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The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
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The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 12:24 am
First topic message reminder :
Welcome to the wonderful world of TES Skyrim. You know it by now, click the thumbnail to view the full-size screenhot and click the link to view the hidden screenshot I can't have displaued here. Have fun and enjoy the story. Let us begin...
My name is Bronkah Dovahkiir. This is my story. It Begins where it might have ended -- if fate had not intervened...
The Imperials had caught Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm and leader of the rebellion. The civil war could have ebded this day. But the black dragon had other ideas...
Here we were on the road to Helgen, to our execution and on to Sovngarde...
"Sic transit gloria Imperii - So passes the glory of the Empire", I thought to myself.
I was called up to the block after the brave Stormcloak Soldier. But then, out of seemingly nowhere...
The dragon saved my Life, but I was far from safe yet...
I followed Ralof, the Stormcloak Soldier into the keep...
We made it out together. Now we were on the road to the village of Riverwood...
Welcome to the wonderful world of TES Skyrim. You know it by now, click the thumbnail to view the full-size screenhot and click the link to view the hidden screenshot I can't have displaued here. Have fun and enjoy the story. Let us begin...
My name is Bronkah Dovahkiir. This is my story. It Begins where it might have ended -- if fate had not intervened...
The Imperials had caught Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm and leader of the rebellion. The civil war could have ebded this day. But the black dragon had other ideas...
Here we were on the road to Helgen, to our execution and on to Sovngarde...
"Sic transit gloria Imperii - So passes the glory of the Empire", I thought to myself.
I was called up to the block after the brave Stormcloak Soldier. But then, out of seemingly nowhere...
The dragon saved my Life, but I was far from safe yet...
I followed Ralof, the Stormcloak Soldier into the keep...
We made it out together. Now we were on the road to the village of Riverwood...
_________________
Nemo sine vitio est.
Wotan- Posts : 3379
Join date : 2020-04-27
Age : 58
Location : Danderyd / Sweden
Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 8:22 pm
I approached the female dragon...
"Hi kent kos saviik do dii fron. Genazend," Malafax said. "Ahnok, Zu'u los Dovahkiin," I introduced myself. "Ahnok, Dovahkiin." "Zu'u los gein wo hel hin fron stin." "Do rahlo, dii nox," she said. "Nii los zin. Zu'u hind hi ahrk hin fron pruzah." "Nox hi, Dovahkiin. Zu'u mindoraan hi yah urid?" "We just wanted to help... I know what it's like to be separated from family," Mirai said. "Wo los hi?" "Ulaakei, Malafax, rek los mon do diist," Rhegul said. "Ek? Fahvos drey hi drun ek het?" "Mu vis hiif ek, jaaril ek. Rek kent ni daal wak mok." "Hmm, Zu'u koraav. Hi los viilt, ruz mu vis hiif ek. Waan hi mind ek un rot, rek vis for mii. Nii los pruzaan mu vis miik," Malafax said. "Do you know how to speak Dovahzuul, miil?" Rhegul asked. "Dragon...? Uhh, no," Mirai said. "You have the Power within you, just yet to be released. I can teach you a few Words that will help which also may serve as your reward." "How do you know so much about me...?" "I knew your father and the Power he wields. A special Power was passed on to you. It is a different Power from the Dragonborn, not the thu'um but the Lovass. Speak these Words and either of us will come to your aid. Speaking these Words will also further your Powers the more you do so. Hil Vahzen Mirodah, your enemies are our enemies," Rhegul said. "Fun niin do un dezmah, Rhegul," Malafax said. "Ah, yes, there is one more thing, Dovahkiin. If you would further aid us, come speak wuíth me," he said. Then Rhegul took flight and landed a Little higher up...
"Do you need help with something else?" I wondered. "Yes... but it is not an easy request. Although we were brought back from the Powers of Alduin... we do not agree with his ways. My kin and I... we follow a different path, however futile it may be. As it is simply Malafax and I, we require more support. It is a shame Dovah have to die in the name of Alduin... and out of fear, none of my brethren dare oppose him. We aim to change this. If there is anyone capable of this task, it is the Dovahkiin and the carrier of the Lovaas," Rhegul said. "What do you need from me?" "The Lovaas has a special purpsose, a Power to calm dovah... a Power to make them open-minded. But only if their will is already low. Dovahkiin, you must make them listen and only then will the Power of the Lovass affect their minds." "How do I do that?" I wondered. "My kind are a stubborn kind, all they know is Power through violence. Ground them and only then will they be susceptible to the Lovass. Your mate can share the Lovass with you to bring the dovah down, the rest is up to her." "I understand." "If they refuse to listen, then consider them lost to our cause. You may do as you wish in that case," Rhegul said.
"So, ready to bring down Dragons?" I asked Mirai. "Fighting dragons with my singing? As crazy as this all sounds... yeah! Just tell me when you need my Power," she said.
"Hi kent kos saviik do dii fron. Genazend," Malafax said. "Ahnok, Zu'u los Dovahkiin," I introduced myself. "Ahnok, Dovahkiin." "Zu'u los gein wo hel hin fron stin." "Do rahlo, dii nox," she said. "Nii los zin. Zu'u hind hi ahrk hin fron pruzah." "Nox hi, Dovahkiin. Zu'u mindoraan hi yah urid?" "We just wanted to help... I know what it's like to be separated from family," Mirai said. "Wo los hi?" "Ulaakei, Malafax, rek los mon do diist," Rhegul said. "Ek? Fahvos drey hi drun ek het?" "Mu vis hiif ek, jaaril ek. Rek kent ni daal wak mok." "Hmm, Zu'u koraav. Hi los viilt, ruz mu vis hiif ek. Waan hi mind ek un rot, rek vis for mii. Nii los pruzaan mu vis miik," Malafax said. "Do you know how to speak Dovahzuul, miil?" Rhegul asked. "Dragon...? Uhh, no," Mirai said. "You have the Power within you, just yet to be released. I can teach you a few Words that will help which also may serve as your reward." "How do you know so much about me...?" "I knew your father and the Power he wields. A special Power was passed on to you. It is a different Power from the Dragonborn, not the thu'um but the Lovass. Speak these Words and either of us will come to your aid. Speaking these Words will also further your Powers the more you do so. Hil Vahzen Mirodah, your enemies are our enemies," Rhegul said. "Fun niin do un dezmah, Rhegul," Malafax said. "Ah, yes, there is one more thing, Dovahkiin. If you would further aid us, come speak wuíth me," he said. Then Rhegul took flight and landed a Little higher up...
"Do you need help with something else?" I wondered. "Yes... but it is not an easy request. Although we were brought back from the Powers of Alduin... we do not agree with his ways. My kin and I... we follow a different path, however futile it may be. As it is simply Malafax and I, we require more support. It is a shame Dovah have to die in the name of Alduin... and out of fear, none of my brethren dare oppose him. We aim to change this. If there is anyone capable of this task, it is the Dovahkiin and the carrier of the Lovaas," Rhegul said. "What do you need from me?" "The Lovaas has a special purpsose, a Power to calm dovah... a Power to make them open-minded. But only if their will is already low. Dovahkiin, you must make them listen and only then will the Power of the Lovass affect their minds." "How do I do that?" I wondered. "My kind are a stubborn kind, all they know is Power through violence. Ground them and only then will they be susceptible to the Lovass. Your mate can share the Lovass with you to bring the dovah down, the rest is up to her." "I understand." "If they refuse to listen, then consider them lost to our cause. You may do as you wish in that case," Rhegul said.
"So, ready to bring down Dragons?" I asked Mirai. "Fighting dragons with my singing? As crazy as this all sounds... yeah! Just tell me when you need my Power," she said.
_________________
Nemo sine vitio est.
Wotan- Posts : 3379
Join date : 2020-04-27
Age : 58
Location : Danderyd / Sweden
Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 8:25 pm
"There's something I'd like to talk to you about. Have you got a minute? Don't get mad at me now, but when I replied to a letter my mother sent me a while ago, I told her... about us, I mean," Vilja said. "So, what did she say?" I wondered. "She wasactually very happy for my sake. And she says she'd like to meet you one day. Furthermore, she enclosed a Little gift for you... She said you might need this when traveling with me. I'm not sure what she meant by that, though. There was a message from my father, too. He said that if he ever met you, he would break every bone in your body. But I'm pretty sure that was just a joke."
"I gave the cures to Colette and Danica. They seemed pleased," I said. "Good. You did a very good thing, helping me. If you had seen that poor woman during her illness... and to imagine Andie's mother in the same way... It was just heartbreaking. No wonder she felt bad. But at least it's all behind us now. I hope the dead can rest in Peace. Why don't you talk to her. I Think she's ready to join you again," Tatiyana said.
Anduniel had already left the College the day before. She was probably heading back to her meadery. I would have to look for her there...
Well, Anduniel wasn't at the meadery. She was actually waiting at Dragonstead...
"I've given out the cure. What did you learn from Tatiyana?" I said. "She taught me a spell that will cure diseases. She was able to use her alchmy skill along with her notes we found to create the spell. Now, if one of us catches a disease, I can cure it! Then we wouldn't need bother with potions or shrines," she said.
_________________
Nemo sine vitio est.
Wotan- Posts : 3379
Join date : 2020-04-27
Age : 58
Location : Danderyd / Sweden
Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 8:31 pm
After a short deliberation, it was decided we would go and find the fourth and last book of chants for Vilja. We were heading to Blind Cliff Cave...
Of course, the Place was littered with them...
The "Madmen" of the Reach: A Cultural Treatise on the Forsworn by Arrianus Arius Imperial Scholar
Since the legendary victory of Tiber Septim over the "barbarian natives" in the Battle of Old Hroldan, Imperial and Nord scholarship has cast the people of the Reach as little more than savages, prone to irrational fits of violence, worshipping old, heretical gods, and fetishizing beasts and nature spirits that any civilized person would best well avoid. In truth, these accounts are little more than "victor's essays," a perspective narrowed by the Empire's constant strife with the ancient, proud people that lived in this land far before Tiber Septim walked the soil of Tamriel. In light of this, I hope to create a more complete, accurate, and fair assessment of a group that has long suffered under the role of "enemy," "troublemakers," and "them."
Let us begin with the Forsworn, the so-called "madmen" of the Reach. The Imperial Legion classifies them as little more than brigands, noting their constant raids and ambushes within the Hold. But none of their military reports asks the question of "why?" If they were merely a group of bandits, surely they would be focused on acquiring gold and minimizing deaths among their own. But the opposite is true in Forsworn attacks. Large sums of coin are often left behind, and their fighters easily throw away their lives rather than risk capture by Imperial soldiers.
It is this incongruity that led me to Markarth, the capital city of the Reach, in search of answers. There, I met one of the native peoples, an old woman who preferred to not be named in my writings. She told me of her family's long history. How she believes they originally came from High Rock, home of the Bretons (which would explain the similar faces and stature of the two peoples). How the Nords came and took their lands, their gods, and their culture from them. When asked about the Forsworn, the old woman would say that they are the "real" men and women of the Reach: those that refused to give in to the Nords. Those that still practiced the ancient traditions that the rest of their people had abandoned in exchange for peace.
In time, I was able to create trust with many more natives in my search that corroborated the old woman's story. By chance, one of them arranged a meeting between myself and what I thought was an elder member of his village. I was shocked to find that I was led to a camp, filled with the animal skulls, severed heads, and still beating hearts that I had read about from the military reports back in the Imperial City. There, I met Cortoran, a Forsworn, who seemed amused at the prospect of me writing down his story. Which I quote in full below:
"You want to know who the Forsworn are? We are the people who must pillage our own land. Burn our own ground. We are the scourge of the Nords. The axe that falls in the dark. The scream before the gods claim your soul. We are the true sons and daughters of the Reach. The spirits and hags have lived here from the beginning, and they are on our side. Go back. Go back and tell your Empire that we will have our own kingdom again. And on that day, we will be the ones burying your dead in a land that is no longer yours."
It was surprising how large the cavern was. But we soon found the route to our objective...
We were about to enter the tower. What awaited us inside was a surprise, and a story for another day...
Of course, the Place was littered with them...
The "Madmen" of the Reach: A Cultural Treatise on the Forsworn by Arrianus Arius Imperial Scholar
Since the legendary victory of Tiber Septim over the "barbarian natives" in the Battle of Old Hroldan, Imperial and Nord scholarship has cast the people of the Reach as little more than savages, prone to irrational fits of violence, worshipping old, heretical gods, and fetishizing beasts and nature spirits that any civilized person would best well avoid. In truth, these accounts are little more than "victor's essays," a perspective narrowed by the Empire's constant strife with the ancient, proud people that lived in this land far before Tiber Septim walked the soil of Tamriel. In light of this, I hope to create a more complete, accurate, and fair assessment of a group that has long suffered under the role of "enemy," "troublemakers," and "them."
