Welcome to my fanfic. I've been planning on posting this up for some time now. Now that I have the first 10,000 words or so down seperately, I feel ready to post some stuff up here. I hope you will all enjoy reading it as it develops. I haven't a clue how much I will write eventually, if I manage to finish it. But it will likely be very, very long. Indeed, there's an excellent chance that I'll finish writing a Skyrim fan fiction before (if) I finish this!

The Famous Five is an unusual fan fiction. It takes the form of a historical commentary/synthesised text written some 90 years after the events of Oblivion, and relies rather heavily on my own creative license to fill in some historical gaps in between 4E2, when the stories end, and 4E85 when the book is written (I should add, I have not read any Elder-Scrolls related lore works, such as the Infernal City).

This work weaves together the stories of five different characters that I roleplayed in Oblivion, and I hope to include some of my minor characters in it too. Subject to approval, it may also be nice to include some other chorrol.com members' fanfic characters in it too. It would be entertaining to see the outcome of a meeting between Luther Martinus (who you will get to know) and, say, Buffy or Teresa, for certain!

At present, I regrettably do not have screenshots; however, I hope to add some in future if and when I can get Oblivion for PC.

This is my first attempt at writing a fan fiction. I have thought about it for a while, though. I welcome critique of my writing as well as positive comments. I have not planned most of the fanfic, but have a general plan of how it will pan out. It will include actual in-game events, relationships and quests which inspired my roleplaying, and be supplemented with whatever ideas take my fancy at the time of writing.

Below is the prologue and the first entry. I plan to update every few days to a week, depending on how much I can write. This will vary. At times, I may not update for a while. I do, however, hope to persevere with this and update pretty regularly.

Happy reading!

Evening Star 28, 4E85 - Bruma - a young, wide-eyed Nord named Hjallfred Skrollsen excitedly opens his copy of the new book by Harald Steel-Quill. It contains accounts of the lives of five legendary historical figures who lived around the time of Martin Septim, for some the greatest of all the Septims. Sitting in the dining hall of the Bruma Mages Guild, destroyed and rebuilt about this time, he feels the leather cover of the book and begins to read, as alert as can be, even though it is late and a nearby candle slowly burns the midnight oil....





Children of Bruma, Skyrim, and the world of Tamriel beyond, I am Harald Steel-Quill, a humble Nord scholar. It is my great pleasure and joy to reproduce this volume, which contains writings from the very pens of some of the bravest heroes, most valiant heroines, and most powerful champions - as well as some of the most dastardly villains - who lived during this defining epoch of the history of Cyrodiil.

The historical accuracy of the accounts of the five figures I provide is subject to some debate. In addition to their stories, I add my scholarly opinion on them, although I take care not to break up the flow of events too much, and will attempt to keep my passions to one side as much as possible.

Although this is the first book to combine all five figures together, some work has been done with individual texts. Of these, the memoirs of Luther Martinus, the one-time Champion of Cyrodiil, are by far the most popular, and have been reproduced numerous times sympathetically by Imperial historians since 4E64, when Ida Ottus published a glowing tribute in memory of his life, adding her own thoughts to Martinus' in a large volume.

Martinus' account is not based on his journals from the time of his travels, fragments of which were discovered hidden in the library in Cloud Ruler Temple's (now unused) halls in 4E62, the year after his death. They were, on the contrary, written in the early Fourth Era, when political tensions were on the rise and the provinces were daring to talk of secession with no emperor in place to command their obedience. Martinus blames much of this on the Cyrodilic arms of the Mages'’Guild, for failing to support his short-lived and failed initiatives to stamp out daedra worship in Cyrodiil, promote recruitment for the Imperial Legion, and unite the Imperial population in Cyrodiil behind the Nine Divines as measures to combat separatism from the provinces, where the Chapel is often notoriously weak. In areas where Martinus' account is, in my view, grossly misleading, I state this and give reasons outlining why I think this.

I should state at this point that, for those Imperials reading this who would view my words as an attack on the great man, who rightly continues to be much revered throughout Cyrodiil and all Tamriel, and whose statue still stands not far from my home here in Bruma, that this is not my intention. But, he is not some infallible god. His words must have the same value as any other's, for the scholar.

As a further scholarly point, although Martinus is sometimes vague about dates and in undoubtedly somewhat biased, his memory (or perhaps imagination) is excellent, and he leaves us an account of his great feats that almost matches in detail that of the next most popular figure.

The Arch-Mage Gwenyan's diaries are a priceless historical resource. Written no more than a day or two after the events they describe in virtually every instance, and brilliantly preserved in the Mages' Guild's Mystic Archives, they give a window into her views as they were at the time. Hers is also written more eloquently and in greater detail than any of the other five protagonists I profile here, and her sharp memory recalls a stunningly high level of detail even when her accounts are written a couple of days after the events. In certain cases, she is a better and more trustworthy source for overlapping events than Martinus, and she can be used to show examples of the weaknesses of his Memoirs. She talks about her journeys and relationships in Cyrodiil. Occasionally, she crosses paths with Martinus, and although she reports that their meeting in 3E433 was cordial, Martinus says otherwise. The two disagree irrevocably over Martinus' initiatives in 4E2, as official records and the views of those present testify to.

The illiterate Berrick, a Fighters' Guild mercenary and soldier, also tells us his stories through a man called Azzan, who has written them down (months after the end of the Oblivion Crisis, while the political atmosphere was still one of relief rather than the provincial strife of later years). These have been preserved in the Anvil Fighters Guild library, and passed down to subsequent Guildmasters. The courageous Redguard is known to have fought alongside Luther Martinus at Kvatch, and earns praise from the Champion in the latter's Memoirs. He also describes other battles with a dangerous organisation known as the Blackwood Company, which, if Fighters' Guild and Black Horse Courier references from the period are to be believed, we can but be thankful are no longer with us.

This present work also presents the writings of a Breton thief named 'Marie le Belle' (real name: Marie Elena Motierre). She is not a key historical player in the sense that the above figures are, and her story is mostly unrelated to those of the figures given above, save for one instance, mentioned in both hers and Gwenyan's writings, where she apparently stole a very powerful staff from the Arcane University. She is, however, something of a cult hero in the Waterfront District of the Imperial City, where she was admired and loved by many poor citizens. Songs of 'Golden Marie' continue to ring out in this neighbourhood down to this day. My book will show that, in truth, rather than the kind, merciful girl of legend, she was at best selfish, and at worst, manipulative and rather vindictive. Her writings were found by a member of the Chorrol Mages' Guild who bought the Motierres' family home in Chorrol in 4E33 and donated the writings to the Imperial Library. Not much has been done to popularise them, however. 'le Belle' writes in the form of a diary, which she updates every few days, and contains much of interest.

Of the last figure that I describe, I have little positive to say. I would say much that is negative, save for the fact that it is unnecessary to do so, as his 'memories', recorded by him as the events occurred and kept in the abominable Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary in Cheydinhal until found at a crime scene just two years ago, for unknown reasons - incriminate him entirely. It is believed that he disappeared years ago, last seen sometime around 4E2, although no-one knows where he went. He is also an infrequent writer, and seems to have long gaps where his absence of self-reported activity is baffling, as he has never been conclusively pinned down, nor arrested - indeed the discovery of his diaries solved a number of long-standing murder cases that had previously stumped the Imperial Legion, including the death of a man named Baenlin here in Bruma. According to his diary, he did not even spare his own 'family' in the Cheydinhal sanctuary and he 'took as much pleasure in killing them, as he did any other - their blood is as bountiful as that of any who has been called to their fate by Sithis.'

Our account begins with the story of Gwenyan - the future Arch-Mage of the Mages Guild, for now a humble student of magic.




Luther Martinus, Imperial. b. Skingrad, Cyrodiil, 3E400 d. Skingrad, Cyrodiil, 4E61 (age 94)
Gwenyan, Altmer. b. Alinor, Summerset Isle, 3E343 (age at time of writing: 176)
Berrick, Redguard. b. Hammerfell, 3E410 d. Anvil, Cyrodiil, 4E23 (age 47)
Marie le Belle, Breton. b. High Rock, 3E415 d. Imperial City 4E2 (age 20)
Fenrir Darkblade, Dunmer. Age and date of birth unknown. It is unclear if he is still alive, as he has not been seen or heard from since 4E2. Dunmer have a significant lifespan - several hundred years in some cases - and it is quite possible he is still alive somewhere.

The White Rose is gently rocking back and forth over the waves, as I think about what I am leaving behind – a tremendous civilisation, with the greatest mastery in magicka in all the Empire. And where I am going. To Cyrodiil, the home of White Gold Tower. What a landmark! I am both excited to visit a new place and sad at leaving my home.

On the ship is a motley group of travellers, mostly fellow Altmer, of various classes. Seamen reside on the bottom deck for free, and travelling merchants and casual holidayers on the middle deck, where beds of basic quality may be found, as opposed to the filthy bedrolls the seamen must endure. They pay, as I found out from a struggling alchemist named Morwen, some 20 septims for their journey, not including food which they must buy themselves. It is an outrage that the sea captains can get away with this! I am presently on the upper deck, which cost 100 septims to reserve a bed in.

In my pouch I now carry with me some 200 gold. I wonder how far that will get me in Cyrodiil? It is said that many merchants in the Imperial City are so canny as to persuade you to buy a second-hand pair of rough leather shoes for 10 gold septims! Such was the story from Morwen, anyway. I recall her weathered appearance – she dressed smartly, as all merchants must to exude credibility and respectability – but in a rather basic brown shirt and tan linen skirt. Her coinpurse did not jingle very loudly, and her middle-aged face seemed creased as if as a result of the tough negotiations she went through daily to make ends meet. She carried a few basic potions to sell, plus her alchemical equipment. I would hazard a guess that she is around 300, about halfway through an Altmer’s typical lifespan, but her face looks much older. To tell the truth, I did feel sorry for her. Certainly, I cannot understand her situation – our family has always done well for ourselves, for all the 87 years I have been on Nirn. My coinpurse, at least, will be topped up by payments from my parents, deposited into an account in the Office of Imperial Commerce regularly.

This is an account of my voyage thus far into Cyrodiil, from my home in Alinor, which began yesterday and which will, if Azura wills it, land me safely in Anvil by tomorrow morning. I feel nervous and apprehensive about my journey, and do not know what will come of it. Yet, it is what I have to do. My parents are great healers, as I wish to be, and yet both had to overcome hardship to reach their positions in the royal court in Alinor. My father, as he often told me, had to move from Firsthold, on the other side of the Isle to take up his apprenticeship, at great cost and risk to himself, as he was not wealthy. Living outside Summerset Isle, perhaps, is the price I will have to pay for my future prosperity, as did my father. I shall miss it.

Interesting idea, using a scholarly account of five figures to tell the story of Oblivion's five major questlines. I can see right through the looking glass, though, don't think for one second I know what you're doing in the background!

I like the direction you are taking so far, and will return as frequently as I can to see the Oblivion Crisis from your eyes.

