Hello everyone,

this is my first attempt at writing in fan fiction. I've been regularly posting updates on Beth forums but since I recently started a new character, I decided to share his stories here. He's a High Elf and everything else of importance will be revealed through his stories. I'm playing dead-is-dead which means no reloading under any circumstance - if he dies, his adventures are over. English is not my first language, so there will definitely be some grammar mistakes but at least in the first short story most of them are intentional.


On 27th of Last Seed 3€433 an old ship sailed into Anvil docks. A few Redguard sailors had jumped overboard, tied the ship up and began unloading a cargo. The merchant ship was called ‘Child of Ra Gada’ and it belonged to captain Amut (known simply as The Capt’n), sailing between Hammerfell, Summerset Isles and Cyrodiil. But this time it was besides the cargo ‘transpouting’ someone else.


“Nou,” said The Capt’n, a little angry because young High Elf obviously didn’t hear him the first time. “We’re nout transpoutin’ people, ye know, jest cargoo…”

“I’d really like to get to Anvil as soon as possible. I can pay you, of course,” quickly answered young red-haired High Elf. The Capt’n was all ears!

“Paaay me? Hmmmm… lemme fink nou… ther’ might be sam place fer ya, young oun… but it depends – hou mouch are ye willing too paaay?”

“Will hundred septims do?”

“A hoondred, ye say… hmmm… mrmmm… ufhm…”

“Two hundred?”

“Twoo… like twoo… hmmm…. that’s bett’r, young oun… but… hrmmm…”

“Three hundred then. My last offer.”

“Free hundred, young oun?! Ye’ve got yeself a deal, young oun! Junp aboard, we’re leeving soon…”
The Capt’n couldn’t know that a ‘young oun’ would be prepared to pay much more than three hundred septims just to get away from The Summerset Isles but luckily, that was not necessary. He jumped on ‘Child of Ra Gada’ and after a few minutes the ship sailed from the docks and headed for Cyrodiil. As High Elf was standing on the stern and watching his homeland disappearing in the distance, he felt heavy burden being lifted from his shoulders.


While sailors were unloading the cargo, young High Elf handed a small pouch to The Capt'n. In the last week he got quite attached to the funny captain, his accent and the sailors - they were a merry bunch, particularly compared to his family.

“Thank ye, kind oun! And don’t get yo’self kill’d in the cap’tal, ye knou…”

“I’ll do my best. Thank you and… happy sails!” Having said that, a young High Elf left ‘Child of Ra Gada’. Immediately after he left, first mate Smoush approached The Capt’n.

“Take a good look at him, Capt’n, because that’s the last time you see this young man.”

“Ay knou, Smoush… poor kid, hi’ll get hisself kill’d in a matt’r of days… aye, a pity, hi looooks nice and well-mann’d. ”

“Indeed, Capt’n. But he must be as mad as the hatter! He hopes to succeed in the Arena! The A-r-e-n-a! Have you ever heard of a High Elf who survived the Arena? The A-r-e-n-a?!”

“Stoup spellin’ on mee, I get ye’… I couoldn’t belief heem when hi said that hi’s goin’ to the Arena. Imag’ne, a High Elf… I tould heem hi was bo’n t’be a mage, magus, whateveh… but hi j’st smiled and car’lessly waved hees hant… bout hi wasn’t a snobby one leyk most of them ar’!”

“Yes, he seemed down-to-earth. Aye, aye, poor kid…”

“Pour indeeyd…”

“Yay, yay…”

“That’s enoughg! I’ll sta't creyin’ if I jest fink abaut heem a littl’ lounger… let’s unload th’t cargoo, th’n we’re leevin’…”

“Yes, Capt’n!”

And while ‘Child of Ra Gada’ was sailing from Anvil, young High Elf was still standing on the pier… admiring the sunny sky, people chattering and strange yet amazing architecture of a town called Anvil. He felt a stunning relief, being far away from the Summerset Isles… and his family.

A little insecure because of the new land but cheerful at the same time, Loypuur headed down the pier.

I'm glad you're writing a story for your new character, Lopov. An Arena bound Altmer with a good attitude, sounds great! I look forward to more of Loypuur's adventures.

Also I love the way you used a screen shot in the story!

Yeah, and is that a dragonfly in that pic?

Thanks. First few updates will be general, mostly descriptions of encounters, daily events etc to get basic feeling of Loypuur's personality and morale. I have a plan to make more detailed updates later, with more references to his past.



Could be, honestly I didn't notice it when I took a screenshot, I saw it later when uploading it.

Anvil, Cyrodiil, 27th of Last Seed 3€433

Loypuur didn't feel especially self-confident while walking down the pier. While relieved to be far away from his homeland, he also felt alone. But that was not necessarily a bad thing, after all at least in Cyrodiil nobody knew him. For the first time in his life, he wasn't wearing exquisite robes and shiny shoes. He wasn't used to his new haircut as he was never allowed to have so short hair before. Before departing Summerset Isles, Loypuur changed his appearance as much as possible. He cut his long upswept hair and threw fancy robes through the window of his tower so they disappeared in the heavy seas below. Then he 'borrowed' a common green wool shirt from servant's quarters and equipped rusty armor that he had been hiding in his room... an armor that was given to him by his mentor many years ago.

It was practically useless by now but it was a disguise good enough to leave heavily guarded estate of his father. He was afraid that his height might reveal his identity but luckily the guard on duty didn't pay special attention to him.

As his thoughts were shifting from past to present, he noticed a woman painting not far away. Loypuur came closer and stood behind her. After admiring her creation which was obviously the lighthouse in the background, he decided to initiate a conversation.

“Nice painting.”

Astia Inventus turned around in a surprise – it’s been a long time since somebody commented on her drawings. A tall High Elf with very short vividly red hair and boyish face was standing behind her and looking at the picture. Astia immediately introduced herself and told him about her husband Pinarus and Anvil being quite lovely town if one doesn’t mind scruffy and smelly sailors. Loypuur didn't know if that's habit in Cyrodiil that people introduce to each other immediately but he kindly introduced himself in return and told her that he hails from Summerset Isles. After a short chat about latest rumors, Astia continued with her hobby and High Elf continued his walk through Anvil. He hasn't seen a similar town before and it seemed very warm and welcoming. His father would definitely call it shabby and dirty and that was for Loypuur another reason to like it.

He had a brief chat with Newheim the Portly - the harbormaster, afterwards he asked a friendly guard about the services in Anvil and tried a little flirting with Isolde but she wasn’t particularly interested in him and didn’t want to be his guide through the town – Loypuur ascribed her decline to his non-manly look. He later greeted a young Bosmer that was gardening behind her house, admired the statue of Dibella and her luxuriant curves… [ahem]… and chatted with Dumania Jirich, a primate of Dibella who told him that she was chosen as a primate because of her loving nature and striking looks. While Loypuur found that middle-aged blonde Imperial attractive, he preferred exotic ones like afore-mentioned Isolde for instance.

After a short visit to the castle courtyard, Loypuur returned to the town and made a day for Penniless Olvus, but not by giving him a coin… no, it was because Loypuur asked for his name. Olvus was surprised at first and thought that he didn’t hear it right but High Elf repeated his question. “Olvus… Penniless Olvus… that’s me.” High Elf smiled, introduced himself as Loypuur and then continued his walk. Olvus was speechless – he didn’t remember when a stranger asked for his name and then even told him his own in return! And a High Elf, can you imagine? Olvus didn’t know many High Elves but most of them were snobby and haughty and didn’t even take a look at him!

Loypuur paid a short visit to the chapel of Dibella, he had hoped to see Dumania again, perhaps she could share some Dibellian advice… but when he saw beautiful glass carvings of the Divines, he forgot about Dumania. He took a good look at each of them, particularly the Talos’ one. As unusual as it sounds, Loypuur the High Elf worshipped Talos. Thinking back, he didn’t know whether he did it to oppose his family or was he really interested in The Ninth Divine, but in time he became accustomed to it and it suited his lifestyle. Compared to his siblings and most of his race, Loypuur was never interested in magic and except knowing some alternating and restoring spells, he didn’t have the slightest idea about the other schools.

Sun was slowly setting as Loypuur entered The Count’s Arms, rented a room with ‘an excellent view of the city’ as promised by the innkeeper, dropped off his rusty mace, shield and gauntlets and returned downstairs for a supper. After some chatting with Wilbur and S’shani who told him that ‘this one’ was once a captain, High Elf went upstairs to his room and after reading the news about the Emperor’s assassination, he went to bed. He couldn’t sleep because of the excitement and… relief.

There was no need to pretend anymore. No need to play a role that he despised. No need to wear the finest clothes and socialize with the stupid nobility of Summerset Isles. Now he could wear a wool shirt, rusty armor and talk to commoners, even beggars. If his father saw him doing that, he would renounce him. What he probably already did after he had found a farewell letter. But Loypuur felt much better in Cyrodiil as he had in his homeland.

Much better.

Loypuur the Rat savior

Anvil, Cyrodiil, 28th of Last Seed 3€433

On his 2nd day in Anvil, Loypuur learnt that one should be very careful when renting a room in Cyrodiil and leaving some of the stuff inside with an intention to pick it up later. But first things first.

After well-deserved sleep Loypuur visited the chapel of Dibella and prayed for the Emperor as advised by some Chancellor Ocato in The Black Horse Courier newspaper. Loypuur never really had a feeling that there was an Emperor in Cyrodiil, especially because he was born in an aristocratic and racist family that never acknowledged Uriel Septim VII as the Emperor. That was in fact another reason why Loypuur became interested in the Emperor, often embarrassing his father with the questions about Uriel Septim and the Empire. After spending some time in the chapel he wanted to purchase some spells from Trevaia – the only one that seemed worth buying was a powerful healing spell called Heal Major Wounds. But since he didn’t have 394 septims to buy it, he decided to postpone the purchase. Curious about what lies on the other side of Anvil’s main gate, he wandered there and noticed… stables! There were many beautiful white horses that seemed fast and hardy. Loypuur loved animals, particularly horses and he decided to purchase one.

Well, things didn’t go as planned and he couldn’t afford a horse with only 174 septims. The good-looking Redguard horse seller demanded 4000 gold for one of her white beauties and Loypuur came to a realization that he’ll probably have to walk to the Imperial City. All in all, at least he could take a good look at the horse seller and he wondered whether she’s as wild as horse when in bed. Thoughtful about the horse seller he returned to Anvil and paid a visit to Morvayn’s peacemakers and fell in love with… two-handed silver battle axe! He just had to have it and after some bartering (Loypuur was obviously more successful with men than with women - something he wasn’t very proud of) he purchased a shiny axe for 170 septims. He decided to sell his rusty mace and shield that he left behind in his room at The Count’s Arms. But alas, that was not so easy. The innkeeper Wilbur already locked up his room and he didn’t let Loypuur in, no matter what. He demanded a full price of 25 gold which Loypuur couldn’t afford, having only 4 gold in his pockets.

Not worrying too much about the situation, young High Elf decided to look for some work (to earn at least 25 septims), there was definitely someone who would require his services, perhaps even a pretty damsel in distress… who would faint in his arms when he had saved her from whatever peril plagued her… Lost in his dreams he decided to ask for some work at the lighthouse. But there was no one and after admiring Anvil from the top of the tower, he returned to the docks. There he was approached by a rather strange-looking Bosmer who demanded that Loypuur guesses his name. He gave him two possible choices – Caenlorn or Maenlorn. ‘Must be one of those freaks that can be met in the docks’ thought Loypuur but decided to guess nonetheless since the fellow was likeable. And he was correct – it was Caenlorn! Caenlorn praised him and his good memory but Loypuur was pretty sure that the two had never met before. Anyway, what mattered was that Caenlorn directed Loypuur to the Fighters guild if he’s looking for work and has stones for it. As already mentioned, Loypuur always felt that he was born to be a warrior, so he headed to the Guild.