Let us begin with the Forsworn, the so-called "madmen" of the Reach. The Imperial Legion classifies them as little more than brigands, noting their constant raids and ambushes within the Hold. But none of their military reports asks the question of "why?" If they were merely a group of bandits, surely they would be focused on acquiring gold and minimizing deaths among their own. But the opposite is true in Forsworn attacks. Large sums of coin are often left behind, and their fighters easily throw away their lives rather than risk capture by Imperial soldiers.
It is this incongruity that led me to Markarth, the capital city of the Reach, in search of answers. There, I met one of the native peoples, an old woman who preferred to not be named in my writings. She told me of her family's long history. How she believes they originally came from High Rock, home of the Bretons (which would explain the similar faces and stature of the two peoples). How the Nords came and took their lands, their gods, and their culture from them. When asked about the Forsworn, the old woman would say that they are the "real" men and women of the Reach: those that refused to give in to the Nords. Those that still practiced the ancient traditions that the rest of their people had abandoned in exchange for peace.
In time, I was able to create trust with many more natives in my search that corroborated the old woman's story. By chance, one of them arranged a meeting between myself and what I thought was an elder member of his village. I was shocked to find that I was led to a camp, filled with the animal skulls, severed heads, and still beating hearts that I had read about from the military reports back in the Imperial City. There, I met Cortoran, a Forsworn, who seemed amused at the prospect of me writing down his story. Which I quote in full below:
"You want to know who the Forsworn are? We are the people who must pillage our own land. Burn our own ground. We are the scourge of the Nords. The axe that falls in the dark. The scream before the gods claim your soul. We are the true sons and daughters of the Reach. The spirits and hags have lived here from the beginning, and they are on our side. Go back. Go back and tell your Empire that we will have our own kingdom again. And on that day, we will be the ones burying your dead in a land that is no longer yours."
It was surprising how large the cavern was. But we soon found the route to our objective...
We were about to enter the tower. What awaited us inside was a surprise, and a story for another day...
_________________
Nemo sine vitio est.
Wotan- Posts : 3379
Join date : 2020-04-27
Age : 58
Location : Danderyd / Sweden
Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 8:38 pm
There was a hagraven locked up in the cage...
"Petra! Evil Petra put me here, stole my Tower. Hate her, chew her bones! Let me out, kind, kind meat," she said. "Why would I release you?" I wondered. "Because, because you are such a nice breton, yes!" "What? I'm no Breton." "Oh. Yes. You all look the same," she said. "what do I get if I free you?" I asked. "Ah, I have a prety staff. Help me find Petra, wring her neck, pluck her Eyes. Take my prize staff, I just want my Tower back! Do you like my pretty tower?"
I picked the lock...
"Yes, kind morsel. Let us go up, and mind Melka on the way," the hagraven said.
"Press only middle button! Clever trick, yes? Nobody ever thinks of the middle," Melka said.
We followed Melka...
"Petra, you traitorous grouse! Die! Melka said. "Did you hear something?" a Forsworn pillager said.
After a short battle the enemies lay dead...
"Such a kind nibble you are," Melka said. "What will you do now?" I wondered. "Live in my tower, roots in my home. Mix pretty poisons and collect shiny eyeballs, yes. I spit o you, dead sister." "You have your tower back. I expect a reward." "Yes, yes. My staff, take it. Kill something pretty with it," she said. "I need to do some shopping. You can tag along if you wish," Vilja said. "It's not a good time for shopping. It will have to wait," I told her. "Well, if you insist... In a way I can understand the hostility og hagravens. I mean, women do not like to be visited when not at their best. And hagravens, well... My mom always says that if you feel happy, you'll look pretty. And I do feel happy today," she said.
Hmm... this wasn't the main exit. We had to jump down to the floor below and then use the stairs. But it saved us the trouble of going back through the tower.
_________________
Nemo sine vitio est.
Wotan- Posts : 3379
Join date : 2020-04-27
Age : 58
Location : Danderyd / Sweden
Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 8:40 pm
We left the Tower behind and made our way to Solitude...
"Ah! The last Book of Chants. I hope it was not too awakward to track it down? The College had decided that on top of your reward, we also want to give you a special gift to show our appreciation. I hope you like poetry? As for Vilja, she is now woerthy to join the College and is therby a certified bard. It won't mean a huge difference for the two of you, of course, but it may be that she will later be appointed to perform at certain events. And if you are looking for further ways to help the College, I already have some tasks that need to be done. As for the chants..." Wilbert said. "What about the chants for Vilja?" I said. "I have evaluated and written down my conclusions from the first Three Books of Chants that you have brought me. You should give the book to Vilja, and I am sure that she will be able to learn some of the simpler chants. As for the fourth Book of Chants, I have understood that it will only contain chants on a level, well, way beyond what Vilja can handle. But, who knows, if the two of you continue to do tasks for the College, we might find further chants that she could learn to use. So, this book is for her. Give it to her, and I'm sure it will be useful for both of you. Again, many thanks for your help. I hope we will meet again soon."
"Thank you so much for helping me find the Books of Chants. I must admit that I would never have managed to accomplish this on my own," Vilja said. "It has been a pleasure," I said. "Oh, you really are such a sweetheart! And I'm so grateful! Finally, I can call myself a bard - a real bard! It will be really interesting to study the Chants that Wilbert put together for me. But I guess it will take a little while Before I can use them. I'll start to study them at once, and then I'll tell you when I'm Confident enough," she said.
_________________
Nemo sine vitio est.
Wotan- Posts : 3379
Join date : 2020-04-27
Age : 58
Location : Danderyd / Sweden
Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 8:44 pm
"I got a letter today, from my old friend Britt. Did I ever tell you about her? We were childhood friends, but later on she and her family moved to the Lokken Island, and now she is working there as a castle maid. Anyway, she told me that she is in love, too, with one of the town guards. And he really sems to be extraordinary... Guess what... he brought her a wonderful love poem that he had asked a bard to write for him. Isn't that romantic?" vilja said. "Why didn't he write the poem, himself, if he's so extraordinary?" I wondered. "Oh, don't be silly. He's not a bard like... well, he's not a bard, and only a bard can write a good poem... at least I Think so. Still, it was really sweet of him... Oh, it must be wonderful to receive such a poem from the one you love." "I will make you a love poem on the fly." "Oh sweetheart! Let me hear..." she said. "You are like the breath of spring..." I began. "Lovely!" "Your love for me means everything..." "Oh, sweetheart..." "You are as sweet as strawberry pie..." I said, thinking back to my childhood when my mother had made such a pie from those very rare berries. "Strawberries... mmmm... I love strawberries," Vilja said. "If I lose you, then I know I'll die." "Oh, sweetheart. You'll never lose me. I'll be here tomorrow and the next day and the next day for as long as you wish..."
We stayed at the Winking Skeever for the night...
We set out after breakfast. I was certain I knew where to find Another page of the book for Mirai. Her desription of the Place had been very detailed and I recalled being there once, though it was quite some time ago...
I had heard that the Thalmor had an embassy in the vicinity of Solitude but I never knew where... Until now when we just stumbled upon the place while en route to our destination. We surprised a group of Thalmor outside. No one at the Embassy seemed to have noticed - which was probably a good thing.
_________________
Nemo sine vitio est.
Wotan- Posts : 3379
Join date : 2020-04-27
Age : 58
Location : Danderyd / Sweden
Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 8:50 pm
"We showed that dragon not to mess with us, didn't we!" I said. "It's so nice to just talk a Little, you and I... I was just thinking... would you be interested if I told you a Little about myself?" Vilja said. "Please, go ahead." "I like the nature in the Rift, with all the Beautiful birches. Still, I Think Falkreath is the hold that reminds me the most of Solstheim. It's the pine Forests, you see. We have plenty of them where I come from. And just like here, there are plenty of wolves in the Forests. But the wolves back home are easier to tame. I once had a tame wolf, Hagbard. He was just a puppy when my father brought him home. You see, my father had been out hunting, and then he found Hagbard and him mom in a trap-hole. His mom was badly injured, Dad had to shoot her. But little Hagbard was not injured at all. So, he brought the puppy home with him. Oh, how I adored him! He was so tiny, I had to feed him with milk. But he grew fast, and as he got older, he became my steady companion. Wherever I went, Hagbard was at my side. Then one day, when he was seven years old, he disappeared. I searched the Forests for many, many Days. Finally, I found him. Dead. He had been shot with poisonous Arrows. Oh, how I wish that I had found him earlier! Maybe I could have saved his Life! I never wanted Another wolf after that. How could anyone take Hagbard's Place? Now, a dog is something completely different. It is something special with having a pet, isn't it?" she said.
We continued on our way. When we got there and I searched the Place I found an interesting book...
[size=32]Beggar by Revan
Eslaf Erol was the last of the litter of five born to the Queen of the prosperous Nordic kingdom of Erolgard, Lahpyrcopa, and her husband, the King of Erolgard, Ytluaf. During pregnancy, the Queen had been more than twice as wide as she was tall, and the act of delivery took three months and six days after it had begun. It is perhaps understandable that the Lahpyrcopa elected, upon expelling Eslaf to frown, say, 'Good riddance,' and die.
Like many Nords, Ytluaf did not care very much for his wife and less for his children. His subjects were puzzled, therefore, when he announced that he would follow the ancient tradition of his people of Atmora of following his beloved spouse to the grave. They had not thought they were particularly in love, nor were they aware that such a tradition existed. Still, the simple people were grateful, for the little royal drama alleviated their boredom, which was and is a common problem in the more obscure parts of northern Skyrim, particularly in wintertide.
He gathered his household staff and his five fat, bawling little heirs in front of him, and divided his estate. To his son Ynohp, he gave his title; to his son Laernu, he gave his land; to his son Suoibud, he gave his fortune; to his daughter Laicifitra, he gave his army. Ytluaf's advisors had suggested he keep the inheritance together for the good of the kingdom, but Ytluaf did not particularly care for his advisors, or the kingdom, for that matter. Upon making his announcement, he drew his dagger across his throat.
One of the nurses, who was rather shy, finally decided to speak as the King's life ebbed away. 'Your highness, you forgot your fifth child, little Eslaf.'
Good Ytluaf groaned. It is somewhat hard to concentrate with blood gushing from one's throat, after all. The King tried in vain to think of something to bequeath, but there was nothing left.
Finally he sputtered, irritably, 'Eslaf should have taken something then' and died.
That a babe but a few days old was expected to demand his rightful inheritance was arguably unfair. But so Eslaf Erol was given his birthright with his father's dying breath. He would have nothing, but what he had taken.
Since no one else would have him, the shy nurse, whose name was Drusba, took the baby home. It was a decrepit little shack, and over the years that followed, it became more and more decrepit. Unable to find work, Drusba sold all of her furnishings to buy food for little Eslaf. By the time he was old enough to walk and talk, she had sold the walls and the roof as well, so they had nothing but a floor to call home. And if you've ever been to Skyrim, you can appreciate that that is scarcely sufficient.
Drusba did not tell Eslaf the story of his birth, or that his brothers and sister were leading quite nice lives with their inheritances, for, as we have said, she was rather shy, and found it difficult to broach the subject. She was so painfully shy, in fact, that whenever he asked any questions about where he came from, Drusba would run away. That was more or less her answer to everything, to flee.
In order to communicate with her at all, Eslaf learned how to run almost as soon as he could walk. He couldn't keep up with his adopted mother at first, but in time he learned to go toe-heel toe-heel if he anticipated a short but fast sprint, and heel-toe heel-toe if it seemed Drusba was headed for a long distance marathon flight. He never did get all the answers he needed from her, but Eslaf did learn how to run.
The kingdom of Erolgard had, in the years that Eslaf was growing, become quite a grim place. King Ynohp did not have a treasury, for Suoibud had been given that; he did not have any property for income, for Laernu had been given that; he did not have an army to protect the people, for Laicifitra had been given that. Furthermore, as he was but a child, all decisions in the kingdom went through Ynohp's rather corrupt council. It had become a bureaucratic exploitative land of high taxes, rampant crime, and regular incursions from neighboring kingdoms. Not a particular unusual situation for a kingdom of Tamriel, but an unpleasant one nonetheless.
The time finally came when the taxcollector arrived to Drusba's hovel, such as it was, to collect the only thing he could - the floor. Rather than protest, the poor shy maid ran away, and Eslaf never saw her again.
Without a home or a mother, Eslaf did not know what to do. He had grown accustomed to the cold open air in Drusba's shack, but he was hungry.
'May I have a piece of meat?' he asked the butcher down the street. 'I'm very hungry.'
The man had known the boy for years, often spoke to his wife about how sorry he felt for him, growing up in a home with no ceilings or walls. He smiled at Eslaf and said, 'Go away, or I'll hit you.'
Eslaf hurriedly left the butcher and went to a nearby tavern. The tavernkeeper had been a former valet in the king's court and knew that the boy was by right a prince. Many times, he had seen the poor ragged lad in the streets, and sighed at the way fate had treated him.
'May I have something to eat?' Eslaf asked this tavernkeeper. 'I'm very hungry.'
'You're lucky I don't cook you up and eat you,' replied the tavernkeeper.
