an eye on him. After a moment Baurus walked towards the back of the store and opened a door under the staircase. He went out of sight and the older man looked around discreetly. I watched him quickly move towards the basement door, and I followed almost immediately. As I stepped into the gloom of the basement, I felt a crackle of magic fill the air, and I saw the old man conjure a full suit of Mythic Dawn armor. He drew his mace and was about to strike Baurus when I electrocuted him with a lightning bolt. He twitched and then his armor dissolved into smoke and he collapsed. Baurus smiled at me.

"Thanks. As you can see, my investigation into the Mythic Dawn has not gone unnoticed. Help me search him, he might have something about me." We flipped the corpse over and patted it down. I found a thick book tucked into his robes.

"Look at this." I said. Holding it up to the light, I could barely make out the title. The gold leaf imprinted on the cover was flaking off, but it clearly said "Mythic Dawn Commentaries 1."

"Great!" Baurus exclaimed. "I've been looking for a copy of that! That's why I was coming to the bookstore in the first place. I'm lucky I found you here too."

At this point, the owner of the bookstore opened the basement door. Baurus stood and said "Official Blades business. Nothing to worry about sir, we'll have it cleaned up within the hour." The owner looked shocked, but nodded and closed the door quietly. Baurus then turned to me. "I'll clean up this mess. Listen, I need you to go talk to that guy. Phintias is his name. See if he knows anything about the other volumes of this book." He thumped the Commentaries. I nodded and walked up the stairs.

Phintias was upstairs wringing his hands and biting his lip. I spoke calmly. "We're sorry about any trouble we've caused you, but we'll see to it that you do not suffer from this." He nodded. "If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you some questions about this:" I brought the Commentaries into his field of vision.

His eyes locked onto it and he took it from me. He immediately began reciting publishing information and then said "A semi-rare book, and in reasonably good condition, what about it?"

"I need to know about the other volumes."

He nodded, "They're very rare, I have Volume Three here in the store… but I'm afraid it has already been claimed and paid for. The other two I haven't seen in years… but you might check at the arcane university."

"Who was the man who bought Volume three?" I asked.

"I'm afraid I've never met him. He wrote me several days ago and asked if I had a copy. When I told him I did, he immediately sent payment and asked that I reserve it for him. It's not uncommon for book collectors to do so. His name is Gwinas, and he should be here within the next few days to claim the copy. I wish I could help more, but I can't renege on my reservation." Phintias looked absolutely honest.

"I understand," I said. "Would you mind if I met with Gwinas, whenever he arrives?"

"I can try and get him to meet you, if you'd like. Um. Should I mention it's for the blades, sir?"

"No," I said. "Best if we kept that to ourselves."

70: Return to Cyrodiil

2008-11-12T19:53:00.000-08:00

Darkasha followed behind me as I walked out of the Council hall. He could tell we were finished in Sadrith Mora, and we made our way back to the Imperial Mages’ guild. The room was as busy as when we had arrived, and I looked around briefly. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but the Nerevarine had said he had arranged for our transport back to Cyrodiil. I began to move towards the guild guide. But then I noticed the man sitting slumped over on a bench in a corner. Or rather, I noticed his hair.

“Kael?” I said.

The blue hair was a give away, but I was still a bit surprised to see Kael here. He looked up, and then gave me a confused smile. I walked over to him and he rose to greet me. I couldn’t help but notice the shabbiness of his clothes and the wince as he reached to shake my hand. He had been through hell since we had seen him last, there was no doubt about that.

“What a surprise.” He said weakly. “I knew I was waiting here for something, but I wasn’t sure what.”

“Well, here we are.” I said, still taken aback from the surprise. “You wouldn’t happen to know how we’re getting back to Cyrodiil would you?”

He smiled, then winced again. “Yeah, I have the transport stone right here. But we can’t go yet. I need to recover.”

“Anything I can do to help?” I asked.

“Yeah, find out where that healer went. Ah, speak of the devil.” A mage in white robes approached carrying a potion. He handed it to Kael and he drank it down. There was a subtle cracking and popping as Kael’s bones were healed. Then he stood without a wince and thanked the healer.

“Right.” He said, pulling a few small, glowing gems from his pocket. “You know the drill.”

When we arrived in the shabby hut in Leyawiin I immediately fell into a chair. The weight of the last few days was finally lifted off of my shoulders. We were back in the relative peace of Cyrodiil, at last. I must have dozed off, because when I woke up Kael was placing a plate of hot food in my hands. I thanked him and gobbled it down gratefully. When I had finished, I waited for Kael to finish his own portion before engaging him in conversation.

“So what now?” I said.

He sighed. “Rest. I need to report back to my commander, but otherwise it’s going to be somewhat quiet around here for a while. Pity, really.”

“Why is it a pity?” I asked.

“What? Oh, a pity you won’t be able to enjoy it.” He shrugged, then handed me a letter he produced out of his pocket.

“Syras,
We appreciate the difference you have made in Vvardenfell. Without your help, the province would almost certainly have fallen to the Daedra. Which is why we’re giving you five days to report back to the Imperial City. A certain matter needs your expertise.
Jauffre.”

I sighed. “Damn it.”

69: The Council

2008-11-08T22:57:00.000-08:00

The master wizard was dead. His office was charred and I could feel the residual magic from his fight for survival, but his body was still crumpled in a corner. There was another body in the room, dressed in the same fashion as the other assassin. I wasn’t surprised that there were two assassins. One does not face the most powerful wizard in House Telvanni without backup. After a few minutes, guards came rushing up to the roof, I was there waiting for them. They nearly killed me, but I was quick to explain the situation. They seemed to accept my story, at least enough to stop them from frisking me. After a short sweep of the office, I was taken back down the tower and through the city to the council chambers.

The doors were shut and I could hear arguing in the main council chamber. I stood around for about fifteen minutes listening to the muffled arguments before their business was concluded, and the doors opened. Darkasha began to walk out of the room, but stopped when he saw me. I had time to flash him a nervous smile before being muscled into the council room by the guard accompanying me. The doors were shut again, but this time behind me. The guard wasted no time.

“My apologies High Council, but some rather disturbing news has just surfaced.” said the guard, “Master Neloth has…”

“Been killed?” replied a mage standing on one of the pedestals arranged about the room. “We know. News reached us approximately 20 minutes ago, shortly before that delightful creature came here petitioning for Lord Nerevar.” He flashed his hands across the air and magic swirled around him, each of the half a dozen or so “mouths” were acting similarly, their hands were always moving, casting spells and communicating with the actual councilors who couldn’t be bothered to come to the council building. The mouth represented the councilor almost year-round, and therefore held a lot of power.

“So why do you come here bringing us old news, captain?” asked another mouth across the room.

The guard was taken aback. “Well… This man was found at the scene. I’d like to know how to deal with him.”

“Release him,” stated a mage at the back of the room. His hands were curiously stagnant; his face more distressed than the others. He was Neloth’s mouth. “My master’s death was the result of a Dark Brotherhood assassination. I did warn him about the possibility of such an occurrence, but he was too busy for his own good…” He sighed. “In any case, this poor man you have brought to us has nothing to do with the assassination. In fact, it seems he brought justice to one of the assassins.” He flicked his hand and contemplated, “Yes, quite a ways for a burning corpse to fall, though I understand he was dead before impact.” His hands were still again. “So, if you have no further business, I suggest you leave us alone. Some of us have to reconsider our manner of employment…” The guard sheepishly bowed and backed towards the door.

I stepped up. “Excuse me sir,” I said. “but the Khajiit who was in here before, what did he ask of you?”

Neloth’s mouth was the only one who gave me more than a derisive glance, so he answered. “Some business with Nerevar,” he said. “Something about needing reinforcements or some nonsense. The creature is not welcome in this city, let alone these chambers.”

“So you denied his request?” I asked.

“Denied it?” laughed one of the mouths, “We didn’t even listen to it. We spent ten minutes ridiculing the animal before we grew tired of it.” The other mouths chuckled. Evidently the Telvanni still considered themselves superior to the Khajiit. I sighed.

“Then I would like to place a request of my own.” I said. “Send as many retainers as you can spare to Red Mountain. Nerevar waits at Dagoth Ur with the armies of the Redoran and what’s left of the Hlaalu.”

“Good lord, are you serious?” asked one of the mouths.

“Absolutely. I’m sure you know of the battles they have fought with the Daedra, and they need your help.”

“You do realize that the Daedra are attacking us too, right?”

“Yes, but you certainly don’t need all these people clogging up the streets. Send them to Dagoth Ur. Hell, send the people you want to get rid of. It doesn’t matter to me.”

The mouths stopped to think. After a moment the flurry of activity resumed. They all started calling out names and adding them to a list that appeared in the middle of the room. It grew longer and longer and then began curling in on itself to fit all the names of people the mouths were sending to Dagoth Ur. Neloth’s mouth twiddled his fingers and waited until the others finished. He looked around when the room was quiet.

“I will go myself.” He said. “I will lead this…” he looked at the glowing scroll that occupied a large space in the middle of the room, “…small army to Nerevar. There’s nothing left for me here, and it seems as though these people will need some direction if they hope to get there in one piece.” His fingers began to dance through the air like the rest of the mouths, and he looked at me, “Well, you got what you wanted. I’ve already begun to notify these people, and we will leave in a few days. Go on ahead and tell Nerevar we are coming.”

“Tell him yourself,” I said. “I’ve got better things to do.” I smirked and strode out of the council hall.

68: The Roof

2008-11-07T08:26:00.000-08:00

“Mushroom towers anywhere?” I said, unsure what to make of it.

“Yes! I only ever dreamed of this happening! It is truly a wondrous day!” said Telvanna ecstatically.

“But what do you want me to do with it?” I thought, looking to see that no one was around.

“Well we can’t leave it here, the Telvanni wouldn’t know what they’ve got. It more or less looks like any other spore, but there are subtle magical differences. They would just plant it somewhere and not realize its potential.”

“Yes, but I can’t exactly waltz around Sadrith Mora with it in my hands! The Telvanni may not know its potential, but they damn well know when they’re being stolen from!” I was trying to find an inconspicuous place to put the spore, for now. “And I’m quite certain they can detect the magical signature of their own spores.”

“Yes I suppose you’re right,” thought Telvanna, “but you can’t leave it here, any minute they could be around to check on the roots and then they would find it and it would be lost forever.” He thought to himself for a moment. “I could attempt to mask its energy signature. It wouldn’t be that hard, all I’d have to do is rearrange it a bit. But it will take a bit of concentration, especially since I can’t directly influence it from my staff. Go to your meeting with the Telvanni with the spore in your satchel. I will hide it from them as best as I can.” He thought, “But I may be unable to communicate with you while I am concentrating.”

“But I had been counting on your assistance with the Telvanni!” I pulled out a piece of cloth and wrapped it around the spore before burying it in my satchel. There was no response from Telvanna. I was on my own.

I climbed back out of the root system as discretely as I could, and managed to only get a funny look from a khajiit in pauper’s clothes. I flipped him a coin and he paid no further attention to me. I walked around the tower to its entrance. I walked past the guards and across a narrow bridge to the tower door. I looked down to see the root structure splayed out 30 feet below me. I shook my head to clear the sudden wave of vertigo and pushed open the door into the tower.

After making my way through the maze of tunnels I managed to find the central air shaft of the tower. I looked up and could barely see purple crystals glowing at the top of the tower, hundreds of feet above me. I gulped and then cast a levitation spell. It was a slow climb, but eventually I reached the top. I made a point of not looking back down and opened the door at the top of the shaft. It opened onto the roof and I was whipped by a sudden gust of bitter wind. I fought across the rooftop and into a small pod growing separately at the top.

Inside was eerily quiet. A secretary was apparently sleeping at her desk, and I quietly walked up to her and shook her shoulder. “Excuse me, I don’t have an appointment but I need to speak to your master…” She didn’t move, and I shook her cold shoulder limply. I worriedly lifted her head and immediately dropped it. The pool of blood she was laying in made a sticky noise as she fell back into it. The throwing star embedded in her neck was made of ebony. This was an assassination.
I looked all around me and casted a shield spell. I cautiously walked towards the door to the master’s office, spells flickering through my mind in preparation. The door was ajar, and I pushed it open with the staff.

A throwing star thudded into the wall beside me and I ducked instinctively. I cast a bolt of electricity at the dark form in the room and then immediately charged at it. The assassin was caught off guard by the lightning, but he was exceptionally trained and managed to deflect my attacks. I summoned a scamp and then resumed my assault, but the assassin was still able to block me. I stepped back as the scamp launched into the assassin, but it was dispatched quickly. The assassin and I circled each other, neither ready to make a move. I saw him reach for a throwing star and I cast a Light spell I had amplified with the staff. The flash of light blinded the assassin and I moved in to finish him. I blasted him with freezing cold magic and he fell on his back. As I brought the staff down on him, however, he rolled and was on his feet in an instant. He sprinted out of the office and I gave chase.

Were I as crippled as I had been just days ago, I would never have caught him. I ran after him, firing spells and curse words. He opened the door onto the roof and was momentarily sent off balance by the gale. I hit him in the back with a particularly effective spell and he was sent flying. I finally caught up to him just as he was getting to his feet. I fired a spell at the door leading to the tower and it burst into flames.

“There is no escape for you!” I yelled over the wind. The black-clad assassin retreated away from me, towards the edge of the roof. His face was masked, but something about him suggested a smirk. He began to raise his arms in surrender. Then he jumped.

He dove backwards off of the roof. I ran to the edge to watch him plummet. Not content to let the ground finish him for me, I fired one final spell after him. It struck him directly and he caught fire as he fell. The muffled screams could only barely be heard over the wind.

Update

2008-10-22T07:38:00.000-07:00

Hey guys,
So i haven't posted in a while. I probably should apologize for that, so here goes: I apologize for not updating. Now that that's out of the way, let me just say that i've hit a snag in my storyline and am having trouble resolving it. Add to that the fact that college doesn't leave me as much time for writing as before, so it's not looking good for Will here. Suffice it to say, i won't be posting within the next two weeks.

I'm not closing shop! Sheesh! I plan on coming back to this soon enough, but it's been difficult to get back into it. So give me a few more weeks to evaluate my story and then we'll go from there. Deal?

67: Sadrith Mora

2008-08-27T13:22:00.000-07:00

I awoke early the next morning, despite the long and exhausting night. I had slept deeply and no dreams came, though the memories of the previous night were still clawing their way through my mind. Darkasha’s actions were frightening and unexpected, and I wasn’t sure if I could ever forgive him. Nevertheless, I had a mission to complete, and Darkasha would be a valuable asset. I forced myself to swallow my fear and revulsion as I began my search for him.

It was misty out, but otherwise a beautiful morning. The world obviously didn’t care about the battle that had taken place here, and it was merrily going on its way. It was infinitely refreshing. My heart was lightened by the general happiness of the world around me. Birds were singing and the river splashed and gurgled at the edge of hearing. It was as if it knew that Oblivion had been held back for once, and was rejoicing in its salvation.

I was awakened from my admiration of the world by a quiet thud slightly behind me. I spun to see the dark form of Darkasha standing a few steps away. He was heavily covered and guarded against the sun. I scowled briefly at him.

“I…” He began, but he struggled for words. “I am sorry for what I did last night. It was not like me.”

I raised an eyebrow but remained silent. He continued.

“It was the blood. The smell was all around and it was… intoxicating.” He narrowed his eyes in thought. “Also, I think the Daedric blood may have affected me somehow… made me more aggressive. It is a powerful taste, Daedric Blood.” He frowned, searching for appropriate words to say. He wanted me to understand.

And I did. “It’s alright.” I said, with a sigh. “People do stupid things when they’re drunk. It sounds like it was a similar situation you were in. I forgive you.” I truly felt sorry for him. He had lost control of himself and was clearly very ashamed. He nodded his head in thanks.

“Besides,” I said. “We have more work to do. The Nerevarine wants us to go to Sadrith Mora and recruit some of the Telvanni retainers to help his cause.”
“Heh, we have a snowball’s chance in Oblivion with that one.” Said Darkasha jovially.
“I agree,” I smiled, “but we have to try.”

It wasn’t hard to travel to Sadrith Mora, though we had to wake up the guild guide to teleport us. He had been napping in the transport room, confident that no one was going to want to travel to Gnisis.

“Uh,” He said, dazedly. “No one’s really supposed to leave here until Lord Nerevar gives the okay…”

“Yes I’m aware.” I said. “He gave us orders to travel to Sadrith Mora.”

He looked at me sleepily and then nodded. I hoped he could send us there in one piece, as tired as he looked. I cast a spell of restore fatigue on him and he perked up enough to get us through it.

We arrived safely in the tiny Mage’s Guild in Wolverine hall. It was a single room in which were crowded many scholars casting spells and doing experiments. Darkasha and I left them in peace, and heading straight into the main area of Sadrith Mora.
“Well,” Thought Telvana. “It certainly has grown since I was last here.”

It was a big city. I had heard from the Gnisis Guild Guide that the place had nearly doubled in size since the downfall of Dagoth Ur. There were small houses everywhere and many larger Inns and buildings near the center of Town. It was actually very surreal because all the buildings were carved out of a giant mushroom. The Mage Lord’s mushroom tower dominated the skyline, and it was from this that all the other buildings had originated. So when Telvana said it had grown, I knew he meant it literally.

“We really should get a look at the tower while were here. I’m curious to see how well they’ve maintained it.” I nodded and turned to Darkasha.

“I will try and speak with their Mage Lord. Why don’t you see what you can find out about their council?” He nodded and walked off towards a tavern. I made my way towards the tower, disregarding the streets and just walking straight for it. I walked up an ashen slope to find myself on the top of a hill overlooking the base of the tower. The base was in a deep crater and roots spread out in all directions away from the tower. I cast a spell of slowfall and jumped off the top of the hill into the crater. It was a long fall and I landed softly among the thick roots.

Telvana’s mind was racing; drawing in all that he could about the condition and structure of the tower. Occasionally he would have me touch things or cast unusual spells on them, and then give me little more explanation than an “hmm” or an “interesting.” All the time I worried about being attacked by a guard for spying on their secrets, but the crater was devoid of anyone but me. I mostly zoned out and did what Telvana asked me to do. I knew it was above my head.

Sometime later, after we were about three-fourths done with combing the root structure, Telvana gasped and I stopped. He told me to start digging beneath my feet. I remarked I didn’t have a shovel and he said “Good! You would damage it if you did!” So I began digging with my hands. After a short while I made contact with a buried object that had a similar texture as the roots, but it was small and spherical, rather than long and tubular. I dug out around it and pulled it out of the ground. It detached with a gentle popping sound and I began to examine it.

“Could it be?” Telvana said, excitedly. I rolled the object around in my hands. It was about the size of a small melon and had a tough outer covering. On one side was a small stem surrounded by tiny purple crystals.

“It is! I cannot believe it!” Thought Telvana. “Of course, it will need to be verified, and who knows how well it will survive… but this is big news!”

“What is it?” I said, though I had an idea.

“What?” Thought Telvana, apparently I had broken his train of thought. “Oh! This is a mushroom spore. Of course the Telvanni have hundreds of these in storage, but this one is different I think. Maybe this whole Oblivion Crisis has changed it somehow, or maybe it was an evolutionary inevitability…” He paused to think it over. The staff blazed in hundreds of scintillating colors. “If I am correct, this spore should be able to grow in any climate. Even in Cyrodiil.”

66: Bloody Field

2008-08-12T21:13:00.000-07:00

“With all due respect,” I thought through to Nerevar, “How am I supposed to accomplish that? The Telvanni are famously stubborn and egotistical. They’re not going to leave their towers.”

“Traits they no doubt picked up from their illustrious namesake, eh?” the Nerevarine chuckled. “Perhaps I misguided you. All I am going to ask is that they send a few retainers to help with defense. Their Mages will greatly bolster our ranks. Nothing against the Mages’ guild, but the Telvanni have a greater focus on the practical uses of magic rather than the scholarly.”

“No offense taken.” I thought. “So what exactly are you planning?”

“Nothing complicated. Use the guild teleport from here in Gnisis to travel to Sadrith Mora. With any luck, the Telvanni council will be session there. Just get them to send a small force for the purposes of defense. We will not be assaulting Oblivion any time soon.”

“You will wait then?” Telvana thought, the staff glowing deeply in time with his words, “You will await your destruction rather than taking the battle to the enemy?”

“We will wait, yes. But I can only hope we can withstand the siege long enough for Will to finish his duty to the emperor. ‘Close shut the jaws of Oblivion?’ That is what he said isn’t it?” The Nerevarine’s eyes searched my face.

“Yes, he did say that, but… No, never mind. I’m sure you have your ways of knowing that.” I conceded.

“I’m glad you have learned that much at least.” Nerevar smiled triumphantly.

“So how do you propose he does that?” Thought Telvana impatiently.

“That is for him to discover. I do hope he knows what he’s doing, all of our lives are in his hands.” Nerevar’s tone was serious. “I will say that both of you will not find the answer here in Morrowind. In Sadrith Mora you will find a way to return to Cyrodiil. I have arranged that. I will see to the defenses of Red Mountain. Perhaps I will be able to assist you when I am confident in my people’s safety, but I cannot guarantee it.”

“What about Kael and Darkasha?” I thought. “I still have no idea what happened to Kael.”

“You will take the vampire with you when you depart for Sadrith Mora. See to it that he leaves my land. I will not destroy him, but I cannot stand his kind. As for Kael, I have confidence he will find his own way back.”

“I understand.” I said.

“It is good to know you are still… alive, Indel.” Nerevar’s voice echoed, “And you must accept that I am the reincarnation of Nerevar. Please.”

“Hmmph.” The staff buzzed resentfully. “I will entertain the possibility. But I won’t be happy about it.”

“I don’t care whether you’re happy or not. You have to accept it.” Nerevar said and then withdrew his mind from the connection. He handed the staff back to me and I felt Telvana return to my mind.

“N’wah.” Thought Telvana.

I took my leave of Nerevar and pushed through the crowd of commanders. They were still arguing, though they seemed to have lost some steam and had lowered their voices. Darkasha was my next priority, and I was glad to see he was helping clear the battlefield. In fact, he was the only one doing it. I approached to find him immersed in a grisly scene.

On this side of the city, the battle had been even more intense than on the side I had been at. Bodies of Daedra and Bonemold-clad Redorans were tangled together all across the field, and the whole place was beginning to reek even in the cool night air. Darkasha was wading through the place looting the corpses of both Daedra and Dunmer alike.

“Give the dead some respect.” I said, catching Darkasha’s attention. He didn’t even flinch.

“When you are as dead as these ones, you will know how little these fools care for their worldly trinkets.” He said, continuing his search. “Better someone closer to their state take care of these items than they fall into the hands of the living.”

“Leave them be!”

He snarled and turned on me. “Fool!” He pounced.

He knocked me backwards off my feet. “What do you know?” he said, pinning me to the muddy ground. It was not water that made the mud, but the blood of the fallen. I shivered in the cold slop. “Yes.” Darkasha hissed, “Do you feel that? It is the soup of the dead.” He reached out and took a handful of the bloody mud and raised it to his lips. “Mmm, delicious. It is a shame you have not experienced the taste of Daedric blood. Even watered down by the Redorans, it has a distinct flavor. A distinct effect.” I scowled at him. “You know nothing!” He spat in my face. “These dead care not! They’re dead! I will take what I please.

"Have you ever felt it? The embrace of death? No, of course not. Let me try to explain.” He bared his enormous teeth in my face. “It is a most unusual sensation.” He opened his fangs and then closed them, gently, on my neck. A shivering wave of revulsion exploded through my body. He began to laugh. His fangs scratched across the surface of my skin with every cruel laugh.

Finally, he released my neck. “Do you see now? All you thought about was death. So what do you think these corpses are thinking right now?” He stepped away to continue his pillaging.

My hands shot to my throat, feeling every inch of skin intently, searching for the slightest nick or puncture. Nothing. Not a single scratch. I sighed, relieved. I shivered once more and pulled myself into a crouched position. I conjured a handful of flames and warmed my hands and face briefly. Then I reached out and grasped the staff. Telvana rushed back into my mind.

“What happened? What’s going on? Why did he knock me out of your hands?” I opened my recent memory to him. “Oh.” He said.

I stood up and scraped some of the vile mud off of my robe. Another robe ruined. I chuckled grimly at the absurdity of it. I looked over to see Darkasha lift a limp Dremora into the air and then bite hungrily into its neck. It squealed and fell silent. I walked off towards the river to cleanse myself. Sadrith Mora could wait.

65: Reunion

2008-08-07T21:51:00.000-07:00

“Yes,” I responded. “What’s so special about me?”

Telvana laughed. “That will have to wait. There are some things that cannot be explained without altering the future. You will learn in time.”

“Gods damnit, you know that’s not acceptable to me!” I raged.

“Yes.”

I fumed, but I could see there was no getting through to him. I closed my mind to his and pulled on a clean robe. The bile had washed off nicely, but the stink would remain until I could clean the robe properly. I finished and went to check on Artan. He was sitting at the main dining table eating an apple, and he looked at me questioningly.

“Hi.” I said.

“He-llo…” he said, strangely, as if he was readjusting to using his own lips. “Who is the man in the staff?”

I sighed. This wasn’t entirely unexpected, but still unwelcome. “Don’t worry about him. How are you feeling?”

“Alright. My head feels weird.”

“It’ll pass. Why don’t you go lie down.” I gently ordered him and he nodded. I guided him to a bed and he collapsed gratefully onto it. I left him there and exited the guild building. The Nerevarine must be around somewhere, and I needed to find him.

I emerged from the building to a procession of exhausted, battered soldiers. Many were wounded, but most had a smile of triumph on their faces. We had won.
I began searching through the soldiers for any sign of the Nerevarine, casting healing spells on all that I passed. Some of the soldiers grunted their thanks, but my mana could only go so far, and I didn’t want to attract a line of people asking for assistance. There were healers in the temple for that. Finally I found him.
The Nerevarine was surrounded by fully-armored commanders who were arguing and yelling at him. He was silent, and he calmly walked towards me. I stopped to let the group pass, but the Nerevarine signaled me to follow him. Without missing a step I was swept up in the group, and it seemed the only people not yelling were the Nerevarine and me. The group bustled hurriedly towards the command post at the top of the hill. The Nerevarine burst into the room and sat down at the massive desk occupying the center of the room. The commanders stood around the desk, arguing with each other about their next move, each one strategizing loudly to the others, banging on the desk to accentuate their points. Nerevar calmly unbuckled his left gauntlet and stretched his neck. He removed the heavy glove and threw it onto the desk with a thump. He briefly scratched his ear and then, silently, he raised his finger. The room was silent instantly. Moon-and-Star glowed brilliantly, and everyone’s eyes flicked from the ring to Nerevar’s ashen face.

“That will do.” He said. Then he pointed at the door. The commanders began to move out of the room, slowly and obediently. Something compelled me to stay. The door clicked shut after the last soldier had left the room and the commanders’ arguments were resumed outside.

“I am glad to see you have been reunited.” The Nerevarine spoke quietly, unbuckling the rest of his armor. “It would be a shame to lose Master Telvana permanently. May I?” He asked, stretching his hand towards me.

“Do it.” Thought Telvana.

I reluctantly laid the staff in Nerevar’s hands. I felt Telvana’s mind part with mine, though only partially. There was still a mental link that allowed me to communicate with them, both of them. I managed to get a glimpse at Nerevar’s mind. It was intensely complicated, and I was shook by the horrors he had seen. Luckily, he managed to shield himself from my intruding thoughts, and all I could hear was his communication with Telvana.

“Hello again, old friend.” Nerevar’s thoughts echoed slightly as they passed into my mind.

“Silence child,” spat the Dark One, “You are not Nerevar. You may be his incarnate, but that does not make you HIM.”

“Not all of us have the luxury of immortality, Indel. And this body may not be Nerevar, but this MIND is! By Azura’s grace I have been reborn, and I AM Nerevar.” The fury between the two danced viciously around my mind, and I was glad to be just a spectator.

“Nerevar died! And not just any death, he was killed by the very scimitar you hold at your side! Hopesfire and Trueflame do not simply kill, they tear a being’s soul apart. You know this! These blades are the only things in existence that can kill gods! You were destroyed. There is no other possibility.” Telvana sounded exasperated.

The Nerevarine became quiet. Then, “You know many things, Indel Telvana, but the machinations of the gods will forever escape your understanding. Do not let yourself be blinded by your own pride. By Azura’s Grace, I live. There is nothing else to say.” He paused for a moment. Telvana was silent. “Now, we have much work to do. The Daedra will be back, and Gnisis will no longer hold against them. We must evacuate to Red Mountain. In two days time, our forces will depart. Whats left of House Hlaalu are already there, soon the Redoran will join them. There we will stand against the tide of Daedra.” His thoughts shifted and were directed towards me, their echoed quality disappeared. “You however, will attempt something that has not been successfully done in ten years. Travel to Sadrith Mora, bring the Telvanni to Red Mountain, and reunite the Houses once again.” He said, smiling. His thoughts shifted and echoed again. “You’re going home again, Indel.”

64: "Any More Questions?"

2008-08-04T12:11:00.001-07:00

“I’m glad you asked.” The Dark One’s voice rang through my head with full clarity, and it was almost comforting to have him back. “Suffice it to say, I lost control for a moment there. Things are much better now, thank you.” His voice was now irritatingly calm, and it took all the willpower I had to not explode with fury.
“Ok,” I said, grinding my teeth. I calmed down and just thought instead of speaking. “Ok. You’re going to explain now. Explain everything. Start at the beginning and go from there. I have time.” I pushed Artan’s shivering body off of me and walked into a room full of beds. I undid my satchel and dug around for a clean robe and some soap. A basin full of water would have to suffice for cleaning me off. “You may begin at anytime,” I said. “I’m waiting.”

The Dark One’s mind let out a sigh. “Very well,” he thought. “Perhaps I should begin with my birth.”

“I was born much earlier than you might have guessed. The first era of Tamriel, year 12. Oh yes, I am that old. My mother was Chimer, as was my father, though I never saw much of him. They were hard times. He was often out hunting Nix hounds or wild guar. We lived on the eastern coast of the main continent of Morrowind, near where Salen Vulgate is today. My parents were gifted sorcerers, especially for the time, and they taught me well. By the time I was 10 I had surpassed my mother and was nearly equal to my father in the mystic arts. He took me hunting often, and we ate quite well. Still, it just wasn’t enough for me. My skills reached a plateau as soon as my parents had taught me everything they knew, but I sought more. I left them when I was 15, with their blessing, and made my way to Vvardenfell. I spent a great deal of time there on my own, learning and increasing my skills. I lived in a cave most of the time, but I was able to get what I needed for my experiments from the surrounding countryside. I was more than a match for anything out there, and by the time I was 150 I had attracted a great deal of attention from mages across Morrowind. I took on several students as assistants, and I made great advances in magic. Mysticism is almost entirely my creation, and those magnificent towers the Telvanni live in are fruits of my labor. I grew my own tower, you see, and brought in many more students and retainers. Soon my first students were teaching a whole new generation of students, and my tower had grown hundreds of feet in the air. I took on many servants and housed them in my tower, but eventually I had to train the tower to grow out and create houses for students who wanted more privacy. The Dwemer weren’t too happy about my presence there, however, and I’m sorry to say that I may have had something to do with their breaking from the pact with Lord Nerevar. You see, Nerevar had come to me many times for advice as he struggled to unify the Chimer and the Dwemer, and I helped him as much as I could. He was a good kid, and I knew he would do great things. That bastard Kagrenac had to go and ruin everything.

“You see, I was not picky about who I taught. Chimer and Dwemer lived and studied together peacefully in my tower. In fact, it was there that Nerevar got the idea that unification could work. Anyway, Kagrenac was one of my students. He was good at what he did, though his specialty was in engineering, as all Dwemer. I took little interest in those studying in my tower by the time he came through, I was too busy in my own experiments and I let the other teachers take care of the students. But when I heard about Kagrenac’s tools, many years later, I was shocked. It was profane what he had created, and I advised Nerevar to demand they be destroyed. Of course, this helped widen the break between Lord Nerevar and the Dwemer King Dumac. The war was long and bloody, and I contributed my powers to Nerevar. I was there on Red Mountain when the whole thing went to hell. Kagrenac used the tools. How, I cannot say, but the Dwemer just started disappearing. Not all at once, but it didn’t take long. Most of them disappeared with little more than a flash, but some exploded quite violently. In any case, the battle was over, and we weren’t sure whether we had won or lost.

“Nerevar found the tools and brought them before his four greatest advisors. His wife, Almalexia, and the others. Vivec, Sotha Sil, and Dagoth Ur. They wanted to use the tools, but Nerevar wouldn’t hear of it. He was going to bring them to me to be destroyed. They betrayed him. The fetchers killed him in cold blood and took the tools for themselves. Naturally I tried to stop them, but by the time I had heard of it, they were already declaring themselves living gods. I fought them, but how could I fight gods, even as powerful as I was? It is their fault we Dunmer are as dark as we are. Azura’s curse destroyed the Chimer, and the Dunmer were born. The Tribunal was further betrayed by Dagoth Ur, but I was gone by then. I had given up on Vvardenfell and Morrowind. I abandoned my tower to my students and escaped before the Tribunal could hunt me down. My students were faithful though, and they carried on my teachings for millennia to come. They even named themselves after me. Indel Telvana is my name, and I am the father of House Telvanni. Of course it wasn’t easy to leave them behind, but I had to, for my own safety. The Tribunal never found me, but then they didn’t need to. They cursed me from afar, making my skin even blacker than before while reversing Azura’s curse on themselves. Since then I have wandered Nirn, looking for ways to increase my power even as it is sapped by old age. I found ways to restore myself, of course, and I’m happy to say I defeated death, though not without cost. My existence on this plane is very fragile, even moreso since my encounter with you.

“You were quite a specimen, you know that? In all my years of studying I have never met another like you. That is why I trapped you in that pocket dimension, though you made short work of escaping from that. You see, I have kept myself on this world by taking others off of it. Not by killing them, of course, but by sapping them of their energies. I learned quickly that if I did this on the mortal plane they would die very quickly, but if I removed them from Nirn entirely and took their energies, they could live quite a long time themselves. I collected many interesting and unique specimens over the millennia, and they were all quite safe before you came along. Now they are undoubtedly very scared, trapped in a dark void beyond my reach. I don’t plan on leaving them there, you know. I will get them back. In any case, you ruined everything. Now I cling to Nirn by the thinnest of threads, and the slightest bump from the Aetherius plane can quite make a mess out of things. Which brings me to what happened today.