He was accepted into the Guild immediately and his superior Azzan had a first contract for him ready – apparently there were some rats that needed to be killed! ‘Should be fun’ thought Loypuur and looked for the house of madam Thelas. How very wrong he was! He didn’t need to kill the rats, he had to protect them! It didn’t matter to Loypuur as long as he’ll earn something and get an access to his room at The Count’s Arms so he went to the basement. There fell a first victim of his new silver axe – the starving mountain lion. It was beautiful yet deadly-looking animal and Loypuur never saw its kind before. But as it turned out, madam Thelas with a high-pitched voice wanted Loypuur to get rid of every possible mountain lion in the vicinity. She advised him to seek Pinarus Inventius for help. ‘Inventius? That must be the painter’s husband’ thought Loypuur but unfortunately their house was locked. After a fruitless search through Anvil, specifically The Flowing Bowl and a strange place that started with ‘F’, Loypuur finally found the esteemed hunter close to the main gate. They made a short work of the mountain lions but even that was not enough to please madam Thelas. ‘No wonder she’s living with rats, probably no man could please her… ever’ thought Loypuur but decided to return a smile even when she ordered him to spy on the back of her house because there was supposedly one of her neighbors sneaking around. As unbelievable as it sounded, there was in fact an Argonian behind her house, placing some meat close to the hole that led directly to Arvena’s basement. Having no choice, Loypuur confronted her.

As it turned out, the Argonian in question was no other than Quill-Weave, an obviously famous writer about whom Loypuur read yesterday. Since her voice was a balm to his ears (not high-pitched) and since he believed her that she didn’t know that her meat had attracted mountain lions to the town, Loypuur decided not to betray her. She promised him a reward at her house but this time Loypuur hoped that it’s not what he had thought it was. In the end, everyone was happy. Mountain lions were slain so madam Thelas gave Loypuur a hundred septims, more than enough to extend the lodging at The Count’s Arms. Quill-Weave’s secret was not made public and she taught Loypuur a few good acrobatic moves. Loypuur was finally able to gain an access to his room and after supper he went to his comfortable bed. It was funny and memorable day and thinking back Loypuur came to a conclusion that if Wilbur hadn’t locked him out of his room in the morning, then mountain lions would have killed madam Thelas’ rats.

Welcome to the arena of fanfic, Lopov! You’ve done a nice job of getting Loypurr into Cyrodiil as you begin to introduce him to us. We learn that he has an eye for the ladies, even if he doesn't quite have the luck to match his taste. Introducing himself to a beggar is a wonderful way of showing us that he is serious about wanting to be rid of his haughty high elven upbringing. And, alas, he soon runs into the economic reality of Cyrodiil as he longs for a white horse. So, naturally, he uses his stones to take on a rat quest for hire!

In your episode called ‘First Steps’, you do some what we call ‘head hopping’. That is, clearly this episode is meant to be from Loypurr’s perspective, yet we are somehow aware of what both Astia and Penniless are thinking. Although the ‘omniscient’ point of view can be used, very few writers do so because it not only removes the mystery of what others are thinking, but is a constant reminder that we are reading the work of an all-knowing scribe instead of being fully immersed into the limited perspective of one character. You may want to google ‘fiction pov’ and review more details on perspective in fiction.

Best wishes, and be careful that Dead-is-Dead does not force a premature end to your Altmer’s tale!

A very valuable advice, I will do some googling and adjust my writing in the future updates.

Thanks for a kind welcome and response!

P.S.
I corrected some grammar mistakes and added two screenies, one in each update.

Watchman of the merCandise

Anvil, Cyrodiil, 29th of Last Seed 3€433

It was around 11 am when Loypuur, now an apprentice of the Fighters guild, entered Lelles’ quality MerCandise. The architectural design of the store was something that Loypuur didn’t get used to yet. In the crystalline towers where he spent most of youth, the ceilings were so high that it was hard to see how far they extend. In Anvil, for instance, ceilings were so low that he had to be careful not to bump his head into them. As he introduced himself to the Breton trader and told him why he had arrived, he couldn’t help but notice that Norbert Lelles wasn’t impressed. Loypuur couldn’t blame him, after all a High Elf wielding a battle axe was not something one could see every day. ‘Perhaps he expected a bulky Nord or tough Orc’. However, Lelles entrusted him with watching over his store and told him to seek him out at The Flowing Bowl when / if he solves the break-ins.

As he left, Loypuur felt that gentle feeling of being a little nervous. It happened rarely that he was entrusted with something important and although Lelles told him that break-ins happen during the night, Loypuur decided to take his assignment very seriously and patrol also during the day. When he thoroughly searched for all possible entrances to the store, he sat down in a wooden chair behind the counter. From the chair he had a good view at the back entrance and the main room at the same time.

To pass the time, he read Provinces of Tamriel and admitted that a description of his homeland was quite accurate:

»… and the natives are unwelcoming to foreigners, so the ancient, chivalric high culture of the Aldmeri is little affected by modern Imperial mercantilism«

Yes, very true. Loypuur sometimes wondered if he should consider himself as a mistake of the nature since he was not alike majority of his race. When his brothers and sisters were practicing magic, he was skipping the lessons and preferred spending time with his father’s warriors. At first they thought that Loypuur’s father, a powerful and cruel mage, is sending his son down to spy on them but once they realized that Loypuur is with them at his own will, they gladly accepted him. Even when Loypuur saw that not all of them were performing their duties as they should and didn’t turn them in, some of them especially their superior Khedira, repaid his kindness – they taught him what he wanted to do the most –to fight. To feel like a true warrior. Loypuur smiled whenever he remembered those warriors but his smile waned because he always remembered their demise. The demise for which he was responsible. He suddenly heard the door creaking and his thoughts quickly shifted from past to present… someone just entered.

As it turned out, it was one of the customers - Mirabelle Monet whom Loypuur had yesterday while looking for Pinarus. Loypuur explained to her that the shop is closed today but Mirabelle decided to spend some there nonetheless. Loypuur didn’t object of course, he preferred some company and although they were mostly silent, Loypuur often took a look at her. A quilted doublet fit her nicely. He received two more visits during the watch. The next one was S’shani, a Khajiit whom he met at The Count’s Arms. And the last one was no other than Quill-Weave, famous writer whose secret was safe with Loypuur. High Elf had to admit to himself that he made quite some ‘friends’ in his short stay in the Imperial Province - folk in Anvil was nice and easy-going.

He had a supper at the counter and since nighttime was slowly approaching, he decided to equip the rest of his battle gear – rusty gauntlets and a helmet. He positioned himself next to the display case in the corner to have even better control over the store. As he noticed his reflection in the glass of the display case, he leaned closer to see how he looks like – and once again he had to admit that he couldn’t look intimidating no matter what. Rusty helm made his bright blue eyes even more noticeable and his very thin face looked even thinner. Loypuur wondered if he’ll look the same clumsy in the Arena. In the end, that’s why he came to Cyrodiil. To prove to himself that he can succeed as a warrior. As a fighter. As a duelist.

Back in Summerset Isles, a Redguard warrior Khedira, who worked for Loypuur’s father, once called him a ‘duelist’ because Loypuur was very good with a mace in an amateur duel against Khedira’s kid Sami. The name stuck with Loypuur and he later became a trainee of the afore-mentioned Khedira. So despite his non-intimidating appearance Loypuur was (for a High Elf) quite skilled with blunt weapons. The only weakness, as told by his mentor Khedira, was that Loypuur hesitated too long before attacking. He was too often dodging the attacks and moving around instead of being offensive. But when he attacked – nothing could stop him. Loypuur smiled when he remembered his mentor and his son but once again his smile waned away. And once again he heard the door creaking…

He quickly turned around and noticed a bulky Nord sneaking inside. ‘Now, now, what do we have here’ thought Loypuur and stepped in front of the Nord.

“Good evening! What are you doing in the store so late?”

“Just go away!” the rogue Nord said gruffly.

Loypuur needed no other proof – this was the burglar and he caught him in the act. Nord seemed confused as he was now crouching and looking from one direction to another, obviously without any idea what to do.

“I think you’re the one who should go away. Or better yet, come with me. To the guards, that is.”

“I’ve got nothing more to say to you!” replied Nord and Loypuur noticed that the burglar is losing his nerves.

“In that case… I… must make you leave,” answered Loypuur with a shy smile. He decided not to whack the Nord with an axe, after all he was not a murderer and the Nord perhaps wasn’t either. Instead he readied his fists and ‘pushed’ Storn the Burly towards the exit.

“Whaaaaat?!” screamed Nord, pulled out his long-sword and smashed Loypuur. ‘The Nord obviously wants it the hard way’. Loypuur readied his silver axe and hit him, sending him a few meters back. But since he didn’t want to splatter Nord’s blood all over the store, he decided to lure him outside. Besides, guards outside will definitely be able to arrest the short-tempered Nord. As it turned out, the Nord wasn’t alone - here were a Bosmer and a Dunmer waiting outside and they immediately joined their accomplice in attacking Loypuur. High Elf was running backwards, intentionally dodging or blocking the attacks of the trio. He remembered his master Khedira’s words – “Don’t hesitate, Loypuur! Block and attack!” He wanted to but he couldn’t! He didn’t like killing common burglars even if they turned out to be murderers. Loypuur was instead hoping that a guard close to the gate will notice him being attacked and will attempt to arrest the trio.

His predictions were correct and as they got closer to the main gate, the guard joined the fight! ‘This Nord just won’t let me go!’ thought Loypuur because a bulky Nord ignored the guard and continued smashing towards him. Loypuur noticed that both Dunmer and Bosmer were attacking the guard who was now outnumbered and now it was time to stop this!
“Don’t hesitate, Loypuur! Block and attack!” And he did exactly so – he blocked an incoming Nord’s attack and then with one well-placed swing ended the burglar’s life. Loypuur was a bit shocked as Nord’s body lifelessly fell to the wooden ground… it’s been a few years since he killed someone… but now was not the time for the past! Now he needed to help the guard! With a few swings from his now bloody silver axe he weakened a Bosmer and Dunmer and the guard was thus able to finish them off on his own. It was done – the persons responsible for break-ins were dealt with but unfortunately it ended in bloodshed.

As Loypuur was walking over to The Flowing Bowl to inform Lelles about the situation, he got some doubts. ‘Will I succeed in the Arena? I dislike killing, even if it involves burglars or murderers. How much do I even know about the Arena? Very little… apart from what I heard from occasional travelers and adventurers that were passing through Firsthold. There should be even more killing. Duel until death. But on the other hand there must be certain charm in all of this… Guess I won’t be any smarter until I see and experience it with my own eyes… and blood.’

Norbert Lelles was overjoyed when he heard that the burglars have been dealt with. It was a shame that it had to end in bloodshed and while Loypuur agreed, there was no other choice – the burglars were prepared to kill anyone just to get away. Loypuur wondered whether all bandits in Cyrodiil are the same, being over-confident in their abilities even when it’s obvious that they’re going to lose. Sounds like High-Elven attitude. After receiving his payment, Loypuur headed to the Fighters Guild where he decided to spend a night free of charge. He needed to save some septims to afford a healing spell from Trevaia in the chapel and thus he couldn’t afford to pay 25 gold for a room at The Count’s Arms. Besides that, he wanted to save some more gold. Loypuur didn’t know for what exactly, perhaps for some better armor like steel cuirass, boots or helmet… He decided to search for some more work in the morning. At first he’ll pay a visit to the lighthouse, perhaps there will be someone this time and if not… he remembered a desperate looking lady of his race standing on a ship at the docks. Perhaps she’s a damsel in distress and needs a hero to save her!

I like the way Loypuur’s wandering thoughts while he was waiting filled in some of his background.

Oh, and I like the way he lured the burglars outside hoping to not have to kill them.

Thanks, Grits - time for two new stories.




As Loypuur slowly began to wake up, he noticed someone standing next to his bed staring at him. He slowly opened his eyes, pretending to be asleep and saw Huurwen, a fellow guild member. ‘Must be because I’m sleeping in my loincloth only’ thought Loypuur, quite delighted that there was someone actually looking at him while being almost naked. He decided to lie still for a few more minutes. Huurwen eventually wandered off and now it was time to stand up and look for more work!

He slept well in a company of fellow guild members, the only shame being that Vigdis who was sleeping in a bed beside his, preferred sleeping in her clothes while Sten the Ugly, who was also sleeping in a bed beside his, preferred sleeping in his loincloth. And while Loypuur was glad to have a bed free of charge, he didn’t foresee his long-term future in the guild. Perhaps he wouldn’t even join if not being locked out of his room two days ago. As much as Loypuur liked being a warrior, he never fancied guilds, instead he imagined himself as a knight on a white horse, saving pretty damsels in distress.

Getting lost in dreams was something that Loypuur was very good at and before he ‘woke up’ he already arrived to the lighthouse, hoping to get some work. But yet again, there was no one and he decided not to waste time and instead headed for the ship in the docks on whose deck he saw a noble-looking lady. She was a High Elf like him and not particularly good-looking. But she was in a distress nonetheless! As she told Loypuur, a crystal ball was being kept in the ship but she couldn’t reach it because the ship was haunted. Apparently someone murdered the whole crew and now restless spirits of the slain sailors were trying to kill anyone that entered the ship.

