"The Fate of Dear Jakob"
Part 1 of blahdiblah
My name is Jasper Glove, and I made love to an orc and lived.
"Please excuse the lack of formalities, my love, but the information I have is urgent. It will be a mere matter of weeks before it becomes public. You should read every word and praise me for it, as this concerns you.
Quite a number of years ago, a ship sank a few miles off the Cespar Coast. At first I hoped it to be something romantic, along the lines of a pirate vessel that was long ago defeated by someone’s royal navy. Further analysis proved that it was damaged not from an egregious amount of battle wounds, but scuttled due to flagrant disrepair, although “misrepair” would be a more appropriate term. This ship was only found and salvaged recently, but the amount of marine life (barnacles, coral, etc.) cohabitating with the wreck suggests that it certainly was lingering on the bottom of the sea for quite some time. Most artifacts on board were either destroyed by the decay of time and rust, lost in the strong western current, or stuffed into the pockets of the salvage crew to be sold for ludicrous amounts at a local black market. A single ornate chest, far too large and heavy to smuggle into a port unnoticed, was donated to our fair museum for quite a substantial sum - after the authenticity of the ship was confirmed by our head curator, of course. By fortune, the chest somehow seemed to completely escape decay on the inside, and so its contents escaped the trials of time.
It did not preserve significant artifacts which would be of any value to most collectors of rare antiquities, but the historical significance of this find can hardly be measured. It contained the logs of the ship’s officers during quite an eventful year, including evidence that an obscure pirate legend was indeed quite true... Well, partly. Local legend tells of a mercantile vessel whose crew went insane every night of a new moon for an entire year. Twenty-nine days of the month, they would travel from port to port, trading in spices, transporting treasure and arms, as well as perform other tasks that were commonly attributed to a civilian ship. On the night of the new moon, however, whatever port the ship landed in last would come to ruins. The exaggerated version of the tale says that every crime that possibly could be committed by a gang of experienced pirate thugs was, indeed, committed. Murder, theft, kidnaping, and rioting, to name the most popular. For example, from my memory, the ship’s Captain was a psychopath who escaped a noose by gnawing through solid rope, the ship’s surgeon was a deranged temptress who delighted in the torture of her patients’ genitalia, and the navigator was a terrible specter who had been murdered by a jealous lover and cursed to stay in the crow’s nest for eternity.
The truth of the matter, actually, is far more comical than mysterious. But profitable for a handsome and cunning imperial like yourself.
Legally, the writs of execution mentioned in these letters are still valid, and you and your crew will receive your share of the bounty just as soon as I receive mine. I’m expecting my fifteen percent for this, plus your entire share of forty percent, and that is not negotiable. Your associates may have the remainder to divide as you see fit. Considering the debt you owe my body, I would consider this fair enough to make us even enough to cancel our betrothal. Yes, be relieved, I would love seven hundred thousand septims quite a bit more than I would love being married to you. But fail me, and I promise that you will regret it for the rest of your life, as you spend it as my husband.
For your benefit, I have spent my past few days desperately transcribing the crews’ logs, reports, letters to loved ones and personal memos. Clues to trace the bloodlines that are to be severed can be found in these texts. Being exposed to fresh air for the first time in centuries has caused the papers to become extremely fragile, and so I dare not send them to you by parcel. These copies will have to do, my first love.
- Yokam the Orc Faced, Curator’s Assistant, Museum of Bretony
P.S. - If you destroy a single word on these papers, I will find you and make you pay. This was a lot of work, and the head curator will want to read the transcripts when he gets back from Mournhold."
"Captain’s Log:
My patron’s sloop, the Dear Jakob, has completed construction and is ready to be tested on the high seas. I was most humbled by Doctor Areliano’s faith in me, and I am honored to have been selected as the ship’s first captain, especially considering the fates of my previous commissions. However, I am most unsure of the assembled crew. I was not present during their selection, and my first mate’s judge of character has been consistently bad. Perhaps I am too harsh, and this time, things will be different.
I’ve decided to inspect the boys as soon as I am able to untie my hands from my desk. I was recently betrayed by a local bar maiden who stole my lucky ring and my personal store of gold some time during a series of feigned, drunken romantic advances. I am faking illness for whomever knocks on my door and am sending them away to spare my pride, and am writing this log in the hopes that it will help guide my mind away from this crushing hangover so that I may concentrate fully on freeing myself from my... “bonds.” I should note to myself that my “bonds” smell rather foul. There should be a law that Nordic Ale should only be consumed by Nords.
I have gotten my hands free enough to scribble this note and progress is being made with every stroke of my quill, and damn it all someone is coming in... must somehow get pants... oh stendarr, god of mercy, do not let it be a woman"
"Alba,
I haff to right to you evry day, says mom. So I do not furget how to right, says mom. Plees gift her a kiss for me, k? I be furly warried hair. I thinks this ships ugly in day time, and its just scaredy looking at nite. Youse shud do well to stair cleer of ports we land in, cuz Busty says we is cussed. She is nice to me, and she is pretty. DO NOT TUCH MY STUFF WILE I AM GON! An if you do, do not tell mom wut you fownd, k? I loves her.
- Two Tales Two Tails"
"Medical Officer’s Log:
Well, today started with a bang. Two Tales woke me up and told me that the Captain wasn’t feeling well. I saw him leave the tavern last night with a very lewd young woman, and I was certain that he’d fallen prey to one of the thousands of local variations of venereal diseases that are offered in this area. I picked the lock to his quarters, knowing full well that such diseases needed to be treated quickly, no matter how much embarrassment he’d suffer. Expecting to find a sick, sweating man panicking in his bed, I instead found a totally nude pervert, tied to his own desk with his own thoroughly soiled pants.
It serves him right, I say. Imagine, gallivanting off with some hussy when he has my father’s ship to captain on its maiden voyage the next morning. The audacity of that man can only be matched by his visible shame when I found him. Still, I suppose he isn’t completely to blame. He does have a rather rugged look about him, and male human virility is legendary... It was the first time I had seen a Breton in the nude, outside of a textbook, and I must say that there are certain inaccuracies in the official anatomy scrolls... Unless Captain Clove is part Nord or Redguard, that is. Impossible to say, humans have hardly any shame when it comes to cross-race breeding, unlike we Altmer. I especially take pride in the purity of my race when I come into contact with other species who demonstrate their obvious failings and painful short comings, most of which are born from their disgusting and distasteful lineage.
To make a summary of my first meeting with the Captain, I believe he is a stumbling imbecile with poor judgement skills and a penchant for debauchery and booze. He is also dangerously proud, mischievous, scheming, handsome, muscular, well endowed, forbidden to me, appetizing, sensuous, mysterious, powerful, authoritative and sensitive. I can change him into the perfect, submissive, loving husband, if I’m given time and patience. By the time I am finished with him, he’ll only be distinguishable from an Altmer in physical appearance alone. Mummy will fall in love with him faster than I did, and we’ll have two perfect children together, just to make her jealous, and then we’ll buy an estate in Cyrodil, and I’ll open a private practice in the imperial city, and he’ll spend the day tending the crops and guar while I attend to the health of the finest nobility, and receive invitations to their social events, and... I should stop writing now as I just realized that I’m speaking this letter aloud. I sound quite psychotic, and should make a note to monitor my mental health as our voyage begins and continues.
There are other happenings on the ship, but I just remembered that I forgot to free the Captain from his pants. By his pants, I mean the pants that are tying him to his desk. Not the pants that he’s wearing. Because he’s still nude. I better go to him.
- Bustalius Areliano, ship’s surgeon"