“That little outburst you had out there was quite fortuitous, really. Saved your life and all that. But it really messed me up, as I’m sure you noticed. The force of the magic from that explosion blew me out of your body entirely. Out of the Staff even. I was knocked around like a butterfly in a hurricane, bouncing from body to body (most of which were dead Dremora, I’d just like to mention), until I found myself in the only living thing nearby. Initially I thought it was you, but to be honest there was too much space in that man’s head. He hasn’t seen a quarter of what you’ve seen in your life, and he was missing the distinguishing characteristic that made you so interesting to me in the first place. Still, I was stuck there, and I knew it wouldn’t hold me for long. It was roomier than your head, but not really built for two. So I spent a great deal of time trying to figure out how to get back to your head. In the meantime, you were out wrestling with my staff, which was desperately trying to find me. You see, all the time I’ve spent in this piece of metal has left sort of an imprint on it. It’s not sentient or even particularly intelligent, but it does have a mind of sorts. My mind. So when I suddenly disappeared it got rather upset and started looking for me. Like a stressed dog, it started shedding, but instead of shedding fur it was expelling particles of magic-hungry metal. That’s why it was so keen on the Nerevarine. He’s practically made of magic, and so it affected him rather strongly. You escaped from the worst of it because the staff was used to you. At least, that’s the best description I can come up with. I’m not quite sure what went on when you grabbed the staff, but it could have been trying to bring your mind into itself as a replacement for me. You seem to have reprimanded it well enough for it to stop shedding and pull itself together, quite literally. I was still stuck in Artan until I could propel myself onto you, and then I was quite surprised to find you weren’t carrying the staff. As I have said, your mind isn’t roomy enough for the both of us, and the staff carries most of my mentality. I’m glad you got your hands on it in time or you might have permanently damaged your brain. And now here we are.”

He seemed to breathe in for the first time during the story. Obviously he didn’t need to breathe, but it was a pause that had an air of relief. “Any more questions?”

63: Bile

2008-07-16T22:19:00.000-07:00

I helped Artan into the city, but he still was looking very confused and unfocused. I pulled him toward the Mage guild and directed him to a room where I could keep an eye on him. I sat down in a corner and laid the staff across my lap. The dark one was in there, but he wasn’t responding to me. I sat and concentrated on breaking the barrier between us. The staff was dark, and I couldn’t get through to him

After a while I cast the staff away in frustration. It clattered across the floor and lay utterly still; not the slightest glow or flicker. Nothing. I paced uneasily for a time in the eerily quiet guild. All the mages were out fighting the Daedra or helping the wounded, leaving the guild hall empty except for Artan and me. I set about trying to clear the fog from Artan’s mind. He was staring quizzically at a potted plant and would occasionally cast a spell on it. I approached him slowly and tried to catch his attention. The plant was evidently more interesting than I was.

I took a step forward to more forcibly take his attention, but a sharp pain stabbed through my foot and up my leg. I stumbled and grabbed my knee: the pain dulled but was persistent. I noticed Artan turn towards me and I looked up at him. His face was contorted into a strange grimace, and I almost laughed before he jumped into me, knocking me down.

He crouched on top of me, pinning me to the ground. The wind was knocked out of me, or I would have yelled. I began to push him off me, but the pain in my leg grew and expanded throughout the rest of my body. I couldn’t scream in pain or alarm, and Artan was just pinning me to the ground. His mouth opened and he spewed vile goo all over me.

Interestingly, a strange calm spread through my mind as the pain increased and the bile spread across my face and neck. It was familiar and welcome, and I was happy to feel the Dark One’s presence back in my mind. However, I noticed his mind was worried, so I became worried as well.

His thoughts to me were broken and incoherent, “No room… hurry… can’t hold… energy…STAFF!”

I got the last bit and feebly groped around on the ground nearby for the staff. I knew it lay somewhere nearby, but I was blinded by the vomit stinging my eyes. The pain was steadily increasing and there was a curious buzzing in the back of my head, like a swarm of angry bees.

Mercifully, my hand closed around the cool metal of the staff and I pulled it toward me. I felt the pressure of the Dark One’s mind spill into the excess room of the staff, and the pain in my leg began to subside. My heart thumped in my ears, and it slowly dawned on me just how much pain I had been enduring. Like a mudcrab in slowly-heated water, I hadn’t noticed just how painful it had become.

I lay gasping for breath, covered in stinky bile, and clutching the staff like a child holding a blanket. Slowly I rolled onto my side and wiped the stinging vomit from my eyes. I lay there for several moments before I turned to look for Artan. He was lying motionless nearby, though I was relieved to see he was breathing peacefully. I got to my feet painfully, and I stretched my leg before putting weight on it. The Staff was glowing in rhythmical, geometric patterns, almost like the Dark One was checking to see that everything still worked. I cautiously probed his mind to get his attention. He politely waited for my question. I asked him.

“What the hell just happened?”

62: Shadow Mind

2008-06-19T21:30:00.001-07:00

The world was stolen from me nearly instantaneously. I was plunged into a shadowy, empty void. I still held the staff here, but it was empty; lifeless. I illuminated the area with a spell, but it only strengthened the harshness of the shadows that swam around me. A familiar voice echoed around me suddenly.

“I thought it was ready,” said the voice. “I thought it was time.”

I lifted my feet and moved forward in the void, though my movements were strange and uncoordinated. I seemed to be swimming, but on dry land. The voice returned after a moment’s silence.

“Was I too hasty?” it said.

I felt I was closing in on the source of the voice, though it was hard to tell from the echoing all around me. I lurched onward.

“How could this happen? Could it be that I will never be restored?” It was chilling how familiar the voice was, though I had no inkling as to where I had heard it before.

I tried to call out to whatever was producing the voice, but I could not force out any noise. Not even my breathing was audible, though I was growing weary from the awkward lurching I was doing.

“Am I to remain this way?”

I slowly found myself gaining on a form bundled up on what might be called the ground. It was dark and featureless, though I could see it shifting and undulating slowly. The voice spoke again, and I was certain it was coming from the shape on the ground.

“Is this to be my prison forever?!” the voice suddenly grew frantic, demanding an answer of me.

The form curled up below me slowly began to unfold. It was bizarre. I seemed to be able to see it from all angles and yet each one had its own dimensions. It unfolded into an impossible number of arms and legs, rising rapidly above me as it grew. It was like a spider with an infinite number of legs, and suddenly it looked at me.

“ANSWER ME!!” The voice screamed. The creature towered above me and rattled with the earthquake instilled by the voice. It reared up and smashed down around me, crushing where I was and where I could have been.

Yet somehow I was unscathed. Even as the limbs continued to descend and crush the life out of me, I stood watching as it clearly missed me again and again. I stood at a distance, curiously alarmed but uninvolved, like a man watching a rodent ripped to shreds by a hawk. Finally, I decided some action was necessary, and I crushed down on the creature with the lifeless staff. For some reason I was towering above it, it was now no bigger than a spider.

But it was also as big as a silt strider, crushing legs dancing around me as I struck out with the staff. Each blow I scored destroyed a limb or part of the creature, and each blow also brought back some life into the staff. It began to glow faintly as I beat back the creature, and as the number of limbs slowly decreased, it grew brighter and brighter. Finally, I was standing above a quivering black blob. Robbed of its limbs, it was decidedly less frightening. I spun the blindingly white staff and brought it down upon the blob.

“Am I better off this way?” The voice said as I was pulled back into reality.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I stood atop the gateway arch, gripping the faintly glowing staff in my hand. The fog had receded into the staff, and I saw that Artan and the Nerevarine were dusting themselves off, though they still looked markedly confused. I was also pleased to see that the massive oblivion gate was dormant, its stone pillars were as black as obsidian and the portal was closed. I cast a spell of slowfall and jumped down to the Nerevarine.

“Nerevar!” I called as I descended, “I have the Staff, now what would you have me do?”

“What?” he said dazedly. “Oh! Of course!” He strode off towards the oblivion gate and drew both of his scimitars. I ran after him after I landed.

I caught up with him just as he reached the base of the oblivion gate. “Aha!” he said, “It’s as I suspected. Whatever your friend did is interfering with the gates, but it hasn’t closed them. We need to destroy the pillars before the gates reopen.”

“But that would take the strength of a silt strider to bring down!” I looked behind me sadly at the fallen carcass of the silt strider, entangled in the broken metal of the Daedric Spider. The Nerevarine yelled and then struck the two pillars with his scimitars. Nothing happened.

But then, magic began crackling up the stone from where the blades had made contact, and soon the whole gate was crumbling down around us. I moved back to a safe distance. I stood mouth agape as the Nerevarine sheathed his blades and turned to me. “Get Artan inside and wait for my instructions. I must deal with the other gates now, before they return to full functionality.” With that he sprinted off towards the other battle sites.

61: Grotesque

2008-06-09T21:09:00.000-07:00

I achingly rolled onto my back and stared at the night sky. It was choked with smoke and the smell of death, and I coughed and held my sides. Blood was trickling out of several open wounds I had received from the blast, but they were nothing critical. The air was eerily quiet. What’s more, there was something greasy and unusual about it. I looked around stiffly, and saw that I was surrounded by the corpses of dozens of Daedra and Redoran soldiers. I pulled myself to my knees and looked around for the staff. It was nowhere to be found. I even looked under several bodies, but it was gone. I tried to cast a spell to light my way as I searched, but it would not cast for some reason. Whatever it was that was in the air, it was keeping me from casting spells.

I heard weak coughing nearby, and I managed to stand and navigate through the smoky, greasy air to the form making the noise. Artan, the mage who I had been speaking to shortly before the battle, was getting to his feet nearby. I stumbled over and helped him up.

“What the hell was that?” He managed to say between coughs. “You… Exploded!”

“It’s a long story. Have you seen my staff?” I was still searching desperately for it. Perhaps it had been blown from my grasp by the explosion.

“Why can’t I cast spells?” Artan asked, still slightly dazed. “It’s like there’s something in the air.” He felt it too, so I knew something had happened to stop all of our spells. As I searched through the corpses littering the ground, I noticed a blackish fog hovering limply very close to the ground. It seemed to be everywhere, though just a few inches from the ground. I continued to search for my staff, and Artan began to check if any of the soldiers might still be alive. I soon found myself standing by the gates to the city. They were blackened and had holes in several places, apparently from the energy of the blast. I pushed on one weakly and felt it give. I walked a few steps before a shape plummeted to the ground in front of me and stood slowly. I was relieved to see the Nerevarine’s twin scimitars burning brightly before me. “What happened?” He asked urgently.

“It’s very difficult to explain…” I began, but I was cut off by the Nerevarine.

“Where is your friend?” he asked.

“Artan is just outside the gates.” I said, slightly confused.

“No, not him. The staff! Where is the Staff? It is critical we find him!”

I was taken aback. How did the Nerevarine know about the Dark One? I was certain I had never mentioned him to anyone, and I knew the staff’s glowing colors were not visible to anyone but myself. “How do you know…” I began again.

“It’s very difficult to explain,” said the Nerevarine. “There isn’t time now. The battle is quiet here, but elsewhere it still rages. Now, where is the Staff?”

I was about to say something when I noticed the black fog creeping up around my ankles. Once again I felt the greasiness in the air and I knew I would not be able to cast any spells. The Nerevarine noticed the fog as well, and knelt down to examine it. I was shocked to see the flames that engulfed his swords sputter and being to die as they came close to the fog. Clearly, so was the Nerevarine, because he backed away suddenly. He shook his head slightly, then extinguished and sheathed his swords with a flick of his fingers. He motioned for me to follow him and he ran back out through the gates.

The fog was thickening as each second passed. Already, Artan was knee deep in the stuff, and he looked very confused, as if he had lost his way. He was staring into space, and I knew that the fog must be toxic somehow. The Nerevarine began to wade into the stuff, and I watched in horror as his shimmering armor was coated in a film of oily fog, which condensed into liquid droplets on the powerful plate mail. Whatever was doing this, it was deeply attracted to power and magic. The Nerevarine’s pace slowed until he stopped, and his face took on a glazed expression similar to that of Artan’s. The fog was nearly waist deep, and I was beginning to feel slightly stupefied. I shook my head to clear it, and then backed out of the fog towards the gates. I noticed that both Artan and the Nervarine’s dull gazes were focused on a point high above me. I turned and ran to the pathway that took me to the top of the natural archway above the gates.

As I reached the top, I looked around for… what exactly, I didn’t know. I squinted into the darkness around me and could just barely make out a form a short distance away. I only saw it because it was glowing dimly and rings of deep red light pulsed down its surface. It was the Staff, hanging firmly in the air a few feet off the ground. Each pulse of horrifying red light released a puff of the oily fog, which flowed down into the battleground where Artan and the Nerevarine were standing stupidly. I walked up closer to the staff.

It had changed drastically. Where it was once smooth black metal, it was now scarred and gnarled. The dim light it emitted was refracted and twisted by the scars into a sickening display, and I stood transfixed with horror. Yet, I knew I had to do something to stop whatever was happening. I did all that I could do.

I reached out and grabbed the twisted thing.

60: The Storm

2008-06-01T21:27:00.001-07:00

I spent the next week doing as the Nerevarine wished. I had the most experience with the Daedra of anyone in the city, so my duties mostly consisted of telling soldiers and mages of my experiences and how I felt the Daedra could be best combated. Other than that, I would tend to the minor aches and pains that some soldiers would sustain from constructing defenses. I was very impressed with the amount of work that had been done over the course of the week. The massive, natural stone archway that acted as an entrance to the city had been closed off with massive wooden gates, and much of the river that passed through the center of the city had been reinforced. Three silt striders patrolled the exterior of the city walls, and a fourth was stationed within the city itself. Overall, I felt the city was as well defended as it possibly could be, but I wasn’t sure what to expect. I had never been within a city during the course of a siege, so I kept my mind alert and trained each day for the coming battle.

Still, there was no sign of the Daedra. Scouts had seen several small gates opening in the nearby country, but the few Daedra that came out showed no signs of assaulting the city. Tension mounted steadily, and many began to grumble about the incessant waiting. The little relief I had from the tension came in the form of Darkasha’s reports. He would return every few days with tales of the nord camp and how they still didn’t know about his existence. He had been wreaking havoc in their ranks by biting and infecting several of their soldiers in the night. The nords were in no danger of becoming vampires, as they would be treated in the morning, but it still caused panic and suspicion in the invading force. Darkasha also saw to it that their plans and dispatches were either misplaced or stolen, and kept the Nerevarine apprised of the nord movements. The Nerevarine was confident that the threat of being attacked by the nords was neutralized, though he kept Darakasha in the field.

I found myself restless, however, we had had no further contact with Ald’Ruhn and Kael was still missing. To relax, I would often take walks on the walls that had been constructed, or on top of the rock archway. I would often chat with the archers or mages stationed there, just to pass the time. Often I would end up answering questions about the Daedra, which began to become tiresome, but I answered in good faith.

“Honestly, I don’t know what to expect.” I said on the last day of the week. “The Daedra have many tricks that no one knows about, like those metal constructs I’ve told you about.” The man I was talking to was a fellow mage, Artan, and we were standing on top of the stone arch way looking out over the field beyond.

“I hope they don’t have too many more tricks.” He said, squinting his eyes into the sun as it faded in the west. “Those monstrosities sound bad enough as it is.” He breathed in the salty breeze coming inland off the sea, “it is a glorious night, is it not, my friend?” I gazed out over the landscape, catching a red glimpse in the corner of my eye.

“It’s about to get a lot worse.” I said. “Look over there!” I pointed out across the fields, where a cluster of oblivion gates had begun to open. There was no doubt about it this time. The gates had begun to open, and the Daedra were marching through. The battle was about to begin.

I burst into action, lighting the nearby signal fire and launching a magical flare into the sky to warn the soldiers. As I did so, I noticed that the other sides of the city were lighting their own flares and signal fires. We were being surrounded by Daedra. The soldiers down in the city were beginning to armor up and psych themselves up for battle. I wondered if the Nerevarine had heard yet that the Daedra were approaching.

He had, and he burst from the command post in full battle armor, wielding the fiery twin blades Hopesfire and Trueflame. He was clad in a suit of armor I had never seen before, but it glowed with magic in the dim light of the dying sun. It was truly a sight to behold, and many of the soldiers gasped as he passed them. He leaped to the top of a wagon that stood in the street and began to speak. The soldiers turned and listened to him, drinking in every explosive word. I was disappointed that I was too far away to hear him, though I could feel the energy that he was granting to the troops. His speech crescendoed just as a great Oblivion gate ground its way out of the earth just a few hundred feet away from the archway where I stood. It reached its peak just about equal with the top of the arch I was standing on, and Artan gasped.

“May the nine help us all…” The guards below us at the base of the gates braced themselves as a swarm of Daedra poured out of the oblivion gate towards them. The archers around us on the arch began firing, but the Daedra were well out of my range. Instead, I turned to watch the soldiers within the city running to their respective posts around the walls. The Nerevarine sprinted faster than any of them to the gates on the other side of the city from me. I turned back to the battle and began launching spells at the horde down below. The troops below clashed with the Daedra. It was mostly scamps and clannfear, an advance force that the soldiers could handle, but I was worried about their numbers. The advance force was huge, and the dremora and Xivilai that would follow would be of a comparable size. I wondered if we could hold against the tide.

Just then a huge, tree-trunk of a leg landed nearby me, and then several more followed. The strider from inside the city was climbing the wall to reach the battle. It towered above me, and I cheered as it crashed down onto the unsuspecting Daedra below. Its anger inhibitor removed, it tore through the ranks of Daedra, kicking them high into the air and smashing them with its massive legs. I had personally instructed the striders’ captains to destroy the gates first and then mop up the remaining Daedra, and I could see that this captain was doing just that. It kicked through the Daedra on the ground and made its way towards the gate, preparing to bring its massive claws down on the huge stone pillars. However, I saw one of the metal constructs emerge from the fiery portal and crash into the strider, spewing fire up the side of the creature’s skin. It squealed in pain and nearly lost its balance, but brought its claws down onto the side of the machine. The two giants locked in battle, and I could only hope for the strider’s success. I cast a spell of slow fall and jumped down to aid the troops guarding the gate, which had been reinforced by troops from the interior. I threw blasts of frost and lightning down on the swarming horde of Dremora and Clannfear (most of the scamps had been taken out by this time) as I fell, and I landed safely near the gates. I did what I could to aid the wounded and extract them from battle, but most of the soldiers were in dire shape, and it was all I could do to keep them alive.

“Let me help,” said the Dark One. “You are not enough to do this alone.” His presence was like a pressure in the back of my mind, waiting to explode. “Let me help!” I complied, letting the Dark One directly guide many of my actions. I took the chance to rest my mind, receding slightly from the combat which seemed to be dragging on for hours. After a few minutes, I felt surprisingly refreshed, and I retook much of the control of my body. The strider and Daedric construct wrestled on, rolling over many of the Daedric reinforcements that charged through the oblivion gates.

“Will,” the Dark One said again, “We have a problem.” His voice was grave and somewhat panicked. I immediately began to panic as well, though I waited hesitantly for his explanation. “It’s the wound in your foot. It’s built up too much energy. We need to release it now!” I wasn’t sure what to do. The energy leaking from my wound had been under control for so long now that I had forgotten about it. “Will, I can’t focus it! It’s going to explode from you!” My skin was beginning to feel strangely prickly, and I could see a faint glow around my hands. “I’m going to try and release it as controlled as possible, but it will explode to an extent! Get away from the Redoran soldiers!” I pushed through the line of soldiers and into the swarm of Daedra. They began clawing at me, but I was wearing some light armor and I pushed through into the center of them just as the staff began burning and spewing pure magical energy. It coalesced in strange and beautiful patterns as it ripped through the nearby Daedra. It began steaming off of my skin in little wisps of smoke, and my hands began flaming with magic. It didn’t hurt, though it was increasingly warm, and suddenly I felt like I had been punched in the side. I looked down and saw a stream of energy bursting from a bloody whole in my side. The strange thing was, the magic began healing my wound even as it created it. I felt the final wave of energy rippling up through my skin, and I collapsed just before it burst out and ripped through everything around me.

59: The Calm Before the Storm

2008-04-30T17:15:00.000-07:00

I stepped out of the mages guild with heavy thoughts on my mind. Surely Ald’Ruhn could not have fallen so quickly! It must have just been a fluctuation in the teleport fields or something. I let the Dark One ponder this and I sullenly followed the Nerevarine through the city. I was surprised to see the amount of activity that there was. Soldiers clad in the characteristic bonemold armor of the Redoran strode purposefully throughout the city carrying documents and implements of battle. The air was clear of ash and foul weather, but the tension was palpable. I followed Darkasha and the Nerevarine up a short incline to a building set into a hill.

We entered the building and were greeted with reverent silence. The Nerevarine proceeded to sit in a chair offered him by a Dunmer in glass armor. “Thank you, general,” the Nerevarine’s voice was firm but polite, “Everyone, please continue your duties, there is much to be done yet if we are to win this battle.” After an instant of stillness, the soldiers returned to whatever it was they were doing. I stood aside quietly as the Nerevarine shared a few words with the grizzled general. Finally he turned to Darkasha and me. “I will get straight to it,” he said simply, though his lips still did not move behind the thick coat of ash that covered his face. “We are in a difficult position here. Our walls and natural defenses are relatively strong, but the Daedra are not easily impeded by our efforts. Thank Azura that the Redoran forces were already concentrated here due to the Nord invasion. Still, I fear we will be outnumbered and overpowered. Who knows what the Daedra could throw at us.”

“I might.” I interjected. The Nerevarine’s eyebrows rose and his ashen mouth curled into a smirk. I continued, “I’ve engaged the Daedra multiple times, maybe I can tell you something you don’t know. Darkasha might be able to fill in any gaps in my memory, as well.” The Nerevarine gestured for me to procede. I did. “The Daedra apparently prefer to open two kinds of gates to bring their forces through. The smaller of the gates is very tall, but only wide enough to let maybe two to four men through, shoulder to shoulder. Scamps, Dremora, Xivilai and the like come through these usually. The other gates are about the same height, but are about twice as wide. They always open the small gates before the big ones, I guess to let the advance force soften things up for the main attack. The big gates let in all the beasts that the small gates do, but they also…” I hesitated, trying to picture and find words for the monstrosity that had lurched through the big gate at Ghostgate. “They also let worse things through.”

“What kind of worse things?” The Nerevarine had been listening intently, clearly eager to learn as much as he could.

“Big things,” Darkasha said, “Big, metal, spider-like things.”

The Nerevarine pondered this, “Like Dwemer constructions?”

“Not exactly,” I said, “Much, much bigger and nastier looking. A little shorter than a silt strider, and just as strong as one. Also, they can spew fire from their… heads.” Darkasha nodded in concurrence. “I don’t think any number of soldiers could take one of those things out without siege engines.”

The Nerevarine shook his head sadly and said: “Something which we do not have, unfortunately… So there is nothing we can do against them?” Darkasha smiled faintly, and I couldn’t help but follow suit.

“No, there are some ways of stopping them.” I said, “Number one, and I’m not sure this would work, but there is a sigil stone at the head of the creature, and I believe it is what powers the construct. If that stone could be removed it might render the whole monster useless. The other option, which I know works, is to fight them with silt striders.”

The Nerevarine nearly burst out laughing, “Are you kidding me? Those things couldn’t hurt a scrib!”

Darkasha shook his head, “No, really. If the anger inhibitor is removed from a strider, it could take out one of those things pretty quickly, not to mention dozens of smaller Daedra.”

The Nerevarine looked at us both very carefully, as if trying to discern the truth of the matter. Finally, after a short moment of consideration, the Nerevarine sighed and conceded. “Very well, I’ll see to it that silt striders are gathered and their handlers informed of their role. In the meantime, I have plans for you both. Will, You will stay here and help me prepare defenses for the coming assault, as well as continue informing me of as much as you know about Daedric tactics.”

“As you wish.” I said, I really didn’t know what else I would do.

He continued, “Darkasha, you have a task much more suited to your… condition?” Darkasha seemed a bit startled, and discreetly liked the sharp points of his vampiric fangs. The Nerevarine nodded, “Yes, that. As you may or may not be aware, the Nord invasion force has established itself at a nearby camp. We cannot afford this threat at a time like this. I need you to use a bit of cloak and dagger, as it were. Keep an eye on them, and keep us apprised of their movements. I will see to it that you are given directions to their camp and other relevant information.” Darkasha nodded solemnly.

“Oh,” the Nerevarine said as an afterthought, “And feel free to spread fear through their ranks through the use of your particular talent.”

“Gladly.” Hissed Darkasha.

58: Refugees

2008-04-21T09:01:00.001-07:00

I stepped out of the swirling vortex of the teleport and landed on a platform just behind Darkasha. A tall Altmer helped me down off the elevated landing, and I immediately began giving her orders.

“Prepare yourself for more arrivals.” I said quickly, “refugees from Ald’Ruhn will undoubtedly be coming this way. I will get someone to help you, but I need to speak to the head of this hall.” She looked stunned for a moment, and then pointed me down to a lower level where some mages were milling around. Darkasha looked uncomfortable in the presence of so many arcane scholars; most could identify him as a vampire without much effort and I worried what their reaction might be.

“Darkasha, get outside and keep your head down, but be on the lookout for the Nerevarine. I’m going to need my staff back now.” He nodded his understanding and tossed the staff to me. The Dark One abruptly entered my mind and a wave of dizziness came over me. It passed, and I strode down to the group of mages on the lower level.

“Which one of you is the head of this guild hall?” I asked to the group at large. They looked at me briefly, their eyes absorbing the details of my face. A thin Dunmer narrowed his fiery eyes at me momentarily, and then responded.

“That would be me.” His voice had hints of the Vvardenfell dialect in it, low and gravelly. “What can I do for you, associate?” He pronounced “associate” slowly, contempt dripping from his voice.

“I would like to speak to you in private, if I may.” I tried to show as much respect as I could, I didn’t want to anger him anymore than I already had. He frowned, and then gestured off to the side. I followed him through a door into what appeared to be an office, but it was difficult to tell due to the stacks of scrolls and books scattered around the desk and floor.

“I think you need to explain who you are, outlander, and you’d best do it quickly.” He closed the door behind me and stood holding it shut.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, sir,” I said, giving my best effort to get to the point. “I have just come from Ald’Ruhn, and the Daedra have begun to attack.” He nodded; he was not surprised by this, apparently. I continued, “I’m certain you know that it will not survive the assault, but with any luck we may be able to get some survivors out via the guild teleport. My companion stayed behind in Ald’Ruhn to help guide people to safety. I recommend we begin preparing for any refugees who come through the guild teleport.” The Dunmer cut me off and opened the door back into the main hall.

“Covers-his-claw,” the Dunmer shouted out into the room, “We’re going to have people coming through the teleport, see to it that they are taken care of.” A short Argonian nodded his head and then jogged up the stairs. The guild head closed the door once more. “What else?”

“Well, I don’t know how else to put this… Gnisis is going to be attacked very soon.” I said.

“What makes you think that?” The Dunmer asked, mild surprise crossing his usually skeptical brow.

“Two things: Number one, I heard it from a very reliable source; Number two, they’re targeting the major cities of the three great houses. In any case, we should begin preparing for a siege, and should inform the city guard as soon as possible. I’m no defense strategist, and I don’t know the city of Gnisis very well, but apparently this city is defensible.” A sudden thought occurred to me. “Also, we may want to gather as many silt striders as we can and keep them near the city. They could be quite handy.” A look of disbelief formed on the Dunmer’s face, and I immediately regretted bringing up such a strange idea when I didn’t have time to explain my reasoning. Luckily, I was saved any humiliation by a figure pushing through the doorway into the office, followed by Darkasha. The trail of ash that drifted through the air behind the figure was familiar to me, even though the ash coated face seemed slightly different than it had on Red Mountain.

“Nerevarine!” The guild head exclaimed and fell to his knees in reverence. “I am honored! If I had known that… If there is anything I can do…”

“Enough.” The voice boomed through the air, though the Nerevarine’s lips did not move. He turned to me, “You have informed the guild head of the coming storm. He will do all that is required of him. Now come, we have much to discuss.” He strode out of the room and I helped the Dunmer to his feet, he looked slightly shaken, but he pushed past me and began issuing orders to other mages in the guild hall. I rushed after the Nerevarine.

Small groups of refugees had already begun to congregate in pockets around the guild hall, clearly lost and terrified. Perhaps fifteen to twenty people had made it through so far, and Kael was obviously not among them. A mage was trying to usher the scared civilians out into the streets where at least they would be out of the way, but they were slow to move, clearly in shock. As I followed the Nerevarine and Darkasha up the stairs out of the basement where all the activity was, a loud cry of frustration came from the teleport room.

“I’ve lost contact!” yelled the Altmer who controlled the teleportation fields. “No one else can come through!”

57: Ald'Ruhn

2008-04-10T14:24:00.000-07:00

The first party of soldiers departed from Ghostgate shortly after the storm had fully subsided. They would ensure that Dagoth Ur was safe to inhabit and clear the way for the injured in the second party. I knew they would have no trouble clearing the ancient Dwemer fortress out, especially since the Nerevarine had “prepared for their arrival” already. I was not worried about them.

Darkasha drank deeply from healing potions that I had provided for him as we set out with the first party of soldiers. We would follow them north for a short distance before heading west to Ald’Ruhn. With any luck we could hike through the ashen mountains in time to avoid the attack. We were proceeding slowly, however, and the group of soldiers soon left us far behind. Darkasha could walk, but not fast enough for my liking. I too was enfeebled, as Darkasha needed the Staff for support, and so each step I took caused a shooting pain through my absent toes. Kael was the only one among us fit to climb the ashen slopes, but he was burdened by our slow progress.

“At this rate we’ll never make it to Ald’Ruhn in time.” I grumbled out of frustration. “The city will have fallen by the time we arrive!”

“Perhaps we can buy some time.” Kael said, hefting his pack higher onto his shoulder. “If we can warn the people there, they may be able to prepare for the attack. I will move ahead of you two and make it to Ald’Ruhn in time to inform them of the coming darkness.”

“Gods give you speed,” I said. He nodded and ran off to the northwest. I turned to Darkasha, who was a good twenty paces behind me. I looked with curiosity at the staff, which was pulsing with an angry red glow. Darkasha appeared to take no notice of any animation within the staff, nor had anyone ever noticed the unusual nature of the staff. Apparently, I was the only one who had any inkling of the Dark One’s presence. Since I had handed the staff off to Darkasha, I had felt the absence of the Dark One in my mind. It was a refreshing change, though I did miss the wise guidance he had often imparted to me. I waited for Darkasha to catch up and then knelt to examine his legs. They were healing quickly, but they simply couldn’t bear the weight of Darkasha’s body. As I knelt, I gripped the base of the staff and felt the flood of the Dark One’s thoughts return to my own. He was furious. Mostly he didn’t appreciate being left deaf dumb and blind (apparently he couldn’t enter Darkasha’s mind). An onslaught of angry reprimands stormed across my thoughts, but I was able to quickly get him under control. I needed his help healing Darkasha’s legs, and I wanted to explain that Kael had left to buy some time.

I forced as much magic as I could into healing Darkasha. I released the staff and felt the Dark One slowly pulled from my mind. Darkasha flexed and stretched his legs experimentally. “They do not hurt as much now, but they are still weak.” He managed to keep pace with me now, and we set off for Ald’Ruhn once again.

It took a few hours, but we finally reached the pale walls of Ald’Ruhn. No Oblivion gates marred the land near Ald’Ruhn, though the tension in the air was palpable. A small force of guards was erecting a barricade across the wide opening in the walls that served as the city’s main entrance. The city was not at all prepared for an attack. The walls themselves were not continuous around the city, though some breaks in the wall had been filled in with a single layer of bricks and mortar, a hasty patch job which would easily crumble under the coming assault. I knew then why the Nerevarine had avoided Ald’Ruhn; it was indefensible.

Darkasha and I shuffled through the dusty streets in search of the mages’ guild and salvation. I noticed a long line of worried citizens crowded around the slit strider platform. After a short time searching for the guild hall, I saw Kael beckoning me toward a squat structure. We entered the hall and Kael immediately pointed us down to the basement. Kael had an unusual look in his eyes, as if he were preoccupied with something. As we reached the teleportation platform, Kael took me aside while Darkasha began to teleport to Gnisis.

“You’ll have to go on without me.” Kael said quietly. I said nothing. “I can’t just leave all these people unprotected! I have to try and help them.”

“Kael,” I said, “You’ve seen the walls, this place cannot survive the coming onslaught. What are you possibly going to do? You’ll just be one more head on the daedras’ pike.”

“I know we can’t last, but maybe I can buy some time. If we can get some more refugees out through the guild teleport…” A rumbling explosion cut him off. “Just go, I’ll follow when… if I can.”

56: Best Laid Plans

2008-03-16T16:48:00.000-07:00

The Nerevarine laughed.

“Well done, I am glad you’re capable of simple associations.” He briefly fingered the ring that glowed on his finger. “Tell me, why did you come here?”

“To find you.” I said. I couldn’t say much else, really.

“Yes, yes. But why did you let the Blades make you their puppet?” His smile faded.

“I’m not…” I began.

“Oh but you are! They will pull your strings until you break.” His eyes shone with quiet fury. “You will give them everything, and they will take it all from you. Politicians!”

“What are you talking about?” I yelled.

He stopped, seeming to calm down. “I’m sorry, I haven’t quite gotten over an old grievance I have with the Blades. Just be aware. They will use you for their purposes and then discard you just when you begin to show promise.” He folded his hands in finality; we were done with that subject. “There are more important things now than old grudges. The Daedra advance towards Ald’Ruhn. Do not act surprised, you knew they would attack again after Balmora. We will now move to Gnisis in preparation for the battle there.”

“But what about Ald’ruhn?” I asked, feeling lost.

“There is little we can do for them. The Imperial fort there will be able to stand against the attack for a short while, but the Daedra will not stop until everything is crushed. The mistake they made by pulling out too early at Balmora will not be repeated. We must look ahead. The Daedra are targeting the great houses in succession, I believe. Hlaalu is finished in Vvardenfell with the destruction of Balmora; its council was in session there at the time of the attack. They were not much in the way of soldiers anyway. House Redoran is the next challenge for the Daedra. Gnisis is the next largest Redoran city after Ald’ruhn. We will move there and stem the tide.”

“What about the Telvanni?” I knew they were the only other House with a sizeable hold over Vvardenfell.

“They pose the greatest threat to the Daedra, and are most prepared for an invasion. They can take care of themselves. I believe their councilors may have foreseen this crisis, at least enough to prepare for danger. Whatever the reason for their strength, we will not concern ourselves with them at the moment. The attack on Gnisis will occur soon, of that we can be certain.”

“So what are we going to do exactly?” I asked, hoping to clarify the plans.