Loypuur decided to help the lady, since he had some experiences killing the undead. Thanks to master Khedira, he knew that only silver weapons can harm undead and Loypuur already had a silver axe. He silently entered the cabin and immediately sensed a presence of something sinister. Not only the stench of the dead but also strange blue light that was emanating through the closed door of captain’s bedroom. He waited for a few seconds, thinking that whatever is on the other side, might perhaps open the door but that didn’t happen.

‘Loypuur, you have to be quick now. No hesitating… no dodging… just go ahead and attack!’

After he encouraged himself, he stormed through the door and almost ‘bumped’ into a spectral apparition. There was no time to admire the ghost’s sword or its spooky face… Loypuur swung his silver axe two times and it was enough… a green gas was getting out of the ghost, leaving only a glowing slime behind. Now he had some time to look around. There was a corpse of a dead msn, presumably the captain, on the bed and blood was everywhere around. ‘Whoever murdered him, must be a cruel person’ as he bent over the corpse, checking for something of importance. He found two keys of which one was identical to the one given to him by the lady while the other one obviously opened something else. What exactly, Loypuur decided to find out later. Now it was time to send the restless sailors to eternal rest.

The spectral sailors didn’t give him much trouble and apart from few scars and bruises, he dispatched of them quickly. If Loypuur found a scene in the captain’s cabin to be gruesome, then the discovery on the lower deck was even more so. All sailors were covered in blood and were obviously suffering before they died. Sometimes it looked like the murderer dragged the corpses and put them in unnatural positions like on a small table or over the barrels. But Loypuur wasn’t there to catch the murderer and he didn’t even intend to – this was a task for the guards. He retrieved a crystal ball from the chest and returned it to the lady on the deck. He was rewarded with a warm smile and enchanted cutlass and Loypuur immediately saw this as a great opportunity to earn a few more septims.

He flinged the cutlass in the air so it turned around and hoped to catch it but he threw it too high and the cutlass almost ended in the sea below. Loypuur quickly checked around if someone saw his incompetence of catching the cutlass but obviously people on the docks were too occupied with other things. There was only one thing to do at the haunted ship – find out which keyhole does the captain’ key fit in. He returned to the cabin and quickly found a locked chest. Loypuur unlocked it and found… a hundred gold! Was it his right to take it? Should he leave it there for the authorities to take it? … Loypuur checked around if there’s someone in the room although he already knew that beside the slain captain and remains of the ghost there was none. ‘Dead don’t need gold, do they? And the authorities did nothing to put those poor souls to rest’ he said and placed the gold in his purse.

After a meal at The Flowing Bowl in a company of a guild member Rhano, Loypuur headed to the chapel and had enough septims to buy so called Heal major wounds spell. Since it was afternoon, he decided to look for some more work at the other ship in the docks. But as it turned out, the entrance to the cabin was tightly locked and there was no one on the deck. ‘I can as well take it easy until the evening’ figured Loypuur and went for a short stroll through lovely Anvil. As he came close to the chapel, he decided to visit the castle. He heard a rumor about the countess who apparently lost her husband many years ago. ‘Must be a competent woman to run the town like Anvil on her own’ thought Loypuur as he entered the castle’s hall. After admiring pictures of Anvil and its vicinity in the large foyer he went to the other room where a counters herself was sitting. There was complete silence in the room and Loypuur had a feeling similar to one in the chapel.

He introduced himself to the beautiful countess Millona but was careful not to act too seductive for two reasons. First one being that she was a countess and second one that her bodyguard was right behind him and Loypuur didn’t know what the penalties for flirting with the countess are. His services were obviously not required at the castle and he took a slow walk back to the mainland. After admiring the sunset from the bridge he remembered seeing a farm not far from Anvil’s main gate. Loypuur spent a lot of time gardening in his past and he had quite some knowledge about flora of Tamriel. But as it turned out, his help regarding gardening was not needed here, instead the farm owner Maeva the Buxom (‘a dominate-looking Nord with big boobies’ thought Loypuur) was recently abandoned by her husband, some guy called Bjalfi the contemptible. ‘Hmm… what kind of name is that?’

But that was not the problem – the problem was that Bjalfi escaped with a mace that obviously belonged to Maeva before the marriage. Loypuur wondered whether Maeva really wants that mace back or is just desperate because her husband didn’t escape with a lover but with… a mace! ‘Strange times’ thought High Elf but decided to look for the mace in a nearby Fort Strand tomorrow. He remembered seeing this fort from the bridge linking Anvil and the castle so he shouldn’t have any difficulties finding it. Since Maeva the Very Buxom didn’t mind his company, he joined her for a supper and although she was telling him about her husband all the time, the supper was good nonetheless. Loypuur once again agreed that Nords are good cooks, no matter if they are contemptible or buxom.

It was late as he left the farm and slowly headed to the guild. When he arrived, most of guild members were already asleep but unfortunately this time everyone was sleeping in their clothes. Well since Loypuur just couldn’t sleep in his clothes and since there was a chest beside his bed that definitely served a purpose for storing the equipment in, he undressed, leaned a silver battle axe against the wall and lied down in his bed. Before falling asleep, he was hoping to be awakened in the same manner as today… that is being observed by some guild member, preferably a female one.

The buxom widow

Anvil, Cyrodiil, 31st of Last Seed 3€433

As Loypuur slowly opened his eyes, he once again noticed someone standing close to the bed. As he opened them a little more, he saw… Azzan! ‘Oops, no time to sleep anymore’ he thought, quickly stood up and got dressed. There was no time to waste as his plan for today was to look for Bjalfi the Contemptible in nearby Fort Strand.

As he was approaching the old fort, Loypuur noticed that there wasn’t much of a fort left apart from some ruined towers. But he didn’t have a lot of time to study the fort because he was ‘greeted’ by an aggressive Dunmer swordswoman.

“Good morning! I’m here to look for Bjalfi…”
*Dark Elf swings with a sword, Loypuur jumps back*
“Calm down now! As I said, I have some business with Bja…”
*Dark Elf swings once again and hits Loypuur*

“Well if you insist!” Loypuur got angry, readied his silver axe and after one powerful strike the Dark Elf was dealt with. As she fell to the ground, he suddenly felt a piercing pain striking his left arm. He was just hit by an arrow! He noticed a Bosmer archer inside the fort courtyard that was getting ready for another shot. Loypuur had barely enough time to jump to side and hide behind the stony wall. While Bosmer was quick and agile and Loypuur was just the opposite in his heavy armor, he had difficulties catching the Bosmer archer who was successfully running away from him. In the end, Loypuur cornered the Bosmer at a nearby rock and finished him off.

‘Now that was a kind welcome! I suspect that all residents of Fort Strand are the same.’
And he was correct. But this time Loypuur was ready and he didn’t even try to talk some sense into marauders’ heads. He didn’t hesitate when attacking… and marauders, whether they were Wood Elves, Nords, Argonians or his race fell one by one. He found an iron cuirass and a helmet on some shelves and decided to replace it for his rusty one. Of course Loypuur could just take the full set of iron armor from numerous slain marauders but he didn’t feel like taking from the dead. Besides, most of cuirasses wouldn’t fit him either, because they were crafted for smaller people and Loypuur was very tall. Eventually he came across the Nord wearing a better armor than the others – steel greaves and boots. But Loypuur also noticed that this Nord was carrying an unusual looking mace at his belt. ‘Must be Bjalfi the Contemptible. Let’s hope I can talk some sense into his thick head.’

But it was in vain – as soon as Loypuur initiated a conversation, the Nord attacked but he turned out not be particularly tough opponent and Loypuur finished him with a few swings. “May you find peace which you couldn’t find on this world, Bjalfi” said Loypuur as he was standing next to the dead Nord. ‘I just made one woman out there a widow…’ and the feeling wasn’t exactly great but then again, he had no choice. He picked up the mace on which initials of Maeva and Bjalfi were engraved and decided to return to Whitmond farm.

On his way out he became careless and he stepped on a pressure plate that activated a swinging mace which heavily hit Loypuur in the back. Luckily his newly acquired iron cuirass eased the blow but his back will probably hurt for a few days. On his way to Whitmond he opened a bottle of cold beer that he found in a chest and was slowly drinking it, not only to ease the pain but to feel a bit better because he never killed so many people at once. Although all of them deserved it, Loypuur wasn’t used to killing and he wasn’t sure how Maeva will react to the news about husband’s death.

As it turned out, she was happy to see her mace returned and didn’t really care much about her husband. She ‘dedicated’ him a few ‘touchy’ words but obviously didn’t have any intention to take care of the funeral or see her husband for one last time. Her reaction surprised Loypuur as he was sure that Maeva will be at least a little sadder but in the end he didn’t know what their relationship was like in the beginning. ‘Guess they didn’t love each other from the start.’

Sun was slowly setting as he arrived to Anvil and after he performed some repairs at Morvayn’s Peacemakers and purchased new iron boots, he headed for The Flowing Bowl to have a late dinner. He was not in a good mood, the scenes of killing marauders were still too vivid in his mind and he bought a bottle of cheap wine to relax a little. Not even Isolde could improve his mood and after a dinner he headed to Lelles’ store to sell some old and buy some new stuff. He sold rusty iron greaves and purchased tan linens. His current battle outfit consists of complete set of iron armor except for tan linens which Loypuur prefers over greaves. Since he didn’t feel like heading to Guild yet although he should probably rest because his back pain was getting more intense, he instead headed for a short walk east of Anvil.

There he discovered a unique standing stone, definitely one of numerous about which he read about in The New Doomstones series from Quill-Weave. He decided his fate to be led by The Lady and gained a lesser power, which boosted his endurance and willpower when casted. ‘Could be helpful for the Arena.’ He made a short walk to a nearby shrine and found out that it belongs to Mara. After a short prayer Loypuur decided to return to the Guild. He was feeling a bit better when walking to the town, perhaps a gift from The Lady and a prayer to Mara helped. It was already the 1st of Heartfire as he came to Anvil and apart from a few guards and a sailor the town was empty and silent. And silent was the Fighters Guild as well since most of the members were already sleeping. And while Loypuur was exhausted and had heavy back pain, he still had enough strength to check, who the beauty in blue velvet outfit sleeping in a bed beside his was. ‘Ah, it’s that Dunmer. Forgot her name, starts with L… Llensi… Llernsi… Llansi… Lllll….’ Too tired to think about her name, Loypuur fell asleep in a second.

Funny how little things like this happen in a virtual world, you know? This portion of the tale (where Loypuur is in Anvil) reminds me of Eldar, when he cursed the rats, Pinarus and his shirt, etc. I still remember that moment from months ago.

I am far behind on this (and all the other reading I've been doing) but you know me. I'll catch up!

Loypuur woke up around 12 am and while most of his guild members were already busy, he decided to take it easy! Back pain wasn’t gone yet and he wasn’t in a mood for stretching either, besides he needed to think about the latest events and plans for the future. After all, he hasn’t arrived to Cyrodiil to admire beautiful sunsets at The Gold Coast or flirting with exotic Redguard lasses, at least not in first place.

He sat down on a stony bench under a tree in front of The Count’s Arms, crossed his legs, leaned his head a little back and closed his eyes. He could feel the warm sun on his cheeks and heard a murmur of someone talking in the distance. On occasion he heard a sound of heavy boots chinking which meant that a guard must have passed him.

He came to Cyrodiil a few days ago with 200 septims and now, few days after, he had barely 35 in his pocket. Although he hoped to earn more, he didn’t worry either, after all he bought a very valuable silver battle axe and powerful healing spell. Loypuur disliked casting spells but sometimes his knowledge of basic alternating and restoring spells could come in handy. And while his magicka reservoir was huge, he didn’t regenerate it – the curse of The Atronach. Another reason why he was a shame to his family – a mage who doesn’t regenerate his magicka! While his family couldn’t get over it, Loypuur had no real problems… he never felt that he was a mage. Problem solved.

But his thoughts shift to past too many times! It was because of the Arena that he arrived to Cyrodiil. And he wasn’t any closer to it by spending his days in Anvil. It’s just that Loypuur hoped to earn more septims to buy better equipment. But as it looked like, his iron armor will have to do in the Arena. Or perhaps he will get a special armor there, just for the combatants? That he didn’t know. In fact he didn’t know a lot about the Arena at all, apart from few facts and rumors that he heard back in The Summerset Isles.