Eslaf hurriedly left the tavern. For the rest of the day, the boy approached the good citizens of Erolgard, begging for food. One person had thrown something at him, but it turned out to be an inedible rock.
As night fell, a raggedy man came up to Eslaf and, without saying a word, handed him a piece of fruit and a piece of dried meat. The lad took it, wide-eyed, and as he devoured it, he thanked the man very sweetly.
'If I see you begging on the streets tomorrow,' the man growled. 'I'll kill you myself. There are only so many beggars we of the guild allow in any one town, and you make it one too many. You're ruining business.'
It was a good thing Eslaf Erol knew how to run. He ran all night.
Eslaf Erol's story is continued in the book Thief. [/size]
I turned to my Young companion. "Got the 3rd one," I said. "Okay, hand it over. Why am I doing this again...?" she said.
"Is it getting better?" I asked. "Yeah.... that wasn't so bad at all," Mirai said. "Uh... you look a Little blue." "Hm? I don't feel any different... how noticeable is it?" "You look like an Ice Wraith!" I said. "What? No way, you're exaggerating! Hm, I kinda like it. It makes me look fearsome, don't you Think? I wonder what the next page will do," she said.
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Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 8:55 pm
"Falk Firebeard seems to be very protective towards Jarl Elisif, doesn't he?" Vilja said. She didn't give me a chance to reply Before she continued talking. "My mother may be much better at alchemy than I, but I do have one huge advantage! She has a lousy sense of location, whereas I, well, I never get lost! I Always find the Place I'm heading to. Well, sooner or later, that is..." she said.
While we were trudging through the marshland, I found this book...
The Exodus by Waughin Jarth
Vralla was a little girl, beautiful and sweet-natured, beautiful and smart, beautiful and energetic. Everything that her parents had dreamed she would be. As perfect as she was, they could not help but have dreams for her. Her father, a bit of a social climber named Munthen, thought she would marry well, perhaps become a Princess of the Empire. Her mother, an insecure woman named Cinneta, thought she would reach greatness on her own, as a knight or a sorceress. As much as they wanted the very best for their daughter, they argued about what her fate would be, but both were wrong. Instead of growing up, she grew very ill.
The Temples told them to give up hope, and The Mages Guild told them that what afflicted Vralla was so rare, so deadly, that there was no cure. She was doomed to die, and soon.
When the great institutions of the Empire failed them, Munthen and Cinneta sought out the witches, the sorcerer hermits, and the other hidden, secret powers that lurk in the shadows of civilization.
'I can think of only one place you can go,' said an old herbalist they found in the most remote peaks of the Wrothgarian Mountains. 'The Mages Guild at Olenveld.'
'But we have already been to the Mages Guild,' protested Munthen. 'They couldn't help us.'
'Go to Olenveld," the herbalist insisted. "And tell no one that you're going there.'
It was not easy to find Olenveld, as it did not appear on any modern map. In a bookseller's in Skyrim, however, they found it in a historic book of cartography from the 2nd Era. In the yellowed pages, there was Olenveld, a city on an island in the northern coast, a day's sail in summertide from Winterhold.
Bundling their pale daughter against the chill of the ocean wind, the couple set sail, using the old map as their only guide. For nearly two days, they were at sea, circling the same position, wondering if they were the victim of a cruel trick. And then they saw it.
In the mist of crashing waves were twin crumbled statues framing the harbor, long forgotten Gods or heroes. The ships within were half-sunk, rotten shells along the docks. Munthen brought his ship in, and the three walked into the deserted island city.
Taverns with broken windows, a plaza with a dried-up well, shattered palaces and fire-blackened tenements, barren shops and abandoned stables, all desolate, all still, but for the high keening ocean wind that whistled through the empty places. And gravestones. Every road and alley was lined, and crossed, and crossed again with memorials to the dead.
Munthen and Cinneta looked at one another. The chill they felt had little to do with the wind. Then they looked at Vralla, and continued on to their goal - the Mages Guild of Olenveld.
Candlelight glistened through the windows of the great dark building, but it brought them little relief to know that someone was alive in the island of death. They knocked on the door, and steeled themselves against whatever horror they might face within.
The door was opened by a rather plump middle-aged Nord woman with frizzy blond hair. Standing behind her, a meek-looking bald Nord about her age, a shy teenage Breton couple, still very pimply and awkward, and a very old, apple-cheeked Breton man who grinned with delight at the visitors.
'Oh, my goodness,' said the Nord woman, all afluster. 'I thought my ears must be fooling me when I heard that door a-knockin'. Come in, come in, it's so cold!'
The three were ushered in the door, and they were relieved to find that the Guild did not look abandoned in the least. It was well swept, well lit, and cheerfully decorated. The group fell into introductions. The inhabitants of the Guildhouse in Olenveld were two families, the Nords Jalmar and Nette, and the Bretons Lywel, Rosalyn, and old Wynster. They were friendly and accommodating, immediately bringing some mulled wine and bread while Munthen and Cinneta explained to them what they were doing there, and what the healers and herbalists had said about Vralla.
'So, you see,' said Cinneta, tearfully. 'We didn't think we'd find the Mages Guild in Olenveld, but now that we have, please, you're our last hope.'
The five strangers also had tears in their eyes. Nette wept particularly noisily.
'Oh, you've been through too, too much,' the Nord woman bawled. 'Of course, we'll help. Your little girl will be right as rain.'
'It is fair to tell you,' said Jalmar, more stoically, though he clearly was also touched by the tale. 'This is a Guildhouse, but we are not Mages. We took this building because it was abandoned and it serves our purposes since the Exodus. We are Necromancers.'
'Necromancers?' Cinneta quivered. How could these nice people be anything so horrible?
'Yes, dear,' Nette smiled, patting her hand. 'I know. We have a bad reputation, I'm afraid. Never was very good, and now that well-meaning but foolish Archmagister Hannibal Traven -'
'May the Worm King eat his soul!' cried the old man quite suddenly and very viciously.
'Now, now, Wynster,' said the teenage girl Rosalyn, blushing and smiling at Cinneta apologetically. 'I'm sorry about him. He's usually very sweet-natured.'
'Well, of course, he's right, Mannimarco will have the last say in the matter,' Jalmar said. 'But right now, it's all very, well, awkward. When Traven officially banned the art, we had to go into hiding. The only other option was to abandon it altogether, and that's just foolish, though there are many who have done it.'
'Not many people know about Olenveld anymore since Tiber Septim used it as his own personal graveyard,' said Lywel. 'Took us a week to find it again. But it's perfect for us. Lots of dead bodies, you know... '
'Lywel!' Rosalyn admonished him. 'You're going to scare them!'
'Sorry,' Lywel grinned sheepishly.
'I don't care what you do here,' said Munthen sternly. 'I just want to know what you can do for my daughter.'
'Well,' said Jalmar with a shrug. 'I guess we can make it so she doesn't die and is never sick again.'
Cinneta gasped, 'Please! We'll give you everything we have!'
'Nonsense,' said Nette, picking up Vralla in her big, beefy arms. 'Oh, what a beautiful girl. Would you like to feel better, little sweetheart?'
Vralla nodded, wearily.
'You stay here,' Jalmar said. 'Rosalyn, I'm sure we have something better than bread to offer these nice folks.'
Nette started to carry Vralla away, but Cinneta ran after her. 'Wait, I'm coming too.'
'Oh, I'm sure you would, but it'd ruin the spell, dear,' Nette said. 'Don't worry about a thing. We've done this dozens of times.'
Munthen puts his arms around his wife, and she relented. Rosalyn hurried off to the kitchen and brought some roast fowl and more mulled wine for them. They sat in silence and ate.
Wynster shuddered suddenly. 'The little girl has died.'
'Oh!' Cinneta gasped.
'What in Oblivion do you mean?!' Munthen cried.
'Wynster, was that really necessary?' Lywel scowled at the old man, before turning to Munthen and Cinneta. 'She had to die. Necromancy is not about curing a disease, it's about resurrection, total regeneration, transforming the whole body, not just the parts that aren't working now.'
Munthen stood up, angrily. 'If those maniacs killed her -'
'They didn't,' Rosalyn snapped, her shy eyes now showing fire. 'Your daughter was on her last breath when she came in here, anyone could see that. I know that this is hard, horrible even, but I won't have you call that sweet couple who are only trying to help you, 'maniacs.''
Cinneta burst into tears, 'But she's going to live now? Isn't she?'
'Oh yes,' Lywel said, smiling broadly.
'Oh, thank you, thank you,' Cinneta burst into tears. 'I don't know what we would have done -'
'I know how you feel,' said Rosalyn, patting Wynster's hand fondly. 'When I thought we were going to lose him, I was willing to do anything, just like you.'
Cinneta smiled. 'How old is your father?'
'My son,' Rosalyn corrected her. 'He's six.'
From the other room came the sound of tiny footsteps.
'Vralla, go give your parents a big hug,' said Jalmar.
Munthen and Cinneta turned, and the screaming began.
Fort Snowhawk. Not where I had intended us to go, but since we were getting weary of the swamp and could use a rest, this might just be the place...
"Strange, isn't it... For a long time, I didn't like Skyrim much. But now... I Think I could stay here forever," Vilja said.
Of course, we weren't welcome...
... but that didn't stop us.
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Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 9:01 pm
We entered Fort Snowhawk...
"There's something I'd like to talk to you about. Have you got a minute? You know what... I would really, really like to do some shopping. Would you mind very much to visit a city? Maybe we spend an evening out as well? I Think we should go to... Markarth... or Riften, maybe. But definitely not Windhelm or Solitude," Vilja said.
She was definitely up to something, but whatever it was, it had to wait for now.
We entered the prison...
We were out. But I still couldn't put my finger on it. What did Markarth and Riften have in common that Windhelm and Solitude didn't? Hmmm...
"There's something I'd like to talk to you about. Have you got a minute? You know what... I would really, really like to do some shopping. Would you mind very much to visit a city? Maybe we spend an evening out as well? I Think we should go to... Markarth... or Riften, maybe. But definitely not Windhelm or Solitude," Vilja said.
She was definitely up to something, but whatever it was, it had to wait for now.
We entered the prison...
We were out. But I still couldn't put my finger on it. What did Markarth and Riften have in common that Windhelm and Solitude didn't? Hmmm...
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Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 9:06 pm
Runa and Sofie often get along very well, but sometimes they fight like bitter rivals. The name Calling can be nasty...
"So many refuse to talk to us. They call us thieves and smugglers. I am glad to see that you are not such a one," Ahkari said.
"How did you meet Keerava?" I asked Talen-Jei. "I met her when I wandered into Riften a few years ago. Been smitten with her ever since. In fact, I'm thinking of asking her to marry me. In Black Marsh, tradition dictates we present a potential mate a unique ring to represent our future bond. I already have the gold band, but all I need are Three flawless amethysts to complete the setting," he said. "I have them right here." "I... I... I don't know what to say. Such kindness is unheard of in these times. Here. I ant you to accept this as payment for your sacrifice and I... well, we both thank you. If you'll excuse me, I have other things to attend to."
"Do you Think that Talen-Jei and Keerava will live happy ever after? I hope they will... Isn't that what everyone wishes for? To love, and be loved. I'm heading over to Madesi for a while. Why don't you come with me? It won't take long," Vilja said.
"Is there something I can do for you?" Madesi said. "What have you got for sale today?" Vilja asked. "Could I interest you in some fine jewelry?" "May I take a look?" "Of course. If anything pleases the Eye, don't hesitate to make me an offer," he said. "These rings are beautiful! Are they...? Could they be...? You know, engagement rings?" "In Black Marsh, tradition dictates we present a potential mate a unique wedding ring to represent our future bond." "An engagement ring would be so much nicer than an Amulet of Mara," Vilja said. "I am surprised such a Beautiful woman as you is not spoken for." "Well, there is someone... And if this someone would ever buy me one of these Beautiful engagement rings, I would be the happiest girl in the World. But, please, let this be our secret. Don't tell anyone I said so." "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me," the Argonian said. "Thank you! Anyway, I'd better get going. Bye for now!" she said.
Of course, Vilja knew I had Heard every Word.
"Oh, sweetheart, Madesi really has such... interesting... things for sale, Why don't you have a chat with him, too?" she said.
I bought the most expensive rings, dold Diamond rings, for us. When we got back home to Lakeview, I decided it was time...
"I have a special gift for you," I said. "Sweetheart! You bought an engagement ring for me. What a wonderful surprise, so completely unexpected!" "Will you marry me?" "Oh sweetheart! Of course I will! I'm so happy. To Think that we are getting married! I can hardly Believe it," she said.
"I could go to the Riften temple and prepare for our wedding right away," I said. "Would you do that? Oh, sweetheart... I would love to get married as soon as possible, but there are a few things I need to prepare first. My wedding dress for instance. You see, there is this wonderful, very old, wedding dress that my mother and my grandmother and my grandmother's mother and so on have been wearing. I want to follow the family tradition and wear it, too... So, I was thinking my parents could bring it with them... Yes, I do of course want my family to come here for the wedding. I hope you don't mind?" "Of course your family should come to our wedding." "I'm so glad that you think so. I will write to them right away and ask them when they can come here, and if they can bring the wedding dress," she said.