“You will return to Ghostgate and muster what you can of their remaining forces. They will move as quickly as possible to establish a new fortress at the heart of Red Mountain. The Dwemer fortress at Dagoth Ur will be their best option. I have seen to it that the guardians there will not harm our people while this crisis continues. Ghostgate is no longer defensible, and we will need a central base of operations on Vvardenfell from which we can manage the coming battles and accept any refugees. On that note, I will send word to the survivors at Balmora to make their way to Dagoth Ur. After you have informed the guards at Ghostgate of their role, you and your two companions will make your way with all due haste to Ald’ruhn. With any luck you will be able to catch a mage’s guild teleport to Gnisis before the Daedra strike. Do not attempt to help fend off the attackers, it will only mean your death. Should you fail to reach the teleport in time, make your way to Gnisis on foot. I hope you can make it there in time, you will be crucial to the success of that battle. Go now, I have matters to attend to of my own. Hurry, the invasion will not wait for you.” He smiled faintly at me, and then disappeared.

My head reeled from the orders I had just received. Still, my feet pushed off the ground with a will of their own, propelling me towards Ghostgate. I breathed easily as the wind died down and the ash settled back to the ground. I realized I was not far from Ghostgate at all, and the time I had spent lost in the ash storm had not carried me more than a few hundred feet from the tall structure.

I blew open the boarded-up door and burst into the captain’s base of operations. I demanded his attention and he gave it, though he eyed me curiously. I explained the orders that the Nerevarine had given me to deliver to him. He seemed reluctant at first, but then he rose and began issuing orders to others. Satisfied, I looked around for Kael, and I found him at Darkasha’s side. Darkasha was awake and sitting up, but he still looked like he was in pain.

“Come on,” I said, my voice strengthened by some sort of divine intervention. “We have to go, quickly.”

Kael glared at me. “Where have you been? We can’t go anywhere until we have found the Nerevarine.”

“That’s where I was, I found him. He told me we need to move now. I’ll explain when we start going.”

“Darkasha’s legs are broken! What are we supposed to do about that?” Kael growled at me, his eyes fierce.

I knelt by Darkasha’s legs. They were not in good shape, but I began healing them as best as I could. The Dark One coached me on my techniques as I poured healing magic into the furry limbs of Darkasha. A short while later, Darkasha was able to stand, and could hobble feebly. “I have survived worse. But I can’t really walk on my own without some support.” Darkasha said weakly.

“Here,” I said, hesitantly, “Take my staff.”

55: Storm Shrine

2008-01-31T15:14:00.000-08:00

Something clicked in my brain, and the Dark One supported the connection. “Winds don’t pick up this fast, not naturally.” His words slipped into my mind like a cliff racer taking to the sky. “Should we tell Kael?” I thought, gripping the smooth metal of the staff uneasily. “No,” the Dark One said, “Let him watch over Darkasha and the wounded. I rather think it should be this way.” I nodded and returned to Darkasha’s side to determine his status.

He was still sleeping fitfully. I healed him lightly before proceeding to the unboarded doorway. I thanked the Nine that I did not see Kael as I made for the exit. A guard would not let me out at first. “Too dangerous!” He said, barring my way “You’ll get lost, or suffocate in the ash.”

I briefly explained my case to him, telling him of my ability to handle myself quite nicely. After he would not budge, I tried some of the Dark One’s suggestions. After he had been sufficiently intimidated (he began to look rather pale after I explained how I would kill him, per the Dark One’s imagination), he allowed me to push past him and out into the howling winds.

The world was gray. I took one step away from the hastily shut doorway and was nearly knocked to the ground by the force of the wind. The staff was all that kept me standing, and even it was shaking in my hands. The storm blocked the sun, and visibility dropped to just a few inches. I proceeded through the shattered portcullises that guarded the entrance to Red Mountain. I stumbled into the gray mist, and Ghostgate was soon lost behind me.

“This is madness!” I thought. “Why did I come out here? I’m going to get lost… never mind, I AM lost!” The staff glowed, but I could hardly see it through the ash that flowed through the air. It had begun to settle in my robes, and I shook myself briefly to dislodge it, but it was soon replaced by even more ash. “Why did I do this?” I thought again.

“You know as well as I do.” said the Dark One. “This storm isn’t natural, and the only being powerful enough to conjure winds this strong is the Nerevarine.” I grunted, though the noise was lost in the roar of the wind. It was true; the storm had very magical elements about it. Indeed, I could see the occasional spark of energy discharge around me. I trudged on through the storm, my robes heavy with ash.

The flares of energy became more and more frequent as I continued. They flashed around me malevolently, some even forming into angry spirits before dissipating. Soon my way was illuminated by the energy, and the ash storm had begun to die down. I was soon blinded by the light of the energy, and I closed and shielded my eyes from the maelstrom. Being blind, I soon ran into a short pillar and felt the wind knocked out of me. I fell and coughed, dislodging the ash from my lungs and nose. After a fit of coughing, I realized that the world had gone silent. I cautiously opened my eyes and looked around.

The bolts of energy had stopped flashing, though they hovered in the air nearby, as if waiting. The ash storm raged around me, though not in my immediate vicinity. I was sitting in a bubble of calm, and the energy bolts were floating patiently at the very edge of this bubble, with ash flying around beyond. I looked briefly at the pillar that had knocked me down. It was ashen grey and not different from the rest of the bleak landscape.

But then, it was different. Other volcanic spires were irregular and bulbous, whereas this one was angular and symmetric. I brushed at it carefully, and ash fell off of it in chunks. Beneath the layer of gray powder was a dull orange and tan wooden pillar. It took me a moment to recognize it as a shrine to the Tribunal. I brushed even more of the ash off and sat staring at it. It pulsed very faintly with magic, and I knew it would bestow a blessing on me if I said a prayer to the Tribunal.

“Sad, isn’t it.” said an unfamiliar voice. It seemed to resonate from the very ash at my feet, and the flares of energy around the bubble pulsed with the voice. “Three usurpers cut down by their own ambition.”

I squinted out into the ash storm, trying to see where the voice was coming from. The energy around the dome drained down into the ground, though the ash storm raged on. I turned back to the shrine and found the source of the voice. He was sitting cross-legged on the top of the shrine and staring directly at me. He was covered in a thick layer of ash, and even his hair was covered by a skullcap of ash. He smiled faintly, his hands supporting his chin. His right hand was clad in a thick gauntlet, and on his left index finger a very distinctive ring shimmered even in the darkness.

I gasped with realization, “Nerevar!”

54: Blood Donor

2008-01-21T16:38:00.000-08:00

Darkasha was in no shape to continue, and Kael and I were exhausted from the battle. Nighttime was approaching anyway, so we decided to rest awhile at Ghostgate. The guards had set about extinguishing the fires that the Daedra had set and cleaning up the dead and wounded.

I tended to Darkasha as best as I could, but his wounds were grievous. Besides the broken bones he had sustained when the Xivilai had thrown him into the wall, he had sustained several deep gashes that I had been unable to see until I examined him closely. He bled very little, no doubt due to his state of undeath, which made finding all of his wounds next to impossible. The blood I had taken from his pouch had kept him alive (or rather, undead), but it was not enough to sustain him for long. Ghostgate is very isolated from any civilization or even animal life, and it was not as if Darkasha could go hunting. A gruesome idea occurred to me, and at first I was apprehensive to carry it through. Eventually though, I knew that it was the only solution.

I approached the priest who was tending to the fatally wounded. “How are they doing?” I asked carefully.

He looked at me sadly, “I have stabilized as many as I can, but several of them will die within the hour, I am sure.” He hung his head. “Nerevar protect us.”

I shifted my weight nervously, uneasy about what I was about to ask. “Sir,” I finally said, “If a dying man could donate a part of himself that would save the life of another, would you think it right of him to do so?”

He looked at me quizzically. “An interesting moral dilemma.” He thought for a moment. “I have every ounce of respect for the dead, and I would never damage their remains. But those who are dying are a different matter.” He sighed and said, “I suppose it would depend on what part of the dying man would have to be donated.”

“How about, say, his blood?” I said, gently probing.

“What are…” Realization dawned on him. “You don’t mean, a transfusion of blood? That almost always kills the recipient, especially if they are different species!”

“Not a transfusion, as such.” I said, pulling the empty blood vials from behind my back. “Might I see the doomed?”

The priest hesitated momentarily. Then he rubbed his brow and said “Very well, if it will save another life.” I decided not to mention that Darkasha wasn’t exactly alive. He led me to a man who was writhing in agony and struggling to breathe, his chest had been collapsed and his legs broken. I knelt down beside the man and made a small cut in the vein of his arm with a knife the priest provided me. It began to bleed immediately, but the man did not seem to notice it over the pain of his death throes. I used a telekinesis spell to suck the blood out of the man and into several vials, both the small ones that belonged to Darkasha as well as several of my own. I filled the vials shortly before the man died, and the priest began to administer the traditional service to him while I stepped away to Darkasha. I emptied several of the large vials down Darkasha’s throat and could see him healing before my eyes. I cast some healing spells to speed the process, and hid the remaining flasks of blood under the pile of sheets that Darkasha was lying on. I had done all I could for now, and Darkasha slept fitfully.

I searched for Kael, finding him conversing with the captain of the guard. He was trying to get information about the Nerevarine. I listened in carefully.

“He passed through here several weeks ago on his annual pilgrimage to Red Mountain,” said the captain. “He normally stays for several days, so initially we were not worried about him. After a week, we began to search for him.”

“Could he have left some other way?” asked Kael, “Perhaps he could have left towards Gnisis without passing through Ghostgate.”

“True, the Ghost fence has been deactivated, but we still monitor traffic in and out of the mountain. Anything that crosses the fence is logged. The Nerevarine has not left Red Mountain.” The captain spoke wearily. “We sent out several search parties, but ash storms blew up every time we went out. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that He doesn’t want to be found, or at very least something doesn’t want him found. I wish I could tell you more, but that’s all I know. I could probably get you an annotated map of Red Mountain if that would help.”

“It would help immeasurably, thank you.” Kael said, though he was soon lost in thought. I left him and tried to walk off some of the soreness I felt from the battle. I stepped outside into the night and felt a warm breeze brush across my face. Cliff Racers cried in the distance, and guards were dragging the Daedric dead to a pile to be burned. The wind began to pick up, and ash blew about my feet. A mumbled something that sounded like “Not another one.” I wondered what he was talking about, but just let the wind cool me off a bit. The wind was continued to increase, and soon my robes were whipping about in my face. I wrapped them tighter about me and went inside. The guards had stopped moving the bodies, and were instead hastily boarding up the smashed entrance to the tower. They seemed uneasy, and several were grumbling about “the pile getting covered up before it got burned.” I asked them what they were so uneasy about.

“It’s the wind,” said a gruff voice. “Ash Storms are coming.”

53: Ghostgate

2008-01-13T13:13:00.000-08:00

Ash shifted under my feet as I strode towards the shattered frame of the door. It was dark inside, so I cast a spell to illuminate the interior of the building. Kael stepped into the pale green mist that glowed in the corridor. He drew the massive claymore from his back and proceeded cautiously through the eerie green mist. I stepped in behind him, calling a spell to heal him to the front of my mind. I would not be able to safely fire any sort of spell around him, so I continued to light our way through the darkened corridor. In a short time we came to a dimly lit room that had obviously been the site of a recent battle. The bodies of Daedra and Dunmer littered the floor, and it had become slippery with blood. A small fire in a corner of the room provided enough flickering yellow light to make everything seem sinister.

I once again illuminated the room to make searching easier and to ensure we wouldn’t be surprised by anyone trying to sneak up on us in the dark. As soon as I had cast the spell, there came a cry from a man slumped over a chair. I immediately ran over to him and removed the frightening mask made of volcanic glass that he was wearing. A trickle of blood dripped from his nostril, but he was still alive. I began healing him as best as I could, but he was still immobile when I finished. Nevertheless, he was awake and in minimal pain. Hopefully he could shed some light on the situation.

“What happened here?” I asked him while Kael and Darkasha continued to search the room.

“What does it look like?” The Dunmer growled and then clutched his chest in pain. “We got attacked, ya great s’wit! They just started pouring in from Red Mountain; we held them outside the gates for as long as possible, but they broke through pretty quick.” He coughed and I cast a healing spell into his chest. “We pushed them back into the other tower just a bit ago, but they could break through the remaining guards any minute.” A crash came from beyond a door near Kael. “What’re you waiting for, fool? Go help them!” The Dunmer coughed and pushed me away.

I jogged over to the door and pushed through just behind Kael. We entered a high ceilinged room where a battle still raged. Kael jumped in to hack at the snarling Daedra, and I began healing and supporting the remaining guards. Darkasha soon joined the fray, jumping into the midst of several large Daedra. With our help, the guards began to push the Daedra back into the other tower. A collective battle cry rose from the guards as we turned the tide of Daedra.

It was answered by the deafening roar of a massive, blue-skinned Xivilai who crashed into the line of guards and sent them reeling. The morale of the guards suddenly broke, and they began retreating. Several completely turned tail and ran out of the room in terror. Darkasha jumped on the back of the huge Xivilai and stabbed him in the throat. I almost cheered until the creature threw Darkasha off his back and into the wall behind me. It then turned towards me and began to swing its twin claymores as it advanced towards me. I stumbled backwards away from it and nearly tripped over Darkasha’s limp body. I began firing spells at the Xivilai, hopelessly trying to slow its steady advance. It cut down several guards before one of my spells caught it directly in the face and it faltered. I saw Kael orchestrating a tactical retreat from the room and tried to drag Darkasha out of the room while continuing to fire spells at the Xivilai. Soon I was the only one left in the room, just a few feet from the door into the next room, but the Daedra were advancing towards me rather more quickly than I would have liked.

“This isn’t going well,” said the cool voice of the Dark One. I was too focused to do anything but ignore him. “Let me help.” I continued to ignore him, but soon I felt his mind flowing into mine and giving me a hand. He began channeling his energy into me, and the staff glowed more strongly than ever before. I could feel the amazing amounts of pure energy flowing into me, and time appeared to slow down. Sparks crackled around the staff as I leveled it towards the group of Daedra. The tip of the staff hummed gently and then, without any warning, exploded.

The Daedra were consumed by the expanding burst of crackling energy in an instant. Their screams of surprised pain were muffled by the deafening buzz of the explosion. I felt the energy leave me and time returned to its usual pace. I watched the energy bouncing off the high ceiling and funneling into the tower where the Daedra had been attacking from. It continued to bounce around in the far tower, and I could hear the occasional scream of pain echoing in the foreign tongue of the Daedra. I dropped the staff onto the floor, watching as bouts of steam billowed out of the still humming metal.

“You’re welcome,” the Dark One’s voice said as it fell out of my mind just as the staff fell to the floor. I shuddered and turned to Darkasha, who was still unconscious. I was drained of magic, and I knew my healing spells wouldn’t be as effective as the small vials of blood that Darkasha kept tucked away on his person. I dug around in his pockets for a few moments before I found the pouch that contained the vials. Many of the vials had broken from the impact with the wall, but I pulled the corks out of the intact ones and poured the viscous red liquid down Darkasha’s throat. I saw his wounds close and heard the cracking of his ribs as they realigned from the effects of the blood.

The guards had returned to the room and gone into the far tower to search for any survivors. I knew they wouldn’t find any. Kael crouched down next to me and looked at me suspiciously. Then he smiled.

“I’m damn glad you’re on our side, Will.” Kael chuckled and then went to help the other guards loot what remained of the Daedras’ bodies. I stepped over to the staff, which had stopped steaming and had returned to glowing faintly. I bent down and picked it up, feeling the Dark One’s mind returning to mine. I leaned on the staff gratefully.

“Thank you,” I told the Dark One, “Thank you, my friend.”

52: Uninhibited

2007-11-25T13:01:00.000-08:00

“Very well, I’ll take you to Ghostgate. Have a seat, though. It will be a short while.” Dalen pulled at a knot of nerves in the control panel of the strider and I felt the creature rumble and set off. I sat down on the leathery bench and waited.

Soon I was bored, and began experimenting with a number of modifications to some of my spells. I was not changing anything big about them, I would need a spell making altar for that, but certain details such as gesture and concentration could be adjusted. Eventually I was satisfied with my improvements and I gazed out over the foyada. It was ashen and bare, but the occasional shalk or kagouti stirred across the empty floor of the ravine.

After a short amount of time, Dalen called out and said Ghostgate was visible. I stood and walked to his side. Darkasha and Kael did the same. Sure enough, the three buildings of Ghostgate were visible, and I could see through the middle one to the other side. As we approached, I noticed that there was absolutely no one outside. I thought this might be because an ash storm was coming, so the people had decided to take shelter. I asked Dalen about it, but he said he hadn’t been here since he was a boy. “That was back when the shimmering blue ghostfence was still containing the devil within. Gods praise the Nerevarine.” He said and bowed his head slightly in reverence. Still, something was unnerving. As we approached even closer, I could see that the iron portcullises that had acted as a gate had been ripped apart, as if some massive creature had forced entry into the contained area of Red Mountain. As I was about to point this out to my companions, something crashed through the wooden door that entered into the secondary building. I realized with horror that it was a person, and shortly afterwards a huge blue Daedra pushed through the splintered doorway after the crumpled person. It looked up at us watching from atop the silt strider and roared.

“Dalen! Do something!” Kael said forcefully. Dalen looked at him confusedly, but then realized what was going on down on the ground. He started pushing the strands of the strider’s “brain” to the side before reaching in and removing a small blue crystalline shard. Immediately, the strider screeched and began to shudder with what appeared to be, for lack of a better word, rage.

Dalen explained, “This is an anger inhibitor that stops the strider from crushing people.” He held up the crystal before placing it in a small leather pouch he had at his side. “Now, let’s take care of that demon.” He pulled a few levers and the strider threw a massive leg at the Daedra. It caught it right in the chest and sent the blue creature flying into the steep wall of the foyada. The Daedra twitched and slumped, clearly dead.

“Nice kick.” Kael said, patting the leathery walls of the strider. “Alright, let’s get down there. There’s probably more inside…” He trailed off at the sound of a stony grating sound coming from behind us. Dalen maneuvered the strider so we could see the source. “Oh gods no.” Kael sighed.

Erupting out of the floor of the ravine were two massive stone pillars in a disturbingly familiar shape. “An Oblivion gate!” Darkasha hissed and drew his sword. I gripped the Staff and thought desperately. The Gate was much wider than the other gates I had seen. Burning red energies coalesced between the two pillars and soon dozens of Daedra were pouring through from the other side. Dalen frantically began pulling at the controls of the strider, which lurched and shuddered as it kicked and stomped the life out of the Daedra crowding the valley floor below. They began hacking at the thick legs of the strider, which squealed and began stomping of its own accord. Dalen removed his hands from the control panel and instead pulled a bow from somewhere beneath the panel. He began firing arrows down into the horde of Daedra, and I could see that their numbers were thinning. I cast a flurry of spells down at them, being careful to avoid the strider’s legs. The Daedra were almost all gone when I heard a horrible screeching noise coming from the Oblivion Gate. We all turned and looked, though the strider was too busy stomping to see.

Emerging from the gate was a grotesque, metal contraption that reminded me vaguely of a giant spider, though where its head should have been there was only a burning sigil stone. The contraption screeched again and spewed a fireball directly at the strider. Dalen jumped and pulled on the control panel, and the strider ducked just as the massive fireball passed overhead. “Dalen! See if you can't swipe that sigil stone out of its face!” I yelled, hoping the thing worked similarly to a Gate. The strider swung a massive claw towards the face of the contraption, but the thing raised a leg and deflected the blow. Nevertheless, a huge dent was put in the side of the machines leg and it limped a bit. It continued to crawl its way out of the Oblivion Gate, though, and I yelled to Dalen over the screeching and grating of the battling behemoths, “Try to take out the gate itself! Maybe we can cut that thing in half!”

Dalen nodded and the strider maneuvered to the side of the gate, but not before ducking under another of the machine’s fireballs. The strider began swinging its massive talons into the stone pillar that supported the Gate. I held on tightly as each massive swing sent reverberations through the strider. Each swing whittled away at the impossibly strong stone pillar, but the machine was going to get out before the gate collapsed! Dalen realized this too, and set the strider to climbing on top of the machine! The strider lay down on top of the machine, bracing itself with its long legs. With the massive weight of the strider on top of it, the machine was pinned to the ground, though it flailed its huge legs and tried to roll the strider off of it. Dalen continued his attempts to break the pillar, and after what seemed like an eternity, the pillar shattered. Dalen was thrown off his feet with the force of the shattering blow, and I could only barely stay standing. Great bouts of flame spewed out of the gate at the site of the break, but the energies within weakened and grew dim. Several of the flames licked their way across the upper surface of the strider, and its squeals mixed with the wrenching of metal. Suddenly, the gate collapsed; its energies drained. The machine was severed in half where it lay, and it shuddered and fell still. The strider’s squeals subsided to a dull moan that echoed down the ravine. I helped Dalen to his feet and the four of us surveyed the scene. Dalen got the strider up and off of the contraption, but had it lay back down on the floor of the ravine a short ways away from the scene of the battle.

Dalen replaced the anger inhibitor in the strider’s “brain,” and my three companions and I carefully climbed out of the injured strider, and I could see the massive scars caused by the flames of the Gate’s destruction. I set my hands gently on the chitin of the strider and let healing magic flow into it. The creature was so huge that it had little effect, and Dalen removed my hands and said “There are better ways to heal a strider. Magic has very little effect on these wondrous creatures.” He gently rubbed the shell of the creature and I could see how much he truly loved this creature. “Go now,” he said, “I will take care of my friend here. She will be alright. A few nicks and scratches aren’t enough to hurt you are they my dear?” The strider moaned in reply. I smiled and thanked Dalen before turning to Kael.

“Where did Darkasha go?” I said, looking around for him. Kael shrugged, and then went to loot the bodies of the dead Daedra who littered the floor of the ravine. I looked at the horrible metal contraption and saw that the glowing sigil stone had gone. Curious, I began walking towards the massive thing, but then saw that Darkasha was coming back from the wreckage, holding the sigil stone in his arms. He walked past me and towards the strider. I followed him and he presented the stone to Dalen. “For your efforts,” was all Darkasha said, and Dalen nodded in acceptance. I knew he understood though, and nodded to Dalen in farewell. Kael returned from the battle scene empty-handed and said farewell to Dalen before all three of us walked the last few feet towards Ghostgate.

51: Strider

2007-11-07T17:39:00.001-08:00

As I entered the “cockpit” of the silt strider, I carefully examined my surroundings. The back of the strider curved upwards and slightly over the interior of the cockpit, and it slowly extended and retracted as if breathing. The leathery surface of the interior was very rigid and tough, hardened by exposure to the sun and to the ash storms. Balen began manipulating a panel of wires and bulbs at the front of the cockpit, pulling and squeezing gently. It took me a moment to realize that these were a living part of the silt strider that allowed a skilled operator to maneuver the creature with great precision. Balen was indeed skilled, and the silt strider began lumbering along without so much as a lurch. Balen was focused intently on the task at hand, and Kael, Darkasha and I sat down on the living benches under the shelter of the flap of chitin at the back of the cockpit. They were much softer than the rest of the creature, and were in fact quite comfortable.

The silt strider moved quickly, each leg moving in sequence with the others, and we were soon moving up the ashen ravine towards Ald’ruhn. Balen was soon able to let the creature steer itself, and began talking about the recent improvements to the road network on Vvardenfell. He told us about the carving of trails through the walls of the ravine that made accessing Ghostgate and Ald’ruhn much easier from Balmora.

“Since Red Mountain quieted down, these ravines have become less dangerous, and it’s looking like no new eruptions will occur for many decades. Hopefully the trails we’ve cut will be kept clean and clear.” Balen said, “It was we silt striders that cut the trails. Sure we had some help from the mages guild and House Redoran, but we had all the muscle.” He pulled a wire in the panel and gestured towards the face of the silt strider. The strider lifted a huge claw and held it in the air briefly. “These hooks ain’t just for looks after all.” He looked up at the sun briefly and then turned to a greasy sack by the panel, which he opened and dug around in. He pulled out a huge glob of disgusting slime and dropped it in corner of the cockpit. The smell began to fill the air immediately, and Darkasha cover his sensitive nose and began to moan lightly. Balen returned to the panel and squeezed a small bulb. The floor beneath the glop opened and began sucking down the vile slime. Balen walked over to the orifice and stuck his hands into it. In a matter of seconds, the glop was gone and Balen’s hands had been cleaned by the strider’s “mouth.” Balen looked sheepishly at us and said, “Sorry, but feedin’ time is feedin’ time.” I frowned and shook my head to clear my senses.

We continued for some time. Darkasha stayed in the shade of the overhang and dozed, while Kael looked over a series of documents he received from Caius and other Blades. I wandered around the interior of the cockpit and watched Balen dexterously guide the creature through the narrow ravine. He explained to me more about the anatomy and workings of the strider, though I’ll admit to understanding little of it. Apparently all of the strider is open to a person who knows what switches to pull, and Balen was very eager to discuss the mating and husbandry of young silt striders. Naturally I was politely interested, though I was actually watching the surrounding skies for any sign of fires or the red lightning that I associate with Oblivion Gates. My scan revealed little, as winds had picked up and storm clouds had slowly filled the sky during our journey. I became so engrossed in my search that it took me a minute to realize Balen had trailed off and stopped the strider. I leaned on the leathery edge of the strider and looked down towards the ravine. There was a roughly hewn passage cut into the wall of the ravine, but it had become blocked with a huge pile of rubble that had been cut from the surrounding ravine wall.

I turned to Balen, who was prodding the control panel and making the strider poke at the rubble. “What’s going on?” I asked him.

He frowned. “Something must have closed off this passage. Without it, we’ll have to double back and go all the way around Balmora to make it to Ald’ruhn.”

Kael looked at the rubble and the deep gashes in the ravine side and raised an eyebrow. “What could have caused this? The cuts are so deep into the ravine side!”

Balen looked at the gashes and shrugged. “I guess a silt strider could probably cut it out in a few hours,” he said, “but no one in their right mind would do that! All the silt strider owners across Vvardenfell benefit from this passage!” He sighed and began to turn the silt strider around.

“No,” I said, grabbing Dalen’s shoulder. He jerked, but kept the strider under control. “We can't waste that much time. Keep going north. Take us to Ghostgate.”

50: Plans

2007-09-23T18:25:00.001-07:00

As the victorious group of defenders set about cleaning up the carnage, I was pulled aside by Caius and brought into the fort along with Darkasha and Kael. The grounds inside the walls were packed with refugees from Balmora, and we made our way with difficulty to the central keep.

“We were lucky,” Caius said as we passed through the singed and terrified refugees. “The Daedra attacked from the far side of the city, and we were able to get most of the people to safety before the other gates opened around the city. Still, this is a devastating loss. It will take weeks to clean all this up and we still don’t know if the Daedra will return. Come on in.” We stepped into the keep and were met with a series of curt nods and salutes. Caius led us to a back office of the man who was apparently the commanding officer. We stepped in just as he was stepping out, and I noticed that even the commander snapped a salute to Caius. I was impressed; clearly Caius was a man of great power.

“Now, let us start with introductions. I know all of you, though only from reports.” Caius said as he took a seat behind a great desk that was covered in reports, which he moved aside carefully. “Why don’t we start with you, Kael?”

Kael cleared his throat and said “My name is Kael Bluehair. I have been in the Blades for six years now, and was chosen for my strength in combat and devotion to the Emperor. I had been stationed in Leyawiin for several months before receiving the orders to meet up with you two and teleport to Balmora. That was two days ago, and now that we are all here I am curious what our purpose is. Oh, and that reminds me…” He reached up and tugged at his black hair, which came off in his hands. He dropped the wig and shook out his hair, which was a light blue and hung just past his ears.

“You live up to your namesake!” I said, having never seen such a strange color of hair before. Caius looked at me and gestured that it was my turn to introduce myself. “I am Will Syras, former conjurer and now apprentice mage. My time in prison has weakened my talents, but they are returning to me, slowly. I was placed in prison for accidentally opening an Oblivion gate in the middle of Valenwood. I was released from prison by the Emperor himself as he was trying to escape on the night he was killed. I helped break the siege on Kvatch and have closed several Oblivion gates. I assume I was chosen for this assignment because of my background with Daedra and closing the Gates.” I shrugged and sat down. Darkasha stood as I finished.

“I am Darkasha. I am 75 years old. My life is of little interest, but let it be known that I am a vampire and have been for 50 years. I was approached by the Grandmaster many years ago and asked to serve as a trainer for the Blades. I have done my part, and I assume I was chosen for my significant agility and skill. That is all.” Darkasha sat and was silent.

“I am Caius Cosades. I am the regional commanding officer for all Blades in Morrowind. I have had my hands in a little bit of everything that goes on here, and I don’t intend to stop. Now that that is all over with, let’s get down to business. You have all been assembled here because of a little problem we’re having. You see, the Oblivion Crisis is hitting Vvardenfell and hitting hard. Many northern towns have already fallen, and you all saw what happened here at Balmora. The three great houses are in disarray and the temple is still recovering from the Tribunal’s disappearance. Hlaalu has taken a great hit here today, though luckily many of the councilors were in Vivec City. Telvanni has become even more withdrawn than usual and little communication has come out of the east. Redoran has had it worst of all. The Northwest is in shambles after the attacks, and the only city they really have left is Ald’ruhn. Balmora will take time to clean up, but we didn’t lose that many people. It was strange, like the Daedra just wanted to sack the city but weren’t really interested in the people. I have a theory as to what they wanted, and it brings me to the point of this assignment. You see, the Nerevarine is… missing.”

“Missing?” I said, a bit shocked.

“Yes, he was on his yearly pilgrimage to Red Mountain and just didn’t come back. It’s all very hushed up, as our people can’t really take another morale hit, but we think he has been captured by the Daedra, or worse, killed. I want you three to go to Ghostgate and look for any signs of him. It may be he just had a mental breakdown and is hiding in Red Mountain somewhere, which would be the best case scenario. Still, were preparing for the worst, and he had many artifacts that would be bad if they slipped into the enemy’s hands. So, here is the plan. I have arranged for transportation to Ald’ruhn. From there, you will need to make your way to Ghostgate and begin searching for the Nerevarine.”

“How will we know him when we find him?” asked Kael.

“You’ll know him. Believe me, he’s hard to miss. Which is why this whole disappearance is so damn perplexing. It’s just like Vivec’s disappearance. One day he’s blessing people and reading poetry from atop his temple, the next day he’s flat out disappeared.” Caius sighed, “Just get to Ghostgate, hopefully they’ll have some more information. If you are unable to find the Nerevarine, you are to return here as soon as possible and we’ll go to plan B.” He stood and we followed him out into the main chamber of the keep. He handed some papers to a page and took us out into the grounds of the fortress, and then into one of the watchtowers.

He gave us our pick of some of the weapons and armor stocked in the base of the tower. Kael strapped a massive silver sword to his side and a bow to his back, along with a quiver of arrows and a plain-looking shield. Whoever had made that shield had not been out to win any beauty contest, but it looked like it could take any blow that was put to it. Darkasha sniffed at some of the weapons, but dismissed them, before picking out a handful of lockpicks which he examined very closely and, satisfied, placed them in a small pouch at his side. I looked over the selection of armor fretfully. I was not well acquainted with wearing any kind of armor, but I knew that some would be better than none. Finally, I picked up a glove and pauldron of chitin armor and strapped them to my staff-carrying arm. I would not suffer from any loss of dexterity in that arm, nor would the small amount of weight it added to my pack effect me, and the extra protection might come in handy. I looked a bit silly I’m sure, but if it helped me even a little then it was worth it. When we were ready, we moved up onto the walls themselves, where I was a bit shocked to find a commoner Dunmer standing. Normally the walls were for guards only, but I soon found out why this man was here.

“Hello Balen,” said Caius as we approached the man leaning against the battlements. “ready to go?”

“Of course,” Balen said, and then hopped onto the battlements and jumped off! I ran over to see what had happened, and a massive creature rose from the other side of the wall. A silt strider! Balen sat in the “cockpit” of the creature and laughed, before guiding the creature close enough for Kale, Darkasha and I to climb in. Caius saluted and we set off for Ald’Ruhn.

49: Hot Drop

2007-09-11T18:47:00.000-07:00

I was twirled and buffeted in the swirling vortex that propelled me viciously towards Vvardenfell. Arcane energies twisted about me, lifting and prodding here and there. Beyond the vortex I had a sense of insurmountable speed, feeling the miles pass away beneath me. The wind was knocked out of me several times, and I nearly passed out as the energies raged around me. The Dark One served as a beacon of sense throughout the ordeal, calmly watching the energies with an air of bemusement. I clung to him both physically and mentally, gripping the staff tight and wrapping my mind around his.

After what seemed to be a half an hour, I felt myself slowing. The twirling settled down and the energies pressed less eagerly. I managed a glimpse at the stone I was still holding, noticing it was the source of the energies that powered my momentum, and I saw it too slowing down, it seemed to glow less heavily and the energies burst from it less rapidly. Finally it stopped, and I felt myself spit out of the void.

I flipped end over end down an ashy slope, rolling and tumbling as inertia carried me out of the void. I slowed and gained my footing, shaking myself off and brushing the ash from my robes and eyes. The other two had come to rest a few yards from me, Darkasha significantly further up the slope, and Kael near the bottom. I was standing in the middle of the hill, and noticed an orange glow coming from the far side of the hill. I climbed up past Darkasha to get a better view. I crested the hill and was met with a view I will not soon forget. Below me stretched a city that I had once visited, long ago. Balmora, council seat of House Hlaalu…

…Lay in ruins. Flames burst from once beautiful buildings. Fire ravaged the city, melting paint and consuming wood. The walls lay crumbled in great sections, and the river had slowed to a trickle. The tall towers that had once served as guard posts lay toppled and broken, resting in piles of other crushed and broken dwellings. The flames roared, but it was distant, as if the utter silence that otherwise blanketed the area had snuffed out the sound of the fires.

“Dear gods…” Kael’s voice whispered from behind me.

“It’s Kvatch all over again,” said the echoing voice of the Dark One. It was the first time I had ever heard something close to sorrow in his voice.

“I hope we’re not too late.” Kael said, and I wondered what we could possibly be in time for. The whole city was in ruins! Nevertheless, he began to slide and climb down to the base of the hill, which was just inside the walls of the city. He began digging around in the rubble there, searching for something. I stumbled down after him, keeping watch for Daedra. There was nothing moving other than the flickering flames. It was getting dark, but the fire provided more than enough light. I shuddered as I realized that there were no bodies anywhere. Where had the Daedra taken them? My mind began to drift back to those sheets of meat that hung in the Daedric citadels in Oblivion, but I forced myself away from such a gruesome idea.

Suddenly, a knocking and banging noise came from one of the still intact residences nearby. The building was remarkably untouched, save for scorch marks and a collapsed roof. The banging increased and became decidedly frantic sounding. I ran over and opened the door. A screaming Dunmer man burst out, his clothes partially on fire. He tried to run past me, but I caught him and threw him to the ground, where I stopped the clothes from further igniting and then began to heal his burns. He gradually began to calm down, but there was not much I could do for his scorched flesh. As I tended to the Dunmer, Darkasha nimbly scaled the side of a nearby building and looked out over the wreckage. His ears were erect, and he listened carefully. I watched him for a moment as my magicka replenished. He jumped down and began charging off in a direction near where we had come from.