It was time to depart for the Imperial City and this was when Loypuur suddenly became… afraid. He had no idea about Cyrodiil in general and didn’t know where the Imperial city was. He saw a signpost outside Anvil and he could only hope that there are more of them on the main roads. He didn’t know how long will it take him to get there… days, weeks? Will he survive it? He wasn’t used to long marches… the only marches that he attended were those when he joined master Khedira and his army. Loypuur intentionally behaved badly on occasion so his father didn’t take him with him on his ‘journeys.’ ‘Well that is, if executions count as journeys’. While his father was convinced that he punished Loypuur by leaving him home, he had in fact made him happy! Because those were the only occasions when he had joined master Khedira and his soldiers and participated in fighting. Since he was very young at that time and since master Khedira didn’t want his superior’s son to get hurt, they mostly let him deal with weak enemies but Loypuur nonetheless felt like a true warrior!

Yet again he remembered his past! So as told before, he wasn’t used to long marches and he was afraid that he might get tired too often on his way to the capital. How much food shall he take with him? Where will he sleep if he doesn’t find an inn or a town? Will he survive the attacks of bandits and wild animals? How will he find himself up in the capital of Tamriel? But then again, these thoughts and fear of the unknown made Loypuur eagerly anticipate his departure! Scared on one hand, curious about his future on the other hand, Loypuur realized that he won’t be any smarter by sitting on the bench. It was decided – tomorrow, on the 2nd of Heartfire, he will depart Anvil as soon as he gets up.

He had basic iron armor, a quality silver battle axe, 35 gold and he’ll take some food from the Guild. If there won’t be enough of it in the Guild, he may visit The Flowing Bowl to purchase additional supplies which means that he may leave Anvil with much less than 35 septims. After one last walk to the shrine of Mara to admire the sunset, young adventurer returned to the Guild and went to sleep.

He must be in a good condition for what awaits him!

It was around 10:30 am that Loypuur left Anvil. He could feel that he was postponing the departure for as long as possible… first he went to buy some food although he already took a lot from the Guild. Then he went to the chapel and prayed to Mara who rewarded him with a boost of willpower and a warm Divine smile. Only after that, when he really didn’t have anything else to do, young High Elf left Anvil and looked back on more than one occasion – he really grew fond of that town.

Few miles away from Anvil he was approached by a Khajiit highwayman who demanded all of his money. Loypuur had 12 gold in his pockets and he told a Khajiit that he doesn’t have any. It didn’t help, a Khajiit attacked him nonetheless and Loypuur killed him with the silver battle axe. For some reason the Khajiit’s weapon was poisoned with a personality draining poison – Loypuur didn’t understand why would a road bandit lower his personality but each to their own.

He bought more food at The Brina Cross Inn and continued his journey. Soon after that, he noticed a town located high on his left and trees around it looked burnt. And it looked like the town walls were burnt as well but they could as well be so dark – Loypuur couldn’t say for sure from the distance. When he came to a signpost, he found out that the town on his left must be Kvatch. He was in a dilemma whether to continue and have a meal somewhere in the nature or stop at Kvatch. After some pondering he decided to visit the town, curious why the trees around it were burnt.

After making only a few steps on the road to Kvatch he bumped into one of his race… and he seemed very delusional! He was rambling about a town in flames, Daedra from the gate and everyone being dead… Loypuur couldn’t ask anything more because the High Elf immediately ran away. ‘Now what was he talking about? A town destroyed, Daedra from Oblivion, …I should go and see what’s going on there but I guess he was drunk… Everything seems quiet down here.’

And so Loypuur went on…

*laughs* Yeah, 'cause lowering Personality is soo important during a melee fight!

Very cool to see you're continuing this, scoundrel. Have a happy Easter.

Thank you and likewise!

I'm really enjoying this!!...

Although, every time I almost catch up, you post more!!... ...I'll definately get there though, it's brilliant stuff...

I've missed just wandering around Anvil, though I've never done some of the quests there...

I must compliment you on your ability to tell stories in a different language...Absolutely amazing...I've barely got a decent enough grasp of english , so the idea of trying something in a second one is terrifying...Well done to you!!...

Amazing, looking forward to much more...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

Thanks for your compliments, McBadgere.



Yes, it takes quite some of my free time, basically because I re-read a story many times before I decide to post it and probablyI even then I don't notice every mistake. Unfortunately my vocabulary is limited when it comes to certain aspects, for instance I'm bad at writing combats because I lack appropriate words.



My problem is that my game is quite some days ahead of my updates and sometimes I have difficulties writing the past events, especially since I want to have most of the days covered in the stories. "Luckily", I didn't have a lot of time to game during Easter and I had at least partialy dealt with writing backlog so there are some new stories coming up.

Thanks once again and I hope you'll enjoy Loypuur's adventures in future as well.

Loypuur woke up, covered in sweat. His heart was beating so fast that he had a feeling it would jump out of his chest. Everything around him was dark. ‘Where am I?’ he asked himself and noticed he’s lying on a bed. ‘A bed?’ He quickly jumped out of the bed and while doing so, knocked something down, so it fell to the floor with a loud sound. ‘What was that?’ – he began to look for whatever he knocked down. Then he noticed a window, a large window… he noticed stars on the clear night sky… and then he saw the stables on the courtyard below. Then he remembered…

‘The inn… I’m at the inn… Gottshaw inn.’

He sat back on the bed, breathing deeply. His eyes were slowly getting adapted to the darkness and he could see more clearly… his iron helmet that he knocked on the floor, was lying in the corner… his wool shirt was on a top of the drawers… in the next corner was his damaged iron armor, small silver axe and a shield… a shield with an emblem of the wolf – the shield of Kvatch.

“Kvatch…” whispered Loypuur… but like the battle for Kvatch was not enough, he now had a nightmare. A strange nightmare, partly related to Kvatch and partly to some old man with the amulet. Loypuur tried as best as he could to remember the nightmare…

… he was among the smoke and fire of Oblivion, fighting alongside Savlian Matius, Tierra and Berich Inian Hordes of scamps, clanfears, Dremora churl warriors and casters were coming from all directions. They were fighting fiercely but they were outnumbered. His friends fell one by one… first Berich, when a disgusting scamp stuck its claws through his chest… second Tierra when a clanfear pushed her into a lava pool… third Savlian whose skull was crushed by churl’s mace… then the Daedra stopped and looked at Loypuur. They slowly made a circle around him… Loypuur knew the end was near. As they swarmed on him, he closed his eyes… nothing? Why is nothing happening?

‘Quickly, this way!’

Loypuur opened his eyes. He was not in the portal of Oblivion anymore. Instead, a strong Redguard in ornate looking heavy armor grabbed his shoulder and was leading him down a corridor. It looked like sewers. There was an old man running next to Loypuur, wearing noble clothes and red amulet. Loypuur saw that amulet before but couldn’t remember where? Before he could ask where they are going, they were attacked… faceless people in red robes attacked out of nowhere, casted an unusual looking armor on them and attacked with bound weapons… Loypuur had no weapon and he had to attack the enemies with bare fists… when he successfully knocked down one of the attackers, he felt a hand on his shoulder… he turned around fast, ready to punch the attacker but it was the old man… he was holding Loypuur’s hand and handed him the amulet. Then he mumbled something that started with letter ‘J’ but Loypuur couldn’t understand it… as he asked the old man what was he trying to say, a blade pierced through old man’s chest, blood splattering on Loypuur’s face. Behind him a man in conjured armor was standing, laughing wickedly from under his mask.

‘Nooooooooooooooooo….!’ shouted the strong Redguard and attacked the assassin. Loypuur tried to help the Redguard but suddenly everything around him began to fade away… walls were disappearing and fire was coming from behind them… he could smell the smoke and the smell of burnt bodies… is he going back to Oblivion? Then everything around him burst, the strong light blinded him and everything became silent… is he safe? He didn’t dare to open his eyes yet… everything was still silent… Loypuur slowly opened his eyes. There was someone standing in front of him… but who? When he finally opened his eyes, he noticed… a Dremora! Staring at him with evil look and bloody mace in his hand.
‘Die, mortal! Die!’ And with one strong blow he crushed Loypuur's skull!

That’s how Loypuur remembered his nightmare. He had no idea who the old man was… what was he trying to say… and what was that amulet… he remembered seeing it somewhere before but he couldn’t remember where… who were the men in red robes? Why were they faceless? Too many questions… and not an answer to any of them.

It started to dawn and sunlight slowly brightened the small room in the Gottshaw Inn. With the coming light, Loypuur noticed numerous wounds and burns on his skin. That was not surprising… since he just fought the battle of his life. Although he slept for at least twelve hours, he still felt tired. But more than that… he felt sad. Sad because he remembered brave and good people that had died in Kvatch. Ironically, he was proclaimed the hero of that town. Loypuur couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it although his laugh was a bitter one. ‘An amateur like me saving the town!’

And although that was a nightmare, it was not a dream… his wounds and vivid memories of burnt people, man in the cage, scamps, clanfears, dremora warriors, blood fountains, dusty towers and many more convinced him that he, Loypuur, was a part of it. He needed air, fresh air, to calm down and recollect his thoughts.

…

Few hours later he was slowly walking towards Anvil, his wounds preventing him to move any faster. Apart from his gauntlets which were too damaged, the rest of his armor was possible to repair and Loypuur decided to perform the repairs at Morvayn’s Peacemakers. He didn’t plan to return to Anvil so soon but it was necessary.

Thinking back he had absolutely no idea from where did he gain the courage to enter the Oblivion gate. He wasn’t convinced that he’d do it the second time, not because he would be selfish but because he wasn’t prepared for the horrors again. Perhaps it was the mention of ‘people trapped inside the town’ that persuaded Loypuur to enter the gate. He remembered that he said to Savlian: “If there are people to be saved, then I’m going through that gate!” He didn’t regret his decision but he was still asking himself how did he manage. He just couldn’t understand – an amateur like him… entered the Oblivion gate… fought through the hordes of Daedra and ascended their bloody towers… removed the Sigil stone and closed the gate… and while these memories made him feel proud, there were also sad memories…

…like the one of Kvatch soldier Ilend Vonius being slain by a clanfear. Or the man in the cage whose name Loypuur didn’t know but who told him how to close the portal… ‘What was your name, unknown hero… what was your name?’… probably he’ll never find the answer to that. Because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t break through the brood cage in which the old man was being kept and was forced to let him to whatever fate awaited him.

…flashback… a burnt hand sticking out of lava pool holding a silver axe. Loypuur didn’t know who the burnt man was but it was like he wanted to give him the weapon. Although he had his large silver battle-axe, it offered him almost no protection against running clanfears… Loypuur carefully took the dead man’s axe and a shield with Kvatch emblem from fallen Ilend Vonius. Wearing this shield and this axe made him feel stronger and he felt better knowing that the last things his enemies will see - will be his silver axe and an emblem of the town which they destroyed! This very axe and this very shield were still with him, accompanying him to Anvil.

…flashback… how victorious did he feel after closing the gate… only to find out that the battle for Kvatch had just began. Luckily they managed to get all civilians to safety – a brave Redguard warrior Tierra helped them to the refugee camp. But remembering Tierra made Loypuur remember Jesan Rilian… brave Imperial whom he talked to in the chapel… and who was slain when overwhelmed by three scamps at the castle Kvatch courtyard… ‘Jesan Rilian died because of dirty tactics used by Daedra – they couldn’t finish him alone so they grouped and attacked him together – cowards!’

…flashback… Jesan’s death made Loypuur go mad and he didn’t care about his wounds anymore, he just went on and slew everyone in his path, from scamps to clanfears and Dremora Churls. And while he couldn’t help Jesan anymore, he saved another life… that of Berich Inian. Inside the castle, Berich was overwhelmed by a clanfear and two scamps. Loypuur hurried to him and attacked the clanfear, distracting it. Then he repeated the procedure with two scamps – the end result was that all three attacked him, leaving Berich Inian alone which was exactly what Loypuur wanted. He finished off the Daedra and could see the gratitude in Berich’s eyes.

…flashback… after he killed a scamp, Loypuur bent over to the dead man in noble clothes… it was Ormellius Goldwine – Count Kvatch. They were too late… a few minutes later when he reported the count’s death to Savlian and was proclaimed The Hero of Kvatch… he felt nothing. Nothing. Only sadness, anger and pain because they couldn’t save more lives. In the end only Savlian Matius, Berich Inian, Tierra, civilians and he remained. All the others – dead. He took Savlian’s Kvatch cuirass but was already decided what he will do with it.