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Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 9:10 pm
"I'm still Writing on that letter to my parents. I bet they will be so exited over the news about our engagement. And I'm sure they will be so happy for our sake. Well, at least they will be happy once they get to know you, but..." Vilja said. "Is there a problem?" I wondered. "No... not really... But last time my mother wrote, my father seemed a bit, well, upset. Said he wantd to break every bone in your body... Honey, I don't Think he was serious about it. But I know he Always wanted me to find a nice local bloke and settle down in the neighborhood. You know, I Think it would be a nice touch if you sent them a Little something with my letter. Like, well, a token of appreciation. A gift. In fact, it is sort of a tradition in Solstheim to do so." "Of course. Have you got any suggestions?" "Oh, I just knew you would understand how important this is to me. And, yes, I have been thinking, and I do have a suggestion regarding my mother. As you know, she is an alchemist, and she's Always eager to learn new things. I'm sure she would appreciate some books about alchemy. In particular, I Think she'd love Hundred Ways to Use a Falmer Ear by Falanu Hlaalu and Herbalist's Guide to Skyrim by Agneta Falia. And while we are looking for these books, I'll Think of something that would please my father," she said.
Fortunately, Arcadia in Whiterun had a copy of the book for 100 Septims.
"Here is Herbalist's Guide to Skyrim for your mom," I told Vilja. "You have the book? Great! Now we only need Hundred Ways to Use a Falmer Ear as well. And of course you know which Dunmer lady will sell it to us."
hat dragon definitely picked the worst time - for itself - to cause mischief...
"I'd like to buy a copy of Hundred Ways to Use a Falmer Ear," I told Falanu. "That's what I thought! You have come all the way here just for a signed copy of my masterpiece. Here you are!" she said.
I turned to Vilja.
"You have the book? Great! As I already have the other book, it means we have a suitable gift for my mother. But we still need something for my father," she said. "Have you got any suggestions?" I wondered. "I have a suggestion, but it is a bit silly... I happen to know what my father really wants is a mammoth tusk. You see, ever since I was a child, he has been bragging to his friends about how he went to Skyrim and single-handed killed a whole flock of mammoths. But when his friends have asked him to show them a mammoth tusk as proof, he has claimed that he has mislaid all his trophies. Of course it is a lie - of course it would be impossible to mislay something as big as a mammoth tusk. Besides, I doubt that he has ever killed anything larger than a Horker. Still, you can imagine how happy he would be to actually own a mammoth tusk. And if he believed that you had killed the mammoth, yourself, he would be thoroughly impressed." "I'll get a tusk for your father... somehow," I said. "Don't you worry, I'm sure you can find a tusk without actually kiling a mammoth," she said.
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Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 9:14 pm
I had a pretty good idea where to find what we were looking for without having to kill the animal for it - and upset any giant guarding the creature. I had come across this mammoth graveyard upon exiting Bleak Falls Barrow...
"So, you have a mammoth tusk. Great! I'm sure this will make my father really happy. Now I will finish the letter to my parents right away," Vilja said.
"I got my first diary when I was only ten. It was a birthday present from my grandmother. Actually, I Think she gave it to me in the hope that Writing a diary would help me improve my lousy handwriting. That didn't work, though... it still looks absolutely horrible! I bet you wouldn't be able to read it. Anyway, I have been trying to keep a diary ever since. But, since I met you, I don't have much time to write in it," Vilja said.
https://ibb.co/0hSFsYm
"I once tried to light a campfire with a Staff of Inferno. The whole tent Went up in flames. And you should have seen my eyebrows!" Vilja said.
"So, you have a mammoth tusk. Great! I'm sure this will make my father really happy. Now I will finish the letter to my parents right away," Vilja said.
"I got my first diary when I was only ten. It was a birthday present from my grandmother. Actually, I Think she gave it to me in the hope that Writing a diary would help me improve my lousy handwriting. That didn't work, though... it still looks absolutely horrible! I bet you wouldn't be able to read it. Anyway, I have been trying to keep a diary ever since. But, since I met you, I don't have much time to write in it," Vilja said.
https://ibb.co/0hSFsYm
"I once tried to light a campfire with a Staff of Inferno. The whole tent Went up in flames. And you should have seen my eyebrows!" Vilja said.
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Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 9:20 pm
We stopped for a while at the White Water Inn. Then I remembered the books I was supposed to get for the College of Winterfold - from Fellglow Keep...
They were numerous. We looked for the optimal Point of attack...
It took a little while to find an entry point that wasn't locked...
Don't like these dank, smelly flooded ruins, but it was the only entery we found we could get in. The other one was firmly locked and picking it was out of the question. That Orthorn had a lot to answer to...
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Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 9:24 pm
"I'm not too sure I like Orthorn's friend. This whole Place seems a bit, well, unfriendly," Vilja said.
I could only agree with her. We were facing necromancers and summoners at every corner. One of the mages had even tamed two frostbite spiders to fight for him - didn't stop us though.
What were these mages doing with these caåtured vampires? I don't want to know. They did provide me with vampire dust after we killed them, though.
The Bear of Markarth
The Crimes of Ulfric Stormcloak
by Arrianus Arius
Imperial Scholar
Ulfric Stormcloak is considered a hero by many for his part in quelling the Forsworn Uprising. It is said that when the Empire abandoned Skyrim, and the natives of the Reach rebelled (undoubtedly due to the Nords poor treatment of them), Ulfric Stormcloak and his militia was there to retake "their" land from the Forsworn. In all the bravado and epic yarns the skalds compose of his exploits, you would think Ulfric to be a giant of a man, equal to that of Tiber Septim in his cunning, leadership, and decisive actions.
But the truth is far more revealing. Yes, from 4E 174-176, the Forsworn did in fact rule over the Reach as an independent kingdom from Skyrim. Yes, this was accomplished while the Empire was beset by Aldmeri Dominion forces and could not send the Legion to re-establish order. And yes, Ulfric Stormcloak did quell the rebellion without Imperial assistance. That much is true, but what the bards often fail to tell in their stories is that the Forsworn Kingdom was quite peaceful for those 2 years they were in power.
True, some crimes were committed against former Nord landowners (often those accused of being the harshest towards their native workers), but on the whole the Forsworn ruled their lands fairly, and were making overtures to be recognized by the Empire as a legitimate kingdom.
In the wake of the aftermath of the Great War, you can imagine the backlog on stately matters the Empire had. Before a peace treaty could be resolved with the Forsworn, a militia led by Ulfric Stormcloak sieged the gates of their capital, Markarth. What happened during that battle was war, but what happened after the battle was over is nothing short of war crimes.
Every official who worked for the Forsworn was put to the sword, even after they had surrendered. Native women were tortured to give up names of Forsworn fighters who had fled the city or were in the hills of the Reach. Anyone who lived in the city, Forsworn and Nord alike, were executed if they had not fought with Ulfric and his men when they breached the gates. "You are with us, or you are against Skyrim" was the message on Ulfric's lips as he ordered the deaths of shopkeepers, farmers, the elderly, and any child old enough to lift a sword that had failed in the call to fight with him.
So when a "grateful" Empire accepted Ulfric's victory and sent soldiers to re-establish the rule of law in the Reach, it was no surprise that he would demand to be allowed to worship Talos freely before the Legion could enter. With chaos running through the streets of Markarth and the reports of deaths rising every day, the Empire had no choice but to grant Ulfric and his men their worship.
We allowed them to worship Talos, in full violation of the White-Gold Concordat with the Aldmeri Dominion (which recognizes the elven belief that Talos, as a human, cannot be one of the Divines). In jeopardizing the treaty that so many sacrificed for during the Great War, the Empire was wrong. But what choice did they have, I ask you? Against the Bear of Markarth, Ulfric Stormcloak, "no" is not an answer.
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Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 9:29 pm
"Help me! Please. You must help me!" "So, you're Orthorn?" I said. "Yes, yes! Did Arch-Mage Aren send you? He sent you to rescue me, didn't he?" "We're just here for the books you stole from the College." "What? The bo... Oh. Oh dear. I shouldn't have taken them, I know! It was stupid. I was stupid. It won't happen again. Help me out of here, and I'll help you find them. Please!" Orthorn said. "Where are the books you stole?" "I don't have them anymore. She took them... The Caller. She's the one who put me in here! Please, let me out of here!" "Why are you in this Cage?" I wondered. "They threw me in here until they were ready to use me in one of their experiments. This wasn't supposed to happen. I thought they wated my help, not to use me as a test subject!" "Is there a key to this Cage?" "No, it's the levers in the center there. Just make sure you don't pull the wrong one. Please, hurry. I don't like being in here!"
"Thank you, thank you! I promise I'll help. And then I'll go back to the College and I'll beg them to let me back in," Orthorn said.
The City of Stone:
A Sellsword's Guide to Markarth
by Amanda Alleia, Mercenary
If you're cutting your coins across Skyrim, you'll want to point your blade towards Markarth, the capital city of the Reach. There's no end of trouble in the City of Stone, and that means plenty of ways for you to earn your supper. Your sellsword instincts should point you towards the wealthiest patrons with the fattest purses to work for, but you need to mind yourself during your resting hours.
Markarth isn't like your Whiterun, where mercenary companies like the Companions make a sellsword an honored professional. No, Markarth has its own rules, rules the natives aren't going to just tell you. Lucky for you, old Ms. Alleia is here to shine the torchlight over your thick skulls.
First thing you'll notice in the City of Stone is... the stone. They say dwarves cut out the city from the mountain, and maybe they did by the look of it. But what it really means is that the whole place is vertical, and the streets are really cliffs. Long story short, be careful when you've got a bellyful of mead.
When you enter the city proper, you'll immediately hit the market. The merchants usually sell food and jewelry on the streets. Meat is the preferred ration, the craggy rocks in the area make for poor farming land, and silver is what's used to make most all the rings and necklaces you might by, thanks to the large silver mine in the city (we'll get to that in a bit).
Whatever you do, don't ask the Markarth city guard about anything. They're about as helpful as an angry Frostbite Spider while you're caught in its web, and if you mention anything about the Forsworn to them they might spit in your eye. Speaking of the Forsworn, these wildmen and women will be your main source of income while you're in Markarth. The Jarl almost always has a bounty on some Forsworn leader or another, and if you don't mind going blade-to-axe with someone two septims short of a pint of ale, it's steady work.
The Silver-Blood Inn is where you want to head into after seeing the market. The drinks are, as usual, watered down (and judging by the metallic taste, with water from the rivers that run through the city's smelter district). What's important here is getting a room to stay in. You won't find any friendly faces to con your way into a cheap place to stay in Markarth. The natives don't trust strangers, so save yourself the trouble and put down your coin to rent a real room.
After you've spent a day recovering from travel, you'll see that Markarth is divided in two sides by the big crag in the center. The part with the big river running through it is called the Riverside, and the other is called the Dryside. The Riverside is where the smelter and native workers live, so don't bother going there. Instead, head directly to Dryside and talk to the local Nord nobles and see what problems you can start solving (at the highest rate).
Two major places to see are the Temple of Dibella and Cidhna Mine. The temple rests on the top of the central crag. A good place to go if you're on good terms with the Divines, but be warned, the Priestesses of Dibella don't allow men into their Inner Sanctums, so don't go crashing down in there uninvited unless you want a short trip to a long fall.
Cidhna Mine is the place where all the silver comes from that I mentioned before. But it's also the jail. Markarth uses prisoners to mine the ore, and there's a lot of it, so don't get caught doing something illegal in the city or you'll be hauled down there to dig. Apparently, the whole place is owned by one of the big families in the city, the Silver-Bloods (notice the inn is named after them? Always keep your sellsword eye open for hints like that). I tried meeting with the head of the Silver-Blood family to see if they had any work, but guarding their mines isn't the blood-rush I become a mercenary for. Something to keep in mind for yourself if you're thinking of staying a few months.
The final place I'll talk about here is Understone Keep, the home of the Jarl in Markarth. It's a fancy palace like any other (assuming your palace is built underground), but what you need to know is the city underneath the keep. That's right, there's another city below Markarth. One of those old dwarven ruins. They sometimes have expeditions in the ruins that makes for a good job, guarding the scholars and maybe lifting a few stones here and there. If you're lucky, you might come across one of those old dwarven machines, and you can bring back a souvenir after you're done breaking it apart.
All right, Ms. Alleia's hand is getting tired and that means this guide is done. Last piece of advice, don't cause trouble in Markarth. Don't start fights. Don't stop fights. Don't stick your head anywhere without someone from the city paying you for it, because believe me, no one in Markarth wants you there. Make your gold, drink your mead, see what's there to see, and move on. Nothing changes in the City of Stone, and that's just fine.