“The battle still rages!” He yelled as he passed. I quickly helped the survivor up and told him to follow us but to stay out of the way. He nodded and I jogged after Darkasha. I soon heard Kael’s pounding footsteps as he ran with me and past me. Pain seared up my leg, but I pushed through and towards the battle. We ran over the hill and across a small valley, whereupon I noticed a fort of Imperial construction. It was not burning, and I pushed onwards towards the battle which I was now beginning to hear.

I was winded after the short run, but I saw now the Oblivion Gate that threatened the Fort. Daedra were pouring out of it in great numbers, but there was still a large group of defenders too. Darkasha jumped into the fray and began tearing and slicing apart the Daedra who foolishly came too close. Kael stooped and picked up a two-handed sword from a dead defender, and then began to beat back the accursed invaders. I climbed to the top of a boulder near the battle and began firing spells into the group of Daedra, slowing and blistering the flesh of my enemies with freezing blasts of ice. After a long battle, the fighting slowed and then stopped. No more Daedra came out of the gate, and the last twitching survivors of the Daedra were stomped out. Several priests ran out from the fort and began to tend to the wounded. I helped as much as I could, but my magicka reserves were drained and these priests were much more skilled than I. Kael approached me as I tended to the few nicks and scratches I had received from the battle.

“I have good news and bad news.” He said, dropping the chipped and broken two-handed sword on the ground. “The good news is there isn’t anything else coming out of this gate, the bad news is the party that went into close it is nowhere to be found.”

“Well,” I said, “at least they haven’t found any bodies either.” I sighed. “I suppose we’re going to have to go in and look for them, eh?”

“Perhaps, but I heard who was leading the party, and I have absolute faith in his abilities.” As he said this, I heard a rumble and the Oblivion gate shuddered. Its supports began to crack and crumble in upon the gate, and I saw a small group of people beginning to materialize just outside of it. They popped fully into existence just as the gate shuddered and closed. I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasn’t going back into Oblivion just yet.

I ran up to congratulate the party of guards, and soon found myself shaking hands with their leader. He held the sigil stone under his arm and was wearing beaten and worn Blade armor.

“Good to meet you Will,” he said, grasping my hand firmly. “I heard about that incident in Kvatch. Very nice work.”

“And the same to you.” I said, gesturing at the broken Oblivion gate. “And you are?”

“I am Caius Cosades.”

48: Disguise

2007-09-09T19:06:00.000-07:00

After a short search of the city and directions from a passing resident, I found my way to the bar of some lodge or another. It wasn’t particularly busy, but neither was it particularly dirty. It was clean in the strangest sense. The wood of the floors and walls was beginning to give in to the unending dampness that came from living in what was essentially the least moist piece of land in between an ocean, a river and a swamp. Everything had some degree of salt water slime coating it, yet someone had taken a great deal of care in keeping it clean. There wasn’t a single thing out of place, nor a stain on any of the carpets. Considering the fact that this was the most celebrated tavern in the city (according to the resident who had given me directions), the state of the place was impressive.

The Argonian woman behind the bar was straightening and organizing bottles on the wall, and did not notice me. I had no problem with this, as I had no intention of being a customer. I was just looking for a Blade who could lead me in the right direction. I scanned the faces of the people in the tavern, hoping someone would recognize me and call me over. I had no idea who I was looking for, besides a vague sense of what a Blade looks like. Having no luck with the scanning of the patrons, I took a seat at a table in the corner of the room, where I continued my examination of the people in the bar.

One Redguard man caught my attention simply because he was alone. Other than that, he had none of the qualities I was looking for. His shoulders were slumped and scrawny, and the expression he wore on his face as he sipped from a tankard was that of a dimwit. His eyes were glazed and unfocused, but there was some glimmer of intelligence in them. It was his eyes that were out of place with the rest of the image. They were unfocused, but simply because they weren’t interested in what they were looking at. I could tell after a few moments that his eyes were looking elsewhere, but his attention was focused on me. It all made sense. He was a Blade, an expert at blending in and being uninteresting. His shoulders were slumped because years of observation and practice had taught him exactly how to hold them to look like an average person, rather than a soldier. The crumbs and drippings that marred the front of his shirt were intentionally left alone to enhance the illusion. I had found my Blade.

I surreptitiously approached him and placed a few coins on the table in front of him. His eyes snapped up at me and narrowed. “I need some help with some parcels. Want to pay for your dinner?” He downed the last of his ale and shrugged, before standing up and following me out into the street.

After we were outside the tavern, I stopped leading and started following him. He made his way to a shabby little hut in the center of the town. It completed the illusion of him as a peasant. He opened the door of the shack and I stepped inside. As soon as he had closed the door he began interrogating me.

“You are Syras?” he said, stepping away from the door.

“Yes.”

“You made good time. Tell me, how many bars were there on the door of your cell in the Imperial Prison?” My eyebrows raised, but I knew that cell well.

“Thirteen vertical, three horizontal.” I replied almost instantly. He nodded, my test complete.

“Where’s the vampire?”

“Out in the swamp somewhere. He was… hungry.”

“I understand. We’ll have to wait for him before continuing. Make yourself at home. It’s not much, but I understand you won’t be here long.”

“It will be fine I’m sure. What is your name?”

“Kael Bluehair. I’ve been in the Blades for six years now.”

“It shows. You are very well trained. But that is not a Hammerfell name.”

“Indeed, I was raised in Skyrim by Nords. My foster parents found me in a caravan that had been attacked by raiders. I have the blood of a Redguard, but the ferocity of a Nord.”

“You must fit into the Blades very well then.” He smiled and rummaged around in a barrel.

“Hungry?” he said, unwrapping a loaf of bread he had extricated from the barrel.

“Hungry enough.” I said, taking the proffered loaf and breaking it in half.

We sat, munching and talking, waiting for Darkasha to arrive. When he finally did, there was little mincing of words between Kael and him. There was no animosity between them, just a sense of utter professionalism.

“So what is the plan?” I asked, having still been kept in the dark about my assignment.

“We’ll tell you when we have arrived.” Kael said simply. I groaned at the thought of more travel, but Kael pulled three small objects from within his shirt. I didn’t recognize them, but they glowed with magic. “These will teleport us to Vvardenfell. It will probably be quite a jolt considering the distance, but it must be done to make it there in time.” My jaw dropped at the mention of teleportation. It was very difficult magic, and was really only possible on Vvardenfell, but I guess there was some loophole I didn’t know about. I cautiously took hold of the stone he was holding and recognized it as a grand soul gem. Before I could examine it thoroughly, Kael said something and I felt myself pulled across the world…

47: Checkpoint

2007-08-26T15:18:00.000-07:00

The gates of Leyawiin loomed before me, and the warm breeze that stirred my hair had a bit of the sea in its smell. I pulled my hood down and ran my hand through the wispy strands that populated my head. The muggy heat was alleviated by the breeze, but only slightly.

A line of people stood outside of the gates, and there seemed to be some sort of checkpoint where guards prodded and poked at people. I approached the back of the line and overheard a wealthy looking Dunmer complaining about the checkpoint.

“Fetchers! Why are they keeping ME out here with these peasants?” The woman fumed. Her companion, who was apparently a manservant, removed a handkerchief from a small bag and handed it to her. She took it and mopped her brow, “Me! The first child of a much respected family!” She continued about her connections to house Hlaalu and how she knew the Nerevarine “personally.” Something made me doubt the truth of her statement, and I ignored the rest of her complaints. Another of her servants returned from the front of the line, and I grew interested in what he had to say.

“I’m sorry my lady,” the servant said, “but there has been some sort of disturbance in the nearby woods, and the guards are checking everyone for signs of some contagious disease.” The rich woman harrumphed and covered her mouth with the handkerchief. I rolled up my sleeves and moved to the front of the line, where I offered my services in helping anyone who was sick. I did not know any spells to cure diseases, but I had collected a number of herbs and potions that could alleviate the symptoms of anyone suffering until a healer could be found.

“I understand there has been a breakout of some disease?” I said to a guard who looked to be in charge of the checkpoint. He did not look up from a piece of paper he was reading, but he mumbled something.

“I’m sorry?” I said, not understanding him.

He looked up at me, sized me up with his eyes, and then cleared his throat. “Yes and no. The disease is not directly contagious, neither is it incurable, but it is a terrifying prospect. So far no one is sick, but we have to be sure.” He said wearily, clearly not enjoying this assignment very much.

“What is the disease?” I said, curious.

He looked at me again, apparently judging whether I needed to know or not. He sighed and said, “Porphyric Hemophilia. Your surprise indicates you know what that means. We have had reports of a vampire den in the area, and are checking everyone for signs of being bitten or infected. With the amount of traffic this city gets, we’ve had to pull every guard off the streets and get them to check points. It’s really just a big mess, but in my opinion we are avoiding the main problem.”

“Clearing out the den itself?” I interjected.

“Precisely. We know the general area, and it wouldn’t be such a big deal to clear out, but the captains are afraid of losing men, and they don’t want to hire the fighter’s guild to work on it either. Penny pinchers is what they are.” He looked back at the piece of paper. “The one good thing that’s come of it is that we’ve caught seven smugglers and two skooma dealers.” He said, reading the figures off the paper. He shrugged and looked back at me. “So the checkpoint’s not gonna stop for some time, I’m afraid. You’ll just have to wait in line with everybody else.” I nodded, and began to turn to get back in line, when his eyebrows narrowed in recognition. “Wait,” he said, “Aren’t you that mage who retook Kvatch?”

“Yes…” I said with surprise, “How did you recognize me?”

“It’s me: Berich. I was stationed at the chapel the night of the invasion. You came and killed the beasts holding us in the chapel, and then you came back and needed the key to the guard house. Remember?”

I remembered it vividly, and I was embarrassed that I didn’t recognize him. “I’m sorry… I didn’t recognize you without ash and blood caked all over your face.” I smiled and shook his hand. He had to get back to the checkpoint, but he told me to look for him at the guardhouse when the whole ordeal with the vampires’ den was over. He also told me that the checkpoint at the other gate didn’t see much traffic and that I could get in faster that way. I thanked him and made my way to the other checkpoint.

I made it into the city in a very short time, though I neglected to mention I had been traveling with a vampire for almost two days now. However, once I was inside, I didn’t know what to do. Dar’Kasha was apparently still hunting, and I had no idea when he’d be back or where to meet him. In his haste to find blood he had also neglected to tell me where I could find another Blade to speak to about my assignment.

The Staff glowed, and the Dark One said, “Try a tavern. Blades are soldiers: they like to get drunk.” I thought it a bit early in the evening for spirits, but it was as good a guess as any, and I began searching the streets for a tavern.

46: The Journey

2007-07-18T21:16:00.000-07:00

I awoke from my rather stiff bed quite early, the sun had not yet risen above the horizon, though the sky had taken a golden hue. I stretched my aching limbs and massaged the muscles of my leg. They hadn’t given me any trouble the night before, but now they were beginning to ache, and my foot throbbed with a painful beat. I drew my robes up around me and bit into an apple before descending to the first floor of the inn.

I took another bite of the apple and nodded to the inn keeper, who seemed to be trying to tidy the place up a bit in case any new travelers stopped in. It was a quiet place, no doubt the nearby Oblivion gate had been hard on their business. Indeed, when I told the innkeeper the preceding night that we had closed the gate, he simply embraced me and told me the rooms were free whenever we wanted them. Unwilling to help with his menial task, I stepped outside into the warm morning.

We had not yet reached the sweltering swamplands near Bravil and Leyawiin, but the forests here were in stark contrast to the woods near Cheydinhal. I walked slowly through the nearby woods, stretching my legs and gathering ingredients for potions. The usefulness of such ingredients had proved itself the previous night, with the heat relief potions I had chanced to make many days ago. I was beginning to remember many of the effects of various and sundry ingredients, and began putting together recipes in my head for useful potions.

I returned to the inn to see if my comrade had awoken yet. He was sitting on the bed in his room sipping out of a large flask I had not seen him with before. He looked up from the floor and glared at me with horrible red slits for eyes. When he greeted me I saw that his fangs were even more pronounced than before. I must have looked shocked because he grinned and sloshed the flask around.

“Human blood,” he said menacingly, “I have to keep some with me for emergency feedings.” He took another swig of the flask and bared his fangs at me, which I noticed had begun to shrink back to their original size. “I can conceal my vampirism so long as I feed, and sunlight has little effect on me as well.” Another swig went down his throat and I noticed his eyes cloud over and then become a natural looking green, though they still had a red tint around the edges of his pupils. He corked the flask and stowed it somewhere in his robes. “That will be enough for now. Now we must depart.” I nodded and he pushed past me towards the exit of the inn. I made to thank the innkeeper and he instead thanked me once again for closing the oblivion gate. He said that he would always keep a room open for me whenever I needed it. I thanked him and followed after Darkasha.

He was already a good ways down the road and traveling at a fast clip, so I walked as fast as I could after him, though my foot protested. I knew I could jog slowly now if I didn’t think about my severed toes, or at least when I was otherwise distracted by fear or anger. Nevertheless, I walked. I called out to Darkasha and he slowed slightly, though not enough to make much difference. Wherever we were going, he did not want to be late. I cast a healing spell on my leg to combat the dull ache in my leg, and pushed on. The Staff crackled with animosity towards Darkasha, and I wondered if perhaps the Dark One was jealous of the vampire’s mobility. I couldn’t blame him, to be honest. I would certainly rather be mobile than crippled, though I would not want to pay the terrible price that was vampirism.

We reached Bravil in fairly good time, but I was exhausted and already a day had passed since Darkasha said we should be in Leyawiin in two days. I honestly doubted we could make it, but Darkasha was determined. I suggested we rent out a small boat and follow the current downstream to Leyawiin, but he adamantly declined and we set off again after a very short rest. It seemed like I had barely sat down before he insisted we begin moving again.

Darkasha walked slower as dawn approached. He withdrew the same flask I had seen him with earlier from within his robes and began to drink, though he downed it in one gulp and became visibly worried. He shook the last few drops of blood onto his tongue and corked the flask with shaking hands. Having read about vampires, I knew that he only had a few hours left before he would become susceptible to sunlight. Vampires (according to the book) have to feed every 24 hours, though they must feed even sooner if the blood is not fresh, as Darkasha no doubt knew. He stuffed the flask back into the folds of his robe and turned to me.

“I must feed soon, or else I will become… enraged.” His eyes darted back and forth with panic, “I… I will return… No, no…. I shall meet you in Leyawiin. Ensure that you are there before sunset, or I shall become very… cross.” With that he turned and darted off into the wilderness.

“He had better hurry,” the Dark One said, rather smugly, “There isn’t any civilization for quite a ways. Even at his speed he will be pushing his luck.” I sighed and began to walk again.

“I just hope he doesn’t rip apart a whole town looking for blood,” I said, shaking my head and trying to return to the pace I was at before the vampire left. “In his state I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s like a skooma addict looking for a fix.”

“What meaningless errand are we going to be doing for the Blades, anyway?” the Dark One groaned, “Surely the vampire has connections with them, though I cannot imagine it.” The Staff pulsed along with his thoughts. I thought about the powerful Khajiit as a Blade trainer, and it clicked.

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” I thought to him, “Though I’m sure you’re right. Darkasha, as odd as it seems, is a Blade.”

Computer trouble

2007-03-18T14:52:00.000-07:00

Well, having a computer explode on you is not a good thing. This is the lesson I learned. Luckily, my computer didn't ACTUALLY explode, but it came darn close. So here I am again, struggling to remember where the hell I was going with Will... But have no fear, I should be back in some semblance of my former self in a short time. Bis dann. (learn german, its nifty)

45: Sigillum Sanguis

2007-02-12T17:40:00.000-08:00

The entrance to the second minor tower opened directly into another bridge lock chamber. The massive gears were guarded only by an emaciated looking scamp, and they were soon turning and clanking after I had dispatched the creature and pulled the giant lever. I hoped to avoid the majority of this tower’s denizens by returning to the first tower’s now empty corridors, but as I stepped out onto the bridge connecting the two secondary towers, I realized that it was retracting faster than I could hope to outrun. I did confirm that the bridges leading to the Sigil Keep were extending and I could now make my way towards the stone.

I returned to the interior of the tower. Darkasha was sitting against the rough hewn stone of the wall, and sipping one of my heat relief potions. I helped him to his feet and he shook himself.

“The heat has been getting to me, I am sorry for my… sluggishness.” He said as he wiped some sweat from his brow. He pulled a wicked looking sword from the depths of his robe and swished it in the air. “I will attempt to be more useful.”

“That’s excellent news,” I said and blew out a sigh of relief. “And it couldn’t have come at a better time.” I then explained what I thought we were about to face, and he took it in with a silent gaze. “Do not worry about the heat; you will become more and more used to it.” I then turned and proceeded down towards the heart of the tower, where the bridge to the Sigil Keep connected. I was cautious, and used a spell of detect life to keep me from being surprised.

Darkasha’s aid made the trip towards the bridge incredibly easy compared to the battles I had fought before. He was slowed by the heat, but his speed was still unmatchable, and scamps and Dremora withered before the onslaught of his wicked blade. I contributed by keeping him from being surrounded and picking off foes from a distance. We carved a bloody swath towards the bridge, easily dispatching the churls and scamps. We were just about to open the door to the bridge, when a massive voice boomed out:

“YOU WILL FALL BEFORE THE MIGHT OF DAGON!” I turned and saw a massive blue-skinned creature hulking towards me, carrying two monstrous claymores in each hand and moving at an astonishing rate. Behind him a whole group of Dremora in full battle armor charged, screaming for blood. Darkasha flicked his tail once; sizing up this new enemy, then ran for the door to the bridge. I was closer to the door, and ran as fast as I could (my injury forgotten for the time being) out and along the thin bridge. I made it about a fourth of the way before Darkasha overtook me, and I knew then that nothing stood between me and the blue Daedra. I hurriedly summoned a scamp to slow the beast, but knew it would be cut through instantaneously by the razor sharp edges of the two claymores. My mind raced, and I knew that the Dark One was panicking as well.

All at once it hit me. I would use the creatures own momentum against it. I pulled a potion from my waist and broke it on the bridge in front of me, then pointed the staff towards the small puddle that coated the bridge and shot a blast of frost at it. I repeated this within a half meter or two and hoped the frost would hold. I had been running while I did this, and did not look back until I reached the other side of the bridge, where Darkasha was striking at the face of an unfortunate Dremora. I saw the crazed Daedra hit the first patch of ice and stumble, but the second patch of ice was what threw it off balance. It screamed as it tried to compensate, but then it tumbled and fell off the side of the bridge. It plummeted towards the lake of lava, its soul returning to the void. The group of Dremora still advanced along the bridge, but at a vastly reduced pace. I looked around near the entrance to the Sigil Keep and found a small, glowing lever, which I pulled hurriedly. The bridge groaned and began to retract, but it seemed far too slow. The Dremora screamed and began to run for me, but the gap between us increased too fast for them. One churl attempted to jump the widening gap. His screams echoed as he fell to his death.

I turned and entered the keep, where Darkasha had successfully cleared the level we were on. I congratulated him and we moved upward. The pillar of flame was rising towards the top of the tower, and I knew we were close to the Sigil Stone that supported this Oblivion gate. The journey was quiet, and there were few threats. It seemed that we had penetrated the only layer of defense the Daedra had set up. Finally, we reached the Sigil Stone Chamber. I carefully made my way up to the fleshy platform that supported the Sigil Stone’s iron chains. A large Dremora patrolled near the fiery sphere, lugging a massive battle ax and grimacing. I motioned to Darkasha, who looked at the guardian and smirked. Slowly, Darkasha faded out of sight, and I barely heard his footsteps moving up the meat-like slope. It sank slightly due to his weight, but otherwise there was no indication of his movement. A few seconds later, the Daedra was lying on the ground, twitching as his fluids drained out of the huge gash in his throat. Darkasha reappeared and flicked his sword to get some of the gore off of it. I approached the floating, trembling chains that held the Sigil Stone in place, Darkasha watched me with curiosity. I prepared myself mentally, then reached into the flames and grasped the pulsating stone. I gripped the smooth, warm surface and pulled with all my strength. The pillar of fire that had previously supported the stone burst into the air as the stone came free. Darkasha screamed as the air filled with fire, but it was more out of habit than pain. The flames did not actually affect us, as we were already being drawn back into Tamriel. Flames melted the inside of the tower and turned the air white. I felt the familiar tugging as I was pulled back into reality.

I landed gracefully, more or less. Darkasha on the other hand was writhing about, trying to get over the effects of the flames and the return to Tamriel. I stopped his writhing and helped him to his feet. Dawn was just beginning to break on the horizon, and I looked around for some place to get my vampiric companion out of the rays of the sun. Not far off through the trees I could barely make out the silhouette of a building. I helped Darkasha to his feet and we walked towards what would hopefully become our resting place for the night.

44: Return to Oblivion

2007-02-08T17:15:00.000-08:00

I hobbled towards the burning gateway and summoned a scamp to deal with a stunted, feeble looking scamp who was quite easily dispatched by my minion. Darkasha still stood a long way away from the portal. I stepped over the scorched body of the scamp runt and stood before the gate. Fiery tendrils licked at me from the edge of the portal, but they did not burn. I reached out and touched the thin film that separated me from the plane of Oblivion, and once again felt the unusual chill that had run through me when I had stepped through the portal at Kvatch. My touch caused slight ripples in the filmy surface, and they continued to bounce around even after I had withdrawn my finger.

I turned and yelled at Darkasha, “Come! These flames do not burn! You needn’t worry, vampire!” I motioned with my hand, signaling him to come closer. “COME!”

He stepped cautiously towards me, and then was standing at my side in a flash. The portal’s tendrils licked at him, but I knew he wasn’t being burned. He stared at the surface of the portal, mesmerized by its twisting facets.

“Now this may be a bit of a shock…” I said, and pushed him with all my strength. He started and tried to push me away, but in doing so he lost his balance and fell through the portal. I sighed and stepped through after him. I felt the chill pass through my body, followed by the inferno of Oblivion.

Darkasha was standing slightly in front of me, his usually graceful body slumped and still. He was staring at the sight before us. I found myself staring as well. Three huge towers rose from the rubble strewn wastes, and corpses hung from the sides of the spires. Fire shot from the middle tower in intermittent bursts, leading me to believe that was where the Sigil Stone was. I clambered on top of some nearby rubble in order to get a better view of my surroundings, but all I could see was the entrances to the two nearest towers. I hopped down and tapped Darkasha on the shoulder. He started and jumped back from me.

“Careful,” I said, “it is unwise to not watch where you are stepping here. We need to find a way into that tower,” I pointed to the center tower. “In there is a thing called a Sigil Stone. If we can remove that we can close this gate. There’s going to be a lot standing in our way though. Come on.” I started moving towards the base of the closest towers.

“It’s so hot.” Darkasha stared into space. “I can’t handle this. My skin is… burning!” He scratched his arms vigorously. I searched through my pack momentarily. I pulled up a large flask of potion that had “HEAT RELIEF” written on it in my own writing. I wasn’t particularly adept at potion making, but I was proud of this. I had made it back in Cheydinhal to be a slow acting relief from heat. I handed it to him and told him to drink it. He chugged it and flinched, but was visibly relieved. I pulled a second and third vial from my satchel, drank one and handed the other to Darkasha for later. He placed it somewhere in his robe and we started towards the tower.

The nearest spire had the words “The Sorrow Keep” written in Daedric runes across its gigantic stone doors. I pressed my hand against the ashen door and it ground open slowly. A blast of spiteful energy exploded beside my head, and I raised the staff to retaliate. The hideous face of a Dremora churl jumped out at me, screaming vile obscenities and swinging a huge mace. A blast of frost from my staff threw him off balance, and I finished him off with a strike from my staff.

“Something is wrong.” I said, kicking the churl’s body away from the door. “This is too easy.” I cast a spell to detect life, hoping to cut through the blackness within the tower. There was no pillar of flame erupting from the center pool of lava like the last tower I had been in in Kvatch’s portal. I stepped back outside and looked toward the central tower. It lay on the other side of a river of lava. However, a pair of extend able bridges jutted out from the two nearby towers and would connect to the central tower. I just needed to find a way to extend them. I pulled Darkasha into the tower and we ascended through the dark, echoing halls.

We fought our way past many scamps and churls, but each died quickly and without much fight. Darkasha never even helped me, and I bashed my way up to the top level with him in tow. The chamber at the top of the spire was similar to the one I had encountered before, but the sigil stone and pillar of fire were gone. Also, a number of huge gears dominated one side of the upper level of the chamber. I left Darkasha to guard a door that led to a bridge connecting the two subordinate towers. There was a crank next to the massive gears that, after I had dispatched the feeble guards, sent the gears spinning. I heard the grinding of stone and hurried to meet Darkasha. Hopefully the bridge to the Sigil Keep would be extended now.

I met Darkasha and opened the door to the outside of the tower. The bridge in front of me was extending towards the other subordinate tower, but a glance at the main spire told me the bridges were not yet extended. The door leading in to the other lesser tower opened and a Dremora stepped out. I immediately summoned a scamp to deal with it, but was surprised to see my summoned creature incinerated before it could even reach the Dremora. I hurled a fireball at the heavily armored thing, but it just shrugged it off. Clearly, this wasn’t like the churls I had fought in the Sorrow Keep.

The Dremora screamed and ran towards me along the narrow bridge. I realized I wouldn’t be able to match it in hand-to-hand or even magical combat for very long, so I readied a dangerous plan that would send either the daedra or myself plummeting several hundred feet into a pool of lava.

As the obscene creature charged, I pulled the Staff back as if I was going to hit the dremora in the face, but then hooked the end of the staff around the thing’s leg and yanked it towards the edge of the bridge. It screamed and plummeted to the lake of lava. I yelled in triumph, and then turned to enter the other tower. Something told me that this “Anguish Keep” would be more difficult to cleanse than the other. I pushed Darkasha in front of me and opened the stone door.

“Let’s go,” I said. “Just two more to go.”

43: Sharing the Pain

2007-02-06T15:06:00.000-08:00

I hobbled along at an increased pace, but I knew that nothing short of a constant sprint could get me to Leyawiin in such a short time. The damned vampire’s expectations were unreasonable. The sun was already beginning its descent by the time I had received Darkasha’s ultimatum, and now it was getting late. I had stopped only once so far, to pay my respects at a wayshrine to Dibella. I had even unwrapped my aching foot and splashed some of the consecrated waters from the basin onto my wound, hoping to cleanse it with the goddess’s blessing. The Khajiit looked on disapprovingly as I did this, his tail flicking irritably from side to side. I re wrapped my wound with a fresh cloth and we set out again.

I did move more freely after the cleansing waters, though still quite difficultly. Darkasha followed me at a distance, flitting between shadows and shrubs so fast that he was simply a blur. He even climbed up a huge tree and began jumping from branch to branch above me as I plodded along, stuck to the ground. I became increasingly angry at him as he showed off his acrobatic talents. He began gaining distance ahead of me and I hurried to catch up to him. Soon I was so angry that I was shooting short blasts of fire at him as he cackled in the treetops.

“Will,” said the echoing voice of the Dark One, “You’re running.”

And so I was. I had been shooting flames from the tip of the Staff and holding it with both hands while running to keep up with the damned Khajiit. All of a sudden, my rage turned to ecstasy. I was running along, laughing at my lack of disability. Then Darkasha was trotting alongside me, moving at an extremely slow pace for him.

“Slow down,” he said, “You will hurt yourself.” I ignored him. I was running again! It was glorious! Why would I stop when there were no signs of pain or…

Then the pain hit. Excruciating, blinding pain shot up my leg, and I screamed and clutched it, tumbling to the ground. It was worse than before. I focused extreme amounts of healing magic into my leg, but the pain wouldn’t fade away. I could even hear the Dark One screaming in my mind, for my pain had transcended the barrier between us. Darkasha forced a bottle to my mouth, and I gulped down a healing potion gratefully. He then gave me another, and I could feel the pain slowly subside.

A few minutes later, I was sitting up and clutching my leg. Tears dripped off of my face slowly, but I had stopped whimpering. Darkasha was standing over me, not forcing me up or even coming very close to me. The Staff lay next to me glowing bright white and vibrating gently. Nevertheless, every movement of the Staff caused it to clatter against the stones quite loudly, and Darkasha flinched at every noise it made.

I reached out and grabbed the staff, and found that it was incredibly warm to the touch. I probed into the Mind of the Dark One and found that he was experiencing incredible pain, as bad as mine had been. In fact, I realized that it was my pain he was living through. Somehow he had siphoned it off and was taking the brunt of it, while I received only a dull ache. Realizing this, I attempted to retrieve some of the pain from him, so that we could share the terrible burden. The glow in the staff subsided as pain ripped through my leg, and once again I was writhing on the ground. At some point, the pain truly diminished, and the staff returned to its usual ebony hue. I was able to quiet the ache in my leg with the help of magic.

Soon I was back on my feet and walking towards Leyawiin. Darkasha became incredibly silent, like a shadow at my side. His cold stare indicated that he had every intention of still making Leyawiin before the next morning, and I soldiered on despite the ache in my leg. In fact, I was moving at an increased pace compared to what I had been able to do the day before, and the ache was fading.

Neither of us said anything as we made our way along the now dark road. Night had fallen during my painful episode, and Darkasha was strengthened by the absence of sunlight. Still, he was incredibly wary. Finally, I broke the silence between us.

“What is wrong?” I said after working out the lump in my throat that remained from my screams. I could see his nostrils flaring then, moving at a quick pace, reading the air.

“Fire.” He said, and I swear that I could hear the fear in his voice. “We are getting closer to it.”

“A forest fire?” The trees were still green and living, surely they couldn’t catch flame that easily.

“No, it is… something else. I also smell,” he sniffed and cocked his head. “Lava… and blood.” He seemed surprised at the presence of blood, but I trusted his nose. Khajiits are known for their sense of smell, and vampires can smell blood from great distances. I had an idea of what he was talking about, but I was afraid to say it.

Then we rounded a corner and I could see the flames. I could also feel the magic that saturated the area. It was a kind of magic that I was very familiar with: Daedric Conjuration. Then I knew, even before I saw the stone pillars that contained the fiery portal, that a gate to Oblivion was open nearby. I gripped the Staff more tightly, then began walking towards the gate. Darkasha grabbed me and stopped my advance.

“What are you doing?” he asked incredulously. “Have you gone mad?”

“No,” I said, “but what I am about to do may seem as such.”

“What?” he asked, releasing me slightly.

“I’m going to close that Oblivion gate.”

42: The Single Step

2007-02-04T07:45:00.000-08:00

I was dripping with rage as I returned to the Arena district the following morning. I felt I was prepared for what Darkasha would throw at me, especially during daylight. After all, I had spent the night reading up on vampires and how to ward them off. I had been disappointed that there wasn’t a singular thing that could hold them at bay, such as a holy symbol or an amulet. There was some useful knowledge contained in the dusty old book I had purchased in The First Edition, and it made for an interesting read, but nothing I read would stop a vampire in its tracks.

I had been so interested in the book, in fact, that I do not know where I spent the night, or how much it had cost. I was fairly certain I had rented a room somewhere, but the rest was a blur. I remember most of what I read, however. Vampires were weak both to fire and sunlight, though how weak they were depended on when they had last had a “meal” of blood. They were generally more skilled in the arts of a thief, sticking to shadows and the night, though they could also be exceptionally fast and strong. After what I had seen in the Arena, I was sure Darkasha was the latter.

I had the thought of a fireball spell at the front of my mind as I approached the pillar where I was to meet Darkasha. I expected to see him cowering in the shadows in a heavy robe somewhere nearby, but instead he was standing in the middle of the plaza, the hood of his dark robe hung loosely around his shoulders. His fur was pale, and the sun reflected off his face quite brightly. I pondered whether the fur shaded his skin from the sun, or if he was simply very resistant to the effects of the sun. I shuddered to think who had been bitten last night.

“Oh good!” Darkasha said with a smirk, “I am pleased to see you, for so many who come to me are… frightened off before their first lesson.”

“I can’t imagine why.” I said with a grimace. “Perhaps it’s the teeth, or maybe your… draining demeanor.”

“Now, now Syras. No need to be so icy.” The Khajiit’s grin grew even wider, and became slightly evil looking. “Now come, we have quite a way to walk.” He turned and began walking towards the coliseum. “I just need to get a few things first.” He said over his shoulder.

“I will wait out here in the sunlight.” I said, “I just love sunlight so much.”

The sun had crawled over the wall, slowly climbing towards the top of its arc. I basked momentarily in the glory of the light. It was warm and comforting, and after a week in cold mountainous regions it was fantastic. I rolled the sleeves of my robe up a ways to let some of the light hit my skin. I realized then how pale it was. I had been in that prison for far too long and I sighed as my skin soaked up the light.

The Khajiit returned carrying a satchel quite similar to mine. “Food,” He said and shook the bag lightly; “we will be out for a while.”

“I thought surely you would have eaten last night.” I said, somewhat viciously.

“True,” he said, then flashed his fangs at me, “I… fed this morning. It was a fabulous feast.” He turned and walked towards the city gates. I followed reluctantly, disturbed by his choice of the word “fed.”

We walked out of the city, though my style of walking was significantly more labored than his flowing waltz. We began walking down the road to Bravil and Leyawiin, according to the road sign we passed. Eventually I had to stop and rest my legs, for they were cramping up and slowing down.

“Wait!” I called to him, for he was several paces ahead of me. “I must rest.” I sat down on a rock and sent waves of healing magic through my legs. The wound that was cauterized back in Cheydinhal still burned and shot pain up my leg, and my other leg was not used to this much action.

“Very well,” Darkasha said, “We shall rest for a short while, but we must keep moving. It is the only way to regain use of your leg, and we must make better time than this.”

“Where are we going?” I asked as I stretched my legs slowly. “Bravil?”

“No, Leyawiin. And we must keep going from there.” He casually picked some dirt from his fur and flicked it away.

“Leyawiin?” I asked incredulously, “That’s easily a two day walk!” My legs ached even thinking about the journey.

“And we must get there before tomorrow morning.”

“What? There’s no way we can make that kind of time. Maybe if we hired some horses, but otherwise it’s impossible!”

“Well, I would suggest you start walking anyway, or else.” He said menacingly.

“Or else what?”

“Or else I will feast upon every drop of your blood.”

41: The Khajiit

2007-01-29T16:25:00.000-08:00

I leaned against one of the columns that encircled an area of the Arena district. The shouting and yells from inside had subsided, and night’s heavy blanket was slowly pulling the sun out of sight. Obviously, the walls of the city blocked my view of the sunset, but I could see the spectacular colors dancing in the clouds directly above me. I watched them for a short while, and then opened the book I had purchased at one of the local shops. It was simply bound and not all of the pages lined up, but the information inside was interesting enough. It was entitled Reflections upon the Summoning of Creatures. I used it to brush up on my theoretical Conjuration knowledge, and discovered that the book needed to be revised in order to keep up with the changing times. It still said fifty foot tall gates to Oblivion were impossible. After my recent experiences, I decided to take the knowledge within lightly.