…Loypuur dimly remembered what happened after that. He was still shocked because of the whole situation and he remembered that he left Kvatch. He met a priest on the road down, who was talking about numerous portals and something about a balance being disrupted but Loypuur couldn’t listen to him. He was very tired and didn’t know when he slept for the last time - probably in Anvil on the day when he departed for the Imperial City. Well, he didn’t make it very far and he definitely didn’t expect his journey to the capital begin like it had. He managed to get to the Gottshaw inn and fell asleep immediately.

…

"Yes, that’s how it happened" said Loypuur as he finally managed to recollect his thoughts. He still couldn’t remember what he old man said to him and he still didn’t know where he saw the amulet before. Anvil was already seen in the distance. Loypuur checked the Kvatch cuirass and found out that it’s enchanted. ‘I will put it to good use… then I’ll return to Kvatch’ thought young High Elf as he was approaching the town.

Sun was shining high in the sky as The Hero of Kvatch arrived to Anvil.

“Good day, Norbert” Loypuur greeted Norbert Lelles as he entered the store.
“Seeing you just makes me feel again safer.”
“I need you to give me the best price for this cuirass, Norbert. It carries an emblem of Kvatch and is enchanted.”
“Let me see… hmmm.. a rare one indeed considering that most of other cuirasses I’ve ran across are non-enchanted. Let me take a closer look and I will give you a fair price.”
“Good... Have you heard any rumors about Kvatch perhaps.”
“I've heard Carahil is a powerful illusionist. No wonder she's the ranking mage here in Anvil."
“I see” said Loypuur but thought: ‘That’s what I call a straight answer. People in Anvil are obviously oblivious of the Oblivion gate and the demise of Kvatch.’
“254.”
“Let’s make it 273.”
“I can’t afford to do that.”
“266.”
“A fine bargain. Thank you. Please, come again.”
With 266 septims more in his pocket Loypuur headed to the chapel.

…

“Good day, Trevaia. I’d like you to learn me one of your spells… I forgot its name but it’s the one that’ll enable me to heal others.”
“You probably mean Convalescence then?”
“Yes, that one. Heard any rumors about Kvatch perhaps?”
“I swear that when I passed the Benirus manor last night, I heard someone scream inside. Velwyn Benirus will never sell that deathtrap.”
“Good to know.” ‘What that does have to do with Kvatch?’ thought High Elf.
After Trevaia taught Loypuur how to cast the Convalescence spell, Loypuur left Anvil, ready to heal the survivors at Kvatch. ‘I made a good decision by selling that cuirass, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to afford the spell.’

Since Loypuur didn’t want to lose any more time, he ‘borrowed’ nice and hardy chestnut horse from The Brina Cross Inn stables. ‘I’ll return you here soon, I promise’ he said to the horse as they were riding towards Kvatch. He kept his word and after he had arrived to Kvatch main gate, he let the horse go and it obviously knew where it has to go. ‘Smart animal.’

Heavy rain put the fire out and the refugees moved inside the town walls and made two camps inside. In first one there were Berich Inian and Tierra, taking care of any unwanted visitors while in second one were the civilians and captain Savlian Matius.

Loypuur’s newly learnt spell did a lot of good… he healed Tierra as she was sleeping, then Berich Inian, Savlian Matius and finally some civilians that were in a need of healing. Luckily, there was a healer among survivors, a Redguard Oleta and she already did a good job with healing the wounded.

Loypuur was almost out of his magicka when he was done with healing but he felt good because he knew that he had done something good. As the sun began to set, he made a short walk through the sad town… burnt trees, destroyed homes, ruined chapel, ragged emblems, demolished statues… Loypuur had never seen such a disaster. He tried to imagine the feelings and distress of the survivors but he couldn’t… he had never experienced anything similar before.

‘But what was the motive for this attack? Did they just want to demolish the entire town for the sake of doing it? How did the gate even appear in front of the town? And who opened it? Was it really Lord Dagon himself as that old priest with a torch claims? Can this happen to other towns as well? So many questions, so little answers… actually… none answer.’

But Loypuur had to admit that while people were desperate of their destiny, most of them were already thinking about rebuilding Kvatch. ‘From what I understand, it already happened before when someone called Camoran Usurper destroyed the town. Perhaps they’ll manage to rebuild it. It’s a good thing that we, High Elves, live a long life. I’d really like to see this town in its glory again.’

Optimistic about the future of Kvatch, Loypuur left the town and headed east, following the black walls of Kvatch and walking under the burnt trees, each of them a memory to the tragedy that occurred here. Not long after he spotted a farm in the valley below.

‘By Mara, a farm! Were the residents victims of the Daedra as well? I better check it out!’
He hurried to a farm and while approaching the house, he noticed something big and brown moving in the tall grass not far away. ‘Must be Daedra’ thought Loypuur as he readied his axe and ran to the unknown creature. As it turned out, it was not Daedra but an angry minotaur with a steel war-hammer and he managed to hit Loypuur a few times before the High Elf killed him. Even more afraid for the residents of the farm, Loypuur hurried inside the house, only to find it… abandoned.

‘From what it looks like there hasn’t been anyone inside for a few days. Perhaps they fled after what happened to Kvatch or were inside the town when the attack occurred.’ But the thorough search of the farm yielded something else… Loypuur found a note in which someone named Slythe claimed that he knew what had been responsible for the tragedy at Kvatch. Slythe wrote about something called The Sunken One that apparently lives in a nearby cave. He also wrote about some offering that must be made for the tragedy not to repeat!

Loypuur couldn’t make much sense out of Slythe’s note but he decided to check the cave out. Unfortunately a fight with the minotaur left him a few new bruises and scars and he was tired from the hard day so he was in no shape to venture into the cave now. ‘I don’t want to run into The Sunken One unprepared, whatever that is. I need a rest, just a little rest. Few hours and then I’ll be ready.’

This time young High Elf overestimated his abilities … as soon as he lied to a soft bed, his strain took over and he instantly fell asleep… for much longer then he had planned to.

I love how Loypuur went back to heal the folks in Kvatch. He has been through a lot in just a short time in Cyrodiil. It sounds like he deserves the hero title that people have given him.

This is excellent! You are a very good writer! Not caught up yet, but am loving every bit of it so far! Really like your character, great personality!

Thank you, Grits and mALX, for positive and encouraging comments.

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As he was making way through the Sandstone cave, Loypuur wondered what could The Sunken One be… ‘It sounds like some beast that has been living deep underground for centuries… perhaps I’m wrong but it doesn’t seem very likely that it would be responsible for what happened at Kvatch. I hope I’ll be able to defeat if I have to face it.’

The only inhabitants were wolves and imps and Loypuur had standard techniques of killing them. He waited for the wolves to come close and then he powerfully hit them, usually one hit was enough. With imps he waited until they ran out of fire and then repeated the procedure as with wolves. He was unharmed when he found a corpse of Slythe and a sack beside his corpse.

‘Sadly he’s dead, just as I thought. Seems for a few days… what do we have here in this sack? Hmm… few pearls, nuggets and some gold. I guess that’s an offering. And what’s that… seems like remains of Slythe’s journal.’

As Loypuur finished reading Slythe’s journal, he wondered where was the creature so far? Apparently it killed Slythe but Loypuur hasn’t encountered it yet. ‘Did it leave the cave?’ But as the turned around, he immediately noticed The Sunken One. Gigantic creature from numerous stones, some fixed and some floating around it. Loypuur recognized it immediately…

‘The Storm Atronach… I’ve seen some of them before in Summerset Isles… but I’ve never faced one. It hasn’t spotted me yet. Time to attack!' For some reason Loypuur shouted "For Kvatch!" as he attacked The Sunken One. It gave him some inner strength as he dealt a powerful blow to the Storm Atronach. The stones around it began to spin faster and Loypuur thought that it would explode! But he didn’t stop… he was dealing blow after blow and the stone beast was soon just a memory.

‘Huh… that was easier as I expected.’

After he gained some salts from its remains and made a last bow to Slythe, who died while performing a noble cause, Loypuur left the sad cave. He didn’t feel guilty for Slythe’s dead because from its journal it was clear that Slythe had been dead by the time Loypuur arrived to Kvatch. He doubted that The Sunken One was responsible for the Oblivion gate but it was a good riddance in either case.

…

With the intention to help survivors from Kvatch a little more, Loypuur decided to do some gardening. So he harvested some plants from Slythe’s farm, specifically potatoes, carrots, pumpkins, leeks and corns and using a small carriage he delivered them to Kvatch.

His act brought a smile and happiness to the people and Loypuur told them about the farm a little west of town where they could gather free plants. He didn’t go into details about Slythe’s death instead he told them that “Slythe Serengi was a noble man who died in a fight with a powerful Daedra.”

‘It would be a shame if the farm wasn’t used for its potential.’ Now he really felt like there’s nothing more he could do here. If he felt bad when being proclaimed The Hero of Kvatch, he now felt better because he knew that he had really done something good that may help the people in long term. Tired from the battle with The Sunken One and gardening, Loypuur decided to spend one more night at Slythe’s farm.

‘In the morning I’m continuing towards the Imperial City… I hope the rest of the journey will be less eventful. On the other hand, I’ve gained some experience and I won’t be a complete amateur by the time I reach the capital.’

Although he often remembered the events at Kvatch, he was slowly getting in a better mood. ‘If I could only find out who was the old man from my dream…’With these thoughts in mind, Loypuur fell asleep.

In the morning Loypuur decided to use the Sigil Stone from Oblivion on his tan linens. He wasn’t completely sure what will the effect of this strange artifact be but thanks to his basic comprehension of magic he deduced that the stone was capable of either dispelling on strike or absorbing a spell – he chose the latter on his linens and thus increased his spell absorption given to him by his birth-sign.

He spotted a patrol of Imperial soldiers on a road and joined them. ‘Funny, while I was in the portal fighting Daedra I didn’t think about fear… but now, on the road again, I feel uneasy again.’ The patrol was ambushed several times and while Loypuur tried to help, he soon realized that he would be just a nuisance because four soldiers were more than able to deal with any bandits.

When he noticed an ancient-looking white well a short distance away from the road, he separated from the soldiers and decided to investigate this unusual finding. He soon found out its purpose – when drawing a power from it, his lost magicka regenerated immediately and his magicka reservoir expanded. ‘Very useful for someone like me, born under The Atronach.’

As he returned to the road, he noticed the same patrol of soldiers but something was not in order… there were only three of them. ‘Where’s the fourth one?’ As he looked down the road, he saw two bodies on the ground – he ran there and found out what had happened with the fourth soldier. He was dead, still holding his silver sword in his hand. Beside him a dead bandit was lying, probably the one responsible for the killing. ‘If I only remembered before… I could heal the soldier and perhaps he wouldn’t be dead now… but what kind of soldiers are the remaining three? Won’t they even bury their comrade? Or at least move him away from the main road? Will they leave him to rot in the middle of the road? Legion is obviously a cruel one, not caring much about… I hear someone approaching!’

High Elf had barely enough time to turn around – an angry looking Khajiit was rushing to him, his iron war-hammer ready for a strike. Loypuur couldn’t block the first blow but he managed to evade the second one and finally blocked the third one while at the same time pulling his axe out. The bandit was already wounded as he died after a first strike. ‘Perhaps it was this Khajiit that killed the soldier… in any case, he was avenged. And if Legion doesn’t take care of their members, then I will.’

Loypuur looked for an appropriate flower nearby and although there were many, the most appropriate seemed alkanet. He carefully picked it and placed it beside the dead soldier. Then he moved his legs and arms closer to his body and placed the sword on the top of him so that the soldier was still holding it in his hand. After he prayed to Mara for his soul, he left the sad place.

Part 2: Parwen

Skingrad, Cyrodiil, 6th of Heartfire 3€433

“No, I’ve just recently arrived to Cyrodiil. I’ve only been to Anvil before… and Kvatch. A real tragedy what happened there but I guess you already know that, little one. Skingrad is much different than Anvil though… or perhaps everyone had a bad day today. First the rude Orc horse seller and her overpriced horses. She even called me poor because I wasn’t prepared to give her 1000 septims for a bay horse. I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to, having only 123 at the time. Then I was approached by a strange Wood Elf who wanted to meet me behind the chapel at midnight. When I asked him what was he talking about, he screamed at me and pretended that he doesn’t know me at all… the next person I came across was young Redguard and I friendly asked her about that Wood Elf. But she told me that she doesn’t trust me enough?! Funny, eh?