I hope to see more from you very soon! I am most intrigued, and I like what I see so far!

I do have a few suggestions for your writing:

I would recommend italicizing your first paragraph (or something else) to better differentiate that it is not a part of the book that you are penning here.

I'm noticing your sentence lengths are quite long in many areas, sometimes taking up half of your paragraphs. A couple examples (I have bolded my edits):

Evening Star 28, 4E85 – Bruma – a young, wide-eyed Nord named Hjallfred Skrollsen excitedly opens his copy of the new book by Harald Steel-Quill{.} It contains accounts of the lives of five legendary historical figures who lived around the time of Martin Septim, for some the greatest of all the Septims.

This sentence can easily be split in two where I have indicated.

Martinus’ account is not based on his journals from the time of his travels, fragments of which were discovered hidden in the library in Cloud Ruler Temple’s (now unused) halls in 4E62, the year after his death{.} They were written in the early Fourth Era, when political tensions were on the rise and the provinces were daring to talk of secession with no emperor in place to command their obedience.

Again here, this sentence can be very easily separated at this point. The reason you don't want sentences to be too long is because too many commas makes the sentence feel like it is rambling. I understand that many published authors like to use lengthy sentences, but they like to keep a diverse usage of punctuation in them. Using only commas in a sentence four lines long is not very graceful or interesting to the reader.

(months after the end of the Oblivion Crisis, while the political atmosphere was still one of relief rather than the provincial strife of later years)

If the selection inside the parentheses is this long, it's a better idea just to leave the parentheses out altogether. Try and limit yourself to five to eight word inside of parentheses. General guideline: if you need punctuation for your parenthetical selection, it's too long.

Your idea of doing this as a historical text is fascinating and inspired !! The background for each of the "Five" - well done and intriguing, as is the beginning chapter for the Arch Mage - can't wait to read more!! Great Write !!

I agree. This is an interesting premise on which to base a fan-fic. I think you have made an excellent start and I will be watching to see how this one progresses.

A few suggestions:

The Prologue of your story is the single paragraph in which you introduce Hjallfred Skrollsen. The second paragraph, which begins the body of the book penned by Harald Steel-Quill (great name, BTW) should carry the title Introduction to give the book a more scholarly feel.

In that opening paragraph (the Prologue) you state that Hjallfred is ‘Sitting in the dining hall of the Bruma Mages Guild, destroyed and rebuilt about this time,’. Since the time of his reading is the end of 4E 85, we are led to believe from that sentence that the Bruma Mages Guild was ‘destroyed and rebuilt’ in 4E 85. If this is your intent then no worries, but if you are referring to the destruction of the Bruma Guild during the time of the Oblivion Crisis then you need to be a bit more specific with the time frame:


This sentence could use some work. First thing you should do is break it down into multiple sentences. As a rule I don’t like to re-write other people’s work, but if you would indulge me for a moment:

Of these, the Memoirs of Luther Martinus, the one time Champion of Cyrodiil, are by far the most popular.
- Here we keep your opening exactly as you wrote it. However, we use italics to turn Memoirs into an actual book, underscoring its popularity.

It has been reproduced numerous times by historians, who have always treated the subject with the sympathy that attends hero worship.
- ‘sypathetically by historians since 4E64, when Ida . . .’ reads as if the book did not exist before 4E64. Ida Ottus’ glowing tribute may be considered the definitive work of scholarship on Luther Martinus, but she only added her thoughts to an existing memoir. You can also use this sentence to tie into the subsequent paragraph in which Harald takes to task those who think he is being negative toward the great man.

In the final sentence you should conclude with what exactly made Ida Ottus’ book different from the others that had come before. Did she humanize Martinus? Or was her ‘glowing tribute’ somehow considered heresy for its time?

An interesting dilemma is raised in the next paragraph. Martinus seems to blame the Mages Guild for failing to support his recruitment efforts on behalf of the Imperial Legion as well as his desire to convert everyone to worship of the Nine Divines. On the one hand it immediately raises the question of why the Mages Guild should care about who does and does not join the Legion. On the other hand, I can see that if the Mages Guild hoped to provide order in Cyrodiil after the collapse of the Septim Dynasty then they would have a vested interest in these things. I will trust that the reasons for Martinus’ animosity toward the Guild will be outlined in future chapters.

I like the way that you have maintained the professional, scholarly tone throughout the introduction. And Gwenyan’s first journal entry is interesting. I did sort of wince when you decided to make Berrick illiterate, but that is my own pet peeve and has nothing whatsoever to do with your work. Keep it up!

Thank you for the responses so far. Some good suggestions - I agree with most of them and have implemented them.

I just wanted to reply to some of the points in your post, Destri. Some very pertinent points and I am glad you have brought them up.

You mention the date of the publication of Martinus' Memoirs by Ida Ottus, and ask about how it fits in to the historical picture of the memoirs. This is not totally set in stone for me, but the basic picture is sketched out and I hope to expand on it in some time.

I have it in my mind that Martinus writes the original memoirs near to the end of his life (circa 4E50 or so, although I haven't setled on that). Then, they are widely read by the population and recieve wide acclaim in pro-Imperial circles and cautious acceptance by others. Following that, Ida Ottus's version is produced in 4E64 - it is basically full of praise and romanticism, and little else - and other Imperial historians praise it and echo a sort of consensus.

In the next 20 years, some new things are discovered and analysed (for example, the diairies of my Arch-Mage, and maybe some contradictory evidence found in Cloud Ruler Temple) which leads to a shift of opinion among some, such as my writer Mr. Steel-Quill. Naturally, pro-Imperial historians dispute this evidence.

The next thing you ask about is the interaction of the Mages' Guild and Martinus in 4E2 in deciding the future course of Imperial policy. You are right, of course, that the Mages' Guild has no interest in who does or does not join the Imperial Legion. However, as you also allude to, the Mages' Guild has vested interests in maintaining order in Cyrodiil and Tamriel, and defending its own position and power (weakened, but by no means extinguished, in the battle with the Necromancers).

The confrontation between the two is basically over a strategic disagreement between two loose political coalitions, both roughly equal in strength, over how to handle the threat of provinces seceding with no strong Emporer to command authority.

One 'pro-Cyrodilic' party is led by Martinus, who, being the saviour of the Empire, becomes a focus of support through of sheer force of personality. This coalition includes some members of the Elder Council, the Chapel, the Imperial Legion and many Imperials in Cyrodiil. It stands for an aggressive promotion of Imperial culture and influence in all parts of the Empire but especially Cyrodiil, in the hopes that this will strengthen Cyrodiil internally so that it can militarily combat seperatism.

The other 'pro-Tamrielic' party favours an inclusive approach which sees such imperialism as being more likely to cause secession than prevent it. This coalition includes the Mages' Guild, who oppose the measures as being likely to lead to violence and fragmentation of the Empire, in addition to non-Imperial citizens of Cyrodiil, minority religious groups, and sympathetic Elder Councillors. The Mages' Guild, in my mind, also has many members sympathetic to the cultural and religious pluralism which the pro-Cyrodilic party would stamp out.

Essentially it's a clash of visions. I have not fully worked out the details but the plan is to end the book with a blow-by-blow description of a heated debate in the Elder Council Chambers in 4E2, where both 'parties' (including Gwenyan and Martinus on either side) argue their case and a vote is taken to democratically decide the strategy the Empire will follow. I do not yet know whether, and if so, how, High Chancellor Ocato may figure in this. There are also likely to be some unexpected occurances at the debate!

All this is a long way off, though. At present, I am still very early in the writing of Gwenyan's diaries. It will be some time before Martinus becomes involved in the drama. He mainly describes the events of the Oblivion Crisis, which is still a few years away. Note that, for the purposes of this fan fiction, certain events will be chronologically put a few years earlier than they actually occur in Oblivion - for instance, the Mages' Guild will undergo its struggle against the Necromancers from 3E431 to 3E432 instead of 3E433/434 as in the game. This is purely to make sense of anomalies; for instance, as I did not do the Main Quest with certain characters, the landscape had not changed with them, many characters were alive that died in the Main Quest, etc. Of course it is still not perfect, but it works best this way.

As far as Berrick's illiteracy is concerned, I'd like to make clear that it is because of his background, nothing to do with race. (I know you weren't implying this, but I'd like to make it clear nonetheless.) It is purely to give me a different and creative way of telling a story (telling it through Azzan), and Berrick, being someone who relies in life mostly on his athleticism and wit, rather than learning, seems the most natural of my characters to give this role to. Indeed, we may note that two of the finest wizards in the Mages Guild are Redguard, despite what Trayvond says about mages in Hammerfell!

Oh, and I hope to have dispelled a couple of racial stereotypes with my use of two Nordic scholars as a framing device. Alessia Ottus may have claimed that 'you should not expect to find any books [in Bruma], for Nords are ignorant and are not fond of learning'. But I hope that Mr. Skrollsen and Mr. Steel-Quill have posthumously proved her assertion wrong!

Welcome to the fanfic Arena! You have an interesting concept here.

The Magnificent Seven! Famous Five! I very much look forward to seeing how you present and move among your five characters.

Right now, I'm hoping to learn more about our Altmer hopeful healer on her voyage to Anvil.

Forget the Fab Four, now we have the Famous Five!

This is an interesting and rarely used premise for a fiction, to write it as a historian. One thing I enjoyed seeing right up front as that the author openly admits that the memoirs written by some of the characters are not to be trusted. This is the kind of thing you see in IRL history books, especially when you are dealing with things like Caesar's Commentaries, etc...

I loved the name Marie le Belle (Marie Elena Motierre). Not only is it a wonderful use of the name of the pirate ship, but also a tie to Francois Motierre.

I see a interesting little nugget in the diary of our future Arch Mage as well. She is an Azurite. I guess those rumors were true about daedra worship becoming more prevalent in the Summerset Isles! A nice little bit of world-building there, and done so very lightly as many would not even consciously notice it.


nits:
Mages' Guild's Mystic Archives
There is no apostrophe in Mages Guild. The same with Fighters Guild. These threw me in the beginning too.

My first round-up of comments! How exciting.

Thomas Kaira - Thank you for your suggestions. I agree with them and have changed the sentences, and will attempt to keep comments in parentheses more brief in future. It is a feature of my writing as it is my speech in real life - I do tend to ramble!

mALX - Thanks! I toyed the idea of the historical narrative for a while before settling on it. It won't surprise you to learn that I did History at university, and of course I love Oblivion too so it was natural the two thgs would come together I suppose.Hope you continue to enjoy it!

Acadian - It may interest you to know that The Famous Five is an actual name of a book series here in Britain. Initially, I wanted to call this fanfic The Chronicles of Cyrodiil, but felt that would be plagiarising Cardboard Box. I like it, anyhow. I plan to deal with the characters one at a time, generally speaking, so we will hear the whole of Gwen's story before we get to Mr. Martinus, Berrick, etc. However, our guide on this literary voyage, Mr. Steel-Quill, will occasionally make references to other characters' views in notable events where more than one character is concerned.