It was dark when the Khajiit finally exited the Arena. I had been keeping an eye on the people coming and going in order to find out what was going on inside. He was wearing dark blue robes and moved gracefully, but also warily. I had planned on following him to wherever he was going, but I saw him casting the same green light I had seen before. Once again, the light drifted towards me and was absorbed by the ring in pocket. It illuminated me and I knew I wouldn’t be able to escape the Khajiit’s eyes. I shut the book and stowed it in my satchel. This was going to be a rocky meeting.

“So this is the one Jauffre has sent to me.” He spoke with an accent so heavy it was hard to decipher. “Interesting. Normally I would not take on a student so…” He looked me over, “Frail. But it is of no matter. I shall teach, and you shall learn.”

“What are you talking about?” I said. Obviously I had missed something. Train? I wouldn’t train with this monstrosity for anything in the world. “I have no intention of learning anything from you. I’m perfectly happy with my current capabilities and…”

“I can make you walk again.” He interjected quite forcefully, and I was surprised he knew about my disability. I was taken aback, and had lost any verbal momentum I had once had. “It is difficult to move, isn’t it? The absence of toes is quite… debilitating.” He smiled devilishly. He even knew the source of my disability. “I can help you to walk, even run again.”

“Why…” I floundered, frustrated at the creature’s preparation for this, or at least at my own lack of preparation. “Why should I believe you can help me?”

“Because I know what it is like to be missing a few body parts.” He stuck a furry hand out and showed me that he was missing several fingers, and then he showed me his foot, which was also missing all of its toes. “My battles in the Arena and elsewhere have taken their toll upon my body. But I am still capable of walking and running.” My mind flashed back to the slaughter in the pit of the Arena. More than capable, I would say.

My mind struggled with the decision. One half of me told me to run away from this murderous creature and hope I wouldn’t get my throat ripped out. The other half begged me to accept, so that once again my movement would be free. A third and fourth half was silent, quietly colliding luminous shards of thought within the depths of the staff. I reached a decision after a moment’s pause.

“Very well,” I said finally, “I will learn from you, but don’t think I will be happy about anything other than my own restored mobility.”

The Khajiit smiled, revealing glistening teeth that were not meant for anything less than tearing flesh. “Excellent, meet me here tomorrow morning and we will begin. By the way, my name is Darkasha.” With that, his faded from sight and I heard soft footsteps running off into the night.

“Be careful, Will” The cold voice of the Dark One said. “This creature is dangerous.”

“Thanks,” I thought sarcastically, “I hadn’t noticed.”

“No, you don’t understand. It’s more than just the incident in the Arena…”

“What then?” I asked, curious now.

“It was difficult to see at first, and I still am not sure…”

“What?”

“Surely you can guess… The glistening fangs, the dark robe… The only exiting the building at night?”

Realization began to dawn on me.

The voice in my mind chilled me when it spoke, “Darkasha is a vampire.”

40: Horrors of the Arena

2007-01-23T14:30:00.000-08:00

I awoke before dawn, and the few streaks of light that illuminated the clouds in the sky were barely enough to see by, but I wanted to be fully awake when I approached the ruins. A small breakfast was all I could bear to eat partly because of the shooting pains in my leg. It kept me from moving around too much, but I stood and surveyed the ruins. It was mostly a shadow in the darkness, but I could make out the general shape and size of it.

The sun finally rose enough to illuminate the area, and I could see some humanoid figures beginning to move around, though whether they were my “friend” or something more dangerous I could not tell. I edged closer towards the shapes and saw that they were not who I was looking for. Their sickly green skin and sloping shoulders revealed their inhuman nature, and it wasn’t hard to hear their guttural language from a fair distance away.

Goblins have a tendency to hang around caves and ruins, so it wasn’t entirely surprising to see them here. Nevertheless, I was a bit aggravated. If they had killed my “friend” I would be in a difficult spot. I snuck a bit closer and summoned a scamp to deal with the emaciated brutes, and soon I was walking freely about the outside of the ruins. There was no sign of anyone, and the sun was blazing its way towards it apogee. I sighed and sat down in some tall grass near the rotten door leading into the depths of the ruins. I pulled the ring from the depths of my robes and examined it. There was nothing very special about it, other than the little sphere of glass that protruded from its center. I spun it around in my hands for a while and even put it on a few times, but nothing happened.

“Hey,” I sent a message deep into the Dark One’s mind, “What do you make of this ring?” He was quiet for a moment, and then the staff glowed gently.

“As far as I can tell, it is completely normal,” his mind mused quietly, “There is no magical radiation emanating from it, and it isn’t of any special value.” He paused, but I could tell he was thinking deeply by the colors of the staff.

“What if,” I began cautiously as the idea formed in my mind, “the ring only works in certain areas or that it reveals only one specific thing?”

“Perhaps… that would be very hard to detect.” I could tell it wasn’t something he had thought of, and I smiled. I then slipped the ring onto my finger and started looking around. I saw absolutely nothing, but then I stood up and began to search more thoroughly. I found nothing on the outside of the ruins, and began to doubt my hypothesis. Reluctantly, I decided to enter the ruins and see what I could find inside. As I approached the door, however, it glowed faintly. I held the ring closer to the door, and the glow focused and concentrated into a string of words.

The Arena beckons. It read, we shall meet there in four hours. Wear the ring. I wondered whether this message could be old, but then the four hours changed to three hours and fifty-nine minutes. I immediately set off for the Imperial city. I didn’t want to walk all the way around to the bridge to the city, as that would take far too long, and I might be late. Instead, I decided to cross the river at a shallow spot near the ruins. I kept out of the water as best as I could, trying to hop from stone to stone across. A few slaughterfish eyed me hungrily from their watery home, and I didn’t feel like getting my feet wet or nibbled on. I made it across unharmed and unmoistened, and climbed the steep hill towards the Imperial City. The closest entrance was via the bridge from the Imperial Prison, and when I reached the huge walls of the prison I was reminded of my recent incarceration there. I put up my hood and avoided the prying eyes of the guards, just in case they might try to drag me back to that dank cell, even though I had in some ways been pardoned by the late Emperor.

The bridge connected directly to the market district, and I was soon surrounded by a large group of people frantically trying to get the best prices in the city. Obviously now was not the time to shop. Strangely, the shoppers were mostly concentrated around a single shop in the district, something called “The Copious Coinpurse.” I thought little of this, and instead pushed through the crowd towards the center of the city. Green Emperor Way was beautiful and quiet. Whether the stillness was for the many graves that ringed the area, or whether it was for the Imperial Palace. A guard in ceremonial armor passed by and told me to be respectful. I nodded and proceeded towards the Arena District. I still had a few hours before I was to meet… whoever it was that had left me the message, but I decided I could find out what this whole Arena thing was about.

The Arena District was in stark contrast to the Emperor’s way. The giant coliseum dominated the center of the district, and from it I could hear screams of combat and collective cheers from the audience. I pushed past the group of people clamoring to bet on fights and into the coliseum itself. I found my way to a balcony overlooking the sandy pit where the fights took place. A group of people were still down in the pit cleaning up after the last fight, although I use “cleaning” lightly. They were simply raking the sand and pouring more sand over the bloody stains. A few were scrubbing the metal grate in the center of the pit with what looked like hunks of sandstone attached to thick broom handles. I took a seat and awaited the next fight.

Eventually, the cleaners ran out of the pit and a booming voice filled the Arena. “Welcome,” it said, “to the ARENA!” A collective yell rose up from the crowd. The announcer waited for them to quiet down before continuing: “We have a special treat for you today! From the blue team: Three grizzled combatants, each skilled in their own art of combat.” The announcer let the chants of “BLUE! BLUE! BLUE!” die out before announcing the yellow team’s gladiator. “From the Yellow team, we have an up and coming Gladiator. He has specifically requested this 3 versus 1 battle, but how will he survive? We shall see! LOWER THE GATES!” The steel bars dropped away from where the gladiators were standing. Immediately a blast of lighting shot towards the Yellow team Khajiit. He dodged nimbly and ran towards the Blue team. He ran so fast that sand shot into the air behind him. One of the Blue team members (A Nord who was obviously skilled in close quarters combat) let out a battle cry, raised his massive sword and charged. The Khajiit literally launched himself at the Nord, catching him off guard and knocking the massive warrior to the ground. The Khajiit cut his prey’s throat in one swift movement and jumped away towards the other two combatants, who had spread out and were attacking from a distance, one with magic and the other with a bow. The Yellow gladiator dodged both attacks with lighting fast movements, and was soon upon the archer. This time the maddened Khajiit ripped the throat out of his victim with his teeth. There was a shocked gasp and then a cheer from the crowd as the Khajiit flipped away from the gurgling woman. The final Blue team member screamed and began backing away while lightning crackled from his fingertips. The Khajiit advanced much more slowly this time, toying with his prey. It was almost sickening to watch. He flipped and rolled away from the frantic blasts of lightning that arced from the Blue mage’s fingers. Eventually the bursts became feeble, and then stopped. The mage had run out of magicka! The Khajiit grinned horribly and sheathed his blade. He flipped out his retractable claws and advanced toward the doomed mage. The screams were silenced quickly, as the razor sharp claws ripped through the man’s throat. There was a delay, and then the crowd began cheering louder than ever. I looked around at all the cheering people, sickened at their barbaric behavior.

The Khajiit returned to the twitching body of the Nord man whose throat he had slit and made a complicated gesture over him. A red glow washed over the Nord and he jerked. I recognized the spell effects. The Khajiit had sucked the last bits of life out of the body and restored himself. He then walked into the middle of the arena and sent a blast of green energy into the air, which I recognized from the door of the ruins. I held the ring out towards the cloud of energy and it was sucked into the globe of glass. It glowed faintly, and then faded. I looked down at the Khajiit, who was staring at me and grinning. No one else seemed to have noticed anything unusual, but I pocketed the ring and slipped out of the coliseum, disgusted at the whole affair. I didn’t know what was worse, to see that horrible spectacle, or to have to meet the creature who had caused it…

39: Bandits

2007-01-06T16:17:00.000-08:00

The sun was nearing the horizon as I set out from the gate. I took comfort from the peaceful breeze that rustled the trees and made the birds sing. I drew my robe closer around me and put up its rather thin hood, trying to keep out some of the chill that was beginning to enter the air. Night was looming over the mountains, and I wondered if I should have waited until morning to depart. It wasn’t until later that I realized how feeble I must have looked, hunched up and hobbling along, and how much of an easy target for bandits I was. The first arrow hissed towards me from behind, it was about to puncture the back of my neck…

Roll! The idea screamed through every fiber of my mind and body, forcibly bending me down onto my knees and onto the stony road. It wasn’t so much a roll as it was a collapse, and my body slammed onto the road. Lay Still… The two words shuddered in every fiber of my being, holding me down to the rocks and straining every one of my muscles. I heard a cry of triumph come from the archer who had attacked me, and some rustling in the bushes that concealed him. I heard him… THEM come closer to my fallen form. I struggled to break free from the invisible hand that held my body motionless, but to no avail. Wait… the words held me down, and I waited. The boots crunched closer, yet the icy voice in my muscles and bones still said Wait… My mind screamed with fury. The boots stopped mid-step, and I heard a confused voice go “What?”

Now! The ice released me.

I spun up from the ground, releasing my aggression in one smooth swing of the Dark Staff. The end connected with the startled bandit’s face, and I swear I saw the staff sprout spikes just before it hit. He spun and collapsed. I turned to face the other bandit, who was a Redguard woman wearing thick plate mail. She snarled and pulled a large sword from where it hung at her waist. I smiled viciously at her and concentrated on a spell. Streaks of flame lanced out from the staff towards her. She leapt away from them, but they followed her enough to burn through a portion of her armor on her leg. She screamed and dropped her sword, and I was just about to deliver a finishing blow when she was back on her feet, sword in hand. Damn she was quick. I swung the staff at her leg but she parried and retaliated. I blocked the blow with the back portion of the staff, narrowly avoiding death. She snarled and spit on me, hitting me square in the eye. My eye burned, and I fell backward over the body of the other bandit. I tried to jump up, but I forgot that my toes were missing, and fell back down again. Luckily, the Redguard had planned on me having toes, and as such her sword swung several inches too high. She lost her balance slightly, and I took the opportunity to swing the staff at her burned leg. The sickly crunch and scream revealed that my attack had been successful. She crumpled to the ground and whimpered. I stood over her, clearing my eye of the acidic saliva. She continued to whimper at her pain, clutching her burned, broken limb in her hands. Pity overtook me. I started to walk away from the scene, when a scream of rage shook me. I spun around and raised the staff to block. A sword clanged onto the metal of the staff, almost knocking me backwards. She had healed herself! She was weakened though, and as I swung the staff around she couldn’t move in time. The staff smashed her skull and killed her instantly. I sighed and knelt to clean the blood and… brains off of the staff. I was further disgusted to see the staff sucking them up. The Dark One laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not eating them. Just… disposing of it in an unusual manner. Believe me; it will stink less this way.” I grimaced and went through the bandits’ pockets.

I found a fair amount of coin, and the healing potions would make a nice addition to my current stock. I could have salvaged some of the armor from the bodies, but I decided it wouldn’t be worth either the chore of stripping the bodies or the added weight I would have to carry. I dragged the bodies away from the road a ways. Nature would clean up the rest.

The road sloped gently towards the Imperial City, I hobbled briskly along, gripping the warm metal of the staff to keep my hands from the chill. The sun set, but I continued on my way. It hadn’t seemed this long to the Circle road before. Eventually I could see the twin moons’ light glistening on the waters of Lake Rumare, with the white walls of the city beyond. I smiled and began looking around for the ruins of a fort. It took about ten seconds.

The crumbling walls were still quite tall, and I couldn’t see if anyone was moving about in the ruins. I decided to wait until morning to approach the ruins, because the darkness always holds surprises. Ruins especially hold surprises, and not the kind that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside (unless by “warm and fuzzy” you mean “Adrenaline rushing through every inch of your body because a flaming sphere has just been thrown at you when you stepped on that little tiny square on the floor”). It can wait ‘til daylight.

38: Espionage

2006-12-23T07:51:00.000-08:00

“Curious…” Green shards of light collided within the staff. “You are telling me that you saw a creature nestled in the loaf of bread.”

I was sitting on the edge of the bed given to me in the guild hall basement. My little episode had been mulled over by the Dark One, and he was beginning to connect things. “Yes,” I thought through the barrier between our minds, “it was really disgusting looking. Tentacled and such.” I was still shaken up by the whole ordeal, and my hands reflected this. They were literally quivering.

“The only rational conclusion I can come to is that you had a negative reaction to the influx of energy from the tear.” His thoughts were calm; he was confident in his diagnosis. “Time will tell if these hallucinations are reoccurring or simply a fluke.” I gripped the cool metal of the staff and pulled myself to my feet.

“Any idea when the next surge will hit?” The streets beckoned, so I decided to walk while I thought. The cool mountain air ruffled my hair and lifted my spirits. “Dark One?” I prodded the extremities of his mind. It was buzzing with activity. The staff reflected his state of concentration, as a rather fascinating light show occurred across the surface of the metal.

“Hmm, yes. I worked it out to the best of my abilities. If I am correct, they should occur approximately every 2 days from now on. Aftershocks from the initial burst could come at any time though.” The staff returned to its natural shade of black. “Not to worry though. I can handle it.” Pride seeped through the barrier between minds. I sighed and continued my labored hobbling through the streets.

It is my belief that the wound would not have been so crippling if it wasn’t for its magical origin. Obviously I would have been healed through magic if it wasn’t for that horrible tear in reality that was attached to my foot. What’s more, the excruciating pain that shot through my leg would not be so persistent.

“Gah!” A spear of hot pain pierced my leg. “By the nines!” I ground the staff into the ground with my weight. I lost balance and tumbled into the grass. After the rough landing, I sent a mild healing spell into the trouble area. Relief was instant, but a dull ache remained. A few sips from a restorative potion and I was back on my feet. However, I decided to cut my walk short and return to the guild hall. As I struggled back towards the hall, a well dressed Khajiit approached me.

“Do you require help?” The Khajiit offered a paw to me. I was taken aback by his accent. It was unlike any Khajiit I had heard before. He spoke more like an Imperial than a Khajiit. Nevertheless, I took his support and he helped me a short ways before he spoke again. “Jauffre sends his regards.” His voice was barely audible, and his lips didn’t move at all. “Take this,” a package was slipped into the sleeve of my robe. I played along naturally, forming my hand into a fist to keep the package from slipping out. “Good luck,” he whispered and opened the door to the guild hall for me. I stumbled in and shut the door behind me.

Soon I was in the relative privacy of a chair tucked into the corner of a hallway just off of the entryway. I leaned the staff against the wall and checked to see if anyone was watching me. Confident in my privacy, I opened the package carefully.

“No doubt it is some rubbish about fetching a sacred chamber pot or some-such nonsense.” The sarcastic voice pierced my mind and I flinched. I had almost forgotten the Dark One was still there in my mind; his relative silence had been enjoyable… while it lasted. I emptied the contents of the package onto my lap. A short note and a curious looking ring fell out. The ring yielded no clues to its function after closer examination, so I turned to the note. It was similarly cryptic, but still easily decipherable.

“Will,

Cheydinhal harbors many anti-adventurer sentiments. The road west away from it is therefore the safest option. You will want to prepare in case you need to take a longer trip than expected. Should you be weary from the trip, the old ruins near the lake will provide suitable refuge. Other travelers there may appreciate the enclosed ring. Do not be afraid to flaunt its beauty to them.

J. Frey”

“Quite the code those wily Blades have developed.” The Dark One sniggered. “Still, it’s an improvement.” I pocketed the note and ring, checked the envelope over once more, and then burnt it to ash. Never can be too careful, especially if what Jauffre said was true and Cheydinhal was too friendly with the Empire.

Packing was the next order of business. I stood and gritted my teeth at the pain. I made my way to my room and began to place things into my pack. I then converted it into a more accessible satchel pack that hung at my waist instead of my back. It made running more difficult, but in my current condition I wouldn’t be able to run anyway. The trip would take an undetermined amount of time, so I just packed as much as I reasonably could. I left my mace behind, as I thought it would be too unwieldy in combination with the staff. Deetsan came in at some point.

“Leaving so soon?” The gruff voice received no answer for a while, mostly due to the barrage of insults that were being fed to my mind courtesy of the Dark One. Once I could hear myself think again I turned to face her.

“Unfortunately, yes. I’ll be back though, but I do not know when exactly.”

“The last thing that wound needs is travel. Nevertheless, I won’t stop you. Just be careful, this guild hall has already lost two members recently. We certainly don’t need a third to go missing.” My mind was drawn back to the unfortunate soul trapped within the well and the sudden departure of our previous leader. The latter did not phase me much, but the poor associate’s death was unfortunate.

I said goodbye and headed for the gates. I am not looking forward to this espionage, but that is the way it goes. Adjusting the strap of my satchel, I stepped onto the road, once again taking me away from Cheydinhal to the unknown

AHHHH!

2006-12-18T17:01:00.000-08:00

God damnit, im sorry guys

december has apparently been the month of problems for me, what with illnesses out the wazzoo and homework, practice, computer problems, internet problems, etc., etc., etc.!

apologies once again. (but i should point out that i have no obligation to write this... not particualarly motivating, eh? nevertheless, i dont want any riots or to displease my fans, so...)

not to worry though, i fully intend to be back on my literary feet just as soon as i finish posting this comment

anywho, cheerio!

37: Tendrils

2006-10-28T10:59:00.000-07:00

“No! Totally wrong!” Angry red lines shot over the surface of the staff as the Dark One’s thoughts berated my mind. “Focus on the target itself. Ignore the casting; you know how it’s done, just do it!”

I gritted my teeth and focused once more on the new spell the Dark One was teaching me. It was a much more powerful version of the fireball spell I already knew. I was testing it on the target in the basement that was enchanted to absorb spells, but the target was starting to get a little bit charred under the inferno the spell created. I concentrated hard on every minute detail of the target. I could see every variation in the grain of the wood, and I could sense the faint magical disturbance caused by the absorb spell. I breathed in and let the energy surge to my hand. I released the spell at the target, letting it find its own way.

A rush of heat washed over me and I heard loud popping and sizzling. As the heat subsided, I saw the impressive aftereffects. What was left of the target collapsed to the ground as its chains melted, and the paint on the wall behind it had cracked beyond belief.

“Whoa.” A rush of adrenaline pumped through me, and suddenly the world seemed like one big joke. I broke out laughing and looked at what my hands had done. The Dark Staff buzzed angrily and colors sprouted across its surface. His voice returned quietly to my mind.

“It will do for now. But you still have much to learn.” The staff calmed down, but I could tell he wasn’t pleased with my efforts. I took the staff from where it was leaning against the wall, and proceeded up to the main floor. As I was moving across the room, the staff began to glow bright blue. I looked around to see if anyone else noticed, but none of them seemed to care that the once ordinary, black staff was now emanating a powerful glow, as well as a magical field. I moved into a secluded corner of one of the side rooms, hoping not to draw attention to myself. The glow started to subside, and as it did I could feel myself being energized with magicka.

“What was that?” I sent my thought in the direction of the Dark One, but I could feel his massive amount of concentration, even through the boundaries he had put up between us. The glow faded away completely, and was replaced by the regular swirls of light deep within the staff. “Dark One? What was that?”

“The tear let loose another wave of energy. I wasn’t expecting it, so I had to catch up. That may be the way it will be, due to the unpredictability of the waves.” It sounded as if he was exhausted, but as he went on I could tell that he was recovering very quickly.

“Anything I can do to help?” I was a bit worried by the fact that he had been caught off guard.

“No, but don’t worry. I will be able to handle anything thrown our way.”

I nodded and stood up. Hunger was clawing at my stomach, so I went up to the dining area to see what I could find. I picked up a small loaf of bread and tore off a bit. I popped it in my mouth and chewed for a little while, before I realized that the loaf of bread was unusually heavy. I looked at it, and my eyes grew wide. Nestled in the loaf of bread was a thing which could only be called an abomination! It awoke and looked at me with thousands of miniature eyes. I stood frozen to the spot, and as it unfurled its tendrils and reached for my soft, unprotected skin, I began to scream…

“STOP IT!” A wave of thoughts burst through from the Dark One. “Let it go!” I released the loaf of bread before the tentacles closed around me. The Thing hit the ground and disappeared. I fell back into a chair. My mind was racing, although it was more because of the Dark One’s thoughts. “What is wrong with you? Terror was rushing through you, but there was nothing wrong!”

This puzzled me. Surely the Dark One would have seen, or at least sensed that thing! It was there, nestled in the bread like a swallow in its nest! I had seen it! Hadn’t I?

“There was nothing in the bread, Will…” Concerned tones were easily detected in The Dark One’s thoughts.

“I… I swear I saw…” I shuddered and felt my forehead. Could this be some sort of Fever dream? Or perhaps, was it something far more sinister?

36: Chorus of Thought

2006-10-27T09:53:00.000-07:00

“So let me clarify… We establish a sort of symbiotic relationship with each other, and this in turn allows us both to stay alive?” I wasn’t speaking now, but my thoughts were picked up by the Dark One.

“Quite so.” The staff vibrated gently with his thoughts.

“So what will you contribute to me, besides keeping me safe from the tear?” A thought popped up in my head then, but it disturbed me, so I suppressed it.

“Advice, mostly… I can teach you in many arcane arts as well. And you know what they say, two heads are better than one.” The surface of the staff sparkled blue with every word he said, although I don’t know if it was just a light show for me or not. Once more the dark thought appeared in my head. I sighed and addressed it.

“So what’s stopping you from killing me?” Red lines of thought darted furiously about the staff. Obviously he was seriously considering the option.

“Hmm… Well, it’s quite simple. Number one, if you die, the tear will become stationary and I would be restricted to staying nearby for my own sake. If some enterprising adventurer should find me and think me a pretty little trinket, I would be powerless to stay near the tear, and so I would die. Number two, I simply don’t have the energy to do that… at this time.” The red lines coalesced into a soothing pulse of blue light.

“Well, that’s a relief.” I thought for a moment. “So how durable exactly is this staff you are in?”

He chuckled. “How durable is the wind?”

I thought for a second, and then proceeded with my well thought out answer: “Uh…”

A rainbow of colors fanned out across the obsidian surface. Suddenly the staff began to melt in my hands. I panicked and tried to pool the black goop in my hands. As the staff completely melted away, a new staff (identical to the first) rose from the pool and solidified in my hands. The voice in my mind took a bow. It was quite unusual for a sound to do that…

“Thank you, thank you.” The Dark One laughed at his own antics. “You see, I am not constrained to all physical boundaries. Just as the wind can shift and change, so too can I adjust my shape. Unfortunately, it is a temporary thing, as I must return to this shape quickly.”

“Fabulous.” I started thinking about where I was going to go, what I was going to do, and how I was going to do it. Already my mind had tired of this stagnation.

“Orders from the Blades should be arriving soon, I would think.” The Dark One had apparently been eavesdropping on my thoughts. “It isn’t eavesdropping!” Indignation resonated in his voice. “You’re practically yelling it through your mind!”

“So my thoughts are like a book that someone left open?” I pondered this. I probed into the recent coolness in my mind, attempting to read his thoughts in the same way. I broke through quite easily, but his mind was such a tangled web of information that I could only catch little snippets of thought. I pulled away from it, and then continued my thoughts of the future.

He was right; orders from Jauffre would probably be arriving here soon. In fact, the orders could have arrived during the period I was in the sphere universe, or while I was recovering. I stood up, staff in hand, and made my way down to the common area. Deetsan was out at the time, and so I would have to wait to see if anything had come for me.

Until her return, I will practice with my new handicap, as well as brushing up on my magical talents. Should be interesting to see what the Dark One thinks of my abilities.

35: Dark Staff

2006-10-23T16:43:00.000-07:00

I read on worriedly. It went through some technical jargon, and though it was incredibly complex, I was able to decipher that the waves of magical energy would theoretically increase exponentially until they were powerful enough to mend the hole in space, ripping me apart in the process. I shuddered and finished the passage. It mentioned no solution to such a hole in space, as none had ever been witnessed on Tamriel before. I closed the book and sighed.

“I’m in trouble.” I threw the book to the ground and moaned. I stood and started to pace. I was in a very difficult position, compounded by the fact that my pacing was suffering from my inability to walk. Deetsan came in and saw me struggling with learning to walk again. She smiled and approached me.

“Having some trouble I see. Maybe this will help.” She pulled a tall, pitch black staff from behind her back and held it out to me. I pulled it towards me and gripped it. It was made out of a cool, light metal that warmed to my touch. I leaned on it gratefully, finding it much to my liking. I thanked Deetsan and she left quietly. I felt no magical presence within the staff, though something was familiar about it. Like it was an old friend.

I moved much easier with the staff supporting me, and I continued to pace. My mind did seem less troubled now, without having to concentrate on walking. In fact, a cool lightness had entered my mind. I smiled and sat down to inspect my new helper.

“Light, aren’t I?” I jumped when I felt the voice in my mind. It chuckled and continued. “Thought you could be rid of me forever, didn’t you?” The Dark One’s voice filled my mind, piercing and inescapable. I shuddered and stared at the staff. It glowed with runes momentarily and continued. “Yes, I am the staff now. See what you have done to me? You have shattered my connection with reality. Now I only exist as a shadow of what I was.”

“Uhh…” This was about the strangest thing I had ever experienced. In fact, I wondered if I might be going crazy.

“No, fool. It isn’t insanity. It is the nature of my talents that has created this situation. Now listen, by destroying my network of sphere universes, you ripped me apart. However, the resulting energy reversed my existence from physical into purely metaphysical. Fortunately for both of us, I was able to retain enough of my physical form to imbue myself into this staff. Still, my physical form was weak, and I could not maintain myself for long. So I persuaded your dear Guild Head into giving me to you as a gift.”

“And what’s to stop me from simply throwing you out?”

“Because we need each other. Your poor little toes are now part of a tear in space. Surely you’ve figured that out by now. From it will emanate waves of magic that will rip you apart. I am fading away, slowly but surely, and only magical energy can sustain me. So you see, we complete each other. You create the energy, I stop it from destroying you, and you in turn stop me from fading away into nothingness. So, we need each other.”

The staff hummed in my hands, energy skimming across its obsidian surface. I contemplated my position. The injury I had received was equally as unpleasant for the Dark One. We truly were opposites, but we needed each other for the sake of survival. I examined the humming surface one last time, breathed deeply, and made the only decision I could.

“Okay, I guess I have no choice.”

“Well, that is certainly a relief to me. I must explain to you the conditions. I can suppress the magical bursts to a certain extent, but you may still experience influxes of it. I don’t think you will mind once you learn to predict and control them. From each wave I shall draw a certain percent of the energy, and a further percent will be spent to repair the tear. Slowly, but surely, we shall repair the hole, and then go our separate ways.”

“How long will that take?”

“Difficult to say, but, depending on the size of the tear, anywhere from two weeks… to two centuries.”

“Ah.”

34: Miscast

2006-10-16T19:14:00.000-07:00

I immediately reached for my foot upon awakening. I pulled it to a place where I could survey the damage and make an assessment. It didn’t look good, but it wasn’t hurting that bad. I instinctively tried to wiggle my toes and winced. The area where my toes once were was scarred and ugly, but it wasn’t anywhere near as gruesome as it had been. I felt a strange pain in my foot, it was quite unreal. It felt as if I had stubbed my toe, and it wasn’t especially pleasant, but the weirdest thing was it originated from where my toes used to be. I had heard of the so called “phantom pains” that some amputees experience, but never felt them before. It was quite odd.

A soothing spell calmed the pains and I attempted to stand up. I put all my weight on my good foot, yet I almost fell over when I tried to take a step with my toeless foot. “Whoa!” I exclaimed as I caught myself, “This is going to take some getting used to.” I practiced walking around without my toes for quite some time, never quite getting the hang of it. I was starving, so I pulled myself downstairs to see what I could mange to scrounge up.

I was greeted by a dozen smiling faces, all sitting at the main dining table. I greeted them all as they made room for me at the table. I plopped down into the chair and reached out for what I could get. Without realizing, I used my telekinesis spell to bring a platter of toast to me when I put it back in its original spot I recognized what I had done and chuckled. They all talked quietly around me, and though I was not questioned I knew they were curious about how I had lost five toes. I gorged myself on the glorious food, but as I began to slow down I started chatting with my fellow diners. They skirted the issue, and I was glad, as I wasn’t quite ready to tell everyone at once. Every once in a while I had to heal my pain and the people I was talking to would draw breath sharply.

One particularly interesting plate of sausages on the far end of the table drew my interest, and I let my telekinesis spell into it, aiming to draw its deliciousness to me. Curiously, the plate had a larger magical profile to it than I would have expected, but I dismissed it as being part of the wondrous meatyness. However, when I attempted to lift the plate, half of the plates on the table were thrown several feet in the air, and their contents were thrown everywhere. I jumped a bit, and so did half of the people at the table. The room went to a somewhat stunned silence, and I looked ashamedly around. I began cleaning up the area with my hands, so as to avoid another mishap with the spell. I stood up and bent over to pick up the food on the floor, but I felt a hand on my shoulder and the others all cleaned everything up. I sat down, pondering what had gone wrong.

It wasn’t like any other failed spell I had cast. Generally when a spell is miscast it simply fizzles out. This time it was amplified to an extreme magnitude. In fact, telekinesis is specifically designed to effect only one object. My miscast had affected probably close to twenty objects! I was a bit confused by this, and I resolved to read up on miscasting spells. I finished my food and began to puzzle over the curious miscast. After a while I noticed everyone was staring at me, and I looked around nervously.

“What?” I asked anxiously, I’d had my fill of surprises the last few days.

“You, uh…” A Breton said, “You have a sausage on your head.”

Everyone burst out laughing, even me. I swiped the sausage from my head and threw it at the Breton. I then mocked being indignant, and refused to talk to anyone. We all had a good laugh, but then I excused myself to read up on miscasting spells. I hobbled back upstairs to look through the small library there.

I spent the rest of the day reading, though I found little about miscasting. Mostly it was just consolatory words about how it happens to everyone and “Just keep practicing!” nowhere did I find mentions of anything like my mishap. I then began pondering about magical fields and their effect on spells. Perhaps a strong influx of Magicka had influenced my spell. I checked through the books I had available, but none of them mentioned magical fields, save one. It mentioned that magical fields are generally only seen after strong spells have been cast, or around powerful objects. Also, it made mention of the stars, and how they are simply holes in space through which magicka flows. “Likewise, tears in space can be found much closer to us all, as those who are not careful with truly powerful magic can create such holes, though on a much smaller scale.” I read, on deeply interested. “Such holes can release waves of magical energy, but are often invisible to the unaided eye. Be wary, as these holes could be considered extremely dangerous.” I glanced down at my toes, and a wave of terror ripped through me.

33: Diamonds

2006-10-11T18:57:00.000-07:00

My dreams were dark and troubling, but fascinating all the same. Visions of the sphere universe clouded my mind, and as I watched I saw it split and multiply. The Dark One appeared and pulled at the spheres, molding and shaping them into large, multifaceted diamonds. From these diamonds he drew energy, and as he poked and prodded at them green light flew from his fingertips. It was the same green light he had used on me, and the diamonds screamed with insane laughter. The Dark One laughed himself, and continued his vile business.

Then a new diamond appeared, yet it remained spherical. He poked and prodded at it, and from it he drew more of the energy. He chuckled and dove into it. The sphere began to resolve itself into facets, but when he returned from his business they began to break down. The sphere shimmered and destabilized as a scream of true pain came from it, and from it a bolt of red energy struck out towards the Dark One. He attempted to sever his connection, but the red light struck him and he screamed in agony. From this the red energy spread to the other diamonds, destabilizing and shattering them in turn. He screamed as he was enveloped in the light, and yet he worked frantically to put control over his failing efforts. Soon the red light became overpowering, and the ground he was standing on broke apart. The Dark One fell into the cracks and disappeared. With his death the energy dissipated, and my dream ended.