The Doors of Oblivion by Seif-ij Hidja
"When thou enterest into Oblivion, Oblivion entereth into thee." -- Nai Tyrol-Llar
The greatest mage who ever lived was my master Morian Zenas. You have heard of him as the author of the book 'On Oblivion,' the standard text for all on matters Daedric. Despite many entreaties over the years, he refused to update his classic book with his new discoveries and theories because he found that the more one delves into these realms, the less certain one is. He did not want conjecture, he wanted facts.
For decades before and after the publication of 'On Oblivion,' Zenas compiled a vast personal library on the subject of Oblivion, the home of the Daedra. He divided his time between this research and personal magickal growth, on the assumption that should he succeed in finding a way into the dangerous world beyond and behind ours, he would need much power to wander its dark paths.
Twelve years before Zenas began the journey he had prepared his life to make, he hired me as his assistant. I possessed the three attributes he required for the position: I was young and eager to help without question; I could read any book once and memorize its contents; and, despite my youth, I was already a Master of Conjuration.
Zenas too was a Master of Conjuration - indeed, a Master at all the known and unknown Schools - but he did not want to rely on his ability alone in the most perilous of his research. In an underground vault, he summoned Daedra to interview them on their native land, and for that he needed another Conjurer to make certain they came, were bound, and were sent away again without incident.
I will never forget that vault, not for its look which was plain and unadorned, but for what you couldn't see. There were scents that lingered long after the summoned creatures had left, flowers and sulfur, sex and decay, power and madness. They haunt me still to this very day.
Conjuration, for the layman unacquainted with its workings, connects the caster's mind with that of the summoned. It is a tenuous link, meant only to lure, hold, and dismiss, but in the hands of a Master, it can be much stronger. The Psijics and Dwemer can (in the Dwemer's case, perhaps I should say, could) connect with the minds of others, and converse miles apart - a skill that is sometimes called telepathy.
Over the course of my employment, Zenas and I developed such a link between one another. It was accidental, a result of two powerful Conjurers working closely together, but we decided that it would be invaluable should he succeed in traveling to Oblivion. Since the denizens of that land could be touched even by the skills of an amateur Conjurer, it was possible we could continue to communicate while he was there, so I could record his discoveries.
The 'Doors to Oblivion,' to use Morian Zenas's phrase, are not easily found, and we exhausted many possibilities before we found one where we held the key.
The Psijics of Artaeum have a place they call The Dreaming Cave, where it is said one can enter into the Daedric realms and return. Iachesis, Sotha Sil, Nematigh, and many others have been recorded as using this means, but despite many entreaties to the Order, we were denied its use. Celarus, the leader of the Order, has told us it has been sealed off for the safety of all.
We had hopes of using the ruins of the Battlespire to access Oblivion. The Weir Gate still stands, though the old proving grounds of the Imperial Battlemages itself was shattered some years ago in Jagar Tharn's time. Sadly, after an exhaustive search through the detritus, we had to conclude that when it was destroyed, all access to the realms beyond, the Soul Cairn, the Shade Perilous, and the Havoc Wellhead, had been broken. It was probably for the good, but it frustrated our goal.
The reader may have heard of other Doors, and he may be assured we attempted to find them all.
Some are pure legend, or at any rate, not traceable based on the information left behind. There are references in lore to Marukh's Abyss, the Corryngton Mirror, the Mantellan Crux, the Crossroads, the Mouth, a riddle of an alchemical formula called Jacinth and Rising Sun, and many other places and objects that are said to be Doors, but we could not find.
Some exist, but cannot be entered safely. The whirlpool in the Abecean called the Maelstrom of Bal can make ships disappear, and may be a portal into Oblivion, but the trauma of riding its waters would surely slay any who tried. Likewise, we did not consider it worth the risk to leap from the Pillar of Thras, a thousand foot tall spiral of coral, though we witnessed the sacrifices the sloads made there. Some victims were killed by the fall, but some, indeed, seemed to vanish before being dashed on the rocks. Since the sload did not seem certain why some were taken and some died, we did not favor the odds of the plunge.
The simplest and most maddeningly complex way to go to Oblivion was simply to cease to be here, and begin to be there. Throughout history, there are examples of mages who seemed to travel to the realms beyond ours seemingly at will. Many of these voyagers are long dead, if they ever existed, but we were able to find one still living. In a tower off Zafirbel Bay on the island of Vvardenfell in the province of Morrowind there exists a very old, very reclusive wizard named Divayth Fyr.
He was not easy to reach, and he was reluctant to share with Morian Zenas the secret Door to Oblivion. Fortunately, my master's knowledge of lore impressed Fyr, and he taught him the way. I would be breaking my promise to Zenas and Fyr to explain the procedure here, and I would not divulge it even if I could. If there is dangerous knowledge to be had, that is it. But I do not reveal too much to say that Fyr's scheme relied on exploiting a series of portals to various realms created by a Telvanni wizard long missing and presumed dead. Against the disadvantage of this limited number of access points, we weighed the relative reliability and security of passage, and considered ourselves fortunate in our informant.
Morian Zenas then left this world to begin his exploration. I stayed at the library to transcribe his information and help him with any research he needed.
'Dust,' he whispered to me on the first day of his voyage. Despite the inherent dreariness of the word, I could hear his excitement in his voice, echoing in my mind. 'I can see from one end of the world to the other in a million shades of gray. There is no sky or ground or air, only particles, floating, falling, whirling about me. I must levitate and breathe by magickal means...'
Zenas explored the nebulous land for some time, encountering vaporous creatures and palaces of smoke. Though he never met the Prince, we concluded that he was in Ashpit, said to be the home of Malacath, where anguish, betrayal, and broken promises like ash filled the bitter air.
'The sky is on fire,' I heard him say as he moved on to the next realm. 'The ground is sludge, but traversable. I see blackened ruins all around me, like a war was fought here in the distant past. The air is freezing. I cast blooms of warmth all around me, but it still feels like daggers of ice stabbing me in all directions.'
This was Coldharbour, where Molag Bal was Prince. It appeared to Zenas as if it were a future Nirn, under the King of Rape, desolate and barren, filled with suffering. I could hear Morian Zenas weep at the images he saw, and shiver at the sight of the Imperial Palace, spattered with blood and excrement.
'Too much beauty,' Zenas gasped when he went to the next realm. 'I am half blind. I see flowers and waterfalls, majestic trees, a city of silver, but it is all a blur. The colors run like water. It's raining now, and the wind smells like perfume. This surely is Moonshadow, where Azura dwells.'
Zenas was right, and astonishingly, he even had audience with the Queen of Dusk and Dawn in her rose palace. She listened to his tale with a smile, and told him of the coming of the Nevevarine. My master found Moonshadow so lovely, he wished to stay there, half-blind, forever, but he knew he must move on and complete his journey of discovery.
'I am in a storm,' he told me as he entered the next realm. He described the landscape of dark twisted trees, howling spirits, and billowing mist, and I thought he might have entered the Deadlands of Mehrunes Dagon. But then he said quickly, 'No, I am no longer in a forest. There was a flash of lightning, and now I am on a ship. The mast is tattered. The crew is slaughtered. Something is coming through the waves ... oh, gods ... Wait, now, I am in a dank dungeon, in a cell ...'
He was not in the Deadlands, but Quagmire, the nightmare realm of Vaernima. Every few minutes, there was a flash of lightning and reality shifted, always to something more horrible and horrifying. A dark castle one moment, a den of ravening beasts the next, a moonlit swamp, a coffin where he was buried alive. Fear got the better of my master, and he quickly passed to the next realm.
I heard him laugh, 'I feel like I'm home now.'
Morian Zenas described to me an endless library, shelves stretching on in every direction, stacks on top of stacks. Pages floated on a mystical wind that he could not feel. Every book had a black cover with no title. He could see no one, but felt the presence of ghosts moving through the stacks, rifling through books, ever searching.
It was Apocrypha. The home of Hermaeus-Mora, where all forbidden knowledge can be found. I felt a shudder in my mind, but I could not tell if it was my master's or mine.
Morian Zenas never traveled to another realm that I know of.
Throughout his visits to the first four realms, my master spoke to me constantly. Upon entering the Apocrypha, he became quieter, as he was lured into the world of research and study, the passions that had controlled his heart while on Nirn. I would frantically try to call to him, but he closed his mind to me.
Then he would whisper, 'This cannot be...'
'No one would ever guess the truth...'
'I must learn more...'
'I see the world, a last illusion's shimmer, it is crumbling all around us...'
I would cry back to him, begging him to tell me what was happening, what he was seeing, what he was learning. I even tried using Conjuration to summon him as if he were a Daedra himself, but he refused to leave. Morian Zenas was lost.
I last received a whisper from him six months ago. Before then, it had been five years, and three before that. His thoughts are no longer intelligible in any language. Perhaps he is still in Apocrypha, lost but happy, in a trap he refuses to escape.
Perhaps he slipped between the stacks and passed into the Madhouse of Sheogorath, losing his sanity forever.
I would save him if I could.
I would silence his whispers if I could.
_________________
Nemo sine vitio est.
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Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 9:32 pm
"Poor Orthorn... how are you doing? You know, with friends like yours you don't really need any enemies," Vilja said.
"So, you're the one who barged into my home and laid waste to my Projects. How nice to meet you," the Caller said.
But then Orthorn barged into the room and the Caller immediately turned hostile. She summoned her minions, but against all of us there was no Place she could hide. It just remained to collect the books...
Night of Tears by Drenor Seleth
Saarthal holds a prominent place in Skyrim history, even if most do not remember it by name. It is of course the site of one of the first major Nord settlements, one of the first cities of men in Skyrim, and the earliest known capital of their civilization. It was also the site of terrible bloodshed, when the elves attempted to drive the Nords out of Skyrim, to succeed only in incurring their wrath in the form of Ysgramor and his fabled Five Hundred Companions, who swept the elves from Skyrim and firmly established it as the home of the Nords.
All this is known, but little else. What happened on that Night of Tears, when Saarthal was razed to the ground? What provoked the elves to such a deliberate, vicious attack, and what prompted such a severe response from the Nords?
Vingalmo's Treatise on the Altmer Antecedent suggests that the elves of the Merethic Era, along with their counterparts the early Dwemer, possessed a degree of sophistication unparalleled in Tamriel. They displayed power beyond what could be expected of the time. While a distinct explanation is not given for this, I believe that this work, compared with the early writings of Heseph Chirirnis, suggest that something greater was at work on that night in Saarthal.
The true motives behind the Night of Tears have been obscured to us by the passage of time, but I believe this was not a simple war of territory, or of control of Skyrim. I believe that what happened was a significant event based around something very particular.
The Nords found something when they built their city, buried deep in the ground. They attempted to keep it buried, but the elves learned of it and coveted it for themselves. Thus they assaulted Saarthal, their goal not to drive the Nords out but to secure this power for themselves. I believe Ysgramor knew something of what the elves would find under Saarthal, and rallied together his people to keep the elves from gaining it. When Nords once again controlled Skyrim, this power was buried deep below the earth and sealed away.
Time has kept this knowledge from us, but it is my hope that Time will also reveal the truth of these words. Every effort will be made to relocate Saarthal, and find that which has been lost to us.
ON ARTAEUM by By Taurce il-Anselma, 3E 400
The Isle of Artaeum (ar-TAY-um)
Artaeum isthe third largest island in the Sumurset archipelago, located south of the Moridunon village of Potansa and west of the mainland village of Runcibae. It is best known for being the home to the Psijic Order, perhaps the oldest monastic group in Tamriel.
The earliest written record of Psijics is from the twentieth year of the first era and tells the tale of the author, the renowned Breton sage Voernet, travelling to the Isle of Artaeum to meet with the Rite Master of the Psijics, Iachesis. Even then, the Psijics were the counselors of kings and proponents of the "Elder Way," taught to them by the original people of Tamriel. The Elder Way is a philosophy of meditation and study said to bind the forces of nature to the individual will. It differs from magicka in origin, but the effects are much the same.
That being said, it is perhaps more than coincidence that the Isle of Artaeum literally vanished from the shores of Sumurset at the beginning of the second era at about the time of the founding of the Mages Guild of Tamriel. Various historians and scholars have published theories about this, but perhaps none but Iachesis and his own could shed light on this.
Five hundred years passed and Artaeum returned. The Psijics on the Isle consisted of persons, mostly elves, who had disappeared and were presumed dead over the second era. They could not or would not offer an explanation for Artaeum's wherebouts during that time or the fate of Iachesis and the original council of Artaeum.
Currently, the Psijics are led by the Lore Master Celarus who has presided over the Council of Artaeum for the last two hundred and fifty years. The Council's influence in world politics is tidal: the kings of Sumurset, particularly those of Moridunon, have often sought the Psijics' opinion; Uriel V was much influenced by the Council in the early, most glorious part of his reign, before his disasterous attack on Akavir; it has even been suggested that the fleet of King Orghum of Pyandonea was destroyed by a joint effort of Emperor Antiochus and the Psijic Order. The last four emperors, Uriel VI, Morihatha, Pelagius IV, and Uriel VII, have been suspicious of the Psijics, even enough to refuse ambassadors for the Isle of Artaeum in the Imperial City.