Destri - I hope my last post answered your queries, but thanks again for bringing them up!

SubRosa - You are a scholar to have read Caesar's Commentaries! And thank you for noticing my subtle reference to Gwen as a devotee of Azura. Marie has quite an interesting relationship to the pirate ship, as well as a somewhat less interesting relationship to the Motierre family - I will shed more light on these things in due course.

Below, Gwenyan continues her narrative of ship life, where she describes a meeting with a fellow mage during a stopover in High Rock.

First Seed 7, 3E430

6 P.M. - The White Rose

As I write, the weather is pleasant and has been good all day, as the sun sets on the horizon. The sound of birds chirping fills the air, and on the ship, people are in good cheer for the most part.

In the last few hours, I have met a charming young Breton named Robért Permane. He arrived on ship when it made a stopover at Daggerfall in his native High Rock. Quite handsome, too! He has long, flowing brown hair, deep brown eyes and smooth skin. He is also a scholar! I introduced myself to him when I saw him looking around, a little lost and shy, perhaps because of all the Altmer who towered over him. But once we started talking, I couldn’t get him to shut up.

We talked about a lot of things. He is a new Apprentice at the Arcane University; he specializes in Destruction and Conjuration. He loves history; he has read all of Stronach K’Thojj’s 4-volume Brief History of the Empire. He says he is reading The Real Barenziah now, and is on volume 3. We shared a joke about how, irrespective of which series was actually true, the series by Mero was a much more interesting version of the truth than Stern Gamboge’s dull-as-bucketwater version.

He showed me his apprentice’s robe. “Pure green and brown felt, that. Can’t ask for lighter material. Perfect for spellcasters. They’ve modified these ones to make them waterproof, too.” Looking at the robe, it was certainly good quality, although the colour seemed distinctly uninspiring compared to the brightly coloured robes normally worn by court mages in Alinor.

After we had talked, we played some Colovian poker to pass the time. Robért tried to cheat by magically altering one of the cards, so as to change it from an eight of emeralds to an Empr. Uriel Septim VII of sapphires, to complete a full house. But I caught him in the act and cast a dispel spell just in time. Oh, if only I could see his expression again. “There. Read them and weep”, he said, before realising that he had made a real boar’s ear of things. It was positively hilarious!

We are both getting off at Anvil. I’m sure I’ll see him tomorrow morning. He’s gone now. I don’t think he felt too great after the combination of ale, sweetrolls, and being embarrassed in such a way. In fact, he left looking a little pale in the face, and I’m sure he was heading for the nearest bucket. Oh well…….

Now that was a sweet little piece of regular life. Discussing which version of Barenziah's biography is more interesting, the card game, etc... This is just the sort of thing I can read all day long. Since Robert is also headed for the Arcane University, I get the feeling that he will become a feature in Gwenyan's life. Perhaps a big feature.

he had made a real boar’s ear of things
I love this saying!

Transfiguring playing cards? Now there's a new twist on Poker! That was inspired.

Sounds like we have a couple partners-in-crime on the build. I wonder how far through the University they will go together?

Much to like here!

I was delighted to hear that you intend to primarily focus on the story of one character at a time, bringing in references to others as may be appropriate. I so enjoy the ability to focus and linger on one character instead of moving among several too rapidly.

Based on your pacing and what was presented here, I am also just happy as can be to see that it seems you intend to linger and savor things along the way. With the kind of rich goodness you provided here, that makes me a happy koala.

'After we had talked, we played some Colovian poker to pass the time. Robért tried to cheat by magically altering one of the cards, so as to change it from an eight of emeralds to an Empr. Uriel Septim VII of sapphires, to complete a full house. But I caught him in the act and cast a dispel spell just in time. Oh, if only I could see his expression again. “There. Read them and weep”, he said, before realising that he had made a real boar’s ear of things. It was positively hilarious!'
This is positively magical! Not only is it fun and entertaining, it is such a delicious blend of the familiar dropped into a TES world. Not to mention it was superbly written and shows us much of the two characters involved.

SubRosa - Thanks. I liked the 'boar's ear' expression too. I assume boars are Cyrodiil's pigs; strangely, in-game there is plenty of ham but no actual domesticated pigs. (There are also no cows for all the beef)

Thomas Kaira - We will see the partners in crime together at the University later on, of that I am fairly certain. For now, they will split-up in Anvil, as we find out in the next chapter.

Acadian- That passage was inspired by some of the things I've read here. Mixing the TES world and our world gives us some interesting opportunities for fan fictions. Plus, it seems like these things should logically exist in Tamriel. The game shows characters working, sleeping, eating and drinking, but not much else. Really, that is one aspect of the game that could have been improved, to expand on the recreational side of life in Cyrodiil.

That chapter was unfortunately a bit short due to sequencing issues. Fortunately, we have a longer one this time! In this next clipping from Gwen's diary, we see the ship dock in Anvil, and oversee our mage's first day in Cyrodiil.



First Seed 8, 3E430 Anvil, Cyrodiil.

3 P.M.

The White Rose docked in Anvil this morning. I found Robért looking distinctly unwell, after the various travellers had gone their ways. His burgundy linen shirt looked somewhat soiled, but I didn't say anything. I recall his words though: "Thank Akatosh that's over."’That's all he said. He didn't look quite so handsome now, although there was still a faint glint in his eye.

After we went our ways and had promised to meet each other later in the Count's Arms, I went for a walk down by the seafront. Not the sort of place you would want to find yourself alone on a dark night, that much is for certain. Drunken sailors abounded, and there seemed to be a rather raucous boarding house called the Fo'c's'le where they gathered. The proprietor, whom I saw as she stepped out to shout at the sailors for their drunken disorderliness, seemed to have the same problem as poor Morwen. Her arms, hands and hair said she was about 30, but her face gave out that she was 50. In fact just about everyone here looks older than they should. I imagine they have all had difficult lives, just like Morwen. It certainly is not like the world I am used to; both my parents and I have always lived rather easy and sedentary lifestyles.

As I write this, I am sitting on a beautiful bench in the centre of Anvil, just near a little pond and a statue of a mermaid. Looking at my reflection in the water, I see a woman whose face suggests a life of ease. My long, satin blonde hair cascades down to my shoulders, touching the black and burgundy outfit I am currently wearing. My brown eyes are devoid of any signs of age. When I think about the pitiful lifespans of humans, I despair. I probably have another 220 years of relative youth to look forward to; they have to fit so much into the 60 years or so the gods give them. They have some 25 years in which to bear children. It is so unfair. Of course, we Altmer are rightly the recipients of greater lifespans than the lesser races, but it still moves me with pity to see human women struggle against their handicaps. What might-

8 P.M.

I was forced to stop my earlier entry. A nearby guard, named Langley, had been looking over my shoulder. At least, I think he had. Maybe it was just me thinking he was? Anyway, he was friendly enough when we got to talking. He told me that a lot of ships came in through Anvil. I asked him how I could get to the Imperial City from here. He replied that there were two options: walk, or use a horse. The roads were the best way, he said, as they were patrolled by legionnaires and lots of travellers also passed along them. Horses here are so expensive, though! 4,000 septims? I am sure the white mares are fine creatures, but unfortunately well beyond my budget. I shall have to walk.

I am now sipping wine in the Count's Arms. Robért looks much better now that he has changed his clothes. He is wearing his robes now. I must say, he looks rather dashing in them. Perhaps it's the three goblets of wine that I've consumed. We discussed travelling to the Imperial City together, but he says he wants to stay in Anvil for a while. "Plus," he said, "you'd probably take all my money from me at Colovian poker, anyway."

10 P.M.

I have just re-read my letter from Raminus Polus at the University.

Dear Gwenyan,

We are most pleased to welcome you to the Mages Guild here in Cyrodiil, following the enquiry of your father, Caliphar.

You will find our headquarters at the Arcane University in the Imperial City. Here you will find the finest magical facilities in the whole province, as well as many like-minded mages such as yourself. You will also find expert tutors who will be able to help you reach your utmost potential as a student of the arts magicka.

Should you be successful at the University, there is potential for a superb career with the guild.

We look forward to meeting you.

Yours,

Raminus Polus

Master-Wizard/Chief assistant to Arch-Mage Hannibal Traven

I can't wait to see it!

I have just counted my gold. I have a mere 189 septims left.

Poor Robért! At least as he said, it is all over now! You gave me a great smile with Gwen's description of the poor Breton.

I loved Gwen's moment of reflection in the pond. You show us so much about her. Not only her own appearance, but most especially her feelings of sympathy for the shorter-lived races (this is something the game ignores completely, but in reality the vast differences in life-spans would put huge barriers between elves and humans). You even allowed a trace of that Altmer haughtiness creep in!

For a moment I read this:
Master-Wizard/Chief assistant
and thought Chef assistant! I blame Thomas Kaira!

Again, a very enjoyable episode of the Fab Five. I look forward to seeing more!


nits:
Purely a flavor based comment, and feel perfectly in your rights to ignore it. Numbers in print often look better when they are spelled out as words, rather than put in numerals. Twenty five instead of 25.

but it still moves me with pity to see human women struggle against their handicaps. What might
You missed something at the end here, after What might.

Like SubRosa, I thoroughly enjoyed Gwen's perspective on elves versus those. . . lesser races. She oozes Altmer, but by showing us her perspective, you allow her to wear it as naturally as that black and burgandy outfit.

I also quite like that she has been accepted directly into the University. Whether this is due purely to her family connection or her mage status in her homeland, either way it seems perfect for her story.

I must confess that as a character-driven fiction fan, I was a tad concerned we might be off on a historical study moving too quickly among characters to get to know them. However, if what you present so far is any indication, I can tell you I'm going to love this!

SubRosa - Thanks for your comments. I often find that, as I go back and read over my work, I add more little reflections and thoughts like that which did not occur to me the first time I wrote the passage. Although the age difference is a theme that I have planned and will occur irregularly but often in Gwen's thoughts.

Incidentally, 'What might' wasn't strictly meant to be a complete sentence - she is being interrupted by Langley and loses her train of thought when she returns to the journal. That's how it was meant to appear anyway!

Acadian - Do watch this space with regard to Gwen's university career. Just between you and me, there may be a little twist in the tale coming soon. I am glad you are enjoying the fan fiction so far. I have taken your comments to heart and am trying to continue to include as much of our writer's thoughts as possible, to keep it from being dull and predictable.

Next up: Gwen begins to make her way to the Imperial City, but not without a hitch along the way....



First Seed 10, 3E430 – West Weald Inn, Skingrad

11 A.M.

I am in shock. I have just arrived in the safety of a town called Skingrad, where I have finally been able to find an inkwell and quill, but what a journey I have had! I was almost seriously injured yesterday, but it turned out alright, thank Azura. This is what happened.