The next one I met was one of my race… he was going on and on about his sweetrolls and he didn’t trust me enough to talk about Wood Elf either! Unfortunately it seems that my charm more often works with men than with women… yes, don’t laugh, it’s true… and this man – Salmo at least told me that Wood Elf was a town eccentric. He gave me a reason good enough to stay away from him… honestly I don’t feel like meeting the Wood Elf behind the chapel at midnight. What if he fancies me?

As I kindly wanted to ask a nearby guard for some directions, he let me know immediately that he’ll inform the captain about a stranger in town. He also warned me to keep my weapons sheathed. I never had a feeling that I look dangerous and problematic… what do you think? Do I look like such? Huh… I asked him about the Wood Elf too and finally found out his name – Glarthir. The guard even called him ‘total nutcase’.
Well, then I headed to the Fighters guild. Well at the least the guild seemed in order. The whole building is much larger than the one in Anvil but there are less members and you seem to be more connected for that reason, if you know what I mean. But surprises never end. As I was having a meal, a bald Imperial approached, introduced himself as captain Dion and wanted to know why had I been curious about Glarthir? Obviously news in your town spread really fast. Well, I told him that he wanted to meet me behind the chapel and captain Dion advised me not to do that. I told him that it was not my intention but I had a feeling that he didn’t listen.

But then… then you came to my room… and I forgot about everything else. I forgot about the rude Orc, the crazy Wood Elf, the distrustful Redguard, the strict guard and the curious captain… I saw you and only you… Parwen!”

Loypuur finally finished his speech and he couldn’t believe that Parwen was in fact actually listening to him. ‘By Mara, I felt more nervous talking to her as I did when I was removing the Sigil Stone. Huh, what can one good-looking Wood Elf to do a young man’s heart? Her eyebrows, eyes and her smile! Coming to Skingrad was a wise thing to do!’

The young ‘couple’ was chatting for some time, sitting on a bench in the guild’s main hall. The news about Kvatch obviously reached Skingrad as Parwen knew of some ‘hero that went right into the gate and closed it’. Loypuur was in doubts whether he should tell her that it was him but he decided not to reveal himself. Later, Parwen went to do some more practicing and Loypuur went to one of the unoccupied rooms on the 2nd floor. ‘Parwen said she likes hunting – I’ll invite her to go goblin hunting with me tomorrow… hopefully she’ll agree!’

Loypuur didn’t sleep much, his mind occupied with the coming events. Parwen! Parwen! Parwen! All he could think about – Parwen! He woke up around 6 am and hurried to the chapel, determined to pray to Zenithar for a small boost of his luck. Because he will need a lot of luck today!

As he left the chapel, weather slowly turned foggy and soon it was so thick that one could barely see a meter away. But Loypuur didn’t care, he didn’t even notice the fog because of Parwen! He picked up some flowers from under the statue of a man on the horse and then decided to surprise Parwen… ‘I’ll buy her a present! She’ll definitely like it!’

Few minutes later as he was browsing the inventory of Gunder at Colovian Traders, he spotted something that should suit Parwen perfectly – a chainmail helmet! ‘That should do the trick… I noticed she likes to wear chainmail when practicing and she doesn’t have a helmet yet!’ With freshly picked flowers and new chainmail helmet he headed to the guild.

Parwen was practicing with her bow downstairs and Loypuur slowly walked behind her. He was watching her for some time as she was firing arrow after an arrow… ‘She fired an arrow at me as well but that one was invisible yet it struck my heart… ah, Parwen!’

He was trying to start the conversation but he was getting more and more nervous. ‘That’s much tougher than fighting the Daedra!’ He repeated his speech a thousand times in his head before yet he completely forgot it now.

“Good morning, Parwen!”
“It’s my pleasure. Please, continue.” ‘Her pleasure! Uh, we started well!’
“I… w-was wondering… if you would perhaps join me… in e-e-e?”
“Join you?” Parwen said with a surprised smile.
“Yes! That’s it! Join me.”
“Ummm… what do you mean, Loypuur? Join where?”
“Oh… how clumsy I am! I meant if you would join me for a goblin hunt! There are a lot of goblins around here, aren’t they? I thought… that we could perhaps go and do some hunting together.”
‘Okay, that was it! The hardest part is over! Will she accept? She’s smiling at me… why doesn’t she say anything? Oh by Zenithar, I forgot to give her the flowers and a helmet…’
“I really like you but I can’t do that now.” Having said that, Parwen turned around and continued practicing.

Loypuur felt like the time stopped and immediately got a lump in his throat. ‘That’s it then’ he thought. He was standing behind her for some time, looking at the flowers in his right hand and helmet in his left… then he silently turned around and left. He was greeted by fellow guild member Fadus but Loypuur ignored him… he wanted to go… suddenly Skingrad felt as unwelcoming to him as it did the first time. ‘I should stick to my first impression!’

He went upstairs, equipped his iron cuirass and new steel boots that he bought yesterday at Gunder’s, then packed his stuff and left the guild. He returned to Gunder’s, sold chainmail helmet and left Skingrad by northern gate.

‘Stupid fog… I can barely see what’s ahead of me… what was I even thinking back there? That she’ll go goblin hunting with a first stranger that came to the guild? I obviously didn’t think that much… by Zenithar, I must have looked clumsy there, I hope any other guild member didn’t hear me and my… attempt at making a love speech.’

He continued down the road, following signposts to the Imperial City… ‘In the end, that’s why I came to Cyrodiil. I should focus on Arena now!’ But his mood didn’t improve with time and neither did weather – Loypuur felt like current weather in Cyrodiil the best describes his current mood.

Apart from Khajiit highwayman whom was he forced to kill the rest of the journey was safe because an Imperial horseman far away in front of him was making a clear path… by slaying wolves, imps or even trolls. Loypuur preferred it that way – he wasn’t in a mood for fighting.

A little later he noticed a prominent tower sticking out of thick fog far away… he knew that must the legendary White Gold Tower, the central point of the capital of Cyrodiil – the Imperial City. He had heard from many adventurers in Summerset Isles that this tower is the most significant landmark of entire Cyrodiil and can be seen from almost anywhere… but now when he finally saw it, Loypuur didn’t feel anything special. He felt just like the fog surrounding him.

Late in the afternoon he arrived to a small village, obviously the suburb of the Imperial City. A village was called Weye and there were in fact only two houses – one was an inn and the second one was a farmhouse. Loypuur didn’t have any appetite but he decided to eat something nonetheless so he headed to the inn.

The innkeeper, a High Elf like him, was beautiful, definitely one of the most beautiful High Elves he had ever seen but Loypuur was not in a real mood to admire her after what happened to him in the morning. Still, a look at her made him at least partially ‘wake up’ from his sadness as he realized there are many women out there.

After a short meal Loypuur headed outside… the weather didn’t improve and all he could see was a long bridge ahead of him and the tall tower behind it.

‘Here am I now… I don’t know why but I imagined my arrival to the capital completely different. I imagined that I would be riding a white horse… yet I’m on foot. I imagined that I would have a lot of septims by now… yet I have only eight of them which means I can’t afford a room either. I imagined that… well, I just imagined that it would all be completely different… guess my father was correct when he told me I was a dreamer.’

He exhaled deeply, looked a little around himself and noticed a man approaching… ‘Probably the owner of that farmhouse.’

“You know, stranger, there comes a time in every man's life when he has to admit that he's lost the fight.”
‘Just a second… how does this man what happened to me this morning? Or what is he talking about?’
“Well, I've fought and I've lost.”
‘Oh, he’s talking about himself!’
“Who did I lose to? Who is my great enemy? Well, don't laugh... it's a bunch of damn fish.”
‘Fish? Did he say fish?’
Loypuur then said:” You know, stranger, I agree with you. I also lost a fight this very morning. Not with the fish, though… what have they done to you, anyway? Can I help, perhaps?”
"Go on and lau... Wait. Help? Oh. Well, then... I'm a fisherman. Or at least, I was. Until one of those slaughterfish damn near took my leg off. I was collecting their scales, see. I had a contract with this young alchemist. You wouldn't believe what he was paying for those scales! Then last month, one of the bastards got ahold of my leg. Took me right out of the business. But this alchemist, he needs the scales right away."
“I see… so… what about these scales?”
“The alchemist was paying so much for the scales that I'm close to having enough saved so that I can retire. But now, I can't get out there to the lake -- not with this leg. I only needed twelve more scales! Can you believe it? I was so close! I've picked up a few things in my travels. If you head out there and bring me back the twelve scales that I need, I can make it worth your time. Help an old fisherman out, won't you?”

Loypuur felt sorry for the old man, no matter how silly his troubles may sound, he could feel his distress. ‘This poor man was probably a hard-working fisherman for his entire life and how he can’t enjoy his well-deserved retirement because of the injury. I should help him, perhaps it will make me feel better.’
But then Loypuur remembered something… something that could also partially benefit him! As the fisherman was already walking away, Loypuur hurried to him.

“Alright, stranger… I will help you get those scales. But I also have one problem and… don’t laugh. I wanted to invite a cute Wood Elf this morning to go hunting with me… you know… just hunting. I bought her a nice chainmail helmet but in the end she rejected me… before I could even give her a helmet. The problem is that although I sold the helmet back, I’m low on septims. I don’t have enough to afford a room. I could go on and sell some of my stuff but… I don’t feel like doing it. And I was wondering… would you allow me to spend a night in your house? In return, I’ll get you twelve or even more scales in the morning.”

The fisherman was listening to him and didn’t laugh at Loypuur’s problems either. Then he gave him a warm smile and said:” You’re more than welcome, High Elf. I live alone but I have a spare bedroll if that’s alright with you? If you’ll really retrieve these scales for me, feel free to use my bedroll for tomorrow as well… or the night after tomorrow, he he he.” Loypuur was happy and he finally started to feel better. Even the weather was slowly improving.

“Thank you, stran… ah, let’s drop this ‘stranger’. I’m Loypuur. Pleased to meet you.”
“Aelwin Merowald,” said the fisherman with a smile. “Pleased to meet you too.”
They shook hands and Loypuur had a feeling that he had just gained a first real friend in Cyrodiil.

The Imperial City

The Imperial City, Cyrodiil, 8th of Heartfire 3€433

The fog seemed just a bad memory of bad day when Loypuur came out of Aelwin’s house, ready to do some fishing. He could clearly see the long bridge over Lake Rumare, white walls of the Imperial City and the White Gold tower in all its glory, almost touching the sky. ‘There will be plenty of time to admire it later’ thought Loypuur as he was walking towards the lake, wearing nothing but his loincloth and trusty silver axe. ‘Now let’s deal with these fishes!’

‘I have nothing against you but you’ll help an old man to retire’ he thought as he whacked the first fish but soon realized that he should be cautious when dealing with Rumare Slaughterfishes – they were quick and their sharp teeth could bite hard not to mention their scales were thick, making them not so easy to whack as Loypuur thought at first.

Still, he developed a technique which allowed him to easily gain twelve required scales… he attracted the attention of the fish and when it came closer, Loypuur began swimming around it in circles while whacking it at the same time. If he by chance got bit, he absorbed health from a fish, healing himself and usually ending fish’s life. After few hours he happily returned to Aelwin and presented him with twelve fresh slaughterfish scales.

Loypuur didn’t expect any reward, his greatest reward was already that Aelwin allowed him to stay in his shack but the fisherman insisted and rewarded High Elf with a nice golden ring. But its beauty was not important – important were two powerful effects, first one being the ability to breathe underwater and second one being improving wearer’s athletics. Loypuur put it in his pocket, convinced it will come handy when he’ll need to dive underwater or be just a little faster.