I awoke painfully, aware of the dull ache in my body. I automatically went to get out of the bed, but when I put weight on my left foot I screamed and collapsed. Suddenly I remembered what I had done to myself. I sent a small burst of healing magic through my leg, but it had no effect on my pain. I writhed on the ground for several minutes before I was able to gain control of myself. Deetsan came to my aid with a powerful restorative potion. I thanked her and felt my pain subside slightly. I pulled myself back onto the bed and moaned. I looked at foot, but it was so tightly wrapped in bandages I couldn’t make anything out. With nothing better to do, I looked at the bottle of the potion Deetsan had given me. I was a bit shocked at the label. It was the most powerful restorative they had on stock at the Guild. The only thing more powerful had to be ordered directly from the Arcane University, and even then it took quite a long time to procure. A curious thing I noted was that the potion had some powder of diamond in it as a catalyst. My dream immediately came to mind, but I dismissed it as coincidence. Suddenly I realized that my foot was wrapped in bandages. I had seen it before, but not understood the implications. Bandages are almost never used, thanks to the powerful healing spells available today. Only in the direst of circumstances are bandages and magic used in tandem. I was a bit shocked by this, as I didn’t think my toes could be damaged beyond repair. I had only cut them off with a semi-sharp disc. Those wounds ought to have been easily closed via magic. This worried me, but my inquiry was forced to wait, as Deetsan had to go mix another potion for me.

In the mean time, I attempted to heal myself with some of my own spells. Oddly enough, the pain in my toes increased instead of diminishing. I winced as the pain blossomed, and I grabbed at my leg as the pain began to subside. Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore, and I reached for my foot to unwrap it.

The bandages were still warm and sticky from blood, and they were difficult to pull apart without causing myself pain. When I had unraveled my foot, I found myself staring at the most disgusting thing I had every seen. The stump at the end of my foot had no toes on it whatsoever, and the bones protruding from the open wound were caked with blood. As I watched, my foot gushed a little bit of blood and I winced. I could see the effect of my heartbeat as I sat, entranced by the horrid scene before me. I snapped out of my daze and carefully sent a healing spell into it. To my horror, the magic from my spell was simply sucked away by a cloud of the Dark One’s mist. Through some strange phenomenon, the mist had fused itself with my body, and my toes were refusing to heal due to it. I looked at the bottle Deetsan had given me, and realized that the main effect was as a painkiller. For some reason, the mist was not sucking that up.

I took another look at my foot and gagged. I then flicked a magical flame between my fingers and held it near to my foot. The mist immediately reached out and stole away the energy powering the flame. I then proceeded through all the most basic of elemental and pure magical spells I could, and each one was sucked up by the mist. I grumbled and tested a few of the spells on other parts of my body, but each performed the desired effect, not being absorbed by the mist. So obviously this was a localized effect. In fact, on closer experimentation, I realized it was only the area where my toes had been that was affected by the mist. I pondered over this information, worried about my outlook.

Deetsan came in with another potion, this one of her own creation. When she saw what I had been doing she became a little worried and asked me to cover up my wound “for the sake of my stomach.” She administered the potion, and I felt the same painkilling effect as before. I told her about my discovery and asked her about how the potion could work when the mist sucked all magic away. She replied that the painkiller worked directly on the brain, and not the foot. It answered my question, but didn’t solve my problem. I thought for a while, and then asked Deetsan to extinguish all the candles and draw the curtains. When she did so, I saw the shape of the glowing mist itself. It was perfectly in the shape of my missing toes.

I then asked for a lit torch. While she was gone, I attempted to outline the shape of the mist on a piece of paper I placed beneath my foot. Deetsan returned with the torch and I took it from her. The mist ate the flames as I brought them near the wound. I sighed and asked for a non-magical torch. Deetsan ran off and returned with another torch. I Held it near my foot and the flames were not touched by the mist. I held my breath and pushed the torch onto my wound. I screamed as the wound was cauterized, but I knew it had to be done. I extinguished the torch and flicked a magical flame near the wound. The flame flickered momentarily, but it stayed alight. I smiled and sent a healing spell down my leg. The painkilling effects happened immediately, and I sighed with relief. I collapsed backwards onto my pillow and fell asleep, my mind and body heavily fatigued.

I awoke and immediately checked my foot. Deetsan had been kind enough to clean the area and heal it as much as she could. I sent my own healing spell into it to alleviate the pain, and laid back to rest some more. Maybe later I will attempt to get up, but not now.

32: Pain

2006-10-09T18:27:00.000-07:00

The pain was what saved me really. Searing, blinding, horrible pain. My life is forever in its debt…

The mist that had engulfed me at the end of my encounter with the Dark One had become so thick that the sun itself had lost its potency. The bastard had trapped me in some sort of labyrinth, with moist, shapeless walls instead of solid stone. I felt my way blindly through the air, always being nowhere and everywhere at once. Whatever strange dimension he had trapped me in, it was impervious to my efforts. Soon after I was transported there, I felt my magicka reserves leeched away. I have felt magicka drain spells before, but this was nothing like that. The mist became charged with energy as I touched it, drawing it directly from my skin. I could not do much, and so I walked. Soon I felt that I was walking in circles, and so I scratched a mark in the dirt beneath me. I walked a ways and saw the exact same mark on the ground. I sighed and picked up a handful of dirt. I looked at it for a bit, and when I was satisfied it was normal dirt, I threw it directly away from me. I felt a spray of dirt hit the back of my neck. I screamed in frustration. I knew where I was now. Though I didn’t think it possible, I was trapped inside a reoccurring sphere universe. Essentially, I was restricted to a parcel of land about 4 meters in diameter. If I traveled outside of that area of land, I would simply be back on the other side of the sphere. Anywhere I went was mirrored backwards to where I began. I shuddered and collapsed from the overwhelming mix of weariness, anxiety and agony.

Then the laughter began; just a chuckle here or there, yet always outside of my sphere. When I moved to investigate, I remembered where I was trapped and gave up. I attempted to clear some of the fog with a vague wave of my hand, but it was impervious to my feeble efforts. Then everything began to glow green. Apparently the Dark One wanted to have some fun. Suddenly a bolt of green energy imploded on the ground in front of me. I jumped up and looked around, but there was only laughter again. Another bolt shot from behind me and grazed my side. A horrible feeling shot through my body, emanating from the blast. It spread to the rest of my body and I fell to the ground in a convulsive fit. It was overwhelming, but the closest feeling it could be compared to would be happiness. Raw, unchecked happiness tore through my body as another bolt of energy found its mark. I began laughing until I coughed up blood, and my body shook from the fit.

I moaned and rolled onto my back. The Dark One popped into existence a short distance away. He was holding a sphere of green light and I knew it was the horrible happiness. I reached feebly for my mace, and brandished it at him as menacingly as I could. He chuckled and my mace melted in my hands. The cool liquid ran off my hand and onto the ground, where it pooled and hardened.

“Welcome to your new cage. Quite nice isn’t it? I made it myself.” He spoke proudly and looked around at the dismal fog. He chuckled and kicked some dirt onto me.

“What the hell do you want from me?” I choked on the words, but they came out clearly enough. My head was still reeling from the happiness.

“Oh not much, the same things a botanist wants from his plants. The same things a child draws from his pet sparrow. The same feelings that a god draws from his worshippers.”

“You think yourself a god?” I wasn’t entirely surprised by this, but I didn’t like the implications.

“Hardly. Gods are beneath me, or they soon will be. Even the Gods are restricted to the few planes of existence they inhabit. No, I will be more; I will conquer hundreds of dimensions and bend them to my will!”

I almost chuckled at his egomaniacal monologue. Then I remembered where I was and realized I was in no position to mock him. He rambled on for several minutes (I think, it is difficult to tell the time when the only light you have is emanating from a silvery mist and a sphere of glowing green energy) but nothing meant much of it to me. When he realized I wasn’t listening he sent the energy at me and I screamed in delight.

When I had finished vomiting I moaned again. It was so unnatural, the happiness. I was vomiting blood and convulsing, yet I felt absolutely no pain, only horrible, wretched happiness. The Dark One chuckled and disappeared. I screamed at him, but there was no answer. I picked up the disc of metal that had been my mace until recently and examined it. The edges were quite sharp, and I cut my finger on it. It was like seeing the sun again. The pain was so natural and good. Obviously it hurt, but even pain can be a nice change of pace. The disc was quite slippery, and when I dropped it on my foot I realized how heavy it really was. I cursed myself for being such a klutz, but when the pain came through to my mind I saw a vision beyond the fog. I picked up the disc again and reluctantly dropped it on my foot again.

I screamed, but when the sun’s rays hit my eyes I realized the key to my escape. The vision of the outside world dissipated, but I smiled as I turned the disc to drop the sharp end of it on my toes. I readied myself, and this time I slammed the disc onto my toes with all my strength.

When I awoke from the daze, I was sitting on the same Mages’ Guild bed I woke up in after my first visit to Cheydinhal. I laughed and laid back. I continued laughing until someone came to see what was going on. Deetsan herself rushed to my side and started questioning me. The questions just flowed over me and I chuckled at them all. I was feeling very light headed when I answered them all with one word.

“Yes!” I giggled and fell back onto the pillow. Deetsan looked at me quizzically and sighed.

“Well,” the Argonian grumbled, “You’ve lost a lot of blood, and it is a shame about those toes, but you’ll live. You’re safe now.”

Im still here guys! Really i am!

2006-10-02T18:46:00.000-07:00

Ok ok ok. I realize that there has been a severe deficiency in Bethesda-oriented Fan Fiction. All im asking for is a bit of patience. I don't know if any of you guys have ever tried doing this, but its hard. Mind boggling in fact. So extremely taxing on ones system that there are documented cases of people dieing at their computer screens, pushed beyond their breaking points.

All insanity aside, I would like to invite any of my readers (that are still here anyways) to join me in a little composition experiment. National Novel Writing Month is the name, 50000 word novel in one month is the game. It sounds insanely difficult, and I don't expect to finish it, but I think it will be a fantastic experience. It starts on November 1st, more details at www.nanowrimo.org.

After I've participated in NaNoWriMo, I PROMISE I will return to writing about Will's adventures. Cross my heart... Hope to die... Never spit in your mommy's eye... or something...

Failure on my Part

2006-09-11T15:42:00.000-07:00

How to say this... I'm lazy, overworked, and tired. Hence the lack of updates in the last few weeks. Anywho, I've written myself into a corner and am working on fixing it. Im hoping to get an update sometime this month... That's it, not much else to say.

31: Mistery

2006-08-15T07:56:00.000-07:00

I awoke. I lay with my eyes closed as I waited for sounds to drift to my ears. The sounds that made their way to me had a shimmering quality to them, like the sweet sounds of small bells. Curiously, I heard no sounds of life; just the strange shimmering whisper. I slowly opened my eyes and saw nothing. It wasn’t like looking at pure darkness, quite the opposite. I was staring at a shifting, grayish mass that floated over me. I drew in breath sharply, surprised to see such an oddity. However, as the air moved into my lungs, the shapeless blob above me shifted with it. I blew the air out of my lungs, watching the mass shift away from me with the air current. I reached up with my hand and poked it very carefully. It resisted for a millisecond, but gave way, and my finger plunged into the blob.

It was not unlike mist, but to call it mist would be a serious understatement. I pushed my other finger into it, this time submerging my entire hand in the mass. I pulled my hand back and examined it for any damage, but I was pleased to find that it was fine. I stood up into the mist, and as I began making my way around like a blind man, I found that the entire guild hall was filled with the mist. I began to assume that some experiment must have gone wrong, but the eerie silence made me worry for my fellow mages. I felt my way out into the cool outside, though I was not entirely sure if it was morning or night.

The mist hung heavy in the mountain air. I was not as familiar with the outside as I was with the interior of the mages guild, but I soon placed my hands on the smooth carved surface of some statue or another. I sat down on the ground with my back to the statue and just watched. The dim gray mist was impenetrable, and I found that my magic was useless. I started running through possible scenarios in my mind, but whatever caused this was beyond my comprehension. I sighed and leaned my head back, my eyes looking up the front of the statue.

At the top of the statue I saw something. I could just barely see it, a dark spot in the gray. I was about to call out to it when it started crawling down the statue at an impressive pace. It crawled more like a spider than a man, though it was obviously humanoid in shape. I froze, stuck to the spot at the base of the statue, unable to move or scream, only to stare at the thing. It moved so incredibly fast that it made it to the base of the statue in seconds, suddenly inches from my face and staring at me with huge, blood-red eyes.

“Curious, isn’t it?” The thing pushed away from the statue and landed a few feet away, standing upright in dark blue robes. It dropped its hood and the Dark One smiled at me. I exhaled sharply, letting out all my terror. I stood up and shook his hand.

“You scared the kwama out of me! Although, it is nice to see a friendly face in this horrible mist. I thought for a second that I was the only one left.” I returned his smile, although I wasn’t as happy as it might have revealed.

“Horrible? I think it’s fantastic! This mist is one of my greatest creations!”

“You made this stuff?”

“Oh yes, just recently in fact. And with it I have conquered one of the few questions that have really puzzled me.”

“What question?” I was a little bit surprised that he had been puzzled by anything, he must be one of the most powerful mages in existence.

“You!”

“Me?” My confusion grew as thick as the mist in the air.

“It’s complicated. Come, have a seat.” He gestured to the bench in front of the statue that I had failed to see before. I felt the mist slowly begin to clear up, and magic began to spark back to life in my veins. “Now, where to begin…”

“When I entered the Cheydinhal guild hall that first day you saw me, I cast upon myself the most powerful spell of concealment I could. Obviously I didn’t want to die lying in the middle of the floor, so with the spell I concealed my true identity and put up an image of someone else. However, when you saw me, you did not see that other person. You saw ME. I thought that perhaps I had made some mistake in casting the spell, but no. The error was not mine. Everyone besides you saw the other person lying on the ground. But you… I thought perhaps you had some powerful spell of revealing, but when I talked to you I could tell you were simply a lowly conjurer. So was there some family trait about you that could see through my deception? Or did my spell simply not work on you? After a few experiments, I realized that the latter was true. My particular form of magic simply did not work on you!”

“But you healed me during the Kvatch invasion! I know you did!” I was beginning to realize what he was talking about, but confusion was still thick.

“Yes, I did. But that was with conventional magic. You see, I use a form of magic that is very different from anything you know. I will not go into details, but suffice it to say I am the only one capable of this type of magic. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. After the Battle of Kvatch, I set out to explore how you could be completely immune to my magic. I traveled far and wide, experimenting on everything from Sloads to the Akaviri Tsaesci. Nothing was even resistant to my magic. So I traced your bloodline back. I found distant relatives of yours, and yet everyone in your family is neither immune nor resistant. So, you are truly a mystery.”

I thought for a moment. “But what about this mist? What is its relevance?”

He leaned in close. “It is a spell of mine that draws away both sound and magic. It proves that not only are you easily terrified, you are also not totally immune to my magic. It proves that you are not as interesting as I had thought.”

30: Blood-soaked Fog

2006-08-06T08:25:00.000-07:00

Jauffre wasn’t surprised that I was departing from Bruma. In fact, he had a pack of provisions awaiting me upon my arrival at Cloud Ruler. He said he could see it in my face that I wasn’t really much of a mountain man. I bid him and Martin farewell, and as I rode off through the thick gates I felt satisfied that the Blades trusted me. It reinforced my spirits, and I set my sights on Cheydinhal.

I decided that the main road would take too long, and set off on a shortcut of my own creation. Along the way, I passed by a massive rune stone. The glowing-blue etchings on the surface were of particular interest to conjurers, and as such my memory was sparked. I interpreted the stone to be a Hestra stone, and as I broke down the magical barrier around it I could feel conjuration magic coalescing around my hands and forearms. I broke through and felt the warm crack of the spell on my arms. I looked down and saw that my hands had been covered in gauntlets of daedric design. I felt (or rather, did not feel) the weightlessness of the gauntlets, and swished my hands about in the air. I turned away from the stone, knowing that it had nothing further to offer me at the time, and rode off towards Cheydinhal once more.

My shortcut brought me back up into the Jerall Mountains, and a heavy fog descended upon me as I ascended the mountain. I could barely see five feet in front of me, and as such I nearly ran into the rotting wooden door of some cave. I decided that the cave would make as good a refuge as any, and dismounted to enter. I tied my horse up to the door, knowing that if it got into any trouble it could probably just rip the door off its hinges.

I opened the door and stepped in, where I was immediately hit by the stink of goblins. I was eager to try out the gauntlets that floated around my hands, but I could tell that the spell was weakening. I crept through the cave and found myself looking at a cavern that was crawling with goblins. I readied one of my more explosive spells and waited for an opening in the crowd of goblins. I wanted to hit the center of the group, so as to spread out the damage and hopefully cause confusion as to which direction the attack came from. My plan worked, and the spell not only killed a fourth of them, but left half of the remaining ones hurt and confused. The other half came after me though, and I did not hesitate to burn and freeze them. I didn’t have much time before they overtook me, so I concentrated on my Breton heritage and activated the shield that I had learned as a child. It shimmered into effect and I continued my barrage of the goblins. I had cut down most of them, but a fourth of the original group managed to survive my assault and come face to face with me. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I drew my axe, which I noticed had been turned into a daedric mace! The Hestra rune stone had conjured up not only gauntlets, but also a mace of deadly efficiency! I laughed and smashed into the goblins bringing the mace around again and again with extreme speed. The weightlessness of the weapon brought a huge advantage to me, and because it was combined with my ancestral shield I did not receive even a scratch from the blunt goblin weapons. I slouched down and laughed at my victory! The bodies of at least two dozen goblins littered the floor, yet I collapsed upon them and just laughed and laughed. The gauntlets and mace disappeared, yet I continued to laugh. The battle lasted probably two minutes, yet I laughed for at least ten. When I stopped laughing, I started becoming worried. I frowned at the carnage I had created and shuffled back outside.

My horse was still there, and the door was still attached, so I assumed nothing bad had happened to my friend while I had been in the cave. The fog was still heavy in the air, and I had to feel my way through with the limited magical sense I had. I found a way to position myself on the map I had by using distinctive magical areas as reference. It wasn’t particularly accurate, but it was the best I could do. I proceeded in this way for some time, and I also used the slope of the mountains to tell me which way I shouldn’t go. Around dusk I sensed a huge, nearby increase in magical activity, and I decided to check it out.

It turned out to be the shrine of a Daedric prince. I nearly jumped when I saw it, but then realized I was looking at a statue of Azura. I breathed out a sigh of relief. Not only was Azura one of the few “good” Daedra, but I also knew exactly where the shrine was in relation to Cheydinal! All I had to do was find out which way was approximately south and I would find my way to Cheydinhal. I approached the shrine carefully, as I knew that dusk was a time of worship for the followers of Azura. They seemed to be performing some ritual, which explained the increase in magical activity. When they had finished, I asked one of them which way south was, and received a warm smile and a set of detailed, but simple, directions to Cheydinhal.

I followed them to the letter and soon came upon the city gates. I smiled, and put my horse in the stables outside the city. The fog was still quite dense, but I found my way to the guild hall and into a warm bed. I fell asleep almost instantly, my weary eyes shutting thankfully.

Bad News

2006-07-17T09:06:00.000-07:00

Well my summer is about to end. I'll be out of town for most of this week, and band camp starts next week. It goes from 8-5 every day for three weeks (i get sat and sun off) so i won't have enough time to write 3 posts a week. I'll try to get a post up every saturday, but no guarantees.

Thanks

29: Pranks, Part II

2006-07-16T11:04:00.000-07:00

“It shouldn’t be too difficult to accomplish. I think that you’ll be perfectly capable of a little bit of espionage. Now off you go.” Volanaro smiled and bowed. “Good luck.”

I nodded. I knew what I had to do. The prank was a simple one, but apparently it would bring both frustration to Jeanne and, consequently, joy to J’Skar and Volanaro. I walked slowly upstairs and flicked my hand at a chest of drawers. The spell I had just learned flew from my hand and the drawer unlocked. I smiled and flicked my other hand at the drawer. A burst of dull-yellow magic flew from my finger tips and hit the drawer. I slowly pulled my hand backwards and the drawer opened. I dropped my hand to my side and used my mind to close the drawer. The spells Volanaro had taught me would be very useful indeed!

Volanaro came upstairs behind me and patted me once on the back. He winked and walked into one of the back rooms off the main hall. I started walking towards Jeanne’s quarters, and just as I came to the staircase I heard an explosion from the back room. Jeanne ran past me and towards the explosion. I heard yells of frustration, but none of pain. Everything was going to plan.

I ran up the stairs to Jeanne’s room. The door was locked, but the spell I had learned quickly popped the door open. I stepped into the room and went straight for Jeanne’s desk. I carefully poked through the drawers until I found what I was looking for: Jeanne’s Manual of Spellcraft. I smiled and slipped it into my robes. I then put everything back the way it was and was out the door, hearing it magically lock behind me. I jogged downstairs and into the living quarters. I bumped into an area of nothing and sighed.

“Hello, J’Skar.” I heard a growl and was punched in the shoulder.

“Not so loud, hairless-one. This prank is not over yet! Do you have the book?” I pulled the Manual of Spellcraft from my robes and held it out. An invisible hand took it and it disappeared some where in J’Skar’s robes. “Excellent. I’ll get this to Volanaro. Come back just after ten o’clock.” With that I felt a hand pushing on my chest and I walked out of the living quarters.

I divined the time simply enough. All I had to do was tap into the magical field the sun creates as it passes across the sky. It generates enough magic as it moves that it leaves behind a magical trail in the sky. The decay of this magical stream can be measured and used to tell time. A practioner of theoretical magic by the name of Clok once proposed that a device could be tuned to this magic stream and used to tell time anywhere, but his theories never got off the ground. Anyway, it was about 8:30 at night, so I had some time to kill.

As I walked through the main hall I passed by Volanaro. His little distraction had worked very well, although it looked like it had caused him some pain. His robes were charred and his face was covered in soot, but he smiled as I passed. Smoke was drifting lazily out of the back room, and I saw a few mages trying to sweep up the damage. I left them to their work and went out into the town. I was looking for a less chaotic place to have dinner, and I found a quiet little tavern that I sat down in and ordered a hot meal. It wasn’t exactly delicious, but it wasn’t half bad either. I finished with enough time to get back to the guild hall and practice some more of my new spells. I was especially pleased with the telekinesis spell, as it allowed me to not only reach and manipulate objects from a distance, but I was also able to identify them to a certain extent from that distance. I checked the time stream every once in a while, and when it was a quarter past ten I went down to Volanaro’s room.

He was sitting on his bed and reading a novel of some sort. As I entered I left the door open and heard it close behind me, obviously J’Skar was in here as well. Volanaro shut the book and stood up. He thanked me for my help in the prank, and told me to step back a bit. I did this and he raised his hands, making a rather complicated gesture towards the door. A burst of purple magic shot from his hand and collided with J’Skar. Even before the burst hit him I could begin to see him, and I wondered if the burst was just for show; Volanaro did have quite the soft spot for theatrics after all. Nevertheless, J’skar was standing right there in front of me. Although, he was not an Argonian as I had assumed. After I had felt that scaly hand on the back of my head earlier I was confused. J’Skar lifted a paw and I saw that he was wearing a glove made out of Clannfear skin. He smiled at me and I chuckled.

“Well now, we see another excellent prank come to its end. Ah well, the invisibility field is still there, just not affecting anyone anymore. Now to hide this little bugger.” He pulled the Manual of Spellcraft from his robe and made another complex gesture at it, and it disappeared. He placed the invisible book underneath his mattress and shook my hand. “Excellent work, my friend. Things can get so very dull around here, and you’ve just brightened our week.” I bid him goodnight and J’Skar walked out into the hallway. We went to our respective rooms and I planned my next few days. I think it is time for me to head back to Cheydinhal. The mountains are pretty, but just too cold for my liking. I shall inform Jauffre of my plans tomorrow and set out after that.

28: Pranks

2006-07-13T13:09:00.000-07:00

The soft bed was much more welcome than the cot I had slept in at Cloud Ruler Temple. I awoke before dawn and sat down at the breakfast table. There wasn’t much on it, and I wasn’t really that hungry, but I ate a bundle of grapes before heading out into the dawn. I wrapped up in my robe and pushed out into the cold.

I don’t know why I enjoy these early morning walks so much. Perhaps it’s the fresh air or the stillness of the city, but I always enjoy a good walk. Not even the sub-zero temperatures could keep me away from the quiet streets. I prayed at the temple and spent a good bit of time warming myself inside, but soon I was back out in the streets, greeting anyone I met in the streets. Not a great diversity of people, of course, mostly guards and beggars, but I think a friendly face helped make their day a little better. It’s the small things that make the world better after all.

I returned to the Mages’ Guild and sat down with Volanaro and a woman I did not know at the breakfast table. My walk had worked up an appetite, and as I ate I listened to Volanaro and the woman talk. She was sitting at the head of the table, so I kind of assumed she was the Guild Head, but I couldn’t be sure. My assumption was soon proved correct as Volanaro addressed her as Headmistress. They were in heated conversation about something, though the details were a bit foggy to me. It sounded like one of the Guild Members had disappeared, but I didn’t catch the name of the mage or the circumstances of the disappearance.

Their conversation concluded, and Volanaro bid us both farewell. As he left, I noticed something rather odd: When he passed by the Guild Head he turned and smiled devilishly at her. She didn’t notice, but I could see him practically skipping with joy. I finished my breakfast and asked her about the disappearance.

“Oh, it’s just that one of our mages, J’Skar, has disappeared. Literally. Volanaro thinks that a spell might have backfired or something.”

“Can I help in any way?”

“Oh no, I couldn’t impose such a thing on a perfect stranger. Especially without reimbursement.”

“Well alright… How about this: I find J’Skar, and you give me a recommendation to the Arcane University.”

“Hmm, an interesting proposal.” She thought about it for a second, then smiled and said “Alright, it sounds like a fair deal. I need J’Skar back, after all. It would look terrible if someone important visited and one of my mages was gone! You might want to check with the other mages, see if they found anything.”

I spoke with a few mages, but all of them had seen nothing. I wasn’t too surprised of course. After all, J’Slkar had DISAPPEARED. Obviously he would be hard to see. I was beginning to lose hope, but then I spoke to a woman in the back room. She was purifying something in an Alembic, and when I spoke she did not take her eyes off of her work. I asked her about J’Skar and she sighed. She looked at me and said “Go bother Volanaro, it was HIS idea!”

I was a bit taken aback by this. I didn’t know what she meant, but I had an idea that it was linked to Volanaro’s smirk at the Guildhall Headmistress. Volanaro had left a while back, so I decided to make some more potions instead of searching the city for him. A few hours later he came back, still smirking slightly. I followed him down into the living quarters, intending to ask him about J’Skar. I jogged up behind him and asked him a rather pointed question.

“Where’s J’Skar?” He jumped a little, but when he turned around and saw me he smiled.

“J’Skar? Hmm, let me think…” He looked around for eavesdroppers before leaning in and whispering in my ear, “Can you keep a secret?” He smiled at me and I nodded. “He’s right behind you!” I felt a scaly hand grasp the back of my head and Volanaro burst out laughing. I twisted around and hit the hand off of my head, but I could not see anything there! Volanaro continued laughing, but when my hand closed onto the hilt of my axe he stopped abruptly.

“Oh come now, Will! Can’t you take a joke?” Suddenly it all made sense! I turned toward Volanaro.

“Ah, so YOU made J’Skar invisible. It was all a practical joke you were playing on the…” He held up his hand and smiled.

“On Jeanne, yes. We (meaning J’Skar and I) feel that Jeanne isn’t properly… qualified for her position. She’s only head of the Guild Hall because she buttered up people in high places. We’re just trying to rectify the mistake that was made. But now I’m afraid the jig is up, eh J’Skar?” The emptiness behind me growled in agreement. “Nevertheless, we are not finished with Jeanne. Not even close.” He grinned devilishly. “I would ask your help in this next prank, if you would be willing to assist.”

I thought about it for a moment. So long as no one got hurt in the process I was fine with it. Plus, if what Volanaro said about Jeanne’s “friends in high places” was true, then I would love to pass out some healthy justice.

“Alright, what do we do?”

27: Blades

2006-07-12T07:47:00.000-07:00

I rose stiffly from the “bed” I had slept in last night. It was no more than a piece of padding on the cold stone floor and a few blankets. I pulled on my robe and my shoes and stood staring blankly at the wall. I realized I had no idea where anything was in this fortress. I looked around the barracks but saw no guards, obviously they were all on duty. I didn’t want to go outside into the freezing mountain air, as my robe would provide only minimal protection from it. Last night was cold enough for me for a while. As I stood there looking confused I heard someone moving around up above me, and noticed a staircase nearby. I decided that would be as good a place as any to look for directions, so I proceeded upstairs.

I nearly ran into Martin as I rounded the corner, as he was coming from the other direction and the hallways were a bit cramped. He apologized and stepped back to let me through, but I just laughed. “You really aren’t used to this whole Emperor thing, are you Martin?” I asked with a smile.

He grinned at me, “Yes, it will take some getting used to. I’m used to being around people of noble heritage, but they were generally rather insulted at the sight of me. I was about to go to breakfast. Care to join?”

“I’d be honored… your majesty.” I bowed slightly, but then snapped back up and let him through. “To be honest, I don’t know where anything is around this place. I was going to ask for some directions before I ran into you.” I followed him through a sliding wooden door and into a great hall. It was mostly empty, and we proceeded right through it and into a much smaller room. It looked like a place to eat, read, whatever. A lounge, if you will. There was some bread, cheese and fruit on a table, and we sat at it and discussed the vagaries of magic. I was concerned about the Oblivion gates and what they might have done to the field of Conjuration magic, as it is mostly based upon Daedra. He suggested that it might make the spells easier to maintain or to cast. I was still worried, and I planned to go into Bruma and visit the Mages’ Guild there to find out more. I was seriously out of contact with my preferred field, and I wanted to get a spell to summon some sort of lesser Daedra. We finished and I left him chatting with a few off-duty Blades.

I stepped out into the cold air. It truly was freezing, and I held a bit of magical flame in my hands to warm them. Occasionally I would lift the flame up and warm my face, but there was little else I could do, short of setting my self on fire. I found Jauffre standing out in full Blades Armor in front of the main building. I approached him and asked him about the future.

“Well, at the moment I am attempting to gain contact with several of my sources. It will take some time before I know anything else. Listen, I would like to thank you for everything you’ve done. I would like to extend to you an invitation to join the Blades.”

I stared in disbelief at him. The Blades?! The Emperor’s secret service? I was in total shock, but I managed to dribble out some words, “Thanks, err… Thank you! I’m truly honored!”
He smiled, “Excellent!” He drew a sword and presented it to me. “Then I hereby declare you a Knight Brother of the Blades.” I took the sword and bowed. My heart was still beating at a quick pace. The Blades are the most selective organization in the Empire! And I had just been entered into them. I thanked Jauffre again and he told me I had some time. He would contact me when I was needed.

I took a short stroll around the perimeter of the fortress. The thought of being a Blade was bouncing around inside my brain like a Cliff Racer on Skooma. When I reached the head of the wall though, the thoughts stopped and stared. It was quite possibly the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. The sun was low in the sky, and the city of Bruma was laid out before me. I sighed, it had been a while since I was in the mountains, and I had almost forgotten their beauty.

I watched the sun rise for a short while, then jogged down the large flight of stairs to where I had left my horse. He was gone, and I jogged back up the stairs to ask what had happened to him. Then I saw a Blade walking my horse out to me. I thanked him and brought the horse down the stairs to more level ground. I mounted and rode down the Mountain to Bruma. I dismounted at the stable there and led my horse into the pen. He started chomping away happily at a bit of grass and I proceeded into town.

My first objective was to find the Mages’ Guild. I asked a nearby Guard and he pointed me in the right direction. I entered the main hall and greeted a tall Altmer there. I identified myself as being from the Cheydinhal Guild Hall and that I was passing through Bruma. He seemed jovial enough, and told me his name was Volanaro. I asked if he knew any spells of summoning, and he did know one. He told me that it was a Summon Scamp spell, and I nearly jumped for joy. I asked him to teach it to me, and fifteen minutes later I was summoning Scamps perfectly. Unfortunately, I could not remember what it was like to summon a Scamp before the Oblivion Crisis began, and so I could tell no difference between then and now. I asked Volanaro if he had noticed any differences in summoning, but he said that he had not summoned anything for quite some time.

I put the question about the Oblivion Crisis and its Affect on Conjuration on a back burner and moved to an alchemy station. Here I spent a good bit of time crafting potions and poisons, and by the time I was done it was late. I ate a quick dinner at the guild hall and then went to bed in one of the rooms. Perhaps tomorrow I can learn some more spells.

26: Speeches and Salutes

2006-07-08T16:58:00.000-07:00

A cold northern wind blew down upon us as we set off from the Priory stables. The sky rapidly grew dark, and soon the clouds opened up on us. We were drenched almost immediately, and there would be no point to going back or seeking shelter. We could deal with the cold, but if any assassins found their way to us when we weren’t expecting it we would be in a heap of trouble. The rain continued for a great time, and we were just entering the mountains before it stopped. I had decided to take a bit of a detour from the main road, forcing us to push our horses up several steep hills but also cutting our trip time in half. The rain kept all manner of creatures away from us during the ride, but I did see a pack of wolves following us for a while. We outran them and were soon riding up the final slope to Cloud Ruler Temple.

It was quite an impressive sight. By the time we reached the fortress, the skies had cleared completely and the sun was just about to set. The walls were made of curved stone and it was at the very peak of the mountain. I understood then how it could be defended so easily. The fortress was both elegant and functional, its walls thick and sturdy, and the people guarding it were the best trained in the entire empire. Martin would be very safe here indeed.

We dismounted and approached the huge gates. They opened slowly and a man in the armor characteristic of the Blades stepped out to greet Jauffre.

“Welcome, Grandmaster.” He glanced at Martin. “Is that him, sir?”

“Yes, Cyrus. This is Martin Septim, Son of Uriel Septim, and heir to the Throne of Tamriel.” Cyrus went up to Martin and knelt, welcoming him to Cloud Ruler Temple.

“Thank you, Cyrus. But I am not Emperor yet!” Martin was obviously not used to being someone of great importance. Cyrus stood and ushered us into the Fortress. We went up a few flights of stairs, and there stood a large group of Blades in two lines along the path, each bowing as Martin passed. Martin was unsure of what to do, and he looked almost scared. We came to the head of the group and Jauffre turned around. He began a short speech to the group of Blades.

“Blades, dark times are ahead of us. Emperor Uriel Septim and his sons were murdered under our watch, and the barrier between Oblivion and Nirn has been damaged. The Amulet of Kings has fallen into the hands of the Enemy, and the Dragon Fires have been darkened.” The Blades listened with intensity, showing no signs of fear or hopelessness. Jauffre continued, “But all hope is not lost… The man who stands before you today is Martin Septim, Son of Uriel Septim, and true heir to the throne.” He turned to Martin, raised his sword, and cried “HAIL DRAGONBORN! HAIL MARTIN SEPTIM! HAIL!” The Blades all did likewise, and I felt I should join in.

Martin was a little bit shocked, to put it lightly. He nearly jumped when Jauffre started saluting him, and when the salute died out, he stepped forward hesitantly and gave a very short speech.