The path out of Anvil brought me to a crazy Khajiit; he called himself ‘Mai’q the Liar’ and the guards nearby told me not to bother; they had already tried, and failed, to get any sense out of him. When I walked past him, he rambled some nonsense, then ran past me at the speed of lightning.

The path continued fairly uneventfully; a couple of travellers rode past on their horses and greeted me. Then, out of nowhere, a thuggish beast who I guessed to be another Khajiit accosted me. Equipped with a warhammer, I certainly wasn’t going to argue with him and dropped some gold on the ground.

Not satisfied with this, he said “All of it, this one wants. Now.” But I needed the money to survive until I reached the Imperial City and that fat deposit, so I tried to run away, my coinpurse jingling loudly, my long legs pumping as fast as they could, but alas, rather slowly, my great strides being the only thing keeping me ahead. I could feel him catching me, as the swings of his giant hammer at one point got close enough to disturb the air behind my back. Terrified, I ran even faster, doing all I could to avoid being crushed by it.

Just as I felt I was about to run out of breath, and with the Khajiit still close enough for me to hear him cursing: “DIE, damn you!”, I heard the clank of heavy armour nearby. A grey-suited figure came to my aid, shouting: “You dare oppose the might…..of the IMPERIAL LEGION?!”. I guess this was one of the legionnaires that Langley had told me about. He impressively parried the warhammer with his shield, which stunned the Khajiit. Following through with his longsword, he cleaved through the Khajiit’s leather armour like a hot knife through butter. The Khajiit yelped in pain and dropped his hammer, upon which the grey-suited colossus finished off the beast with two long strokes of his blade.

When I had recovered my breath, the figure was standing over me. I lifted my head and gave him my sincere gratitude. Then I noticed his shield arm had been nastily dislocated. The Legion soldier had been either too brave or too stupid to notice this during the battle, but had now dropped his shield and was holding the arm gingerly.

With this, I offered to heal him. It wasn’t easy. A dislocation like this, or a limb break, needed several Convalescence spells to recover from properly, and I didn’t know anything more powerful. By the time I was finished, I was drained.

He searched the body of the Khajiit and said: “It would seem you weren’t his first victim this week. Look at all this gold……550 septims! Well, I think that, since you healed me, it’s only right we should split it halfways.” Frankly, I felt fortunate simply at not being a bloody pulp, but I gratefully accepted. Moreover, the Legion soldier even escorted me back to the gold I had dropped before, and then to the relative safety of the Gottshaw Inn nearby, where I was able to get a meal and a room.

I cannot relate in words just how terrified I was at the time. I had never had to deal with such a situation before, and I still shudder to think how close I came to ending my life prematurely. Of course, it didn’t matter to Khajiit – their lives being even more pitifully short than humans, and having five or six children at a time – why wouldn’t they take a chance in combat? That cat-man probably cared not a jot that he had a chance of dying, when his life was destined to be so short anyway. Anyway, I have survived. That is all that matters.

The following morning, I did not leave the safety of the inn until I saw a legionnaire trotting past on his horse. I asked him if he would escort me to Skingrad, and he agreed to do so, saying: “We’re here to serve, citizen”.

I am now upstairs in the guest room, in the West Weald Inn, Skingrad. The room cost 20 precious gold, but it is worth it. It’s the first place in Cyrodiil where I’ve felt really at home. There is a nice room with a wardrobe, desk, chair, and a beautiful bed decked out in red and gold trim. The Count’s Arms had a similar bed, but the room was rather bare and the proprietor stared at me a lot. The Gottshaw Inn, meanwhile, had a friendly proprietor named Foroch, an amiable little Bosmer, but the bed was substandard. I rather like this place. I think I shall stay here a while. Most of all, I will be safe here, thank Azura.

For the "What might", add a trailing dash like so: "What might-" to the end of the sentence. That will show that it was interrupted.

grey-suited colossus
A lovely description of a legionary.

Once again, I loved the subtle racism on the part of Gwen as she reflected on how naturally a Khajiit (or as she once referred to him - beast) would have no regard for their life. This is an excellent way of portraying someone bred in Summerset, the hoityest, toitest place in Tamriel.

I so enjoyed this delightful episode!

I agree with SubRosa how cleverly you weave in Gwen's racial superiority. The beastly cat people with their pitifully short lives dropping litters of replacements at a time. The Imperial - stupid enough to be brave. The amiable little Bosmer that one would pat on the head like a puppy perhaps. And all of this flows so gently and naturally from Gwen. How could one not love her despite this? Quite the talent for her you have and I was smiling all the way through this episode!

An exciting chase and rescue! By Mara, gotta love those Legion soldiers! And Gwen is clever enough to secure her own escort to the safety of Skingrad. Another soldier or two and she will be safely in the IC, I hope.

Acadian - Thanks for your observations on our gal's casual racism. It will be one of the themes of the early part of her diary, although she will evolve. The thing to remember is that her ignorance of other races is not indicative of any genuine prejudice, merely her biased beliefs which, let's face it, most Altmer share, and why wouldn't they, given their obvious mental brilliance?

SubRosa - again, thanks for observing the hoity-toitiness of the mage student, and for your other comments. And thanks for reading and commenting freqeuntly. The reason I wrote 'What might' without a dash following it was because it seemed more natural (if writing a diary, you probably wouldn't anticipate beng interrupted). Although I realise now it had the potential for confusion. Agreed and amended.

Well, Gwen didn't have such an easy ride from Anvil to Skingrad, did she? Let's see how she gets on on the journey from Skingrad to the Imperial City, which spans a couple of days.



First Seed 13, 3E430

4 P.M.

I have just barely recovered from my scare the other day. Skingrad is a wonderful town, with friendly residents. My hotel room provides all the comforts of home, but it isn’t cheap. Sadly, I shall have to leave tomorrow.

I visited the Mages’ Guild on my first day here, which was a Sundas, so all the mages were off duty and enjoying a good meal and fine wine. I spoke to the mages there and showed them my letter from Raminus. Then I told them about about my run-in with the highwayman. One mage, who introduced himself as Sulinus Vassinus, gave the following advice: next time this happened, a nice big fireball was the best response.
I replied that my destruction skills were not quite up to scratch. Showing him, I summoned up the largest fireball I could. It was little bigger than an apple.

“I see.” said Vassinus. “So maybe you aren’t a ‘blowing things up’ type of mage. Try going invisible, instead.”
When I explained I couldn’t do this either, but was quite good at Restoration, Alteration and Mysticism, he said: “Ah, don’t worry. They’ll teach you well at the University. If you can get there.”

I didn’t understand what he meant by that. The other mages re-assured me. A tall, yet soft-spoken Nord named Vigge told me that his first experiments at the university inevitably ended in him blowing something up……and not in a good way. He laughed and said, “you’d have to be pretty incompetent to get dismissed from the University. After all, if a joke like Jeanne Frasoric can make Wizard rank, why……you should be Arch-Mage in no time.”* I am not so sure I will be Arch-Mage, but forging a respectable career at the University is my goal in the next 20 years. It is a relief to be re-assured.

*Editor’s note: I have singled out this comment because it is remarkably incidental, prophetic even, given the actual later meteoric rise of the diary’s author, who, from becoming an Apprentice in 3E430, achieved Wizard rank in 3E431 and became Arch-Mage in 3E432. The progression usually takes a lifetime, although in this case was undoubtedly influenced by the unusual circumstances in which the Mages Guild found itself at the time of the High Elf’s appointment as Arch-Mage.

Having met with the mages on Sundas, I spent the Morndas and Tirdas exploring the town. Skingrad’s chapel and castle stood out as landmarks. The chapel looks functional and imposing rather than beautiful, although the stained-glass windows are delightful. The castle is another thing altogether – fine gothic architecture and beautifully dressed servants. I wonder who the ruler is in these parts? I know Cyrodiil is governed locally by counts, but the count here was absent. His servants and guardsmen seemed polite though, with one exception. One middle-aged Imperial, dressed in green brocade. As my eyes met his, I felt I was able to detect coldness in them. That hardly mattered, however. I survived a savage attack a mere two days ago. A mere look was the least of my worries.

Tirdas was a day spent outside. Skingrad has a great variety of wild fruit. The vineyards here are accompanied by a tomato field and several blackberry and strawberry bushes. I imagine this would be a nice place to live.

I wonder what I will find on the road tomorrow? No more highwaymen, I hope. Looking at my map, I can see I am about halfway to the Imperial City. The journey should take one day or so.

I have counted my gold; I now have 322 gold septims.

First Seed 14, 3E430 – Wawnet Inn, near Imperial City

I arrived safely near the Imperial City and am presently lodged in a tavern known as the Wawnet Inn. Too exhausted to write any more.

First Seed 15, 3E430

9 A.M.

I feel refreshed this morning. The Wawnet Inn is basic, but the view out onto the countryside is beautiful. Yesterday’s journey saw me safely from Skingrad to the Imperial City without incident. On the way, I stopped at a little village named Pell’s Gate. The people there kindly offered to make me a meal, for a small consideration. I still have 276 septims remaining. About 35 septims were lost on dinner last night. Wawnet Inn offers roast boar meat for a reasonable 25 gold. I have spent the last few days eating common mutton. This is simply no good! A bottle of wine washed it down. The publican here is a wine connoisseur, and shared some tips for drinking it with me. I must admit that while Cyrodiil’s wines are no match for the finest Summurset wines, they are good. I shall leave for the big city now!

I liked the little discussion around the dinner table. The mention of Jeanne Frasoric was especially good. She is proof that one needs no magical ability to go far in the Mages Guild. Let's hope that Gwen is better than that though!

So Gwen stopped at the Wawnet Inn? I wonder if she enjoyed Nerussa's company as much as Teresa did?

No, Gwen does not enjoy women's company in that way. Although, we will see her strike up a friendship with Nerussa later. She, I suspect, would prefer Robért's company in that way, but that is also something that will be developed as we go on.

I am really enjoying the "daily journal" effect, as if we are peeking into her diary - Awesome and novel idea to use that approach !! You have a talent for subtle humor, and I love it !! Awesome Write !!

Once again, I like how this has a personal and immediate feel. Except for the editor's note, I happily forgot that I was reading a history. The diary format permits you to bounce forward at virtually any pace, based on the whims of the diary keeper. You are using this aspect to wonderful effect.

A lovely description of Skingrad. I particularly enjoyed reading Gwen's take on the guild of mages.

I think it was simply brilliant to end by Gwen pointing out that of course Summerset wines are superior to those non-Altmeri Cyrodiil wines! Speaking of which, you spelled the province as 'Summurset' in your last sentence, which I presume is unintentional.

I am enjoying Gwen’s journal format very much. Her comment that she is too exhausted to write one night, along with her ongoing tally of Septims are great reminders. She starts off with some very uninformed opinions about other races, which makes me think we’ll see her grow along her journey. I take that as a very good sign for the story.