“Listen Aelwin… you mentioned that you have to bring those scales to some alchemist in town, right? Perhaps we could go together… I found a silver fork and knife in two of the fishes and I’d like to sell them but I’ve never been to the Imperial City so I have no idea where to go and who to talk to.”
“Sounds great, I was planning to invite you with me anyway. Let’s go then and let the old fisherman be your guide.” Loypuur decided to wear something more practical for the town and Aelwin gave him one of his shirts which he bought for himself a year ago but it was oversize and he didn’t have any use for it. Loypuur borrowed huntsman moccasins as well and promised to pay a dinner for both of them in an inn of Aelwin’s preference in return.
And so a rather unusual pair went to the capital…

“By the way, you are that hero from Kvatch, aren’t you? The one who went inside the portal and closed the gate.”
Loypuur was astonished :”W-w-…why yes I am! But how do you know that, Aelwin?”
“My friend, there are not many High Elves with short red hair walking around in an iron armor. Not to mention your shield with an emblem of Kvatch which I noticed immediately. My leg may be limp but my eyes are still good, he he he.”
“Now that’s surprising… I didn’t know that news spread so fast. Well, yes… that’s me but I hope I won’t be recognized by entire Cyrodiil now” said Loypuur and laughed.
“Better get used to it. News in Cyrodiil spread very fast and it’s probable that many people will recognize you. But why not? You did a good work there from what I hear and you should be proud of yourself!”
“Yes, yes, I know… it’s just that I’m not used to it yet. And don’t you find it funny, Aelwin? You were approached by mighty hero of Kvatch who closed the gate, saved the town, but didn’t have enough septims to rent a room? That’s a bit excessive, don’t you think?”
Two friends laughed and continued their way in a good mood.

“These here are Chestnut Handy Stables if you ever need a horse. But from what I hear, they don’t sell any lately. Something happened to the horses but I don’t know what exactly.”
“No worries, one of the first things I’ve realized about Cyrodiil was that horses are very expensive. I’ll probably be able to afford a house sooner.”
“True but these in the capital are cheap. Only 500 gold if I recall correctly. That is when they were still selling them.”
A friendly guard opened the great door of the town for them and they entered the capital.
“So I’m finally here… the Imperial City!” said Loypuur as he was admiring tall buildings and a statue of the dragon.
“It’s probably all new to you, yes… I’m so used and fed up with it that I’m grateful for every minute I pass outside. It’s too crowded and loud… nothing can compare with peace and silence at Lake Rumare, you’ll see. Anyway, this is Talos Plaza district or the district of the rich ones. There’s a hotel, dedicated to Tiber Septim and an inn, called The Foaming Flask. They have a good beer there and is foaming just as it says on a door-sign. Follow me, we’re going to the Market District but we have to pass through another district first.”

Aelwin proved to be a very good guide and Loypuur enjoyed listening to him. He didn’t make long speeches and was instead pointing out the basic things a stranger should know.
“Now we’re in Elven Gardens district though you won’t see any gardens here. This is one of the common districts. There are two feuding families but I guess that doesn’t interest you right now. There are also two inns, first one is The King and Queen Tavern but let the name not deceive you – this inn has one of the cheapest rooms in the town from what I hear and food is said to be very good. I don’t know much about the other inn… yes, this one… it’s owned by a man named Luther and he seems a little secretive. For some reason he’s always armed with a big war-hammer or axe and a rumor says that he used to be a Daedric worshipper. I don’t know whether that’s true or false but I’d suggest you go to King and Queen if you need to choose among these two. Or better yet.. come to my shack! He he he!”
“And now, my friend, we’re in… hey, where are you going?”
“Just a second, Aelwin, I noticed something!” Loypuur saw a large poster on a wall and he ran to it. It said ‘The Arena’ and there were four people pictured on it… a warrior with a sword, wizard, archer and man with an axe.
“That’s a poster for the Arena, friend,” said Aelwin.
“Yes… I know. Nice.”
“Nothing nice about it, believe me, Loypuur. People either pay to see other people getting killed or compete and get themselves killed. However you look at it… people get killed. Only idiots compete there.”

Loypuur decided not to tell Aelwin that it was because of the Arena he had arrived to the town. Aelwin seemed to have very harsh opinion about it and Loypuur didn’t know what would happen if he told him that he wants to fight in the Arena. Instead, they went on…

“I suggest you sell your silver stuff at Three Brothers, it’s just here behind the corner. The shop is owned by three Verus brothers and they’ll make you a fair price. Although I hear that some Wood Elf has the lowest prices… and nobody knows how he manages. But you better stay away from him.”
For the time being, Loypuur only wanted to sell his silver stuff, the price wasn’t so important. Tertullian Verus was friendly one and even before Loypuur could sell his stuff, he asked him for help regarding some other merchant in town.
“No, sorry, I’m just here to sell my stuff.”
“A pity. If you ever change my mind, come see me or Jensine. Now, what are you offering me, young man?”
Loypuur sold his silver knife, fork and a carafe which he found in a chest close to Lake Rumare. By the time he and Aelwin left the store, he had 25 gold in his pockets.

“Tertullian was definitely talking about that Wood Elf, you know. The one I told you about before. You are capable young man and if you managed to kill twelve Rumare Slaughterfishes, you should also be able to expose his scheme! I mean… from a customer’s perspective this Wood Elf is an ideal choice but…”
Loypuur heard Aelwin going on and on about Wood Elf but he wasn’t paying him much attention anymore, instead he was amazed by sheer size of the Imperial city market. He has never seen so many shops, placed literally one by one.
‘A Fighting chance’ – he’ll definitely have to check this place out.
‘Rindir’s staffs’ – he’s not much into staffs yet the name sounds interesting.
“… but Tertullian is my friend and I don’t like when someone…”
Aelwin was still talking and Loypuur occasionally nodded or said “Mhm” to show him that he’s listening while in fact he was watching a group of people chatting about Fighters Guild and some Fallen Rock contract.
“… if you ever change my mind, heed Tertullian’s advice, you’ll get good prices if you help to solve…”
Loypuur nodded but was in fact watching a beautiful dark-skinned Imperial with nicely combed hair. A Dark Elf in noble clothes passed by, greeted him and was immediately followed by an Argonian and Orc. Loypuur had never seen such a mixture of races in one place until now.

They stopped at The Main Ingredient where Aelwin gave twelve scales to the young alchemist and in return he could collect his gold the next week. It was around 3 pm when they entered The Merchants Inn and Loypuur bought some beef and cheese for both of them.
“Listen Aelwin… how about we go to see the Arena… just for fun? I heard so many about this place and I’m curious how does it look like?”
“Well, we can go, if you want but there’s not much to see except people getting killed and greedy people betting on their deaths. But we can go, sure. It’s just a district away.”

Half an hour later they stepped through large wooden gates and Loypuur saw it… the Arena… his reason to leave Summerset Isles… his reason to prove himself as a warrior… suddenly he felt his arms and legs shaking but not because he saw the Arena but because he remembered his father and how much he hated Loypuur’s desires to become a warrior. He remembered his past…

…

“That’s enough, Loypuur! I will listen no more! I will never allow such nonsense! Can you imagine what a shame you are to me… CAN YOU EVEN IMAGINE THAT? I take you to every meeting… I introduce you to the most powerful and influential mages of our race… AND YOU GO ON AND ON ABOUT THIS WARRIOR STUPIDITIY? You should talk to these mages, let them knew you, instead you hurry to the nearest guard and admire his sword and armor!? HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO ME? After all I’ve done for you… you are a disappointment, Loypuur, a real disappointment. Obviously not even the death of Master Khedira could stop you…
“It was not just death, father. It was a murder. And you murdered him. You are a murderer and you know that!”
Quarvinal stood up from his throne, narrowed his eyes and slightly opened his mouth… so that he showed his broken incisor teeth. ‘I angered him’ thought Loypuur. ‘Just what I wanted.’ But to Loypuur’s disappointment, his father sat back.
“You thought you’d anger me, Loypuur? You thought you’d anger me enough to throw you out of home, right? No, Loypuur! No! You won’t succeed! I know what you want, I know exactly what you want… you want me to throw you out of my castle so that you could go and join these filthy warriors. But I won’t do that, Loypuur! Oh no! As long as I’m alive, you will be the ‘prisoner’ of your own home. Until you change your mind and start training as a mage! Perhaps then… perhaps then I’ll let you see some of the world but not before that. Forget about being the warrior, Loypuur! You are weak and useless, a shame to our powerful family. Look at your brothers and sisters… they are all doing what they should! None of them is complaining… but you… you are a mistake of the nature. My youngest son and such a weakling… I regret the day you were born!"

…

“Hey friend, wake up! Are you going to the Arena or not?” said Aelwin and clapped in front of Loypuur’s face, waking him from his past.
“Oh… what… yes, of course, let’s go. I remembered something unpleasant and got carried away. It happens to me sometimes.”

Two friends entered through strong iron door where a Wood Elf with very vivid orange hair was standing. He introduced himself as Hundolin and told them that if they want to sign on as a combatant, they should speak to someone named Owyn. But in case they want to bet on a match, they should talk to him!
Loypuur agreed to bet on a match but soon realized that he doesn’t have enough gold… a dinner at The Merchants Inn left him with 5 gold and he needed at least 25 to place a bet. “Some other time, then.” The Wood Elf was obviously displeased of the pair not betting on a match. “He probably thought we are beggars” said Loypuur to Aelwin as they left the Arena.
“That’s good, Loypuur. Believe me, you’re not missing anything down there. Or up there however you want it.”
“Mhm,” said Loypuur but he already knew that he will somehow get enough gold to bet on a match. Some other day, perhaps. As they were leaving the district, Loypuur looked back on more than one occasion, admiring the old building and the emblems. ‘It’s so inviting… much more than any magic school’ he thought as a guard closed large wooden door behind them.

…

Sun was setting as two friends were walking through the Talos Plaza District, heading back to Aelwin’s shack.
“Don’t bother asking, young one, you’re allowed to use my shack for this night and for another and for another… he he he” Aelwin told to surprised Loypuur.
“Thank you, Aelwin. But how did you know that I would ask you?”
“You see, my friend… you couldn’t bet in Arena since you had only 5 gold. Well, with 5 gold you can’t afford a room in the capital either, he he he.”
When they reached the Chestnut Handy Stables, Loypuur noticed a wayshrine in the distance and decided to pray a little.
“I’m tired, young one, my legs aren’t used to so much walking anymore. But I liked it, I really did. I’m heading home, you come whenever you want, don’t bother if you make some noise, I hear nothing when sleeping.”
“Alright. Thanks once again. I’m leaving tomorrow in the morning, I promise.”
“No need, no need. I’m not getting married anytime soon, he he he, so you may as well use that bedroll if you like. If it weren’t for you, I couldn’t retire. Many people say that Aelwin Merowald isn’t a kind man and perhaps I’m not either. But you were kind to poor Aelwin with a limp leg and he doesn’t forget that. No, he doesn’t forget that.”
“Ha ha... see you then, Aelwin” said Loypuur and headed towards the chapel as Aelwin continued down the bridge. The shrine was dedicated to Julianos and after a short prayer to the God of literature, Loypuur spent some time admiring beautiful sunset over Lake Rumare.

‘The Hero of Kvatch with 5 gold in his pockets! Funny but I like it that way. I prefer to start from… well… from nothing. I could take a lot of gold from my home before I departed but then I wouldn’t be any better than my father. I could even sell my enchanted linens or Jewel of Rumare but I don’t feel like doing it. Linens remind me of my first ever enchanted item and ring is more than just useful, it is also a reward from a friend. Only when you have nothing, you appreciate what you gain. Tomorrow is a big day then… I’m going to the Imperial City. At first I thought about searching for some gold in old fort close to The Wawnet Inn but it probably serves as a hideout to some bandits just like Fort Strand near Anvil… and I don’t want to do another manslaughter in the fort even if they are bandits. I’ll try to get some work in the town, perhaps I’ll follow Aelwin’s advice and talk to Tertullian about that shady merchant. But perhaps it wouldn’t be wise to meddle into affairs of the merchants, after all I’m a stranger in town. I could sign on as a combatant… but I don’t feel like doing it yet. Funny, back home I was craving to become a combatant in the Arena but now when I’m here and have a chance to do it… I feel like I’m postponing it. I don’t know why though. Ah, too many questions and plans. Time to go to sleep.’

What a fun day with Aelwin in the Imperial City. I’m nervous about Loypuur signing up at the Arena. I hope he goes in to watch a match first!

Caught up!... ...

I loved the way you handled the Kvatch stuff...We know he survived from the off, and because it was all memory stuff, you could jump through the various things that happen there...I loved that...

I miss Anvil already though... ...

He didn't have much fun in Skingrad, did he?... ...D'you know, I've never read the names of the people in Skingrad?... ...Other than the Mages Guild ones and Agnete the Pickled... ...

And so to Weye and I.C. I loved this whole section...Aelwin is such fun!...The tour around I.C. was excellently done!...Brilliant stuff...

I also love the way you make the first letter of the paragraph bold!... ...Really adds to the story...Brilliant idea... ...

Again, my compliments on your efforts towards doing this in English...Well done indeed!!..

