First of all:
MAXICAL IS BACK!! 
Congratulations mALX!
Secondly:
From the Quill of Sir Rugrat gro-Shurgak, son of Lord Rugdumph, Arena Grand Champion, and Knight of the White Stallion: Salivations to you all! When last we converged I appraised you of the fact that I had extenuated an invocation to the fair Mazoga to accomplish me on a journal of adventure. I can now tell you that she respirated positively and that our adventure has now commensurated!
We gathered a pair of mounds and deported White Stallion Lodge early last Morndas and ventricled north along the Green Road. We watched Magnus make its assent into a clear blue sky, and commuted with the creatures for whom morning provokes indigence. With bird-song in our ears and glad tidings in our hearts we passed through Water’s Edge. At Rockmilk Cave I sublimated that we should commend the ‘adventure’ part of our excretion and have a look inside but, alas, Mazoga was too investitured in the sunlight to waist the afternoon ‘holed up in a cave.’
We continenced our way further north. And I, once again, pointed out the positatives of explicating Fort Redman across the Lower Niben. Before Mazoga could repose we were besotted by a pair of brigantines guarding the ferry near the water. They’re arrival was extremely suspicious, for I was beginning to lose patients with Mazoga’s lack of respite for the spirit of our ventricle. Bringing Volendrung to bare against one of them served proximate for the frustration I was feeling toward my beautiful wife. When I looked over I could see that she was just as perspicated with me, given the beating she was handing out. I do not mind telling you that I was glad for the insurrection of the brigantines, lest that be my head being sequestered from my body!
Having seen the extant of her anger, I suspected that our best curse of action would be to ventricle to the Shrine of Stendarr a short distance away to retrieve a blessing. Mercy is always a good thing to have. Mazoga was amelorated to the idea, thankfully, so we rode forth. Unfortunately Mazoga forgot to tie off her horse when she dismembered it, and the blasted animal disbursed into the forest to the west. Mazoga gave chase, yelling something about ‘losing her lunch.’
I followed, and it wasn’t long before we happenstanced upon several starving people convoluting a shrine to a bearded human. There was a Breton ravening about bugs, a nord ravening about children, an altmer ravening about light, and an argonian who used to be a dog. All pointed us toward a dunmer in white robes and a fur helmet. Ferul Ravel was the name he tended and, after telling me how he killed and ate a bosmer (which, being Arena Champion, i didn’t mind as much as you may think), he deformed me that I was standing at the Shrine to Sheogorath... and for the expenditure of a lesser soul gem, a head of lettuce, and some yarn I could convocate with the lord of madness.
Needless to say I didn’t have such maternals on my personage, so I deformed Ravel that I would return once I had procreated them. I found myself noxious to placate these items because I’ve never convocated with a statue before. Once I helped Mazoga round up her horse I perspicated her to accomplish me back to Water’s Edge to begin our search.
I refrain,
- R
Water’s Edge, 2 First Seed, 4E 0