Acadian - I am glad that you enjoy the personal touches. I like to add the thoughts of Mr. Steel-Quill from time to time, too, to remember that this is just part of an over-arching narrative. It is very easy to get lost in one character!

mALX - Thank you. It will be a different format for some of the other characters, but I do prefer this format for allowing more detailed recollection. When I come to write Martinus' memoirs, I will naturally not be able to use so much detail or do a daily journal.

Grits - Thanks for your observations! The act of keeping a tally of septims is a reli of my own university days (not all that long ago, incidentally!). I'm sure we've all been there. Thankfully, relief is on the way!

SubRosa - You know, Jeanne is the only in-game example of a mage whose spells actually fail. Makes me feel a bit sorry for her with all those mages in Bruma picking on her.

Now, we join Gwen as she arrives in the Imperial City, and finds the fat deposit from her parents, which she then proceeds to spend at breakneck speed!

First Seed 15, 3E430

8 P.M.

I have arrived in the Imperial City! Truly, it is as beautiful as I have heard. White Gold Tower is visible for miles around. The rest of the city is a bustling metropolis, and many fine houses abound, particularly in the Talos Plaza and Temple Districts.

First Seed 16, 3E430

Today, I spent money as though possessed. I admit, I did not feel particularly good about it, but it was necessary.

Immediately upon arriving in the city, I asked for directions to the Office of Imperial Commerce to collect my deposit. 1,000 gold septims. It came with the following note:

Dear Gwen,

Spend it wisely.

Your loving parents,

Caliphar and Arwen

My first purchase was some clothes. I bought a long red velvet ballgown for 12 septims from a shop called Divine Elegance. I also bought a new pair of gold trimmed shoes. (I justified them on the principle that a mage needs to dress to impress. The gown in particular is simply smashing!)

Then, I decided I needed a robe for university. After trying all of Rindir’s robes (not to mention his patience) I settled for a plain blue cloth robe. Simple, yet elegant. However, I decided to hold back on paying for instruction in any new spells. Edgar’s Discount Spells just didn’t seem the type of organisation a serious student of the arts magicka would contemplate buying from. I mean, even his sales pitch was artless. “You don’t want the very best”, the silver-haired man haggled, “you want CHEAP. And I got cheap.” (Anyway, I am sure the university’s wizards and master wizards could teach me something far superior.)

Next, I bought some books. I already had the standard text Manual of Spellcraft, plus Galerion the Mystic, with me. I added to this a most interesting book, The Black Arts on Trial, which is written by Arch-Mage Hannibal Traven himself, and which contains an account of disputation in the university on the topic of necromancy, and Mysterious Akavir. I also bought a book containing the Mages’ Guild rules and charter. The proprietor, an immaculately-groomed Redguard, was pleased to see me buy plenty of books. He was, however, somewhat less happy with my manners (I snacked on a sweetroll while browsing the store – a mage needs her energy!), all the while appearing more and more uptight in his stuffy quilted doublet.

After this I sought out a horse. I did not relish the possibility of being ambushed by a highwayman again and having to flee under my own steam, or of trying to fight him off with apple-sized fireballs. So, I purchased a Paint Horse from the Chestnut Handy Stables for a very reasonable 500 gold. I named her Mellt-taran, after my mother’s favourite mare, who passed away when I was 54. For some reason, she seemed very happy that I had bought her, almost as though I was saving her from some terrible fate. Haha, Gwen. Stop being so silly.

And now, I am occupying one of the rooms in the Tiber Septim Hotel. It is a sobering 40 gold per night. At this rate, my stipend will be gone in no time!

Finally Gwen arrives at the IC with some very nice descriptions of the city.

She then reinforces her coin purse for some shopping. Poor thing is shopping with Divine Elegance/Tiber Septim Hotel tastes while on a Edgar's Discount Spells budget!

I can sense Gwen's anxiousness to get to business at the University.

A fun little dig at the infamous and dangerous (to horses) IC stables, as Gwen buys her horse!

I continue to very much enjoy reading Gwen's diary.

Another fun episode as Gwen prepares to start school, by spending her parents money! I see college kids are no different in Tamriel than they are on Earth. Eating the sweetroll in the bookstore was just perfect. I student does need her energy indeed! But I expect that Phintias would have been uptight in any case. He always seems to sneer at my characters.

ROFL !!! She shops like a banshee then worries that the hotel bill will break her, lol.

I don't know why I pictured her being much younger, I felt a shock at reading she was in her 50's !! How did I get the impression she was a young girl? I guess in spite of her 176 years, she still comes across as a girl going off to college.

I too love the reference to the horse's being eaten at the IC stables, ROFL !!

Awesome Write !!

Acadian - The budgeting is immensely hard for our mage, who has always been used to the best! She will have to adapt, as we will see.

SubRosa - Whenever I went into First Edition in-game, I always wondered about Phintias and the way he said 'Good day' in that smug tone of his. Sounds like an arrogant little man. He and Gwen should get along famously!

mALX - Gwen is 87. I figure, given a lifespan of several hundred years for Altmer, this would probably make her a young adult. I certainly try and show glimpses of her immaturity in The Famous Five. But hey, my characters of all ages have their immature sides, as I will show later.

Well, that shopping trip has left Gwen ready and raring to start her studies at the Arcane University. But, there may yet be a twist in the tale! Let's read on to find out why!



First Seed 17, 3E430 – The Tiber Septim Hotel

9 P.M.

A devastating disappointment. I have been barred from entering the Arcane University! As I have discovered, I must first attain ‘recommendations’ from the local guild halls in Cyrodiil, such as the one I visited in Skingrad a few days ago. I am bitterly disappointed. Indeed, I could have saved myself the perilous journey from Anvil (though it proved to be rather profitable!)

The day began pleasantly enough. After spending most of yesterday reading and further exploring the city, I felt ready to commence my study. But it would seem the guild authorities did not agree.

I had been walking along Green Emperor Way and City Isle to the university, enthusiastically looking forward to meeting my fellow mages and wearing my blue scholar’s robe. When I arrived at the great central tower of the university, flanked by great purple flames of magicka, I greeted a security guard, who looked rather like the legionnaire who had assisted me in slaying the foul Khajiit, save that he wore a blue Mage’s Hood, and asked to see Raminus Polus.

“Looking for Raminus, are you? Well, you’ll find him in the Arch-Mage’s lobby, in the central tower. We’re taking in new apprentices and associates at this very moment, so you’ve arrived at an apt time, citizen.”

Thanking him for his help, I entered into the splendid lobby. In front of me stood a magical portal, much like those I was used to seeing commonly in Alinor, but which seemed very rare here in Cyrodiil. Either side of this, on two oaken benches, sat a male Imperial and a Bosmer woman. Asking the Imperial if he was Raminus Polus, he said:

“Indeed I am. And you must be……”

I quickly showed him my letter of acceptance. As he read it, his face broke into a faint smile.

“Ah yes, you are Gwenyan. I’m afraid there’s been some......misunderstanding. You see, we used to accept aspiring mages such as yourself into the university as apprentices, provided they supplied good references and the coin to finance their study, but some recent.......dishonesty has forced us to change this policy. It was one of the first things that our new Arch-Mage, Hannibal Traven did. However, it would seem we haven’t had time to edit all the acceptance letters we send out accordingly. My.....apologies.”

“But, what of my study here? I came here to study the art of Restoration.” I demanded. (We both knew my parents had spent a lot of money to secure my tuition here).

“Ah, do not fear. We have a recommendations process in place. It is simply a way of protecting the University against taking on incompetent apprentices, as has sadly occurred in recent times.” He then muttered under his breath something about a count's son and a ‘total disaster’.

“I am afraid that, as new guild policy, I must regrettably turn you away, for now. I hope we shall meet again in future. In the meantime, I grant you associate membership of the guild. You will be free to stay at any of the guild halls in Cyrodiil and use their resources for yourself with this letter.” He stamped it with a red-ink seal containing the word ‘associate’.

At this point, as you can imagine, I felt quite low. All the risk I had taken to get here seemed to be wasted. And what would I do now? I had two options: fulfil tasks of mundane servitude to guild hall leaders, whom, I believed, would no doubt use me as their errand-girl; or return home in disgrace. I wanted to go home. But what would I do there? My parents would be disappointed in me for having returned home; their money would be wasted; and it would be difficult find a posting in the royal court, as I hoped for, if I backed out now.

As I exited the lobby into the open air, I saw a friendly Bosmer in green brocade, who told me his name was Hagaer. I told him about what had just happened and showed him my letter. He chuckled.

“Ah yes, the ‘we forgot to change the letters’ line. I’ve heard that from many an aspiring student turned away at the Arch-Mage’s lobby. It’s nonsense, of course. That policy’s been in place for over a year. Since Gellius Terentius’s brief debacle as an apprentice here, they seem to want students to jump through more and more hoops just to be here. I’ll bet the first test they wanted you to pass was to see if you could get here safely. Completely unnecessary, if you ask me. It’s not like every rich kid who isn’t quite good enough to make it to Wizard or Master-Wizard or even Journeyman rank is going to go into a skooma-induced hallucination and attack the Mage Scholars for thinking they're minotaurs! Ah well, listen. Don’t give up. I’ve seen many a young mage give up after hearing they have to travel all around Cyrodiil, and it’s a crying waste. This guild needs young talent, if it is to meet the new challenges of the future.”

I must say, this kind man’s words were a salve to my wounds. Looking at my map, the nearest town from here would be Chorrol. I plan to visit it soon for my first recommendation.

At least a hard day is made a lot easier by coming back to the Tiber Septim Hotel. The proprietor, Augusta Calidia, is well-spoken and polite; the dining-room is always well-stocked with food and drink, there is an upstairs study to retreat to for peace, and music plays softly in the downstairs lobby. One can feel at ease there, even if one’s coinpurse bears a burden for it. I have around 650 septims left.

Your reasoning for having Gwen do the circuit of recommendation quests was brilliant, as was your portrayal of Polus !!! (Hilarious vision of the Count's son, lol). Great Chapter !!!

Poor Gwen has to do that silly recommendation process! The nerve of those Imperials! Is it just me, or does it seem hard to believe that any of the people you meet at the Arcane U could have survived traveling from one city to another? Let alone managed to complete the recommendation quests, which usually involve killing things like zombies, rogue mages, and necromancers?

So it was Count Bravil's son who mucked it up for everyone! I was first suspecting the no-good son of the Count of Cheydihnal might have been the one.

go into a skooma-induced hallucination and attack the Mage Scholars for thinking they were minotaurs
I loved this!

I'm so glad you both enjoyed this episode! I think to date it's my favourite, and in particular I like the way it allowed me to show Polus's character (thanks for the compliment on that, mALX). In-game, he seemed to be not only a great mage, but also an accomplished 'politician'. Just look at the quest where you go to Skingrad to 'retrieve a book'! He seems like the sort who would gladly be liberal with the truth if it meant the advancement of the guild's aims. Hey, I bet they're still sending out misleading acceptance letters in the Fourth Era!