The Isle of Artaeum is difficult to chart geographically. It is said that parts of it exist simultaneously in multiple dimensions and continuously shift either at random or by decree of Council. Visitors to the island are so rare to be almost unheard of. Anyone desirous of a meeting with a Psijic may find contacts in Potansa and Runcibae as well as many of the kingdoms of Sumurset.
Were it more accessible, Artaeum would be a favored destination for travellers. I have been to the Isle once and still dream of the idylic orchards and pastures, the still and silent lagoons, the misty woodlands, and the unique Psijic architecture that seems to be as natural but wondrous as the surroundings. The Ceporah Tower in particular I would study, for it is a ruin from a civilization that predates the High Elves by several hundred years and is still used in certain rites by the Psijics.
Perhaps one day I might return.
* * * * *
Note:
The author is currently on the Isle of Artaeum by gracious consent of Master Sargenius of the Council of Artaeum.
The Last King of the Ayleids by Herminia Cinna
The Ayleids, or Heartland High Elves, ruled Cyrodiil in the long ages of Myth before the beginning of recorded history. One of the earliest recorded dates, in fact, is the Fall of White Gold Tower in 1E 243, which is commonly assumed to mark the end of the Ayleids.
Although Ayleid rule over all of Cyrodiil was indeed broken in 1E 243, this was only one of the most obvious stages near the end of a long decline. The first two centuries of the First Era saw increasing strife between the great Ayleid lords of Cyrodiil. Alessia appears to have taken advantage of a period of civil war to launch her uprising. Imperial historians have traditionally attributed her victory to intervention from Skyrim, but it appears that she had at least as much help from rebel Ayleid lords during the siege of White Gold Tower.
The popular image of the Ayleids as brutal slavemasters is based in fact, of course, but it is less well-known that a number of Ayleid princes continued to rule parts of Cyrodiil after 263, as vassals of the new Empress of Cyrodiil. This suggests either that Ayleid rule was not universally detested, or that Alessia and her successors were more pragmatic than is traditionally believed, or perhaps some of both.
In any event, excavations at a number of Ayleid sites show continued occupation and even expansion during the so-called Late Ayleid Period (1E 243 - c. 498). At first, many Ayleid lords continued to rule as vassals of the new human regime. In some cases, Ayleid supporters of Alessia were even rewarded with new lands taken from slain enemies. It is not clear to what extent human slavery continued under the Cyrodilic Empire. Humans continued to dwell in the Ayleid-ruled areas of Cyrodiil, but there is nothing definitive to show under what terms.
This was an uneasy relationship from the beginning, and was not destined to last long. Resentment at the continued presence of Ayleid nobles within the Empire was a contributing factor to the rise of the so-called Alessian Order founded by Maruhk. The first victims of the Alessians were the Ayleids of Cyrodiil. In the early 300s, the surviving Ayleid communities in human-ruled areas were obliterated one by one, the refugees temporarily swelling the power of the remaining Ayleid lordships.
Then in 361, the Alessians gained control of the Empire and enforced the Alessian Doctrines throughout its domain. The Ayleid lordships were abolished. Enforcement of this decree does not appear to have required much direct violence -- it seems that by this point the balance of power was so overwhelmingly against them, and their fate so long foreshadowed, that most of the remaining Ayleids simply left Cyrodiil, eventually being absorbed into the Elven populations of Valenwood and High Rock. Indeed, the rise of the Direnni Hegemony may be linked to this exodus of Ayleids from Cyrodiil (a connection so far little studied by historians).
Still, a remnant Ayleid population seems to have survived the rule of the Alessians, because we hear of "the last king of the Ayleids" joining the battle of Glenumbria Moors where the Dirennis decisively defeated the Alessians in 482. How this king's people survived the preceding century is unknown. We do not even know who they were, although recent research points to Nenalata as the possible resting place of this "last king." Unfortunately, in the current state of the Empire, funds are no longer available for proper scientific investigation of such extensive ruins, so the answer to these questions will have to be left to future generations.
Now we ha to return to the College of Winterhold with the books...
_________________
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Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 9:35 pm
"Here are the books that Went missing," I said. "Well, well. And you seem to be in one piece! Thank you. I'll look these over, and inform Mirabelle if I find anything relevant. Night of Tear, eh? I remember this one. Well, isn't that interesting. Did you read it yourself? If I recall correctly, that has some interesting implications. You should mention that to Tolfdir. And... here. I suppose you've eaned these," Urag gro-Shub said. "Are there ay special books you're looking for?" "As a matter of fact, there are. Have you ever Heard of Shalidor? Immensely powerful mage, back in the First Era. Had an understanding of magic few have ever matched. He holed himself up in Labyrinthian, and devoted his time to research and study. Wrote more than you would imagine possible. Since then, his Writings have been scattered all over Skyrim, but are Little use to anyone who can't translate them. I'm one of the few who can. I've Heard whispers of more of his work gaving turned up. If you track it down, it may prove useful to all of us."
"Good to see skyrim still has such fine people. You give an old man hope," Tolfdir said. "Urag suggested I come see you," I said. "Did he now? Does he have information about our wonderful Discovery?" "I found a certain book, Night of Tears..." "Is that the one about something buried beneath Saarthal? Something that men and mer fought over? I'll have to make Point of re-Reading it. I don't recall the details."
The old mage turned his attention to the giant floating orb...
"I just can't seem to tear myself away. Whatever this is, its Beauty is like nothing I've ever seen before. If you'd allow me to indulge myself for a moment, I thought I might make a few observations..." Tolfdir said. "I'm sure you've already noticed the markings. They're quite unlike anything we've seen Before. Ayleid, Dwemer, Daedric... not even Falmer. None of them are a match. Quite curious indeed. Now, I'm not sure that you're qite as attuned as I am, given my extensive years of experience, but can you feel that? This marvelous object. It practically radiates magicka, and yet it's unlike anything I've felt Before. Arch-Mage Aren is already hard at work, and hopefully we'll have more information soon. Now, I..." he continued.
"I'm afraid I must intrude. It is urgent that I speak with your associate imediately," Ancano said. "This is most inappropriate! We are involved in serious research here!" Tolfdir said. "Yes, I've no doubt of its gavity. This, however, is a matter that cannot wait." "Well, I'm quite sure I've never been interrupted like this Before... the audacity! I suppose we'll continue this at some later time, when we can avoid interruptions." "I need you to come with me immediately. Let's go," Ancano said.
I wondered what it was this Thalmor scum wanted. I had no intention of following him anywhere...
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Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 9:37 pm
"I said let's go. Now," Ancano said. The Thalmor sounded quite annoyed, which just amused me. "Aren't you just an advisor here?" I said, hoping he may lose his temper - all for an excuse to slay this bastard. But no such luck. "Technically, that's true. But I still report to the Aldmeri Dominion, and I cannot ignore this situation. Don't worry, you can return to your petty squabbles and your meaningless research as soon as this matter is resolved. Now, you are going to speak to this... Monk... and find out why he is here, and then he will be removed from College grounds," Ancano said. Monk? What monk? My curiosity was peaked...
"Please do not be alarmed. I mean you no harm. It is good to meet you in person," Quaranir said. "What's going on? What happened to everyone? What do you want with me?" I wondered. "I merely wish to talk to you. I've given us a chance to speak privately, but I'm afraid I can't do this for long. We must be brief. The situation here at your College is of dire importance, and attempts to Contact you as we have previously have failed. I Believe it is due to the very source of our concern. This object... The Eye of Magnus as your people have taken to Calling it. The energy coming from it has prevented us from reaching you with the visions you have already seen. The longer it remains here, the more dangerous the situation becomes. And so I have come here personally to tell you it must be dealt with." "If this is dangerous, then why don't you do something about it?" "I'm afraid it's not that simple. You must understand, the Psijic Order does not typically... intervene directly in events. My presence here will be seen as an affront to some within the Order. A soon as we are finished, I will be leaving your College. I'm all too aware that my arrival has aroused suspicion, especially in Ancano, your Thalmor associate. Nevertheless, my Order will not act directly. You must take it upon yourself to do so," Quaranir said. "So what exactly is the problem?" "As you may have learned, this object... the Eye... is immensely powerful. The World is not ready for it. If it remains here, it will be misused. Indeed, many in the Order Believe it has already... Rather, something will happen soon, something that cannot be avoided." "What do you expect from me, then?" I wondered. "We believe your efforts should be directed towards dealing with the aftermath, but we cannot predict what that will be. I fear I have altready overstepped the bounds of my Order, but I will offer this: seek out the Augur of Dunlain here in your College. His perception may be more coherent than ours." "Who is the Augur of Dunlain?" "He was once a student here at the College. Now he is... something different," Quaranir said. "Where can I find this Augur?" I wondered. "I... I am unsure. He is somewhere within the College. Surely one of your colleagues must know his location. I am sorry I cannot provide you with further help, but this conversation requires a great deal of effort on my part. Now, I am afraid I must leave you. We will continue to Watch over you, and guide you as best we can. It is within you to succeed. Never forget that."
"I'm sorry, were you about to say something?" Arch-Mage Aren said. "You must excuse me. I shouldn't be here," Quaranir said. "I'm... I'm not sure what happened. A monk from the Psijic Order here, after all these years, and then he just leaves. I hope we didn't offend him somehow," Savos Aren said. "What did the psijic want?" I asked. "Beyond asking for you, he never said. Very strange indeed." "Have you ever Heard of the Augur of Dunlain?" "Has Tolfdir been telling stories again? I thought I made it quite clear that this was a subject inapprorpriate for conversation. Please, don't allow him to continue to discuss the subject," the Arch-Mage said.
Ancano was quite upset not getting a straight answer out of Quaranir. The Psijic monk just walked out on him. I could barely hide my amusement.
"Please do not be alarmed. I mean you no harm. It is good to meet you in person," Quaranir said. "What's going on? What happened to everyone? What do you want with me?" I wondered. "I merely wish to talk to you. I've given us a chance to speak privately, but I'm afraid I can't do this for long. We must be brief. The situation here at your College is of dire importance, and attempts to Contact you as we have previously have failed. I Believe it is due to the very source of our concern. This object... The Eye of Magnus as your people have taken to Calling it. The energy coming from it has prevented us from reaching you with the visions you have already seen. The longer it remains here, the more dangerous the situation becomes. And so I have come here personally to tell you it must be dealt with." "If this is dangerous, then why don't you do something about it?" "I'm afraid it's not that simple. You must understand, the Psijic Order does not typically... intervene directly in events. My presence here will be seen as an affront to some within the Order. A soon as we are finished, I will be leaving your College. I'm all too aware that my arrival has aroused suspicion, especially in Ancano, your Thalmor associate. Nevertheless, my Order will not act directly. You must take it upon yourself to do so," Quaranir said. "So what exactly is the problem?" "As you may have learned, this object... the Eye... is immensely powerful. The World is not ready for it. If it remains here, it will be misused. Indeed, many in the Order Believe it has already... Rather, something will happen soon, something that cannot be avoided." "What do you expect from me, then?" I wondered. "We believe your efforts should be directed towards dealing with the aftermath, but we cannot predict what that will be. I fear I have altready overstepped the bounds of my Order, but I will offer this: seek out the Augur of Dunlain here in your College. His perception may be more coherent than ours." "Who is the Augur of Dunlain?" "He was once a student here at the College. Now he is... something different," Quaranir said. "Where can I find this Augur?" I wondered. "I... I am unsure. He is somewhere within the College. Surely one of your colleagues must know his location. I am sorry I cannot provide you with further help, but this conversation requires a great deal of effort on my part. Now, I am afraid I must leave you. We will continue to Watch over you, and guide you as best we can. It is within you to succeed. Never forget that."
"I'm sorry, were you about to say something?" Arch-Mage Aren said. "You must excuse me. I shouldn't be here," Quaranir said. "I'm... I'm not sure what happened. A monk from the Psijic Order here, after all these years, and then he just leaves. I hope we didn't offend him somehow," Savos Aren said. "What did the psijic want?" I asked. "Beyond asking for you, he never said. Very strange indeed." "Have you ever Heard of the Augur of Dunlain?" "Has Tolfdir been telling stories again? I thought I made it quite clear that this was a subject inapprorpriate for conversation. Please, don't allow him to continue to discuss the subject," the Arch-Mage said.
Ancano was quite upset not getting a straight answer out of Quaranir. The Psijic monk just walked out on him. I could barely hide my amusement.