“Jauffre, Will, everyone, I thank you all. I know you all expect me to be Emperor. I’ll do my best, but all this is going to take some getting used to. I will try my hardest to be worthy of your loyalty in the coming days. That’s it, thank you.” He stepped back and started to drop his gaze, but then thought better of it and held his chin up.

“Well, the Blades are at your command, my liege. Everyone back to your posts now.”

Martin turned to me, “Well, that wasn’t much of a speech was it?”

“They didn’t seem to mind” I replied truthfully.

We spoke for a while about his future as Emperor, as well as the Amulet of Kings and Daedric Magic. He agreed that the rules had changed. There was no possible way those Oblivion gates could have been sustained before. He believed (as well as Jauffre did) that the Amulet of Kings was a sort of “key” to maintaining the barrier between Nirn and Oblivion, and that the Dragonfires were the physical representation of that barrier.

I thought about this as I went to rest in the barracks. It was getting late, and I had a lot to think about. Plans must be laid for the future, and we need the Amulet of Kings back if we are going to stop Mehrunes Dagon.

Schedule Change

2006-07-07T16:59:00.000-07:00

No post today, im moving it and all further friday posts to saturday. Cheerio Chaps!

25: Assault on the Priory

2006-07-06T09:26:00.000-07:00

The road to Weynon Priory was short and quiet, as neither Martin nor I had said anything since our last conversation. A feeling of dread crept into my mind, but I simply dismissed it as being an aftershock from the terror of Kvatch. Nevertheless, I was wary as we approached Weyon Priory, and I stretched out my hands in case I would have need of them.

The outside was mostly quiet when we arrived; a few people were standing around and chatting but nothing else. They were wearing very familiar robes, but I couldn’t quite place them. The old man from the Priory who had given me the horse stepped out of the Weynon House and approached the small group of men in the robes. He began speaking to them, and Martin and I proceeded indoors. Suddenly, I remembered where I had seen the robes before: They were worn by the people who assassinated the Emperor!

I spun around, but I did not want to alert them to my intentions, so I walked casually towards them. As I passed Martin I told him to get inside and wait for me. I watched the four men in the robes very carefully, looking for any sign of attack they might make. Very soon, I perceived a small gesture one of the men made, and instantly I launched a fireball at them. It caught one of them men in the side, igniting his robe and knocking him over. I pulled out my axe and charged at them, and I knew they would not be defenseless for much longer. I was not surprised when strange weapons appeared in their hands and armor suddenly coated their skin, and brought my axe up to smash down upon the nearest assassin. He was quick, and the conjured weapon weighed nothing for him, but I outsmarted him. He had brought his mace up to block an overhead attack, so I shifted my weight ever so slightly and twisted around to bring the axe to his side. I heard ribs crack and the assassin crumpled to the ground. A burst of flame was all that was needed to finish him off. I turned towards the other two assassins and found that they had murdered the old man and run off into the Weynon House. I ran after them, sounding an alarm as I went. I hoped Martin could hold them off; we could not afford to lose either him or the Amulet of Kings.

I burst into the Priory House and received a mace to the chest. I was thrown backwards, out into the yard again. I healed myself and opened the door again, this time holding back a bit in case the assassin had another mace for me. He did, but I stepped away from the blow and counter-attacked. He soon lay in a crumpled heap by the door, and I started to make my way up the stairs when several more assassins came in through the door behind me. I spun and found myself face to face with 4 more assassins. Wasting no time, I launched a fireball and simultaneously swung at the head of the nearest assassin. He was knocked back into the expanding flame, but the other three were largely unharmed. I backed off a bit, knowing I couldn’t take all three of them at the same time. Luckily for me, Jauffre appeared behind the assassins and brought a huge Dai-katana down onto their unsuspecting backs. I attacked at the same time as he did, and the confused assassins were soon cut to pieces.

“The Amulet! We must protect it!” Jauffre was bounding up the stairs before I could even catch my breath, and yet I followed after him. Suddenly, Martin was thrown out of a small room I had not noticed before. He fell to the ground and groaned, and just then an assassin stepped out of the same room that martin came from. He was clutching the Amulet of Kings, and when he saw both me and Jauffre waiting to stop him, he turned to a large window and jumped out through it! I looked down from the window and saw the crumpled form of the assassin lying on the ground, but he was soon surrounded by several other assassins who pried the amulet from his grip and ran off.

Jauffre slammed the table with his fist, obviously furious that they had escaped with the amulet. I went over to Martin, hoping he was still alright. He groaned a little, but a few healing spells later he was back on his feet. Jauffre came over and shook his hand.

“So you must be Martin. I am Jauffre, Grandmaster of the Blades.”

“Pleasure to meet you Jauffre, but please, can we talk about this whole heir to the throne thing?”

“Not now, we need to get to a safer place. Will, would you like to help out some more?”

“It would be my pleasure.” I replied, eager to atone for my past sins against the Empire. “Where do you have in mind?”

“Cloud Ruler Temple, it has been the Blades’ fortress for many years now, there Martin will be safe.”

“Isn’t that up north of Bruma? In the mountains?” I thought I had heard of it before, but I had never seen it.

“That is correct, now come, it is a long ride.”

The three of us went down to the stables, and I found that my friend had indeed found his way home. I mounted him, and when Martin and Jauffre were on their respective horses we set off for Cloud Ruler Temple.

24: Talking

2006-07-04T07:39:00.000-07:00

I left the captain to his grief. I probably should have comforted him, but I am afraid I could not think of anything to say. I made my way back through the smoke filled halls of the castle. My body ached with fatigue, and my spells of healing could do nothing about the pain. Somehow, I reached the chapel and sat down on one of the unbroken pews. I prayed to the gods for forgiveness, but even as I made my plea I could feel sleep dragging me downwards.
A young looking guard was standing over me when I awoke. He apologized for waking me and presented to me a hastily wrapped package.

“It is from Captain Matius, He wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done. He said that his warrior days were over, and as such he would have no use for this anymore.” I took the package and found it to be rather heavy and rough. When I unwrapped it, I saw that it was a suit of armor similar to that of the guard before me, and that it was of the finest chain mail. The cloth was a bit dirty, but otherwise it was relatively undamaged. I could sense that it was magically enchanted, but I did not take the time to divine the exact enchantment. I thanked the guard and told him to thank Captain Matius for me. My pack welcomed the new suit of armor into its folds, and the young guard walked out of the chapel.

I knew that there was work still to be done. Martin still needed to be taken to Jauffre, and there was much to do before Martin could take his seat at the throne of the Empire. I bid farewell to the charred shell of Kvatch and proceeded down the mountain path to the refugee camp. The long winding road down the mountain took me by surprise, as I did not remember coming up so far. Apparently I had been too focused to notice how high up I was when I had rushed to help the guards… How long had it been since I had found out about the siege of Kvatch? I do not know how long I spent in the Oblivion gate, and the hideous clouds above me blocked out all light and sense of time. So how long had it been?

Martin was waiting for me in the camp, but I was too tired to proceed. He said that we could both use some sleep, and we would continue in the morning.

I had the strangest dream. I was flying above a crowd of oddly dressed people, all clustered around a small box. There was a flash of flame, and they all scattered away from the box. Nothing happened for a moment, but then suddenly fire began spitting out of the top! The flame changed colors and danced, and then box suddenly shot something into the air. It looked like a rock, but it exploded in a sphere of color! This continued for some time, and when the box had stopped its infernal spitting, everyone began to cheer. It was very strange indeed.

I awoke sometime around seven in the morning, and found Martin already cooking himself a breakfast. I pulled some bread and cheese from my pack, and we ate in relative silence. When we had both finished, we set off down the hill and towards Skingrad. Neither of us spoke for some time, and the road was quiet. Suddenly I remembered why the road up to Kvatch had not seemed so long. I had been riding my horse! I cursed myself for forgetting about it, but going back for it would take hours! I sighed and decided not to go back for it, I figured it would probably find its way home to the priory on its own.

We passed through Skingrad, but decided not to stop. It was still early in the day and neither of us was that tired. However, when we got through town and into the woods, Martin seemed to cheer up a little. He began talking, and soon we were chatting away like old friends. When the conversation turned to our backgrounds, however, things took a darker turn.

“I was raised on a farm in Kvatch County. My father was a simple man, and I helped as best as I could. But I was never quite like him. He was perfectly happy to farm all his life. I knew there was something more to the world than sowing and plowing. I started… dabbling in Daedra worship. Every child has his rebellious phase, but mine was particularly dark. I soon became harsh and unkind to my father, even assaulting him on occasion! One day, another worshipper lost control of a Daedroth he had summoned. It went on a rampage, killing several of my friends. It was then I realized what was happening to me. I threw away my horrible past, and joined the temple. I am not proud of my past, but it did serve me well during the siege. I think that without my time as a daedra worshipper, I would never have survived the siege. What about you? What sort of background do you come from?”

“I shall start with my early childhood. My parents had been traveling to their new home in Valenwood when my mother was pregnant. She went into labor during the trip, and no one was around to help her. My father tried his best, but he was a merchant, and had no idea what he was doing. My mother died during childbirth, and to this day my father does not forgive himself. When I as young he attempted to teach me in the ways of magic. He hired a tutor and I started at the age of eight. He didn’t want me to be in the same position he was in with my mother; unable to heal her pain with magic. Bretons are naturally adept at magic, and I learned quickly. My father was too demanding however, he pushed and pushed at me. Finally, I could not stand it anymore. I left him and went to join the Mages’ Guild. They cared for me and I learned at my own pace. I rose through the ranks very quickly. By the age of twenty I was a fully fledged Magician. I was able to buy my own house and do my experiments from there.

“Then I went too far. The Daedra I summoned destroyed my life. I was thrown out of the Mages’ Guild in Valenwood, and locked away in the Imperial City Prison for 5 years. My sentence was actually for 30 years, but the Emperor happened to go through my cell. I lost most of my magical skills, and my body atrophied. Now, I am back in the guild, although I will never be able to go back to Valenwood. I have vowed to help the Emperor, even after his death, because he freed me. Not much farther now, Chorrol is down this road.”

Vacation

2006-06-24T11:42:00.000-07:00

Ah, summer. I love it. Im taking a break for june and ill be back in july prolly.

Right now im going back through some of my older, but still great games. Warcraft III:Frozen Throne, Worms Armageddon, and Roller Coaster Tycoon. What are you all up to?

23: Strange, isn't it?

2006-06-06T15:48:00.000-07:00

We rested a short while, and I examined the interior of the chapel. The hallowed stone was charred and pockmarked in places, and the bell tower had a huge hole in it. It made me question what exactly had happened here the night of the siege. Something had obviously breached Kvatch’s walls, but there were no sizable holes to speak of. Also, the entire city of Kvatch seemed to have turned to rubble, which was certainly not something a Dremora’s mace could do. The Daedra had something up their proverbial sleeves, and I intended to find out what it was exactly. Still, I didn’t want to cause the survivors of Kvatch any more anguish than they felt necessary, and questioning them so soon after the invasion seemed inconsiderate. I decided to let it go for a while, but had no intention of stopping myself from wondering.

I moved about the chapel, praying to each of the nine gods at their individual altars. It had been sometime since I had visited a wayshrine to any of them, and so I did not receive any blessings, save for one from Kynareth. In truth, my attention was focused more on the sleeping bags piled around the altars. They were nothing more than a few sheets, and yet everyone had been reduced to sleeping upon them. The rich and the poor, the sick and the healthy; all had to sleep out that horrible night on little more than a piece of cloth separating them from the hard stone floor. Many of the bags were stained with urine or blood, and the collective smell was unbearable; not necessarily because of the strength of the odor itself, but because of the horror that each bore witness to. A man is truly petrified beyond words when he would soil the only thing he has to sleep on. Looking upon this did not bring a tear to my eye, however. These cots represented the lucky few who had made it to safety in time. They were the ones who had not been driven out into the streets to be cut down and ripped apart by Scamps. I did not cry, but I said a prayer for all of them. Hatred and anger were all that I felt. Realizing that these blood-stained and soiled cots belonged to the LUCKY people made me make a vow right then and there: I would hunt down the bastards who started this whole mess and cut them to pieces. My mind was racing with murderous rage when the captain called us to battle. The time to rest was over. The time for revenge had come.

We burst from the chapel and into the central square, cutting down all the daedra that stood before us. I myself took down seven scamps and two Dremora. We fought terrible odds, at least eight to one, and yet we emerged victorious. I healed what I could in the momentary lull in fighting, but we were soon off again to retake the castle. Unfortunately, the portcullis was down, and there was no way to open it from outside. The captain quickly formulated a new plan. It would be difficult for me, but it was critical for our success.

I was to return to the chapel and find the guard who had been posted there. Berich Inian was his name, and he held the key to the North guard tower. In that guard tower was a secret passageway that led into the castle gatehouse. From there I could raise the portcullis and the captain would rejoin me. It seemed simple enough if you didn’t factor in all the daedra that stood between me and the guard tower.

Nevertheless, I had a job to do, and I jogged back to the chapel to find Berich. He was conversing with three imperial legion soldiers, and I nearly jumped for joy when I saw them. The legion is much better trained than the city guard, and the war that was going on could really use their help. They all looked at me, and I strode purposefully forward.

“Come on, I need your help.”

“What for? Have we retaken the castle already?” Berich seemed torn between terror and boredom. Obviously he didn’t like being posted at the chapel.

“I need to get into the North Guard house. Can you help me?”

“Well, I have the key to it, but it is a fair distance from here, and the way is crawling with Scamps. You’ll need my help, and the help of these three if they’re willing to give it.” He gestured towards all three legion soldiers. The lead one smiled.

“We’re ready for battle. Just tell us where to go.” He drew his sword slowly and looked at me. “You’re in command now.”

“Thank you. Berich, which way to the guard house?”

“Well, we’ll have to go through the chapel undercroft. There’s a way out from down there.”

“Very well. Berich is on point, and I want you three to kill anything that’s not human.”

“We can do that.”

Berich took us down through the dank undercroft and out into the fire. My little platoon and I were quite effective; breaking through several score of Scamps. Eventually we came to a tower that was missing half of its walls and Berich sighed.

“Well, it looks like you didn’t need my key after all. What were you looking for inside?”

“A passage into the castle gatehouse. Can you help me find it?”

“Sure. Its right under that big piece of rubble. Shouldn’t be too hard to move that rock though.”

He was right on both counts. With the help of the three legionnaires we moved the huge rock aside and descended down into the passage. Berich said he would return to his post. Obviously terror overcame boredom. The passage was short, and soon we were back above ground in the gatehouse. I went directly for the winch to open the portcullis, but I required the help of a legionnaire to rotate the thing.

As soon as the portcullis was up, the captain and his men charged into the courtyard, slicing up the Daedra within. Things were good to start with, and we cut most of them down. As soon as the doors to the Keep opened however, we were inundated with Scamps. We all fought bravely, but soon we were forced to fall back to the gatehouse. It was more easily defended, but there were simply too many Scamps. I lobbed fireballs over the first line of defense and into the sea of Scamps, hoping to damage them as much as possible. Healing the primary defenders was also a top priority, and between the fireballs and healing spells my magicka reserves were soon drained. I rummaged through my pack and found a potion to restore my magicka, and soon I was back in the fight. We fought like this for what seemed like ages; five strong men holding a line against the Scamps and rotating out during a lull in the fight, and me rushing about, healing guards and killing scamps.

Eventually, we struck down the last of them. Sadly, we lost seven of our men, reducing us to the captain and I, two city guards and the three legionnaires. The legionnaires were bleeding profusely, but refused to stop. I admired their bravery, but cursed their stupidity. I healed them as best as I could, but it was not enough. They would certainly be dead in a few hours.

We pushed aside the mountain of dead scamps and stumbled into the keep. The Daedra seemed to have exhausted all their troops on the fight in the courtyard, as the castle was deserted. We found no traces of the counts guards anywhere. Finally, we came to the count’s room, but when we found him lying in a pool of his own blood, the captain burst into tears. He knelt at the counts side for a long while, his anguish flowing in rivulets down his face. I was about to console the captain, but then I realized that I did not know his name. I had fought alongside him in the bloodiest battle I had ever seen, and I did not even know his name.

It is so strange that times such as these will cause one to slaughter beast after horrid beast, and yet not know the names of those who slaughter alongside you. Dark times are coming. The siege of Kvatch is only the beginning…

22: Martin

2006-06-02T15:21:00.000-07:00

The guards’ were overjoyed! By closing the Oblivion gate, I had given them hope. Our work was not done though, and I rallied the men and prepared them to storm the city gates. The captain was shocked that I had closed the gate, but overjoyed nonetheless. I spoke with him as the guards were getting ready to attack.

“You know the city better than I do captain. What’s the plan?” He pulled out a hastily drawn map of the city and explained the plan.

“What we have to do is rescue any survivors, obviously. However, our main goal is the castle. If we can retake it we should be able to drive any remaining Daedra out. Now, the church is a good target to start out with. I believe that a small group of survivors is holed up there, although I don’t know if they have been successful in repelling the enemy. From there, we will move through the main square, across the draw bridge and into the castle. It’s as simple as pie.”

“Yeah, a big, stinky, Daedra-infested pie. Just like mom used to make.” This came from one of the guards, although exactly who I do not know. The captain frowned in the direction of the comment, but rolled up the map and clamped on his helmet.

“Lets go, we can’t let the Daedra barricade the main gate. Will, you are up front with me; we’re gonna push these bastards back to the hellish void they came from!” He drew he sword and charged towards the gate, I did likewise with my axe, but gave out a hearty battle cry for good measure.

We led the guards to the gate. When we pushed through into the city, we were met with several blasts of fire from Scamps and Dremora inside. I was mostly unaffected by them, due to my newfound resistance to fire. I felt the warmth, but other than that I was unaffected. I used this newfound talent to block many of the fireballs from hitting my fellow soldiers. We faced about 15 scamps and 4 Dremora; bad odds for the first battle, but we were able to cut them down with only the loss of 4 men. I did my best to heal the wounded, but I was drained from fighting, and my talents are not restoration-oriented. We secured the chapel, finding it filled with only 10 or so survivors. The air was heavy with sorrow, and I bowed my head at the altar, saying a few words of prayer for the dead. I was interrupted just before I finished.

“It’s no use to pray. The gods have left us. Our enemies triumph, and the world will shatter before them.” The old man who said this had tears running down his cheeks. How sad it is, that a man of his age would give up. He had obviously lived a long life, and was probably blessed by the gods. I could not understand how he could desert them so easily. A young priest walked up to me and muttered in my ear.

“Listen not to him. He watched his five grandchildren ripped apart before his eyes y the Daedra. He will recover in time.”

“One can only hope so. Without faith, what are we? Empty shells of what we once were. Empty shells.”

“Well said. My name is Martin. We are all thankful for your help in rescuing us, whatever some might say.”

“Martin?” My mind raced back to Jauffre’s assignment. “You’re alive! Thank the gods!”

“Aye, and thank them heartily, but you act as if you know me. Why?”

“I must explain. My name is Will Syras. I was a witness to the assassination of our Emperor, Uriel Septim. I have come to save you because you are his son. You are the last living heir to the throne of Tamriel.”

“What? You speak madness, friend! My father was a simple farmer, not the Emperor!”

I knew that he wouldn’t accept the news well. Still, I had to convince him somehow that he was the true heir! My mind raced, and eventually I came up with a plan.

“Listen Martin, you are the heir to the throne. You must believe me.”

“What if I don’t believe you?”

“Then come with me to Weynon Priory. There we will find the Grandmaster of the Blades, he can explain it better to you than I can. Besides, you have nothing left here. Please, when Kvatch has been retaken, you must follow me to Weynon Priory.”

“Hmm, I suppose you are right. There is nothing left here for me. Still, I need to think about it. Meet me at the camp the survivors established, down near the base of the mountain, when you have retaken Kvatch.”

“Count on me being there.”

The Captain had been conversing with a few guards that had helped defend the chapel through the night, but now that he was finished I approached him to see about the second part of the plan. We would make our way through the main square and into the castle. Hopefully we would meet up with the count and his personal guards there, and then we could push the Daedra out forever.

21: Sigil Stone

2006-06-01T13:40:00.000-07:00

My dreams were surprisingly peaceful. I esd wandering through beautiful plains of lush grass, the wind slapping gently against my face. Suddenly I was at the gates of the Imperial City. They opened before me and I walked through into the famed Talos Plaza. The large dragon statue moved to face me, stretching and flapping its wings sleepily. It smiled down upon me, and I felt a glorious rush of cool run through my veins. The statue reared up and blasted fire upon me, but I was unfazed by it. Seemingly satisfied, the statue returned to its former position, and I was suddenly back in the golden fields.

When I awoke, the same coolness was still about me, yet now the fields of grain were the ashen slopes and ruins of Oblivion. I breathed deep, enjoying the feeling of healed ribs and lungs. I pulled myself to my feet and looked around for any signs of the Dark One. Nothing was around me except for ash, lava, and the huge spire. I did find my pack and my axe nearby, and as I strapped them on I realized that the heat really wasn’t effecting me at all anymore. I looked at my skin very closely and was able to distinguish a very slight shimmer to it. The effects of a resist fire spell, obviously. I did not know how long it would last, so I opened the huge doors and entered the immense spire.

The column of flame was still burning its way up to the ceiling, and everything else was the same. I did notice a rather large pool of coagulated blood near the corpse of a half-melted Dremora, and shuddered when I realized that it was my own. There was nothing else to see down there, so I went to the door that was hidden rather well at the side of the room. It had no discernable way to open it, so I simply laid my hand on it and gave it a push. Whether the push was necessary or not I don’t know, but the door started sliding open. I found myself in a corridor with a very high ceiling that turned into a very cramped stairway. This led me to another high room similar to the first corridor. I was wary, and when a scamp jumped out at me from the shadows I was ready. A swing from my axe connected with the Scamp’s face, stunning it long enough for me to reach in and freeze its heart (or whatever organs Scamps have).
A blast of fire whizzed by me as the scamp fell to the floor. I spun and launched a fireball back at my attacker. My blast missed as well, but it illuminated the face of another Dremora, this one clad in a dark robe. It was obviously more magic-oriented than the first I had met, and it summoned a scamp out of thin air. I used the scamp as cover from the Dremora’s fireballs and charged at them both. The Dremora accidentally fried its own Scamp with a fireball, and I pushed through the dissipating form to meet the Dremora head on. It defended itself, but a few cuts from my axe and blasts of frost ended its unholy life. I searched through its robe and found several useful health potions, as well as a few scrolls.

I was feeling much stronger than before. The resist fire spell was doing wonders to keep me protected from the heat, and my magical reserves were hardly dented by the battle I had just won. Things were looking good, and I proceeded up through the tower. Winding passages brought me back into the central chamber of the spire, but I was on a higher level up. The ceiling was still out of sight, but the bottom level was a fair way down as well. I continued up in this fashion for some time, meeting the occasional scamp and dispatching them to the Void. I also found a number of dead Daedra and charred remains. Obviously someone was making their way up the tower ahead of me. I quickened my pace and hoped to catch up to them.

The corpses were mostly fresh, and finally I came to a door that couldn’t have been opened by the person ahead of me. I searched the rest of the level for them, but eventually had to go out a door that took me outside the spire. A long bridge extended from the main spire to one of the smaller towers, and I practically ran along it. I opened the door into the smaller tower and heard the sounds of battle coming from above me. I ran up a twisting ramp until I reached the top. What I saw there was almost beyond words.

The Dark One was swinging a longsword of Daedric construction and practically dancing amongst a crowd of no less than ten Dremora! He dodged and weaved through the Daedra, cutting at them and blasting them with the occasional spell. I didn’t want to intervene, as the Dremora looked extremely powerful and incredibly angry. I simply watched in awe as the Dark One reduced them to ash and bloody corpses. The floor was soon littered with corpses, and the Dark One didn’t seem to have received a single scratch! He sheathed his longsword and started digging through the corpses. I slowly emerged from the shadows and announced myself.

“Its me... Will. That was… amazing!” I stood a fair distance from him and gaped.

“Thank you, I am simply glad they weren’t all from Mehrunes Dagon’s personal guard. Now, if you would please help me find the key.” He hadn’t even looked up at me, and simply continued searching the corpses. I bent down and searched through the corpses, although I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for.

“Ah! Here we go.” He held up a small red crystal and stood up. I assumed he had found the key he was looking for, and stood up as well.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Well, we need to shut this gate now don’t we? I am sorry I left you lying in the ash at the base of the spire, but if we do not hurry then many more will die.”

“So we continue up the tower?”

“Yes, we must reach the top and pull the sigil stone from its pedestal. Then we will return to Kvatch. Now come, we have a fair way to go yet.”

I followed him out of the tower and back across the bridge to the main Spire. He inserted the crystal in a small hole in the locked door, and the door slid open. He said that there shouldn’t be too much danger ahead, and allowed me to lead.

When we encountered a Dremora patrolling the corridors, the Dark One refused to help me unless I truly needed it. As I fought the Dremora he made some helpful comments about my spells and fighting, and I took them all to heart. They turned out to be extremely useful tips, and I improved greatly simply from listening to him. We worked our way up to the very top of the tower, and found ourselves in a very different room.

The floor of the room was mostly the usual metallic stone, but there was also a large section of the floor that was made out of a reddish crystal. The pillar of flames came out of a gap in it, and though it continued upwards, I could see where it stopped. The flames entered the bottom of a large, circular pedestal and stopped. I immediately knew that the sigil stone was in that pedestal, and started to climb the stairs towards it. The stairs themselves were huge spikes jutting out from the wall, and they led to a second floor that was overhung by what appeared to be a huge canopy made of meat! I gagged at the smell, and the Dark One took the lead at this point. We circled around to where the canopy met the floor and proceeded up it. The Dark One blasted a Dremora and we continued. The meat squelched under my feet, and I had an overwhelming urge to vomit. I held it in however, and we finally came to the pedestal.
It was chained to the walls and ceiling and hovered in the pillar of flame. The circular base had four spikes that held the sigil stone in place. The Dark One walked up to it and stopped, then turned around and looked at me.

“You must take it. Remove the sigil stone, but keep it close.”

I walked up to the stone and looked at it. It was surrounded in flames and pulsated slowly. I reached out to touch it ad found that it was not hot at all, but when my fingers hit the stone, it started vibrating and the pedestal began swinging chaotically. I jumped slightly, but grabbed the stone and wrenched it from the pedestal. The pillar of flames shot up towards the ceiling, filling the room with fire, and as I began to panic the Dark One simply smiled and grabbed my shoulder. Things started shifting in some unusual way, time and space were altered, and I found myself flung back onto the ground in front of Kvatch.

I turned and saw the Gate collapse in on itself, breaking the supports and closing violently. I let out a sigh of relief and heard a cheer go up from the guards at the barricade. They all rushed up to me and began thanking me profusely, I simply smiled and said it was really not my doing, that the Dark One had done it all. But when I looked around for him, he had vanished…

20: Lava and Darkness

2006-05-30T18:57:00.000-07:00

Although the portal itself was cold, the plane of Oblivion was not. It was like stepping through a film of ice into a furnace. I shuddered in the heat and looked around me.

I had seen this place before, back when I was yanked from Cheydinhal into Oblivion. Billowing clouds of smoke rose from an ocean of lava, and the ground itself was close to catching fire. Between the rocks imbedded in the ground there was ooze that glowed faintly and burned my hand when I touched it. Spikes rose from the ground in places, each dripping with blood, and huge gates closed off a bridge nearby. I was overcome by nausea when I turned to face a number of stakes with Dunmer heads impaled on them. I turned away and held back my sickness.

I recovered and focused my thoughts on the task ahead. The gates were closed, so I would have to find a way around them. It didn’t look like too much of a problem, as much of the area around the bridge was in ruin and I could spot two possible paths. The way would be made rough by the rubble, but I would manage. I didn’t exactly know where I was going, but the huge tower in the distance seemed like as good a target as any. I set off across the ash and readied myself for the worst.

The worst manifested itself in a pack of scamps that was harassing a man. I rushed in to help him and between the two of us we dispatched them quickly. The man was wearing a torn guard’s uniform and was bleeding profusely. He started to fall over, but I caught him and healed his major gashes and burns. He muttered something about getting ambushed and the Daedra capturing some of his group. I healed him until he could walk again and sent him off towards the Oblivion gate back to Kvatch. Hopefully the captain will be able to get him to a better healer.

I continued along the rubble strewn ash, dispatching the occasional small scamp with some work. They were difficult, and the heat weighed down on me, making my movements sluggish and ineffective. In fact, the heat seemed to strengthen the scamps, as they would attack more vigorously the closer to lava I became. I found that my Flare and Fireball spells were worthless against the scamps, which was not surprising, but my long range capabilities were severely limited without them. They did some damage to them, but it was too little to count for much.

The scamps were not completely flame-proof, thankfully. They skirted the edges of the lava pools, but never dipped in. I noticed this and tried to use it against them. It worked quite well. One of the more humorous times that it worked, I launched a fireball at the scamp’s feet. It jumped back away from the fireball, and landed right in a pool of lava! It screamed and tried to claw its way out, but the heat melted its very bones. My other attempts at this did not work as well, but they worked well enough.

There was an odd arrangement of flora in Oblivion. All of the plants appeared to be hostile to me, whether it was through a thick, noxious gas, or through direct assault with razor sharp tendrils. I was able to collect some of these rare specimens for study later. They would no doubt prove to be a useful ingredient in potions.

Finally, I reached the base of the huge tower. It turned out to be a central spire at the middle of several others. Two huge stone doors marked the entrance to the spire, and upon them were engraved Daedric runes. From what I could read of them, they meant “The Blood Feast.” I cautiously approached them and they cracked open at my touch.

Inside it was dark and even hotter than the outside. The floors and walls emanated heat and my misery was crippling. At the center of the room was a huge column of magical fire. It roared up from a pool of lava in the center of the tower towards the top of the tower. The tower was huge inside, and I could not see the top from my position. At first I did not know how to climb the tower, but then a small door at the side of the room started sliding open. I turned to see what had opened it, and was met by a huge warrior clad in full Daedric armor! I backed off as quickly as I could, my mind petrified with fear. The Dremora pulled a hefty mace from its side and screamed at me.

“SUFFER, FLESH SACK!” Its voice was painful to listen to, and my mind was further assaulted. It moved extremely fast, and its mace knocked me off of my feet in an instant. I felt several ribs shatter under the huge mace, and the Dremora was soon standing over me. It kicked me in the side of the head with its huge boot, and the spikes slashed open my face. My screams were mere gurgles; obviously my lung had been ruptured by my broken ribs. The end was near, I could feel it…

And yet, light always conquers over shadow. And, just as darkness closed over my mind, the huge doors to the spire flew open. A huge amount of magical force hit the Dremora standing over me. The plates of its armor melted together under the onslaught of magic, and suddenly a familiar face was over me. I felt healing magic enter my body, and my bones began to reset themselves.

“Sleep now Will, I shall watch over you.” The Dark One smiled and my eyelids shut involuntarily.

Not my fault!

2006-05-29T13:15:00.000-07:00

Sorry bout that whole not posting at all last weekend thing, but it was out of my hands. I wrote an entry for friday, but the stupid site would not let me update the site! i tried again on saturday morning (no luck, obviously) but then my parents dragged me off to our lake house for memorial day weekend. so sorry, but saturday and sunday will not have posts. Friday's post is now up though, down below this one, enjoy!

Oh, and the new posting schedule will be, effective immeadiately, TUESDAY, THURSDAY, FRIDAY. This is not going to be the permanent schedule, its just a transition into summer that is TEMPORARY. I'm still weighing my options to see what the permanent schedule will be.

19: Weariness

2006-05-26T13:19:00.002-07:00

As I walked past the bloody, battered guards, I realized that what had happened here was big. These guards were extremely well trained, and it was not easy to damage their morale. Yet the hellish onslaught had worn away at their nerves; they had watched their city be destroyed and their families be burned away. These men were not soldiers. They were not meant to be fighting off an entire Daedric invasion. They were not meant to watch their city burn.

I passed a badly wounded guard and sent my healing spell into his chest. It did not help his weariness, but when he realized that a capable mage had arrived to help, his eyes brightened a little. I healed him one more time and continued up the line.

It was not much of a defensive line. The guards had simply sharpened logs and piled them into a fence. It was sad defensively, but strangely impressive. The guards must have reacted very quickly and efficiently to be able to construct something in the middle of a war zone. I smiled at the ingenuity of man and mer, and finally reached the captain.

“Sir, I’d like to offer my hand in the retaking of Kvatch.” He looked at me with weary eyes and frowned.

“Retaking Kvatch? That is impossible at the moment. I appreciate the offer, but we simply cannot get into the city with that huge Oblivion gate open right in front of the city gates!”

“Well… Close it.” It seemed like the obvious solution to me, but the captain seemed to get rather angry.

“Close it?! How?! In all my years as captain of the Kvatch guard, I have never seen anything like this. I haven’t the faintest idea how to close it!”

“Well, as an experienced Daedra conjurer, I can tell you that all you need to do is disrupt the anchor.”

“Disrupt the what? Look, I don’t know much about anchors, but I’m fairly certain that they are on boats!”

I sighed. I didn’t want to get into an argument about correct anchor location with the captain, I wanted to help! I began to get somewhat annoyed with the captain; he had no idea what he was talking about! I decided to tell him what I was going to do, and then do it. He could mull over semantics all he wanted, and when I returned we would retake Kvatch!

“Look, captain. I’m going in there.” I pointed at the massive, fiery portal, “When the gate has been closed, we will retake Kvatch. Until then, I would recommend staying here and leading your men.” I stepped over the fence and made my way to the Oblivion Gate. The captain said nothing to me, but I could feel all the soldiers gazing at me as I approached the Gate.

The Gate emanated many things. Heat was the predominant force excreted, but I also felt an overwhelming surge of hatred and sorrow as well. I examined the portal for a moment, looking at the fiery red that swirled violently in front of me. I kicked a rock through to make sure I wouldn’t just explode when entering Oblivion. I knew that this portal was essentially a giant conjuration spell, and that it wouldn’t hurt me, but one can never be too careful. I swallowed my fear, drew my axe from my side, and stepped through the strangely cold portal…

18: Rain

2006-05-22T13:28:00.000-07:00

The stables were small and smelled like feces, which was not surprising given it’s occupants. Most of the horses in there were poorly groomed and lazy. They were all a dirty brown, except for the one the old man had told me I could use. It was the only well groomed horse in there and trotted around the stable quite nicely. I went up to it and it gladly followed my tugs at its reins. I pulled myself up into its saddle, and tried to accustom myself to it. I had never been very good at riding horses, but it was not too hard for me to make it move. The saddle was quite comfortable, and I was soon off on my way.

The road brought me past a wayshrine to one of the Nine, but I decided to keep moving, it was getting later after all. The road wound down towards the Imperial City, and then made a sharp turn towards Skingrad. I admired the construction of the Imperial City as I rode by, the sun just starting to dip down towards the horizon. I estimated that it was about four o’clock, and pushed my new horse onwards.