SubRosa, I agree, most of the Arcane Univ's inhabitants look like the academic sort rather than the battle-hardened veterans of an MG recommendation quest! (though try standing in front of Gaspard Stegine as he fires off a shock spell - I bet he would handle himself alright against Necromancers!) I square that circle by having the recommendations 'policy' being set a year before Gwen's arrival, thus allowing for the existing Mage Scholars to be the beneficiaries of recommendation.

What a crushing disappointment for Gwen! I'm glad that nice Bosmer cheered her up some. I certainly hope everyone she deals with in Chorrol for her recommendation is pleasant to her.

Oh thank Mara for the Arch Mage's new policy! If it keeps Count Bravil's kid out of the University, I'm for it!

And still counting her septims. It is getting quite fun to watch as she tracks her balance!

You have a wonderful way of displaying Gwen's somewhat privileged background and I find myself liking her - a lot.


Nits:

“But, what of my study here? I came here to study the art of Restoration.” I demanded.
I would recommend a comma instead of a period after Restoration to introduce the speech tag.

I hope we shall meet again in future.
Perhaps you meant 'the future'?

He stamped it with a red-ink seal with the word ‘associate’ contained within it.
You might want to consider a means of avoiding using the word 'with' or variations of it less than three times in such close proximity. Perhaps you might consider something like:
He stamped it with a seal dipped in red ink that bore the word 'associate'.

My parents would be disappointed in me for having returned home; their money would be wasted; and it would be difficult find a posting in the royal court, as I hoped for, if I backed out now.
Semicolons are best used sparingly and to connect two complete sentences that are very closely related. Here you seem to be using them to combat a run-on sentence. Short simple sentences are best.
Perhaps: My parents would be disappointed in me for returning home after wasting their money. If I backed out now, my hope of finding a posting in the royal court would be difficult to fulfill.

It’s not like every rich kid who isn’t quite good enough to make it to Wizard or Master-Wizard or even Journeyman rank is going to go into a skooma-induced hallucination and attack the Mage Scholars for thinking they were minotaurs!
I recommend changing 'were minotaurs' to 'are minotaurs'. That way it is consistent, since every other verb in this piece of dialogue is in the present tense.

Well, we're long overdue for an update, aren't we? Apologies for the delay, which has been due to work.

mALX and SubRosa - thanks again for your comments. I'm glad you enjoyed reading that episode. I look forward to hearing more from you in future!

Acadian - Thanks for your thoughtful critique. I have implemented some of your suggestions. I'm also very happy that you like my portrayal of Gwen as being very much the priviliged rich kid. It is something that I try to convey in my writing. In addition to being prejudiced against many races, cultures and cuisines which do not quite reach the high standards of Altmer society, we shall see that side of her personality in other ways as her story develops.

Well, that was indeed a disappointment for Gwen, wasn't it? Let's hope things turn out better for her in Chorrol. Or, as the case may be, they may have to get worse before they get better.....



First Seed 20, 3E430 – Chorrol, Cyrodiil

12 P.M.

I have just arrived in Chorrol. The journey from the Imperial City was peaceful, thanks to Mellt-taran’s gainly strides, which kept us out of harm’s way. It took us about 3 hours to reach Chorrol. She is now resting in the North Country Stables outside of town. I think I need to take a break now, too. The Oak and Crosier looks like a nice tavern.

2 P.M.

The Oak and Crosier is a fine tavern. It has a wonderfully relaxed atmosphere, yet the quality of its food and drink is exceptional. The proprietress, Talasma, is well-dressed and softly spoken, nothing like the previous Khajiit I have met. I have only met three Khajiit in my entire life; one was a highwayman, one was a street-performer, an acrobat, that I once saw in Alinor whom I suspect was there as novelty value. And the third is Talasma. The other Khajiit I have met have been in books. It is a pleasant surprise to learn that, despite their short lifespan, some Khajiit are capable of dedicating themselves sufficiently to the finer things in life: good speech, good dress, education, good food and wine. Perhaps I may even meet some Khajiit mages here in Cyrodiil? Cyrodiil is the most cosmopolitan province of the Empire, so, if it is to be found, it is surely to be found here.

I cannot go on writing like this. I have a recommendation to obtain!

10 P.M.

I have my first task as an associate of the Mages’ Guild. I am to travel to an old ruin nearby known as Cloud Top, and retrieve a book named ‘Fingers of the Mountain’. It would seem that my fears regarding becoming the Guild’s errand-girl have been realised.

I received this instruction from the head of the guild here, Teekeeus. He is an Argonian; another race I am not acquainted with. I do not know what I think of him. He is involved in a feud with an Altmer who is staying here in Chorrol, named Earana. The two refuse to talk to each other, so I had to enquire on Teekeeus’ behalf to determine what Earana wants.

It seems that Fingers of the Mountain is an important text because, when I related to Teekeeus that Earana seeks the book, his tone became stern and he demanded that I return it to him rather than the silver-haired Altmer. It is hardly as if I would do otherwise. I need Teekeeus’ recommendation, and besides, Earana is rather frightening. Her hair is striking; she is tall even for one of us, and her expression stares daggers at you. She must be a powerful mage, and I have no intention of acquiescing in her request to deliver the book to her.

As I write this, I am staying downstairs in the basement of the Chorrol Mages’ Guild chapter. I must share a decidedly modest bed with a man named Contumelorius Florius, who is a middle-aged Imperial with a taste for appalling puns. Teekeeus explained that “all the other beds in the hall are taken……I can’t give you special treatment, you know, Associate.”

I wonder when the next boat back to Summerset Isle is……

Gwen met her 3rd Khajiit today? And this one could speak and even wear clothing! As always, I love the subtle Altmer conceit that you weave into her writing.

She is playing fetch for Teekeus and he cannot even give her a bed of her own to sleep on? What is this, Skingrad! And with Contemptuous Florius of all people. I hope she stays at the Oak and Crosier instead.

Another delightful day with Gwen! Like SubRosa, I love her observations regarding Khajiit. I almost expected that perhaps she might get on with her sister Altmer (Earana), but I must say that it speaks well of her that she does not.

Her reaction to sharing her bunk was priceless (next boat home?) and left me with a big smile.

SubRosa - Haha, yes, this Khajiit could speak and dress! We know this of course, but to Gwen I imagine the shock of the experiece almost knocked her off her (very high) horse! (And no, I'm not talking about Mellt-taran!)

Acadian - I think Earana is pretty scary to people of all races. Our mage is no different, in spite of her prejudices! It is true that at the moment she finds sharing a bed intolerable, but she will have to grow to get used to much worse in time. However, for at least a few months, the culture shock of not being in Alinor with a silver spoon in her mouth will come through strongly in her journals.

Well, not such an auspicious start to Gwen's recommendation-hunting. Fingers crossed it improves for her (but I wouldn't hold my breath!)



First Seed 21, 3E430 – Cloud Top, The Colovian Highlands

6 P.M.

So, this is the reality of guild life. This trip has been thoroughly unpleasant, and I am far from being home and dry (in so far as the Chorrol Mages’ Guild is home) yet. I have the book, but the pains I have endured to get it have been almost intolerable.

The weather has been the first problem. When I set out from Chorrol this morning with my robe, bag, some bread and cheese, a flask of wine, and a silver dagger I borrowed from the guild hall for protection, the sun was shining and all the signs were that it would stay that way. However, at about 1 P.M., it began to rain heavily and has been raining since. My hair is utterly drenched, and I am only able to write this entry coherently thanks to the shelter provided by the folds of my robe, which has absorbed the rainwater very nicely. It is almost as good as Robért’s specially modified robe; not only that, it keeps me warm in the wind and rain. Without it, I dread to think how I would have coped with the weather today.

My second problem has been trying to find Cloud Top. I had been so intimidated by Earana yesterday that I did not think to ask Teekeeus for directions. This morning he was gone, apparently on some alchemical research trip to the Imperial City. None of the guards, guildsmates or townspeople knew where Cloud Top was, either. So the result has been that I have spent hours trying to find the ruin. Eventually, after much wandering, I found a path leading up into the mountains, and followed it here.

The unpleasantness does not end there. When I arrived here at Cloud Top about an hour ago, I began to search for the book. A rat suddenly ambushed me and bit my leg, before I could kick out at it and throw a small enough (but still, to a rat, deadly) fireball. It was easy enough to heal the damage to the leg with a Restore Health spell, ensuring that damage to the skin was fully repaired, but the area around the bite wound is still a bit sore. That is one thing about typical Restore Health spells – they do not always totally heal the wound. In accordance with standard healing practice in Alinor and elsewhere, a wound is only totally healed if the level of pain is considered sufficiently harmful to the individual as to be a threat to their life in itself.

Some pain is so great that the affected person cannot move normally because of it, for example, such is the psychological effect of the pain. If a restoration spell targets a wound of that magnitude, it must not only restore function to the affected area, but heal it fully to relieve pain too, because the pain in itself can inhibit movements which could be essential for battle survival. On the other hand, there are sound medical reasons why these spells do not completely restore affected areas in minor to moderate wounds. If the pain is immediately and totally removed in these injuries, an individual does not build up their psychological wariness to avoid pain – they do not fear pain and, consequently, do not fear injury. This can be a serious security risk to the individual.

Even knowing this, I resent the fact that I am unable to cast a spell to remove the pain of the bite – it will go away naturally over time. Silently, I am also dreading the possibility of the wound becoming infected, even in the short period of time between my leg being bitten and my healing spell. Altmer have great resistance to disease, compared to humans, but we can still be forced to take to bed for a short while or resort to expensive potions to recover should we be struck by malady. Advanced healers can cure most disease with a spell of white magic. This ability eludes me at present, although in theory I understand the principles of healing diseases. A curse on you, Raminus! I should be studying this at the Arcane University now, not lamenting the consequences of my lack of practical knowledge in the field!

Worst of all, when I finally found the book, it was on the remains of a person who appeared to have been frazzled by a strong blast of shock magic. At first, I was wary to touch it due to this; however, it seems it is not dangerous.

It is time to try to return to Chorrol, as soon as I have eaten. The weather has eased off a bit now.
Midnight.

I am lodged in the Oak and Crosier tonight. I can’t abide any more of Contumelorius’ dreadful jokes, especially after a day like today.

I have 613 septims left.

Ahah! We know exactly how she is progressing in the quest without her overloading us. Nicely done and very appropriate for her to focus on things of immediate concern, like healing a pesky rat bite.

Interesting thoughts Gwen shared on healing and some of its limitations.

And moving to the inn for the night was a very understandable choice!

I'm guessing she is going to drop that book with Teekeus, get her recommendation and be gone from Chorrol. I hope she doesn't get waylaid by Earana.

Poor Gwen, she is indeed getting a taste of what life is like in the Mages Guild. Fetch this! Carry that! Mind the rats! She is lucky the latter was the worst of her problems, and she was not attacked by a wolf or imp. I am sure she will be in time though!