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Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 9:41 pm
"It's Always encouraging to see younger generations embracing education. The College will be here for you, no matter what. We Always look after our own," Tolfdir said. "Have you ever Heard of the Augur of Dunlain?" "Well now, there's a name I haven't Heard in some time. My goodness, it's been years since I've spoken with him. I suppose he's still down in the Midden, but I haven't checked. Are you going to see him? Do tell him hello for me, won't you?" "Where is the Midden?" "Underneath the College. It's not the nicest Place, so if you go down there, please do be careful," the old wizards said. "Can you tell me more about the Augur of Dunlain?" "Well, I suppose he wouldn't mind... It was all Before my time, you understand. I've Heard the stories, the same as anyone else. He was a brilliant student, an accomplished wizard. Delved into magic in a way none had before. But, I Think, he became too focused on just how much Power he could acquire. That'a what led to the accident." "What accident?" I wondered. "Do you remember what I first told you, about how not being able to control magic could destroy you? I didn't simply mean it could kill you. The Augur's accident is Another very real type of a Life destroyed. Well, it's been described as an accident. I can't imagine it was intentional. Something must've gone wrong, and he ended up in the state he's in now, fused to the energie that flow through the College. I've never felt it appropriate to ask him about it, about how it must feel. Or, I suppose, if he can feel at all." "You look like you could use a hand." "Well, yes. This is rather embarrassing, but it seems I've misplaced something. I can't find my alembic. I suppose I could use Another one, but... well, it sounds silly, but mine has sentimental value. If you happen to see it, would you mind bringing it to me?" Tolfdir said.
Then Brelyna Maryon approached me...
"What do you need help with?" I asked. "We're all trying to become better mages, right? Well, I need someone I can practice a few spells on. Nothing dangerous, really. Would you be willing to assist me?" she said. "Can't you practice on yourself?" "No, not that kind of spell. Believe me when I say I wouldn't be asking if it weren't necessary." "What's in it for me?" "Well, I... I simply thought you might wish to help out one of your fellow mages. If that's not enough, I suppose... I have this amulet you could take." "Okay, I'll help," I said. "Oh, good. I was afraid I'd have to go ask J'zargo. Now, you just stand there... Please hold still, and don't move. There! Now, I..."
"Oh dear. That wasn't supposed to happen. Do you... do you feel all right? You look very, umm, green. I am so very sorry. I went over this again and again, and I was sure it would have better results," Brelyna said. "What did you do?" I said. "I'm not really sure. I think it's just a minor miscalculation on my part. I'm sure it will wear off soon. When it does, you'll be perfectly fine, and then we can try again. In the meantime, I'll see about figuring out what went wrong," she said.
"It's great that you are so helpful, but this time you made a really bad decision. In my opinion, that is," Vilja snickered.
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Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 9:47 pm
"I have received a letter from my parents! They were both very happy with your gifts, and they are so much looking forward to the wedding. In fact, they are already on their way here. But they don't know the exact date of arrival, so they wull try to get a message through to us once they are here. Oh, sweetheart, I'm so much looking forward to introducing you to them. I'm sure they will love you!" Vilja said.
"I wonder how dangerous that Eye of Magnus really is," Vilja said. "Your spell finally wore off," I said. "Exactly as I said it would. Now, are you ready to try again? I am convinced it will work this time," Brelyna said. "One more chance. That's it," I told her. "Good, good. It'll be Worth it, I assure you. Okay, now don't move at all. Oh my. That isn't right! Just wait. Just... I can fix this. Oh no, that's not it at all. Let me try again... This really isn't turning out the way I'd hoped. I'll get it right this time, I swear. There! All better. Well, it worked out in the end, didn't it?" "Let's never speak of this again." "Agreed. And thank you for your help. You're a good friend," she said. "What do you know about Ancano?" "I know I don't like the way he looks at me. I can't tell if he expects me to blow myself up, or try and murder him. But he clearly doesn't trust any of us." "Winterhold used to be full of dark elves?" I changed the subject. "Didn't you know? Before the Oblivion crisis, many elves called Winterhold their home. More visited the College from Morrowind every year. After, growing distrust of magic made Life difficult for many. Some left rather than endure the growing hatred from the local Nords. Others returned home after the Red Year, when Vvardenfell erupted and caused much destruction. Winterhold itself died in the týears between then and now. What's left out there is a husk. Only the College really remains." "Do you like it here at the College?" "So far, if only because no one is telling me how great I ought to be. I just want to learn, I don't want to Think about what's expected of me," Brelyna said.
"I've got a message from my mother. My family has arrived in Dawnstar, and is waitig for us at the inn. Let's go there as soon as possible! Vilja said.
"My dear, I'm so happy to finally meet you. Vilja has told me so much about you in her letters. It feels like I already know you. Has vilja made my special meatballs for you yet? I'm sure you will love them!" Idegun said.
"This is outrageous, and I'm so furious that I coud kill someone!" Matthis said. "Vilja is a grown up woman, you have no right to disapprove," I said. "Eh...? What? Oh! No, I'm not talking about the marriage. I'm sure we'll get along just fine. I'm talking about those bastard pirates that robbed the ship and stole our luggage! I want revenge!" "Tell me, what happened?" I said.
"It was night, and we were alsleep in our cabins, when the pirates attacked the boat. The captain, that weakling, gave them Everything they wanted in order to avoid fighting. Hrrgh! He should have shouted for me instead, I would have shown them how a true Nord fights!" Matthis said. "Of course!" "Ha! My beard may be grey but I'm still as strong and hardy as an oak tree! Those pirates will regret that they stole the wedding gifts and my daughter's wedding dress! I'm going to break their necks as soon as I get to Hob's Fall Cave!" "Hob's Fall Cave?" I said. "Yes, that's where those pirates are keeping their loot. At least that's what the captain told me. Obviously, none of the weaklings around here are willing to go to that Cave in order to teach the pirates a lesson. But, by the Divine, I'm going to take care of them! Hrrgh!" "I'll come with you!" "You will? Ah, that's what I said to Idegun - that lad it of good quality, else Vilja wouldn't have picked him. I just knew you would want to come. Tell you what... as you know the area better than I, I'll let you lead the way. And meanwhile, Vilja can Escort the rest of the family to Riften. What's that inn called? Bee and Barb? I've been there once. Good Place, but the furniture was crap. I broke the leg of a table when I tried to dance on it. Anyway, I'm ready to leave when you are. So, are you ready?" Matthis said.
"I wonder how dangerous that Eye of Magnus really is," Vilja said. "Your spell finally wore off," I said. "Exactly as I said it would. Now, are you ready to try again? I am convinced it will work this time," Brelyna said. "One more chance. That's it," I told her. "Good, good. It'll be Worth it, I assure you. Okay, now don't move at all. Oh my. That isn't right! Just wait. Just... I can fix this. Oh no, that's not it at all. Let me try again... This really isn't turning out the way I'd hoped. I'll get it right this time, I swear. There! All better. Well, it worked out in the end, didn't it?" "Let's never speak of this again." "Agreed. And thank you for your help. You're a good friend," she said. "What do you know about Ancano?" "I know I don't like the way he looks at me. I can't tell if he expects me to blow myself up, or try and murder him. But he clearly doesn't trust any of us." "Winterhold used to be full of dark elves?" I changed the subject. "Didn't you know? Before the Oblivion crisis, many elves called Winterhold their home. More visited the College from Morrowind every year. After, growing distrust of magic made Life difficult for many. Some left rather than endure the growing hatred from the local Nords. Others returned home after the Red Year, when Vvardenfell erupted and caused much destruction. Winterhold itself died in the týears between then and now. What's left out there is a husk. Only the College really remains." "Do you like it here at the College?" "So far, if only because no one is telling me how great I ought to be. I just want to learn, I don't want to Think about what's expected of me," Brelyna said.
"I've got a message from my mother. My family has arrived in Dawnstar, and is waitig for us at the inn. Let's go there as soon as possible! Vilja said.
"My dear, I'm so happy to finally meet you. Vilja has told me so much about you in her letters. It feels like I already know you. Has vilja made my special meatballs for you yet? I'm sure you will love them!" Idegun said.
"This is outrageous, and I'm so furious that I coud kill someone!" Matthis said. "Vilja is a grown up woman, you have no right to disapprove," I said. "Eh...? What? Oh! No, I'm not talking about the marriage. I'm sure we'll get along just fine. I'm talking about those bastard pirates that robbed the ship and stole our luggage! I want revenge!" "Tell me, what happened?" I said.
"It was night, and we were alsleep in our cabins, when the pirates attacked the boat. The captain, that weakling, gave them Everything they wanted in order to avoid fighting. Hrrgh! He should have shouted for me instead, I would have shown them how a true Nord fights!" Matthis said. "Of course!" "Ha! My beard may be grey but I'm still as strong and hardy as an oak tree! Those pirates will regret that they stole the wedding gifts and my daughter's wedding dress! I'm going to break their necks as soon as I get to Hob's Fall Cave!" "Hob's Fall Cave?" I said. "Yes, that's where those pirates are keeping their loot. At least that's what the captain told me. Obviously, none of the weaklings around here are willing to go to that Cave in order to teach the pirates a lesson. But, by the Divine, I'm going to take care of them! Hrrgh!" "I'll come with you!" "You will? Ah, that's what I said to Idegun - that lad it of good quality, else Vilja wouldn't have picked him. I just knew you would want to come. Tell you what... as you know the area better than I, I'll let you lead the way. And meanwhile, Vilja can Escort the rest of the family to Riften. What's that inn called? Bee and Barb? I've been there once. Good Place, but the furniture was crap. I broke the leg of a table when I tried to dance on it. Anyway, I'm ready to leave when you are. So, are you ready?" Matthis said.
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Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 9:56 pm
"Are you really getting married? That's so... so... cool! I'm Tindra, by the way. Vilja's little sister." "This mead isn't bad, but I can assure you that the mead I make is even better," Idegun said.
"Bah... snow here, snow in Solstheim. What's the difference?" Matthis said.
"I don't like the look of this place," Matthis said.
The Book of Daedra by Anonimous
[These are excerpts from this lengthy tome, describing the nature of each of the Daedra.]
Azura, whose sphere is dusk and dawn, the magic in-between realms of twilight, known as Moonshadow, Mother of the Rose, and Queen of the Night Sky.
Boethiah, whose sphere is deceit and conspiracy, and the secret plots of murder, assassination, treason, and unlawful overthrow of authority.
Clavicus Vile, whose sphere is the granting of power and wishes through ritual invocations and pact.
Hermaeus Mora, whose sphere is scrying of the tides of Fate, of the past and future as read in the stars and heavens, and in whose dominion are the treasures of knowledge and memory.
Hircine, whose sphere is the Hunt, the Sport of Daedra, the Great Game, the Chase, known as the Huntsman and the Father of Manbeasts.
Malacath, whose sphere is the patronage of the spurned and ostracized, the keeper of the Sworn Oath, and the Bloody Curse.
Mehrunes Dagon, whose sphere is Destruction, Change, Revolution, Energy, and Ambition.
Mephala, whose sphere is obscured to mortals; known by the names Webspinner, Spinner, and Spider; whose only consistent theme seems to be interference in the affairs of mortals for her amusement.
Meridia, whose sphere is obscured to mortals; who is associated with the energies of living things.
Molag Bal, whose sphere is the domination and enslavement of mortals; whose desire is to harvest the souls of mortals and to bring mortal souls within his sway by spreading seeds of strife and discord in the mortal realms.
Namira, whose sphere is the ancient Darkness; known as the Spirit Daedra, ruler of sundry dark and shadowy spirits; associated with spiders, insects, slugs, and other repulsive creatures which inspire mortals with an instinctive revulsion.
Nocturnal, whose sphere is the night and darkness; who is known as the Night Mistress.
Peryite, whose sphere is the ordering of the lowest orders of Oblivion, known as the Taskmaster.
Sanguine, whose sphere is hedonistic revelry and debauchery, and passionate indulgences of darker natures.
Sheogorath, whose sphere is Madness, and whose motives are unknowable.
Vaernima, whose sphere is the realm of dreams and nightmares, and from whose realm issues forth evil omens.
[Especially marked for special interest under the heading "Malacath" you find a reference to SCOURGE, blessed by Malacath, and dedicated to the use of mortals. In short, the reference suggests that any Daedra attempting to invoke the weapon's powers will be expelled into the voidstreams of Oblivion.]
"Of the legendary artifacts of the Daedra, many are well known, like Azura's Star, and Sheogorath's Wabbajack. Others are less well known, like Scourge, Mackkan's Hammer, Bane of Daedra...."
"...yet though Malacath blessed Scourge to be potent against his Daedra kin, he thought not that it should fall into Daedric hands, then to serve as a tool for private war among caitiff and forsaken. Thus did Malacath curse the device such that, should any dark kin seek to invoke its powers, that a void should open and swallow that Daedra, and purge him into Oblivion's voidstreams, from thence to pathfind back to the Real and Unreal Worlds in the full order of time."
"So you found the wedding dress? Good job! I'm sure Vilja will be happy to get her wedding dress back. It has been used by the women in our family for generations," Matthis said. "You did a good job - of course I would have managed on my own, but together we are invincible, my friend! As for the other things in the container, they are for the two of you as well. I'm sure that Vilja will be particularly happy over the strawberries. She specifically asked her mother to bring some strawberry plants, so that she will be able to make you strawberry pies. Now, let's move on... Vilja and the rest of the family should be waiting for us at the Bee and Barb in Riften," he continued.