As I neared Skingrad, the skies began to darken. I cursed my luck and pushed my friend onwards, racing to reach Skingrad before the storm broke. The walls came into sight, and I thought that I might make it in time. I came so very close, and the sky opened up onto me as I rounded the last bend in the road. Luckily, the bridge that led to the castle was above me, and kept me fairly dry for a moment. I refused to slow my horse down though, and got him into a small stable area outside the gates. I jumped off and tied him to a pole and ran to the gates, pulling them open and resting for a moment in the dry area beneath the Gatehouse.

The rain pounded down for quite some time, but lessened enough for me to make it to a lodge. I couldn’t make out the name when I was outside because the sky released its drenching payload before I could make it inside. I squelched as I made my way to the bar; a stiff drink was what I needed after that downpour. The Orc behind the bar welcomed me to the Two Sisters’ Lodge, but my temper was as sour as the weather. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s getting soaked. I peeled off my shoes and left them by the fireplace, hoping they would dry soon. I returned to the bar when the Orc barmaid had prepared my drink, and downed it quickly. I asked her for a room, and after an exchange of gold for a key, I made my way up the stairs and opened up my room. It was pleasant, and at ten gold it was a great deal. I shut the door and pulled off my soaked clothing. The rain outside showed no sign of stopping, so I laid myself down to sleep for a while; it was getting late anyway.

It was still raining when I woke up. I cursed my luck and sighed. If the rain didn’t let up soon, I wouldn’t be able to make it to Kvatch in time to meet the Dark One! I pulled on a dry robe and made my way down to the bar. My shoes were almost dry, so I put them on and got some hot food from the barmaid. I finished, and heard the rain stop! I paid for my food quickly and ran upstairs to gather my things. When I returned, I gave my key to the barmaid and stepped outside. The rain seemed to have stopped for good, and the early morning sun was peeking out through the clouds! I thanked the gods and jogged out to where my horse was.

The stable had kept him mostly dry, although the ground was practically a river at his hooves. I mounted him anyway, and set off towards Kvatch.

It was not too long of a ride, and I reached the path leading up towards Kvatch at about 11 o’clock. But something was wrong. The sky was cloudy, and smoke rose from Kvatch’s walls! I pressed my horse on, and met a hysterical man running along the road. He was screaming about how Kvatch was gone! Something about how Daedra had attacked in the middle of the night and destroyed everything! I left him to rant and rode as fast as I could along the road. Soon I came upon a camp of disheveled people, many of them weeping, and I assumed they were the survivors. I slowed only a little as I passed through the camp, and then continued up the winding, rocky path towards the fortress like city of Kvatch. It was perched at the top of a mountain, and the climb was not easy for my horse on the wet ground, but in time I reached the top to find horrors.

The ground was charred beyond belief, and spires the color of obsidian rose from the ground in places. I looked towards the gates, but all I saw was a huge, steaming portal that burned with unholy fire. I could not make out much behind it, but it looked grim. The portal was flanked on either side by obsidian spires with lava running down them, and I was immediately reminded of the portal I had been the creator of years before. But this portal, it was twenty feet high! I didn’t think anything that big could be sustained for any amount of time!

There was a small group of soldiers holding off several Daedra, and I rushed to their aid. There weren’t many of them lurking around, and they were dispatched quickly, but the soldiers seemed to have lost all morale, and they looked extremely tired. I approached the captain of the guard and see where I could put my spells to use…

17: Brother Jauffre

2006-05-20T08:47:00.000-07:00

I woke up early, so early that it was still dark outside. I ate a big breakfast at the bar, then set off on my way. Chorrol was a long way off yet, and Kvatch farther than that. I was a little off schedule, but nothing I couldn’t make up.

The road was long and uneventful. I picked reagents and fought off the occasional wolf, but eventually I came to a turn in the road. I checked my map and decided that heading through the wilderness would be faster than taking the road, so I climbed up the mountains. The way was hard and tiring, but eventually I was back on a road. This time it was the Orange Road. My travels on it were uneventful as well, but I did run across a few bandits, who were easily enough dispatched.

Eventually I came to the walls of Chorrol, and entered through the North Gate. I thought about visiting the Mages Guild here, but decided against it because I was still behind schedule. I made a quick stop at the local tavern and took a swig of beer before exiting Chorrol through the south gate. Weynon Priory was a short walk from there.

The Priory was very nice, though not much different from any other place of worship I have seen. The chapel and Priory House were separate from each other, but I decided to pay my respects to the gods before finding Jauffre. My prayer was short, and I made my way back into the Priory House where I was spoken to by an elderly man in a simple, black robe.

“Welcome to Weynon Priory, what can we do for you?”

“I’m looking for Jauffre. I have something for him.”

“Very well, he is upstairs, on your right. Blessings of Talos be with you.”

I thanked him and headed upstairs, turning right like he told me to. There was no one there except for another old man reading a book. I started to wonder if maybe the old man downstairs was losing his mind, but decided to speak with the one reading the book.

“Hello, I am looking for Jauffre. Do you know where I can find him?”

The old man smiled and said, “Last I saw he was sitting right in front of you. I am Jauffre. What can I do for you?”

I was a little surprised that this old man was the Grandmaster of the Blades. I was expecting a huge man that could tear my arms off with one hand. Then I realized that his eyes were extremely intelligent. Obviously he had risen through might of mind, rather than might of muscle.

“I have something for you, information and something… else.” I wanted to make sure that this truly was Jauffre before revealing I had the Amulet of Kings.

“What kind of information?”

“Information about the Emperors assassination.”

His eyes grew wide and he leaned forward to look at me. His voice dropped a little, but became slightly harsher. “What do you mean? Who are you? What do you know about the Emperor’s death?”

“My name is Will Syras, I was at the emperors side when… When the bastards killed him. Just before he died, he gave me something, and told me of you, and what is to come. He told me to ‘Take the amulet to Jauffre, only he knows of the heir to my throne. Find him, and close shut the Jaws of Oblivion.’”

“The Amulet? Did he give it to you?”

“Yes,” I drew it out from my pack, “he told me to bring it to you.”

He took it from me and examined it. “By the Nine! This IS the Amulet of Kings! Only the strange destiny of Uriel Septim could have brought it here to me, stranger still since it was brought by you.”

“What about the heir? Do you know where he is?”

“Yes, I do. His name is Martin, he is a priest at the chapel of Akatosh in Kvatch.” I immediately made a connection between this information, and the fact that I am already headed to Kvatch to meet the Dark One. “If what you say is true, Will, then Martin is our only hope... The Jaws of Oblivion must refer to something, did he say anything else about them?”

“No, but he did make some reference to ‘The Prince of Destruction.’”

“Mehrunes Dagon? This does not bode well for us. If we have an entire Daedra Lord against us, we must move immediately. The Daedra have ways of knowing secret things in our world, and I would not be surprised if they knew about Martin‘s true identity. You must hurry and bring him to me. I can offer some assistance, and I’m sure others in the Priory can help. Many were former Blades after all. Here, take what you wish from my stores, you will need them in the coming days.” With this he stood up and pulled a key from his pocket. He walked over to a chest and unlocked it for me. “Go now, we haven’t much time to lose. Get to Kvatch and bring Martin back alive. I will keep the Amulet safe until you return.”

I pulled a few potions and scrolls out of the chest and said goodbye to Jauffre. I then went downstairs and asked the old man there for any assistance he could provide. When he heard that I was working for Jauffre he offered me his horse. I gladly accepted, and set off to the stables to find my new means of transportation.

16: Hunter/Gatherer

2006-05-19T14:17:00.000-07:00

I struck out along the road for a while, and was met with no confrontations, but there was two corpses of bandits. Apparently they were taken out by imperial legion patrols. The had nothing useful on them, so I moved on. The road grew monotonous as I walked on, I refused to stop anywhere, but I did get a little sidetracked.

The road was familiar enough for a while, I had traveled on it to get to Cheydinhal after all, but I noticed more things this time around. For one, I noticed all the beautiful flora. I recognized many of them, and harvested the useful reagents that I could. I wandered off the road in this way, picking flowers and drawing out root pulp as I made my way deeper into the woods. Birds flitted from tree to tree above me, and I encountered the occasional wolf, but otherwise my detour was quiet and uneventful. I encountered a herd of deer at some point, and I dispatched them quickly with fireballs. The meat on them was well cooked by the spell, and I pulled it off quite easily. I enjoyed a small snack of venison, but packed most of it away for later use.

I continued on, pulling out mushrooms and monkshood flowers. I passed an old imperial fort ruin, and checked my map to see where I was. Thankfully, I found that I was actually taking a shortcut through the woods, instead of being wildly off course. Soon I was back on the Red Ring Road, and right back on course.

I came upon a small inn, and decided to rest for a little while. I walked into the inn, and was greeted by roasting venison and foaming flagons of beer. Happy hour was apparently here! The inn was packed with people in armor, mostly shoddy bits of fur, and the cacophony was glorious.

I squeezed up to the bar and ordered an ale, which was promptly served to me by the bartender. I paid her and asked what was going on. She was forced to yell over the din, but I found out why these adventurers were here. Apparently a Necromancer had moved into the nearby cave, causing all sorts of undead havoc. I remembered the Mages Guild’s stance against necromancy, and offered to help her. She thanked me and told me where the cave was; just north of the inn itself. I thought I could handle a necromancer den, so I finished my ale and exited the inn.

The cave was a very short distance from the inn, and I pushed my way into the darkness. It was filled with rats and skeletons, which wasn’t at all surprising, and I made short work of them. I found a necromancer deep in the cave, but he didn’t fit the description of the one I was looking for so I assumed that there must be more. I found a key on the Necromancer’s charred corpse, and had to backtrack to find a door that it fit into. I burst in, ready for anything, and received a fireball in the chest for my efforts.

I was thrown back through the doorway, and I rolled myself over to extinguish the flames. I quickly healed myself and got up. I summoned a skeleton, and sent it to deal with the Necromancer’s own minions. It was quickly blown apart by several spells, and I discovered that I was up against two Necromancers! I launched a fireball at the closest one, and it connected with her chest. I was shocked to see the Necromancer simply keep coming at me. She had a very hefty mace, and appeared to have the intention of making my head it’s best friend. I launched another fireball at her, but in my haste I missed, and was forced jump behind a rock pillar as another fireball was launched at me. I fired off another fireball at her from behind my cover, and this one hit its mark as well. Nevertheless, she kept coming, although admittedly slower and more painfully. I jumped out to meet her, and as I brought my axe down to meet her, I was blasted with a strong bolt of electricity from the other Necromancer. I was once again sent flying, this time twitching as I hit the floor. The woman came to finish me off, which gave me the perfect opportunity to freeze her kneecaps solid. She screamed and fell to the floor, her legs completely frozen stiff. I finished her with my axe and ducked behind some roots as the second Necromancer charged. My magicka reserves were drained, and I was in a great deal of suffering, so I quaffed a few potions very quickly, and felt my strength return. I lobbed a fireball at the oncoming Necromancer, who also ducked down behind some roots. I smiled and sent a few fireballs his way, knowing that his roots would catch fire, while mine would absorb the lighting he sent. I heard a satisfying scream, and charged towards his cover, sending Flare spells at him to keep him down. His robe had caught fire, and he was desperately trying to put it out, which gave me a great opportunity to finish him off. A few fireballs silenced him for good, and the world was slightly safer.

I picked through the belongings of the necromancers, and found a few jewels, scrolls, and potions, but not much else. The Cave was empty now, so I decided to return to the inn and collect the reward.

It was night by the time I was back at the inn, and when I went inside I saw that all the adventurers had left. Word travels faster than I do apparently. I approached the bartender and she rewarded me with a small amount of gold, which I took gladly. I asked if there were any rooms available for the night, and received one free of charge. I hefted myself up to the small room and laid myself down.

Looking back at the past few days, I have accomplished quite a lot. My magical skills are returning to me slowly, and I have not forgotten how to use an axe. Things are looking up, as I have already made quite a good bit of gold, and am well stocked for whatever lies in my path, but I cannot help the feeling of dread that I have. I am worried about what will become of the empire without an Emperor. Perhaps Jauffre will find the heir and restore him to the throne, but who knows. Dark times are ahead, I can feel it. I hope that this enigmatic Dark One that I search for is able to give me some answers.

15: No answers, only more questions.

2006-05-14T10:00:00.000-07:00

I hopped out of bed the next morning feeling extremely refreshed. I wandered up to breakfast, but was not particularly hungry. I grabbed an apple and bit into it, but that was the extent of my breakfast. I continued to eat the apple as I went to check on the Dark One, eager to find out what had happened to him. He was reading from a large tome, with Deetsan still asleep in the chair next to his bed. As I came closer, he looked at me with only one eye. I jumped at this, for his other eye was still reading from the tome.

“Good morning, Will. I trust you slept well.”

“Oh, extremely well… umm.” His right eye was still fixed on me, with his left glancing back and forth at the pages.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Does this bother you?” He pointed at his left eye, which continued to read.

“Yes, a little bit.” He blinked, and suddenly both eyes were trained on me. The dark irises were a little unnerving, like looking into a night sky without stars.

“This is a very good book, but it won’t go anywhere. So, I assume you have come with questions?”

The truth was that I had questions, but they refused to form into words I could use. They all fused together into one unspeakable word, something like ‘whaoaeyudoihere.’ Obviously I couldn’t say such nonsense, so I struggled with my words until I had unraveled my thoughts a little. He simply smiled as I mouthed words at him, and I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed.

“I think I know what you are trying to ask me.” I hoped he did, because I certainly didn’t. “You want to know what happened to me. Why did I walk into this guild hall and collapse? Well, I cannot explain it well, but I will let you know that you have been where I was.”

“Oblivion?”

“Correct. But not anything like what you have been through, far worse. We have a similar affliction, you and I. I can explain more, but not now. Time must pass, and walls must crumble. Meet me in Kvatch in two days time, and come prepared.” He smiled, and his eyes returned (both of them) to the tome. He spoke some mystic words, and suddenly he was gone!

I patted at the bed to make sure he wasn’t simply invisible, but he was truly gone. I punched the bed in frustration. Who was he?! Why did he have to be so enigmatic?! Deetsan snored, and I returned to my bed downstairs. I pulled out the map I had bought the other day, and found the city of Kvatch on it. It was easily a day and half’s walk, so I started putting my things together. I had to find the Dark One, I had to know who he was, and know what he knew.

As I readied my pack for the journey, I found the Amulet of Kings, and remembered that I had to travel to Chorrol to find Jauffre. I checked the map once again, and decided it wasn’t too far out of the way, but I would be cutting it close. It looked like it would add about a half day to my travel, bringing it up to two days to get to Kvatch. That was a pessimistic look at how long it would take me, but it turned out to be fairly close to the actual time it took.

I hefted my pack onto my shoulders, and fastened my axe to my waist. Leaving without telling anyone would probably cause some worry, so I told Deetsan that I would be back in a little under a week, and that I was going to find the Dark One. She glanced at the empty bed, but then told me that there would always be a bed open for me here.

I went to the local tavern to stock up on provisions, and set off through the huge gates of Cheydinhal. I would not see them for quite some time.

14: The Dark One

2006-05-13T18:02:00.000-07:00

The next morning was uneventful. I ate a good sized breakfast with the rest of the guild, and we discussed various things, many of them centering on Falcar. I hadn’t really known him, but apparently not many of the guild members were surprised about his departure or his affiliation with the darker side of magic. I felt lost in this conversation about his past, so I excused myself from the table and went out on a stroll.

The morning air was once again refreshing and moist, and as I made my way through the city I breathed deep. My lungs had recovered from the wounds I had received in Oblivion, and the fresh air was very welcome. As I passed the chapel, I realized that I had not prayed in the last few days, so I quietly pushed open the large wooden doors to the chapel.

The inside was dark and smelled of incense. I bowed my head, and walked up to the large, circular altar. I knelt and prayed to the Nine, asking for forgiveness of any sins that I may have committed. I continued to pray, but such things are not fit for a journal. I felt the Nine bless me, and their warmth filled my bones for a moment. Smiling, I stepped out of the chapel and into the mountain air. Compared to the musty air of the chapel, the outside air was like the first breath of spring after a long, grey winter.

I walked back to the guild hall, and when I entered I heard the last bits of breakfast being finished off. I went up to the second floor, where there was a good deal of alchemical apparatuses. I pulled out a sack of reagents that I had collected over the last few days, and sat down to begin my work. I didn’t have much to work with, but I was able to make a few restorative potions in case I got tired during a long day. I still had a small amount of ingredients left over afterwards, so I wrapped them better and rebottled several of the more fluid reagents.

Just as I finished packing away my ingredients, the main door of the guild hall slammed open. A robed figure stumbled in and managed a gasp before collapsing. I immediately ran to the crumpled form and called for help. I placed my hands on his torso and released a small healing spell, and the cool blue glow passed through his form. I did this several more times before rolling him onto his back and lifting off his hood.

Beneath the dirty green hood was the darkest Dunmer I had ever seen. His skin was not the usual dark blue of the Dark Elves, instead it was pitch black and he appeared to have red sores on his face. I wondered if his was naturally that way, or if some cruel enchantment was upon him. Deetsan descended on the Dark Elf and cast a much more powerful Restoration spell on him. When she had finished, she asked me to help her get him into a bed. We took him up to my bed and lay him upon it.

I left Deetsan to watch over him for a while, and cleared some of my belongings to an open bed in the basement. When I returned to check on the patient, I relieved Deetsan and assured her that I would watch over him. She seemed satisfied and went back downstairs, but returned soon after with a warm, damp cloth.

“Sometimes the simplest ways are better than magic.” She gave the cloth to me, as well as a bowl full of more warm water, and I started mopping the Dunmer’s face. I dipped the cloth back into the water and wringed out the excess water, and then placed the cloth on the Dunmer’s forehead.

I watched over the Dark Elf for much of the night, but when Deetsan came to relieve me, I gladly went to my new bed in the basement and collapsed. I fell into a deep sleep, but something awakened me before dawn. I was extremely groggy, but I made my way up to where Deetsan was watching the patient. She had fallen asleep, but the patient was beginning to stir.

“Who are you?” The Dunmer spoke in a voice even deeper than was usual for his race. His eyes were pure red, except for the iris, which was black. I was startled by these glowing orbs, and my eyes immediately drifted to his teeth. They were normal, not fang-like in anyway, but one could never be entirely certain…

“I am Will Syras. You are in the Cheydinhal Mages Guild. We are taking care of you, don’t worry.”

“Ah! The Hero of Kvatch. I am pleased to meet you.”

I wondered at this curious title, I had never been to Kvatch after all, let alone done anything heroic there. “Who are you, exactly?” I asked this question gently, not wanting to make the patient feel pressured.

“I am the Dark One. Do not be puzzled by me. Things will become clear in time. Now, go and sleep, I can tend to myself.” He certainly proved this to be true, as he cast a healing spell upon himself of extreme power. The after effects washed over me, and suddenly my weariness caught up with me. I made my way down to my bed and fell into the deepest sleep of my life.

13: Black Secret

2006-05-12T13:26:00.000-07:00

I awoke at around 7:30 at night, and I started looking around for Falcar. He was not in the guild hall, so I assumed that he was out on the town. I was feeling very refreshed, and went down to the makeshift practice room that the guild hall had. I went through some more basic summoning, and refreshed my Alteration with some shield spells. By the time I had depleted my energies it was 9:00, and I went to look for Falcar again. He was still nowhere to be found, so I decided to ask Deetsan if she had seen him.

“Oh, yes. I’m afraid you must have slept through it all. You must be a deep sleeper.”

“What happened, Deetsan?”

“Oh well… It’s my fault really, I just couldn’t believe Falcar had given the same task that he had given to Vidkun! I didn’t want to lose any more associates. I confronted him after you got back, and well, one thing led to another, and he stormed out.” Deetsan said this casually, as if it were normal for a guild head to simply walk out of his guild hall.

“Deetsan, I have some bad news. Vidkun isn’t missing. He’s dead.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m entirely surprised. He was gone for several weeks after all,” she sighed “what a horrible way to die…”

“And what about my recommendation?” I realized that if Falcar was gone and wouldn’t give me a recommendation, I might never be able to get into the Academy.

“I was getting to that. Listen, I want you to go into Falcar’s quarters and see if you can find anything… unusual. While you’re in there, look for a recommendation. I don’t know if he filled one out for you or not, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Alright, but what if there is no recommendation?”

“Don’t go jumping to conclusions. We’ll cross that swamp when we come to it.”

With that, I set off for the basement. Falcar’s room was locked, but my skills with a lock pick would be enough to pop it open. I glanced around to see if anyone was watching, and, satisfied that no one was there, I picked the lock.

Inside Falcar’s room was everything a Guild Head would need to do his business. I closed the door and searched through his desk and drawers, but found nothing more than an ink well and some shoes. The only place I had left to search was his personal chest, and that was locked. Once again, I was able to pick the lock, and started rummaging through the papers and clothes in the chest. I looked at all the papers, but none of them were a recommendation. As I got to the bottom of the chest, my hand closed around something smooth and very warm. I pulled it out and examined it. It was a black soul gem. Black soul gems are used in the field of necromancy, and I immediately dropped it onto the ground. It seemed to ooze evil power, and I nudged it away from me with my shoe. I then continued to search through the chest, this time more carefully. I found another black soul gem, and wrapped them both up in some blank pieces of paper.

I returned to Deetsan bearing the grim news. “Oh my, It’s worse than I feared. And no recommendation? Hmm, give me the gems, I must include them in my report to the council.”
“And my recommendation?”

“I’ll explain the situation to the council. Under the circumstances, I think they will accept it as a recommendation. After all, I am now the ranking guild member here.”

I returned to my bed, and read a few books from the rather sparse library. I mulled over what Falcar had been doing. Black soul gems! I thought those were only used for very powerful necromancy! I wondered what Falcar had been doing during his frequent absences from the guild hall. I closed my books, and practiced a few shield spells before falling asleep.

12: Dreams of Blood, Wells of Death

2006-05-04T16:28:00.000-07:00

I awoke to sunlight and chirping birds. It was wonderful. The last time I had slept in a bed (if you could call that a bed) I was awakened by guards in the Imperial Prison. I just laid there for a while, feeling the soft sheets envelope me and pull me in and out of light sleep. Finally, I remembered that I had work to do, and managed to pull myself out of the bed.

I stretched my arms out and saw the wounds. They were still there! The spells had closed them, but I could feel them still. It was an interesting sensation, like worms wriggling their way out of my skin, and I couldn’t help but giggle. As I watched them, they started to blister and open before my very eyes. I kept giggling and watched as they spread across my whole body and I collapsed back onto the bed, laughing and rolling in my own blood.

I nearly jumped out of the bed when I truly awoke. I felt my skin and saw that the wounds were closed, and there were very few scars. I breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed back onto the pillow. I then decided that I didn’t want to fall asleep again and have that dream once more, so I got up and headed downstairs.

It was early yet, and most of the guild was still asleep. I picked through the cabinets and found some apples and bread, which I gobbled down. They were delicious, and I found myself digging through barrels full of apples to eat. When I was finished, I realized that I had just eaten 7 apples and two whole loaves of bread. I almost gagged at this extraordinary amount of food, but held it down. I smiled and walked out to get some fresh air.

The sun was low on the horizon still, and I breathed in the early morning air. It was moist and wonderful, and smelled faintly of the mountains. I strolled around Cheydinhal for an hour or so, taking in the beautiful city and enjoying the freedom. The sunlight reflected off of the chapel’s stained-glass, and the grass swished about in the mountain breeze. I stopped and washed my face and arms in the river, but suddenly I was overcome by a feeling of extreme dread.

I jumped back from the river and searched in all directions, looking for the source of this dread, but found nothing. I realized how insane I must look, kicking around in the rushes and frantically peeking into shadows. I shuddered and controlled myself. Obviously the dream I had had was still affecting me; that’s the only explanation.

I returned to the guild hall and found that most of the members had awakened, but Deetsan was still asleep, so my work on a recommendation was postponed. I decided that I might as well practice my magic skills, and went down into the basement to see what training areas it had to offer.

A single training dummy was chained to the ceiling and floor in one corner of the basement, but it was enough for my purposes. I started warming up with some simple Flare spells, and then moved on to Alteration and some light Conjuration. The memory of my accident was still fresh in my mind, so I didn’t try any Daedra, just a simple skeleton. Some might consider this Necromancy, but there is a difference between the two of them.

Conjuration is the opening of gateways to other realms in order to bring forth Daedra or Undead. The Undead are simply pulled from their plane of existence for a short period of time, and no bones or bodies are required to conjure them. Necromancy, on the other hand, is the sustained reanimation of dead bodies, whether they are zombies or skeletons. Necromancy requires a supply of corpses to bind souls to and maintain. Necromancy can create skeletons that last for a very long time, even years, whereas Conjuration of the Undead is restricted to short periods of time. The processes between the two of them are extremely different, and almost mages have come to accept this.

When I had depleted my magicka, I decided to go see Deetsan again. She was awake this time, and when I approached her she seemed fairly happy to see me. Happy until I asked her about the key to the well.

“What?! Oh no, not again. Listen, I have the key, but I'm not going to give it to you until we’ve talked about it.”

“Well, let’s talk now.”

“Not now! I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel comfortable speaking about it while Falcar is within earshot. Later, we will talk.”

I wondered what she was talking about, but agreed and went off to see what spells I could learn. My repertoire of spells was weakened by my time in prison, and I needed to get back up to practice. Spells aren’t cheap though, and I only had enough Septims for one weak Telekinesis spell. I decided that I should sell some of the miscellaneous loot I had come across and see what I could get after that.

I was about to leave the guild hall, but Falcar stepped outside just before I left. I decided this was as good a time as any to speak with Deetsan, so I found her near the alchemy sets and proceeded to ask about the well key.

“Hmm, yes. Falcar is gone now, isn’t he? Good. Listen, the task he assigned you is not an original one. He’s been using it lately to put off people from joining the guild. Who wants to go diving into a well to look for some old piece of jewelry? I thought nothing of it, until poor Vidkun came along. He was the first one to accept the task, and went off to take care of it. He never came back! That was a couple of weeks ago, and I only just got over worrying about Vidkun. Anyway, I’m going to give you the key and something extra. I don’t know how much it will help, but I hope it will be enough.” With that she taught me a spell that not only gave me the ability to breathe underwater, but also lightened my load slightly. Once I had it committed to memory she gave me the key, and as I was leaving she said “Oh, and if you find out anything about Vidkun, I’d be happy to know.”

I walked outside and proceeded around behind the Guild Hall. Right in the middle of the garden behind the hall was the well, and the key fit easily into the huge padlock. The lock seemed unnecessarily large for keeping a well shut, but I thought no more of it. I didn’t want my clothes to get all wet, so I stripped down to my skivvies and laid my clothes on the well. I cast the spell of Buoyancy that Deetsan had taught me, and climbed down the ladder and into the cold waters of the well.

It was dark, and so I cast a simple spell of light to illuminate the darkness. I swam down the well and emerged into a small underwater cavern. The Light spell I had cast an eerie green glow, and when I saw the corpse I tried to scream. The water stopped the sounds of my terror, but it took me a bit of time to recover. There was a bloated corpse floating in the waters of the well, and one of its hands was dragging it downward. I took it to be Vidkun, and I knew immediately what was dragging his hand downwards. I wrenched open his bloated hand and pulled the Ring of Burden from his fingers. It was extremely heavy, and I had to use both hands to support its weight! I started dragging it towards the well exit, but at this point my Light spell went out.

I started to panic, but noticed that there was still an eerie green glow in the room. I looked around and found a very interesting, three-frond plant growing in the soil underwater! It was glowing and humming faintly, and I knew it must be fairly rare, so I carefully harvested the whole plant and attached it to my waist. It provided enough light for me to swim out of the well with the ring in both hands, and I was soon back on dry land. I dropped the ring and dried off with my shirt. I then pulled on my pants, hefted the ring up and carried it into the guild hall.

I went inside and dropped the ring on the first table I came to. I swear that it creaked when the ring landed on it. I then went upstairs and put on a dry shirt. My arms were extremely tired from carrying the ring, and my legs were also tired from swimming with it. I fell onto the bed and took a quick nap.

I woke up 7 hours later. Turns out I was more tired than I realized!

11: Cheydinhal Mages Guild

2006-04-30T08:26:00.000-07:00

When I awoke, I was lying on a soft bed. My body ached from the clawing I had received, but I felt as if I could move again. I pulled myself up onto my side and found myself looking straight into the face of an Argonian. She was asleep in the chair next to my bed, and I wondered if she had been put there to watch over me. She was wearing a very pretty blue dress that complemented the green of her scales quite nicely. She awoke with a start and looked at me.

“Ah, so the Breton awakes. Good afternoon, you had us rather worried there for a while.” She smiled in the rather frightening way that Argonians do. I cleared my throat and started to speak, but she shook her head and told me it would not be a good idea. “Whatever attacked you clawed you up pretty bad. I would think the wounds aren’t totally healed yet. We called in a healer from the temple, but they were busy with a messenger or something.”

“Who are you?” I managed to cough out the words and decided that the Argonian had been right about speaking. My chest felt like it was on fire.

“I am Deetsan. I dabble in spells and alchemy here at the guild. Yes, you are in the guild hall right now. We didn’t want to move you too far. Here, drink this potion, it will make things better while I go tell the other guild members.”

I drank from the bottle she gave me and my eyelids became extremely heavy. I smiled at nothing and fell back onto the bed.

When I awoke, I found myself surrounded by people. Apparently I had become the talk of the town! Apparently I looked a little overwhelmed, because Deetsan pushed some of them back and told them to give me some room. I spoke, but my chest did not burst into flames again.

“Who are you people?” A few of them chuckled, most of them smiled, but one High Elf near the back of the crowd scowled at me.

“We are the Cheydinhal Mages Guild. I think this is all of us anyway.” This came from a tall Redguard who looked as if he had only a few years left. He seemed jovial though, and magic has a way of prolonging one’s life. “I am Treyvond.” He then went around and introduced me to each of the guild members. When he had finished with the formalities, I noticed that the scowling High Elf had disappeared. I decided not to push them, because I had received such a warm welcome.

I spent the rest of the day healing myself with my own spells, and by dusk I was walking around very easily. I decided now would be as good a time as any to try and join the guild, so I approached Deetsan to ask for membership.

“Oh no, you aren’t looking for me. You want Falcar, he’s the chapter head of this guild hall. Be careful around him though, he didn’t really like having you brought in to be healed.” I thanked her and proceeded down the stairs looking for Falcar. I didn’t remember him from the introductions, but I knew exactly who I was looking for.

“What do you want? Haven’t you worn our hospitality thin enough yet?” The scowling High Elf didn’t seem to have mellowed out any, but I pushed forward. “What?! You? In the guild? Don’t you think you’re a little bit… Slow?” I kept my temper from flaring up and told him I was somewhat adept at magic. “Hmm, well, if you’re sure. Fine, you’re now an associate in the Mages’ Guild. Not that you will ever get any higher in the ranks.” he looked at me for a moment and then said, “Well?”

“I know about recommendations, Falcar. I’d like to receive yours.”

He smiled faintly. “Very well. Not long ago I was studying an interesting Ring of Burden. However, the last associate seems to have misplaced it. If I didn’t know better, I would say he had purposely thrown it down the well in the back! I want you to retrieve it for me. Then I shall see about your recommendation.” He finished and smirked at me. I wondered what had changed his mood so suddenly. “Before you go, you’ll need a key to the well. I believe Deetsan has a copy. Right, off you go now.”

It was late, and I decided that the recommendation could wait until daylight, so I went up to the bed I had been occupying for the duration of my healing process, and pulled out my journal. Now I lie here and wonder what I should tell the other guild members. I wonder if I should tell them what really gave me these wounds. I doubt they would believe me. Perhaps I should gain their trust a little bit more. Now, I must sleep. The day has been long and my wounds still have some healing to do.

10: Enter Oblivion

2006-04-29T19:04:00.000-07:00

I had been walking from the church to the Mages’ Guild. The birds were chirping and the sun was bright. Nothing was out of place, and no one paid any more attention to me than usual. But suddenly I felt magicka. Raw, undirected, powerful magicka. It was saturating the area around me, and the air tasted like it usually does after a lighting storm. Suddenly, I realized what it was:

“Oblivion!”

I was pulled off my feet and yanked forward by my stomach. It was like someone had grabbed me by the belly button and pulled me through the barriers between Tamriel and Oblivion. Suddenly, I was spinning through some strange empty space. And then, everything was blackness.

I could feel myself break into Oblivion when my shoulders were nearly ripped out of their sockets. I sprawled onto the ashen ground and shuddered. My mind was disconnected, and my thoughts were random and insane. When my mind did return to me, I looked around me for the first time.

Horror is the only single word I could use to describe it. Oblivion was the most horrifying thing I had ever seen in my life. The ground was made of ash, and the air consisted of a large amount of it too. Flames were everywhere, and the air reeked of not only ash, but blood and death. Huge, bloody spikes rose from the ash, and from them hung rotting corpses. I started to retch, and as I turned away from the horrendous scene, I found myself face to hideous face with a small Scamp. It opened its mouth to snarl at me, and received a mouthful of vomit for its efforts.

It gurgled and stumbled backwards. I quickly gripped its face and froze the vomit to its skin, then drew my mace and smashed it across the Daedra’s horrid face. It died, but I knew it would not be long before it was back. Daedra are immortal, and killing their physical form only banishes them for a short while. I wiped my face and turned to face a small crowd of Scamps!

I braced myself, and as three of the Scamps detached themselves from the group and rushed towards me. They were uncoordinated, and each attacked individually instead of a more unified assault. I brought my mace up into the chest of the first scamp and heard the crack of its ribcage. The second Scamp launched at me and knocked me off me feet, but I was able to throw it off me and into a pool of lava just behind me. It squealed and melted before my eyes, and I was confident it would not come back for some time. The third scamp observed me for a moment, then a fireball materialized in its hand and it threw it at me.

I raised my hands, and just before the fireball struck them I let loose a blast of frost that neutralized most of the fireball. I then lunged at the Scamp and smashed its small skull in with my mace. I then feel to one knee and caught my breath. There were four Scamps remaining in the group, and I did not know if I could face them. I scribbled a note into my journal, quaffed a restorative potion and felt my limbs strengthen, and I was able to get to my feet. The Scamps had been watching me fight their smaller friends, and now they snarled and moved in to attack. They were unified in their movements, and I was soon surrounded and helpless.

The first Scamp attacked from behind me, and I felt its jaws close on my shoulder. I screamed and tried to pull it off of me, but the other Scamps saw their opportunity and rushed in to bite and tear at my flesh. I began screaming, and as they ripped through me, I was suddenly spinning again. The empty void filled me once more, and I was pulled back into Cheydinhal. I collapsed onto the steps of the Mages’ Guild and all was darkness…