Like Acadian, I enjoyed reading Gwen's musings about Restoration spells that do and do not relieve pain as well as heal. One observation though, if the wound itself is healed, why would there be lingering pain afterward, as there is nothing left to cause it anymore?

I also like how she is counting her septims. That is a nice touch of reality.

A fair observation. I suppose that I was trying to imagine how instantaneous healing spells like in Oblivion might effect the psychology of men and mer. In real life, of course, you don't get insta-heals. It seems to me that if you could totally wave away pain in the blink of an eye, attitudes towards getting hurt would probably be different and people would probably be more reckless.

An alternative way of putting it would be that the wound itself is not totally healed, but that any damage which might inhibit movement, or allow a wound to become infected, or otherwise be life-threatening, is healed, but the wound is still not totally healed and remains painful. I have changed that section a bit.

I agree. If a person could instantly heal themselves, they probably would be much less worried about harming themselves. Although I am sure no one would look forward to being in pain. It is still not fun for one second or days. Lady Syl really highlighted this in her story, at one point in which her protagonist was cutting herself, then healing the wound, cutting again, etc...

I suppose the real question is whether that attitude is a problem? (not Syl's compulsive cutting, that is a problem!) If people are more willing to take risks because they know they can cure their wounds, does that negatively impact your story? If not, there is no point in changing the mechanics. If so, then I can see good reason for trying to limit the effectiveness of healing spells.

On the positive side, I think instant healing makes a good case for people being willing to be adventurers, Gwen especially. If they think they can cure themselves of wounds incurred in the process, there is much less to be afraid of. At least until they are actually doing it and stare a skeleton in its empty eye sockets for the first time. Then they realize that they cannot cure death. Of course by then it is too late.

You should also keep in mind that just because the player character starts the game with a healing spell and a flare spell, that does not mean everyone else in the world does. The ability to use magic of any sort is as limited as you want it to be. Likewise, the price of healing potions or scrolls. If the latter are prohibitively expensive for the common people, and magic only the realm of the gifted, then it will have no effect on society as a whole. Only certain gifted or wealthy individuals.

SubRosa - A thoughtful response! Thanks for sharing. It is in some ways a conscious thing to change the dynamics of the storytelling, because I always roleplayed Gwen as a bit of a wary soul, and so I write her that way. In addition to that, though, it was just 'philosophical' speculation on how magic and the like might weave together with the nonetheless very fragile, human people we see in Oblivion. After all, Martin is actually insanely powerful in-game, and has tons of greater powers, healing spells and such, yet as a personality he is certainly not one to dive into combat head first. Another difficult thing is the healing powers of, for instance, altars in chapels, when you have beggars suffering from diseases on the streets. I get around this problem by assuming that they only work for characters of immense personal faith and a certain physical constitution. It's the same with magic.

Acadian - That's the plan! Hopefully she manages to steer clear of that odious woman....

First Seed 22, 3E430 – Chorrol Mages’ Guild

11 A.M.

Teekeeus has received Fingers of the Mountain. He seemed satisfied with my work and promised to write a recommendation for me. That is the least I deserve after that journey. My work in Chorrol appears to be done. I have spent the morning talking to the guild members, asking them what they went through in order to obtain recommendations. An Altmer gentleman named Angalmo confided in me that his process had involved collecting alchemy supplies for guild halls, which tend to run low after a few weeks of mixing and selling potions.

Normally, he explained, the Guild buys from vendors, but if they can get a willing associate to do the legwork, they will. Indeed, he said, ‘I myself have sent associates on the same hunts I went. Not always totally safe, either, especially if you get sent up north to Bruma with the ice and wolves and lack of legion patrols. But that’s the guild for you. Bruma’s the only place to get wormwood, and there’s a hierarchy and associates do the dirty work. But it gets better, trust me.’

Editor’s note: Speaking as a native of Bruma, this comment is, unfortunately, entirely accurate. Legion patrols were seldom spotted in this part of the province at that time, as official statistics testify to. One reason commonly cited by the Legion for this was that in the fierce Nordic cold, the legionary’s plate armour was liable to freeze in place if left in one position for too long. In this editor’s opinion, the Legion should have done what the Bruma Guard did, and use chainmail armour, less prone to freezing, or even plate re-inforced with fur in places to preserve some heat.

I think I will eat lunch now, then take a walk around the town. Chorrol is quite pretty on a good day.

8 P.M.

Oh, merciful Azura! I have been threatened by Earana. When I left the guild hall after lunch, she was standing outside. Of course she wanted the book. When I told her I gave it to Teekeeus, she became furious and demanded I steal the book back from the guild. Her left eye kept twitching in some psychotic manner, and her face was blazing like a lamp. Her voice was hard and bitter, seething with hatred.

I fear for what she may do to me, should I not comply with her demand this time. The other guild mages have warned me about her, also. A Breton, Alberic Little, cautioned me: “She’s nothing but trouble. She went to the University long ago, but was expelled by the guild. Caused all kinds of trouble while she was there.”

Clearly, Earana is not to be trifled with. Whatever shall I do?

First Seed 23, 3E430 – Wawnet Inn

12 P.M.

I have had quite the last few days. My journey in Cyrodiil becomes more and more bizarre with each passing day, so much so that I have given up trying to predict or plan anything. At least on this occasion, Azura be thanked, I wasn’t threatened, or wounded by a rat, or attacked by a highwayman.

I left Chorrol at 3 A.M. this morning, assuming everyone would be asleep, and moving under cover of darkness to avoid being sighted by Earana. Fortunately, that old hag was sleeping in the Grey Mare tavern, where I could see all the lights had been put out. However, several characters were up and about, undeterred by the late hour, and moving to the glow of the street lamps. I spotted a young female Dunmer near the fountain, talking to a guard, who was obviously enjoying the company during his long night shift.

Frankly, she had his attention to such an extent that she could probably have stolen his key to the barracks from under his nose. (The guards in Chorrol, as everywhere, it seems, have a weakness for the ladies. I don’t blame them. It must be hard living your whole life in a barracks, surrounded by members of the same sex, living to a routine, with no chance to ever have any fun. That Dunmer will probably be the only woman that guard sees during his day-to-day life. And if the captain catches him, then may Azura have mercy on him!)

As they were exchanging banter, I overheard the guard say “Reynald Jemane has a terrible memory. We’ve met many times, but when I saw him in Cheydinhal the other day, he walked right past me like we were strangers!” The guard, totally oblivious to my presence on account of his absorption in the attractive Dunmer, then tried to impress her by showing her the pommel and blade of his standard-issue longsword. Ironically, I was just about to meet this Jemane fellow.

As I exited Chorrol and clambered onto the back of Mellt-taran, I managed to gallop about twenty paces, in the direction of a small priory to the Nine Divines, when Mellt-taran whinnied and came to stop. A Breton, holding a bottle of ale in his left hand, and a shortsword in the scabbard on his left hip, was singing ‘Sweet Lady of Wayrest’, loudly, in the direction of the priory. All the while, he staggered around ungainly, much to the unsettlement of my mount.

After a short while, a young Imperial monk with a dark-brown tonsure came running out of the priory house’s doors, shouting at him to “shut up, for Talos’ sake”, while gesticulating with his own sword, which I noticed as one of fine Akaviri design. I thought the two were going to come to blows, but fortunately another monk came out, this one apparently Breton with a golden tonsure, and brokered a peace settlement: the drunkard would agree to stand off and pipe down, in exchange for a bottle of ‘Weynon ale’.

All parties apparently happy with this arrangement, the monks went inside and the drunkard approached me. Reeking of ale, with stained clothes to match, he introduced himself as Reynald Jemane, then sputtered out something about going to Cheydinhal and finding a fellow who looks like him, and pressed a pouch containing 50 septims into my hands. I don’t know quite how, but it seems I have agreed to look for his impostor. No harm; I shall be going to Cheydinhal for my recommendation anyhow.

Mellt-taran and I arrived here at Wawnet at 10 A.M. She is tied to a tree outside; she will not go back to the Chestnut Handy Stables. I am exhausted. Time to sleep now…..

So Gwen turned the book over to Teekeus (which of course you have to eventually do if you want to join the guild). But should she really be surprised that Earana is furious at her? Gwen did betray her after all. I loved how she sneaked out of the city in the middle of the night to avoid Earana's notice.

An amusing encounter with everyone's favorite drunken Breton. Having the monks arguing with him to shut up was just priceless. Now I see how he gets his booze!


nits:
I saw something which is not technically an error as it is how you see it in the game. Consider this some purely flavor-based advice, and feel free to ignore.

Legionnaire is a French word, and refers to members of the French Foreign Legion. Why Bethesda decided to use it when they otherwise went out of their way to use the Roman Legions as their template for the Imperial Legion (and Latinized names in general for Imperials) is beyond me. OTOH, Legionary is the Latin word, which the Romans used for members of their legions. Use whichever one you feel is appropriate.

'He seemed satisfied with my work and promised to write a recommendation for me. That is the least I deserve after that journey. '
This is so magnificently Gwen!

I'm so glad to see the way she handled Earana. After all, Gwen has what she came for and does not necessarily expect to return to Chorrol, so simply slipping out of town was the perfect choice for her.

A good introduction of the Jemane quest via the flirting guard. Then a simply brilliant segue into 'assigning' the quest to Gwen at Weynon Priory. As she rightfully points out, it is no golden skin off her nose as she is headed to Cheydinhal anyway.

Another irregular update. 'Harald Steel-Quill' has been idle lately.

SubRosa - Acknowleged on the 'legionnaire/legionary' thing. I agree with your point of view and have changed it. One imagines that Reynald has gained quite a few flasks of ale from charitable Chapel types over the years; Piner, however, is maybe not so charitable. Good for Reynald that Maborel was there to sort the quarrel out!

Acadian - Indeed, very sneaky from Gwen, though the tides of fate may bring her back to Chorrol rather sooner than she would like. Let's hope it doesn't end badly!

Next up: Gwen prepares for her next recommendation in Cheydinhal, and meets an old acquaintance and a new one.

First Seed 25, 3E430 – Wawnet Inn

12 P.M.

It has been nice to have a couple of days to recuperate here at the Wawnet Inn. This has been the first time in a while I have not been worried about my health in some way. Nerussa, the publican, is around my age. Her family is also from Alinor originally, but moved here to Cyrodiil around the time of her birth. Now she runs this homely inn. We exchanged opinions on wine, politics and history yesterday, whilst the legionnaries who normally frequent the tavern were out on patrol and the inn was mercifully peaceful. Her family is not particularly wealthy, but all Altmer learn about Tamrielic history and politics from a young age, even the humblest peasants in Alinor.

It seems she is a fan of Barenziah, and enjoys reading about Ayleid history when she can. However, as she told me, “by the end of the month…..it’s usually a struggle to get enough food for myself and our patrons, and keep our beds clean. I wish I had enough gold to buy the latest books, but I don’t. I have to make do with borrowing from scholars in the City when I can.” I think I will leave a tip here for her. I counted my septims this morning. Including the 50 that Reynald gave me to fulfil our little ‘agreement’, I have 623 remaining. I imagine I can spare 10 or so.