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

A basket full of quests at Anvil, from rats to burglars to a buxom Nord whose mate ran off with a mace. . . . Then he returns briefly as Hero of Kvatch.

Skingrad. Ahhh, Parwen is a dear elf – Loypuur has excellent taste!

Finally, the big city! And the Altmer is wise enough to earn himself a guide. I’ll bet Loypuur got some practice with his nifty convalescence spell healing up the fisherman’s leg so the old fellow could get around town better. Uh oh. . . the Arena. Yikes!

Thanks for all your comments.

@Grits - unfortunately he didn't watch a match first as you'll see in the coming story, he rushed to The Arena immediately but there might be some surprised at the end of the day.

@McBadgere - Loypuur really didn't have a lot of fun in Skingrad and the fog worsened it even more. Of all towns in Cyrodiil residents of Skingrad are the most unfamilar to me as well, I discovered quite some 'new' on Loypuur's adventure.

@Acadian - yes, Parwen is quite outstanding. He indeed help Aelwin, seems I forgot to mention it before.

And now...the Arena!




In the morning Loypuur didn’t anymore think about talking to Tertullian about merchant problem, neither did he think about looting an old fort… instead he decided to join the Arena as a combatant! Thanks to Aelwin he got a basic idea of the town districts and this time, instead of going through Elven Gardens and Market District to the Arena, he headed through Green Emperor Way, partially because it was a shortcut to the Arena and partially to see White Gold Tower.

‘By Mara, how tall it is! It looks like it never ends.’ Loypuur found Green Emperor Way with numerous blossoming bushes and thick trees lovely and calm while graves and majestic tombs represented long past of the Empire. There was no guard outside the tower and Loypuur decided to peak in. He carefully opened large wooden gate with a symbol of the Empire and walked in. Inside complete silence prevailed. There were two guards in royal armor, each equipped with a silver bow and matching sword. ‘What a beautiful armor!’ He didn’t know whether it is allowed to be in the tower but he rather decided not to test the patience of the royal guards, so he went outside as silently as he entered.

‘So this is where the Emperor lived… wait!... Emperor? By Talos, I’m a slow one! The man from my dreams! Old man in noble clothes… it was the Emperor! And an amulet… the Amulet of Kings! I finally remembered… but why was I dreaming about the Emperor? It looked like he was trying to say something. I guess I was still under influence of events at Kvatch…’ thought Loypuur, finally satisfied because he solved his mysterious nightmare.

He slowly walked to the Arena and upon seeing it, he felt the same fear as yesterday. But this time it was not a fear of his father… this time it was a fear of… death. ‘Best fighters from all over Tamriel come and compete in the Arena… I’m far from a fighter and even farther from the best. I’m not sure I’m ready for this…’ Still, he felt a strange pull, like an invisible force was moving his legs forward and he couldn’t resist it. And just as yesterday the same Wood Elf was standing at the entrance.

“Good morning! Ehmm… I’d like to join as a combatant. W-where should I go?”
“Just down the stairs into Bloodworks and talk to Owyn the Blademaster,” answered Wood Elf.
“Thanks,” said Loypuur, inhaled deeply and went down the stairs.
‘What a cold place’ was Loypuur’s first thought as he descended down the stairs. ‘And very unwelcoming too… all I can hear are the sounds of swords clinking… be courageous now Loypuur. Look for Owyn.’ First fighter he came across was an Orc and a rather friendly one. Loypuur had no idea who he was but he had a very nicely designed armor. The Orc introduced himself as Agronak gro-Malog and told Loypuur a little about his nickname and some other events but High Elf didn’t really listen to him as he didn’t feel uncomfortable in the Bloodworks.

He went to the other room where a Dark Elf was punching a sack. He was friendly as the Orc and introduced himself as Ades Ulrani. He told Loypuur to stay away from the Battle Matron. ‘Must be that sharp-looking lady on my left.’ Ades told him a little about the history of the Arena, was very surprised when Loypuur hasn’t heard about Gaiden Shinji, the man who obviously constructed the Arena. After a brief conversation Loypuur noticed a man standing in the corner of the room… a middle-aged Redguard with reddish skin and tough look. ‘Must be Owyn.’

"I don't know who you are friend, but you've got about ten seconds to tell me what you're doing in my Bloodworks before I lop your arms off." With these ‘kind’ words Owyn greeted Loypuur as he approached.
“I want to become a combatant!”
“You… a combatant? Ha ha ha ha! Don’t make me laugh! My granny could beat you and she’s dead.”
“Talk all you want, but I’m serious” answered Loypuur, surprised at his own words.
“Alright, alright, you look serious indeed. So we got another suicidal idiot on board…”

Owyn’s attitude didn’t scare Loypuur away, in fact he expected to be greeted in such a manner. ‘I guess a High Elf is rarely seen competing in the Arena.’ Owyn gave Loypuur heavy raiment, explained him basic rules about the Arena and told him that he should speak to him whenever he’s ready for a match.
“I’m ready right now,” answered Loypuur but Owyn screamed at him because he forgot to equip his battle raiment! ‘This one is really short-tempered’ thought Loypuur as he was putting on his enchanted heavy battle raiment. It fit him perfectly yet he didn’t feel as agile as he did when wearing iron armor and tan linens. He put on his iron helmet, Jewel of the Rumare and then readied his silver axe and Kvatch shield.

‘That’s it … I came to where I wanted, I guess I should be happy. But in fact I’m not… I feel nervous, just nervous. In fact someone’s going to die in the next few minutes… either me or my opponent. It must be my opponent! Alright, let’s go…’

Encouraging himself as he was walking through the bloody room, Loypuur stepped through wooden gate and found himself in… the Arena. The fabulous Arena! He heard loud cheering from the tribune, spectators were already eagerly awaiting the coming battle… he remembered Aelwin’s words… that people either pay to see others getting killed or they kill themselves… He stopped and thought for a second… ‘There’s no way back now. I have to go further and… and… fight to death. 'Lady, lead me!’ Having said that, he casted Lady’s Warding upon himself, boosting his endurance. He slowly ascended the bloody stairs just in time to hear the strong voice announce the coming match between two Pit Dogs. Loypuur could see his opponent, standing opposite of him, closed behind strong iron bars just as him. ‘A woman… I’ll be fighting against a woman. This could make things harder for me… Block and fight as master Khedira taught you…’

When the bars moved down, the announcer almost roared and spectators on the tribunes stood up and began cheering … Loypuur pulled out his axe and did the same as his opponent… running through the center of the Arena! He could see his opponent now…’Judging by her moves must be a Wood Elf. They are quick and agile, I should be careful. I can do it, I can do it, I can do it. Now it begins… or ends!’

Loypuur raised his shield in front of him just in time to block the incoming attack. “Hiyaaaaaaaaaa!” shouted the Wood Elf and swung with her sword again, this time hitting Loypuur in the left arm.

‘What’s wrong with me??... I just can’t hit her back. She looks weak and would probably fall after the first strike… why did I come here, why did I come here?? But her eyes… her eyes are telling me that she’s exactly the opposite. Each my wound makes her happy, she enjoys the sight of my blood…’
Loypuur blocked an attack after attack while not dealing any blow in return. With time he began to dodge the attacks and Wood Elf missed on more than one occasion. But Loypuur could see from her eyes that she won’t stop until he’s dead.
‘Now that’s enough… I can’t stand here, hiding my face behind a shield, looking like a coward… I came to fight and I SHALL FIGHT!’

Encouraging himself, Loypuur jumped back, avoided the powerful blow and in next second swung his silver axe, powerfully hitting surprised Wood Elf in an arm, wounding her. She staggered, obviously surprised to receive a blow like this but she quickly returned it. Loypuur successfully blocked it and then hit her again… and again! And again! Wood Elf managed to strike him on occasion but soon it was clear to Loypuur that’s she’s about to fall… after one well-placed strike to her head, Wood Elf dropped her sword to the ground and a second later… lifelessly fell on the ground.

“WE HAVE A WINNERRRRRRRRRRRR!”

A roaring voice resounded over the entire Arena, people stood up, clapping and waving at Loypuur! He was standing above the corpse of his former opponent, holding his bloody axe in right hand and Kvatch shield in the left. ‘Fight to death…’ he thought as he bent over the corpse. ‘A young Wood Elf… about my age… why did she come to Arena? Did she also escape from her home, hoping to succeed in the Arena? Who knows… I’ll probably never know… I don’t even know her name.’
Loypuur sheathed his weapon and shield and put Wood Elf’s corpse in such a position that her head was turned towards the sunny skies. People at the Arena were getting quiet, obviously curious what was he doing. Then he took her sword and placed it in her right hand and a shield in her left hand.
“Rest in peace, warrior” he said aloud, enough to be heard on the tribune. After he bowed to the fallen opponent, spectators exploded… either his gesture touched them or had they simply not seen a combatant doing this before… they were waving, clapping and cheering as Loypuur left the Arena and returned to the Bloodworks.

He removed his helmet and refreshed in the Basin of Renewal, regenerating his lost magicka and healing his wounds which disappeared in a matter of seconds. ‘Strange… I don’t feel victorious at all. Not even tired as I expected. It’s just that once I began… I couldn’t stop. After first hit… I couldn’t stop. Is that good or bad? Hard to say… I should return to the Arena just to see… to see… if I can manage to do it again.’
And so it was – Owyn was surprised when High Elf told him that he’s ready for another battle.
“It’s your funeral so do as you like, pit dog!”

Loypuur already knew the way and this time he didn’t stop to stare at bloody walls. This time he knew what to expect. His 2nd opponent was an Imperial, wielding a sword and shield just like the late Wood Elf. Fight was short and less intense than the previous one, mostly because Loypuur didn’t hesitate this time. He blocked and attacked just as he was taught! On occasion Imperial dealt him a heavy blow which staggered him but a duel was over in a few minutes. ‘Another life taken… another son who won’t be returning home to greet his mother… or husband who will never greet his wife… Why did I participate in another fight? Now I don’t know… I feel more like a taker of lifes instead of a warrior…’
Just as before, Loypuur placed a sword and shield next to his opponent, bowed to him and left the Arena. After he collected his payment from Owyn, he removed his raiment, put on his cuirass and silently left the Arena.

Only when he came outside, he realized how starved he was. He remembered an inn called The Feed Bag in the Market District and that’s where he headed. ‘Funny… I pass all these strangers and they greet me… yet none of them knows that I’ve just cold-bloodedly killed two people in the Arena…’ As he was eating some fresh beef and drinking cold beer, he began to feel exhausted. ‘It’s no wonder, after two fierce battles…’ He wasn’t feeling well when he left The Feed Bag…

...it was in the afternoon when he entered The King and Queen Tavern.
‘Aelwin was right, rooms are really cheap and they’re clean and cozy’ thought Loypuur as he unlocked the door to his private room upstairs. He removed his cuirass and put on his shirt, sat on a wooden chair, crossed the arms on a table and leant his head on them.
‘I doubt my future is in the Arena… I expected something else… I expected that I would feel victorious after a fight, not like a scum… like a pit dog! The name is appropriate… we were like hungry dogs, trying to tear each other apart… what if my father was right? What if I was truly not born to be a warrior? Perhaps I admired warriors because there were so few around men and ‘being a warrior’s seemed so distant at that time… something unrealizable yet attractive… I took two lifes today… two lifes… although they would’ve gladly taken mine, it doesn’t make me feel any better…’

Exhausted from battling and sad, Loypuur went to bed early, hoping that he’ll feel better in the morning.

Gosh, more time must have passed than I realized! Sorry, Lopov, I'll be back to read as soon as I get another break to do it.

And Loypuur gets bloodied at the Arena but emerges with two victories! Loved the true characterizations of Owen and the voice of the announcer. So it seems the Arena just might not be our high elf’s mug of ale. ‘Tis certainly not a path that many survive.

*

Love the screenshots when you add them, especially that one of the gardener - great angle shot!

The bolded beginning letters of each paragraph was a bit distracting to me, immersion breaking. For people with attention deficit like me, it pulls the eye to the text instead of the content.

When your writing is as good as yours, you already have the showcase in place, don't need to play with the font that way - however this is your story, so you do it your way and I'll shut up! Lol.

I am still catching up, but wanted to tell you that I am loving this story! Your writing is EXCELLENT! Your character is very strong, this is a great read! Keep up the great work, I am catching up slowly <3

Loypuur's game got clobbered by CTDs and mod issues, that's why this just kinda ends.

Oh, thanks Renee. I thought he might have been killed in the Arena.

Hope you get your game working again, Lopov!