"Bah... snow here, snow in Solstheim. What's the difference?" Matthis said.
"I don't like the look of this place," Matthis said.
The Book of Daedra by Anonimous
[These are excerpts from this lengthy tome, describing the nature of each of the Daedra.]
Azura, whose sphere is dusk and dawn, the magic in-between realms of twilight, known as Moonshadow, Mother of the Rose, and Queen of the Night Sky.
Boethiah, whose sphere is deceit and conspiracy, and the secret plots of murder, assassination, treason, and unlawful overthrow of authority.
Clavicus Vile, whose sphere is the granting of power and wishes through ritual invocations and pact.
Hermaeus Mora, whose sphere is scrying of the tides of Fate, of the past and future as read in the stars and heavens, and in whose dominion are the treasures of knowledge and memory.
Hircine, whose sphere is the Hunt, the Sport of Daedra, the Great Game, the Chase, known as the Huntsman and the Father of Manbeasts.
Malacath, whose sphere is the patronage of the spurned and ostracized, the keeper of the Sworn Oath, and the Bloody Curse.
Mehrunes Dagon, whose sphere is Destruction, Change, Revolution, Energy, and Ambition.
Mephala, whose sphere is obscured to mortals; known by the names Webspinner, Spinner, and Spider; whose only consistent theme seems to be interference in the affairs of mortals for her amusement.
Meridia, whose sphere is obscured to mortals; who is associated with the energies of living things.
Molag Bal, whose sphere is the domination and enslavement of mortals; whose desire is to harvest the souls of mortals and to bring mortal souls within his sway by spreading seeds of strife and discord in the mortal realms.
Namira, whose sphere is the ancient Darkness; known as the Spirit Daedra, ruler of sundry dark and shadowy spirits; associated with spiders, insects, slugs, and other repulsive creatures which inspire mortals with an instinctive revulsion.
Nocturnal, whose sphere is the night and darkness; who is known as the Night Mistress.
Peryite, whose sphere is the ordering of the lowest orders of Oblivion, known as the Taskmaster.
Sanguine, whose sphere is hedonistic revelry and debauchery, and passionate indulgences of darker natures.
Sheogorath, whose sphere is Madness, and whose motives are unknowable.
Vaernima, whose sphere is the realm of dreams and nightmares, and from whose realm issues forth evil omens.
[Especially marked for special interest under the heading "Malacath" you find a reference to SCOURGE, blessed by Malacath, and dedicated to the use of mortals. In short, the reference suggests that any Daedra attempting to invoke the weapon's powers will be expelled into the voidstreams of Oblivion.]
"Of the legendary artifacts of the Daedra, many are well known, like Azura's Star, and Sheogorath's Wabbajack. Others are less well known, like Scourge, Mackkan's Hammer, Bane of Daedra...."
"...yet though Malacath blessed Scourge to be potent against his Daedra kin, he thought not that it should fall into Daedric hands, then to serve as a tool for private war among caitiff and forsaken. Thus did Malacath curse the device such that, should any dark kin seek to invoke its powers, that a void should open and swallow that Daedra, and purge him into Oblivion's voidstreams, from thence to pathfind back to the Real and Unreal Worlds in the full order of time."
"So you found the wedding dress? Good job! I'm sure Vilja will be happy to get her wedding dress back. It has been used by the women in our family for generations," Matthis said. "You did a good job - of course I would have managed on my own, but together we are invincible, my friend! As for the other things in the container, they are for the two of you as well. I'm sure that Vilja will be particularly happy over the strawberries. She specifically asked her mother to bring some strawberry plants, so that she will be able to make you strawberry pies. Now, let's move on... Vilja and the rest of the family should be waiting for us at the Bee and Barb in Riften," he continued.
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Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 10:16 pm
We passed by Red Road Pass. There was the bards lute to get back from those giants...
From there it was back home to Lakeview. I introduced Matthis to Lucia and Sofie, my two adoptive daughters...
The next day we were off to Riften...
The civilians scrambled for saftey as the dragon appered...
Fortunately there were no casualties. Madesi got some severe burns, but nothing healing couldn't cure. Two of the guards were also a bit singed as were some of us, but nothing major. Once the beast was dead, the astounded crowd flocked around...
... Well, what to expect when they've never seen a dragon before - and certainly not one being killed by a Dragonborn.
From there it was back home to Lakeview. I introduced Matthis to Lucia and Sofie, my two adoptive daughters...
The next day we were off to Riften...
The civilians scrambled for saftey as the dragon appered...
Fortunately there were no casualties. Madesi got some severe burns, but nothing healing couldn't cure. Two of the guards were also a bit singed as were some of us, but nothing major. Once the beast was dead, the astounded crowd flocked around...
... Well, what to expect when they've never seen a dragon before - and certainly not one being killed by a Dragonborn.
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Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 10:20 pm
"Hi, I'm Mogens. Are you really the Dragonborn?" "Is it true that you are the Dragonborn? You don't look like a Dragonborn," Tindra said. "It's true," I said. "You can ask your Father and take a look at the skeleton outside if you don't believe it. But hurry before the guards dispose of Everything," I continued. Matthis nodded. "Hi there! I'm Melinda, Vilja's older sister. It's great to finally meet you - Vilja has talked so much about you in her letters. You and I must have a good, long chat one of these days." "Tell me something about Vilja," I said. "Have you ever challenged Vilja in arm wrestling? I would Think twice Before doing so... she is really good at it! Vilja is really ticklish, did you know that? Once Mom had made a Cream cake, and Vilja was supposed to carry it to the kitchen table. Mogens put a finger in her waist, and she yelled and dropped the cake! Oh, she was so mad, because she had really been looking forward to that cake. Instead, the dogs had a jolly good time eating it. Ever since Vilja was Little, she has loved to perform in front of an audience, singing, dancing and playing her flute. When no-one had time for her, she would use fire logs as the audience. She painted faces on them and lined them against the wall. Vilja loves animals, but the neighbor boy, Halvdan, has Always been really cruel to them. Vilja hated him for this! Once when he had treated a dog really badly, she had become so mad that she beat him up... in spite of that he was both older and taller than her. She beat him up so badly that he ran weeping to his mother. I think he felt really humiliated, and he deserved it," she said.
"Oh sweetheart, you're back! Did you find my wedding dress?" vilja said. "Of course I have your wedding dress," I said. "Oh, I just knew you would find it! And I'm so happy for this - the wedding ceremony wouldn't be the same without it." "I have got something else for you as well..." "Strawberries! Oh, how wonderful! I told Mother to bring some for me, it's the only thing I really miss here in Skyrim. While you were away, Mom and I talked to the Priest of Mara, and he is already preparing our wedding ceremony. The wedding ceremony will take Place tomorrow at the temple here in Riften, at ant time after 10 o'clock in the morning. Until then, I need some time on my own to fix up the dress and make myself Beautiful. Besides, you are not supposed to see me in my outfit until the ceremony takes Place, because that would mean bad luck. So, please wait here in the Been and Barb until it's time for the ceremony. Then we'll meet inside the temple. Bye for now, and don't get too drunk. There's no reason to be nervous. Oh, and one more thing... I do love you... very muvh," she said.
"So, you Think you can steal my girl just like that?" Halvdan said. "You're pathetic!" I told him. "Pathetic? I'll show you who's pathetic!"
"Ah, here's the proud groom now. Let's begin the ceremony," Maramal said.
"Oh sweetheart, you're back! Did you find my wedding dress?" vilja said. "Of course I have your wedding dress," I said. "Oh, I just knew you would find it! And I'm so happy for this - the wedding ceremony wouldn't be the same without it." "I have got something else for you as well..." "Strawberries! Oh, how wonderful! I told Mother to bring some for me, it's the only thing I really miss here in Skyrim. While you were away, Mom and I talked to the Priest of Mara, and he is already preparing our wedding ceremony. The wedding ceremony will take Place tomorrow at the temple here in Riften, at ant time after 10 o'clock in the morning. Until then, I need some time on my own to fix up the dress and make myself Beautiful. Besides, you are not supposed to see me in my outfit until the ceremony takes Place, because that would mean bad luck. So, please wait here in the Been and Barb until it's time for the ceremony. Then we'll meet inside the temple. Bye for now, and don't get too drunk. There's no reason to be nervous. Oh, and one more thing... I do love you... very muvh," she said.
"So, you Think you can steal my girl just like that?" Halvdan said. "You're pathetic!" I told him. "Pathetic? I'll show you who's pathetic!"
"Ah, here's the proud groom now. Let's begin the ceremony," Maramal said.
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Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 10:22 pm
"I love weddings! Thank you so much for inviting me!" Sindra said. "I know, sweetheart, I know. Believe me, I felt the same on my wedding day. It's a wonderful thing to be marrying for love," Idegun said. "Yes... yes, it is..." Vilja said. "Vilja is the prettiest bride I have ever seen," Sindra said. "Vilja's wedding dress is so pretty!" Tindra said. "Don't give Tindra any mead! Mom would get furious," Vilja told me. "Mother, could you please keep quiet! Yes, I know you were a Beautiful bride and ye, I know that you want me to marry, but this is not the time to nag!" Falanu said.
"When I left the Temple after the wedding ceremony, I Heard some strange rumours. I Heard that a Young man from solstheim had just been slain right outside the Temple. They say the killer was some mad-looking maniac. Did you by any chance hear or see anything on your way to the Temple?" Heneri said. "Yes, it was Vilja's stalker and I killed him," I said. "You know, I kind of imagined this... I guess from the desrciption of the killer. Mad-looking maniac. He-he-he!! Anyway... the strange thing was this: after the killer left, an old witch arrived to the Place. She uttered a strange Nordic chant and... the Young man started to Breathe again. Then she warapped him in a big sack and dragged him away. I would really love to learn that chant. Then I could fill my house with handsome Young warriors who would adore me as I saved their lives. Who knows, maybe I could even find a husband for Falanu." "Where did the witch take the Young man?" "I only Heard the people gossiping, my friend, so how would I know? Now, don't you worry about that. Go and enjoy your wedding instead. I just love weddings!" she said.
A couple of hours later, we had left Riften and were passing by Shor's Wtchtower. The guards had been massacred...
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Nemo sine vitio est.
Wotan- Posts : 3379
Join date : 2020-04-27
Age : 58
Location : Danderyd / Sweden
Re: The Shezarrine - a Skyrim story
by Wotan Wed May 06, 2020 10:28 pm
Cragslane Cavern...
There was of course a reason we were here. Normal newlyweds would spend more intimate time together, but I was helping Mirai...
The bandits had a sweet setup here, earning gold from gamblers betting on pit fights between wolves - and getting high on Skooma.
"Here's the 4th page," I told my young companion. "Might wanna stand back..." she said.
"Are you alright?" I asked. "Yeah, I mean I feel fine... just different. It's hard to explain what this feels like. I just feel... full. I don't know. Well, just one more to go. Let's hope it's not some elaborate cook book or something," Mirai said.
We sold our loot at the Warmaiden's in Whiterun. Then the road took us all the way to Solitude...
"I recovered your flute," I told Panthea Anteia. "That's it! Wonderful! I knew I could Count on you. I don't have any Money to give you, but I can show you a few tricks I learned playing for the Winterhold wizards," she said.
"The innkeeper of the Frozen Hearth in Winterhold Thinks a bard performance would attract new visitors. I doubt it, but that's just my opinion," Wilbert said.
https://ibb.co/vP22RMx
Vilja and I got some quality time together when we got back home...
"I have made a strawberry pie for you. Now that we have strawberry plants, I will try to make strawberry pies and cakes for you ever so often," she said.
There was of course a reason we were here. Normal newlyweds would spend more intimate time together, but I was helping Mirai...
The bandits had a sweet setup here, earning gold from gamblers betting on pit fights between wolves - and getting high on Skooma.
"Here's the 4th page," I told my young companion. "Might wanna stand back..." she said.
"Are you alright?" I asked. "Yeah, I mean I feel fine... just different. It's hard to explain what this feels like. I just feel... full. I don't know. Well, just one more to go. Let's hope it's not some elaborate cook book or something," Mirai said.
We sold our loot at the Warmaiden's in Whiterun. Then the road took us all the way to Solitude...
"I recovered your flute," I told Panthea Anteia. "That's it! Wonderful! I knew I could Count on you. I don't have any Money to give you, but I can show you a few tricks I learned playing for the Winterhold wizards," she said.
"The innkeeper of the Frozen Hearth in Winterhold Thinks a bard performance would attract new visitors. I doubt it, but that's just my opinion," Wilbert said.
https://ibb.co/vP22RMx
Vilja and I got some quality time together when we got back home...
"I have made a strawberry pie for you. Now that we have strawberry plants, I will try to make strawberry pies and cakes for you ever so often," she said.
_________________
Nemo sine vitio est.
Wotan- Posts : 3379
Join date : 2020-04-27
Age : 58
Location : Danderyd / Sweden
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