In some 20 days, I will get the next instalment of 1,000 septims from mother and father. They would be appalled if they knew that, at present, I am not studying the art of Restoration with the brightest minds in Cyrodiil, but am instead running errands for beastfolk, albeit enlightened ones. I have drafted a letter to my parents; full of lies, of course. I couldn’t possibly tell them the truth.

Editor’s note: this letter, despite the full co-operation of the author’s family, could not be tracked down. However, we can guess at the sentiments expressed in it: it is likely that its author wrote enthusiastically about Cyrodiil and invented some tales about university life based on what she already knew about it from various sources. Her frank honesty in her journals is one of their great strengths as a historical resource: one can always be sure that what she writes is exactly how she felt. It is rather naïve, in all honesty. Very few are the leaders who allow their flaws to be seen in this way; indeed, initially the present-day Mages’ Guild hierarchy was reluctant to allow an unedited version of her journals to be published, although the author signalled her willingness to proceed.

8 P.M.

I have just returned from the Imperial City, where I gave my letter to the captain of a reputable vessel, and shopped for provisions. Whilst in the Market District, I visited Rindir’s Staffs again. I regret that I have never owned a staff before; I recall that my parents would not allow me to use theirs until I reached the age of 50 when, according to tradition, Altmer become adults. Even then, I was not allowed to use one in earnest; my parents trained me in their use with a staff enchanted with Charm magic. This was, in fact, weaker than charm spells I could cast.

I look forward to the day when I will have a powerful, real, staff, like the one my father wields at the court of Alinor. Alas, that day will not be today. Rindir sells staves starting at 850 septims, and these are themselves rather weak Telekinesis staves. Rindir was kind enough to show me his most powerful staff; a beauty named Apotheosis. It is on sale for 5,500 septims; Rindir claims it is a snip at that price.
Truly, it would be a great aid. The only weapon I possess at this moment is the silver dagger I took from the guild hall in Chorrol, and it is little more than symbolic in its protection. Yet, staff or no staff, I am leaving for Cheydinhal tomorrow. I will rely on Mellt-taran’s gainly gallop to keep me from harm.

First Seed 26, 3E430 – Roxey Inn, north of Imperial City

3 P.M.

I am writing this in the upstairs room of the Roxey Inn. The journey has been uneventful, but it rained for much of the morning and early afternoon, and has started again now. My robe is presently warming by the fire, and I have managed to get a decent meal (by Cyrodilic standards, at any rate) of leek, potato, cheese and wine, from the Surilie vineyards in Skingrad. The roads here near the Imperial City are well-patrolled by Legion soldiers – I have encountered several on my journey today. Security, at least in this part of the province, rivals that in Alinor, even if the food, wine, and general level of civilisation lag behind.

The proprietor here is a Nord. She was clearly not blessed much by the gods with beauty nor intelligence. She is, however, friendly and polite.

Cheydinhal awaits, either tonight or tomorrow, depending on when the rain ceases. Meantime, I have re-read the book The Black Arts on Trial. One cannot read that book without having great respect for the wisdom of Arch-Mage Traven and the rigour of Magister Karlyss, and trepidation at the cunning and sly ways of the Necromancer, Magister gra-Kogg. It is clear that Necromancy is a great danger. In Summurset Isle, it is widely hated but not officially banned unlike in Morrowind, and my parents would often tell me of dark rituals reputedly carried out in the laboratories of several eminent mages, often including those held in good standing by the royal court. It is a shadowy art in more than one sense.

A delightful continuation of Gwen's journey as she meets new people! I love the vestiges of her Altmer snobbery that now seem to be easing somewhat in temper and tolerance for what seems to be her new homeland and its variety of folk. I see that in these wonderful snips:
'am instead running errands for beastfolk, albeit enlightened ones.'
'and I have managed to get a decent meal (by Cyrodilic standards, at any rate)'

And here we see that Gwen, after some reading has declared herself:
'It is clear that Necromancy is a great danger.'

Very enjoyable!


Nit: 'I wish <I> had enough gold to buy the latest books, but I don’t.'
I think you want an 'I' where have inserted one.

The proprietor here is a Nord. She was clearly not blessed much by the gods with beauty nor intelligence. She is, however, friendly and polite.

I do enjoy Gwen’s take on things. Here she states a truth as she sees it without any meanness, then looks on the bright side. I am enjoying her journey.

Acadian - Indeed, this tour of Cyrodiil is becoming a real eye-opener for affluent, well-spoken Gwen. You are also right to observe that her tolerance for her new surroundings has appeared to be growing, with some grudging acceptance of her plight. However, what she will witness in Cheydinhal will set that tolerance back some way!

Grits - Thanks for commenting. I do aim to write her as not being a bad person, just incredibly cloistered in her upbringing. You are correct to say that she does not mean ill by her comments about Malene.

Next: Confusion in Cheydinhal, as the reccomendation proves somewhat difficult to pin down. Let's find out why!

First Seed 27, 3E430 – Cheydinhal Bridge Inn

10 P.M.

The rain eventually stopped at about midday today. The journey from Roxey Inn was uneventful. Two Legion soldiers greeted me along the road, one of whom had just finished putting down an imp – a common sight on these roads. As we exchanged greetings, I noticed his eyebrows were somewhat frazzled, and his limbs moved even more stiffly than one would normally expect from a man forced into such an unwieldy suit of armour. No doubt this was a result of the shock magic that imps wield. Mercifully, they do so without any great power in the majority of cases. Indeed, despite my own deficiencies in the art of destruction, I am fairly certain even I would outmatch the winged beasts!

Cheydinhal is a quaint city. The architecture is quite different to the Colovian cities of Skingrad and Chorrol, and there are many Dunmer here. It is similar to things I heard of cities in the province of Morrowind, except that the Nine Divines are solidly entrenched here. The local chapel is dedicated to Arkay, and is very similar to the one in Skingrad.

The inn I am staying at tonight is obscenely overpriced – 40 septims for a rather modest little room, of which the publican frankly thinks too much. She is, as I found out from my brief conversation with her, an admirer of a writer named Alessia Ottus, and invited me to read her guide to the city. I have just looked at it. It is small wonder that the publican recommended it, since the book heaps praise on her establishment. There is nothing special about the inn. Compared to the Tiber Septim Hotel, which offers similar rates, it is like the subterranean caves goblins must abide with.

It can only be said that it is better than the other inn in Cheydinhal. By Azura, in all my years on Nirn I have never seen such an uncouth place. Even the Fo’c’s’le in Anvil has the appearance of being slightly more hospitable. As soon as I opened the door, my senses met with an array of offensive sights, sounds, and smells, amongst the worst of which was an Orsimer who belched in my face. Immediately, I left the place, which is called the Newlands Lodge.

I am forced to take these steps because the Mages Guild hall was locked when I arrived at around 8 P.M., hoping to meet the local guildmates and learn more about my recommendation task. I was unable to open it with the key I had been provided by Raminus Polus which unlocks all doors to guild halls in Cyrodiil. I can only assume that it had been magically locked. Hopefully, I will find out more about what happened tomorrow, assuming the hall is re-opened.

Meanwhile, I am looking out of my second-floor window at the night sky in Cheydinhal. It is a clear night, and the streets are filled with people loitering around, talking, and in the case of several Orsimer that I have seen, staggering out of the Newlands Lodge drunkenly. Speaking of drunks, that reminds me of the promise I made to Reynald. I have not seen anyone who matches his appearance thus far, but I will ask the guild mages tomorrow. If I can, that is.

First Seed 28, 3E430 – Cheydinhal Mages Guild

1 P.M.

I still do not have a recommendation assignment. The leader of the Cheydinhal chapter is absent, as I have discovered. Some light has however been shed on the events of last night.

When I arrived at the guild hall, I was greeted by a tall Redguard with an unruly mop of hair, who introduced himself as “Trayvond”. He invited me into the dining room of the hall and asked who I was, all the while thoughtfully stroking his smooth-skinned chin with his right fingers, and adjusting the collar of his guild-issue blue robe. I explained that I was an associate – no, not truly an associate, but one who had been forced to walk the associate’s path. I asked what had happened the previous evening and why I had been unable to unlock the door.

He poured some wine into a ceramic goblet for each of us, and said that the leader of the chapter, an Altmer called Falcar, was prone to spectacular bursts of verbal violence, and that last night was one such circumstance.

“He hates to be disturbed at any time, but particularly so when he’s giving us a tongue-lashing. Last night, he was lecturing all of us because someone broke an alembic. Of course, no-one would own up to it, so we all faced the wrath of that man. He’s never been physically or magickally abusive – at least not yet – but I would caution you to watch yourself around him, my friend. Most of the time, he’s no harm, but that’s because he hardly ever looks up from his desk in the basement. Arkay help you if you catch him in a bad mood, though.” Trayvond told me that Falcar left the guild hall this morning on a visit to the Imperial City to discuss guild matters with the Arch-Mage, Hannibal Traven, and should return this evening.

I sincerely hope that Trayvond is right about Falcar never becoming physically violent. I managed to flee Earana’s wrath, but what if Falcar turns hostile? I can hardly run away again. I must get these recommendations, no matter how trying and unjust they may be. Otherwise, what is there for me in Alinor? My only path is that of the Arcane University; it is the only route to the royal court back home. I will return to the guild hall later this evening.

Meantime, there are no leads in finding Reynald’s double. None of the guild mages present knew. Trayvond said that he would like to help, but as he rarely stepped outside the guild hall, he knew very few people in town. The other mages here include two of my fellow Altmer, a sister and a brother, who are a married couple.* They both responded to my question politely, but explained that they only socialized with others once a week, at some party held in a place called Riverview.

*Editor’s Note: The wording of this passage has, rather humorously, been taken to imply incest by at least one confused writer. An undistinguished Imperial historian, Roderis Aurelius, has commented that ‘this kind of behaviour among her kind is exactly why we should not trust the words of an elf.’ (see Aurelius, Cyrodiil and the Empire, chapter 23) It goes without saying that Aurelius is sympathetic to many of the ideas of Martinus, and thus mortally opposed to the views of our elven mage. However, his personal attack on the Arch-Mage is not only a poor argument, it is also incorrect. What the writer meant, of course, was not that the married Altmer mages were related, but that she was referring to them as a fraternal brother and sister of hers. This kind of mentality is very strong among all elves, and it is common for them to use familial terms to refer to each other.

Editor's Note: ROFL !!! I remember Foxy and I went for at least 15 chapters thinking one writer (who shall go unnamed lest her Rumple tease ye) - had inferred incest between Morgiah and Helseth. Somehow she missed our less than obscure references to that belief - till we blatently mentioned something about it - where she promptly disabused our warped minds, ROFL !!!! Poor Rumple, she was writing a clean history, and we were reading a hot novel into it, ROFL !!!

I finally got some free time to read, sorry it took so long !! Great Write !!!