Yeah, there are some platinum-haired drow elds in Bruma. Why do u need a mod to make this "drow" ?

Cool, I'm glad you caught that, mirocu.

No Kahreem this week, sorry. Yeah I know, just when it was getting good. But please enjoy this bit of "filler" I wrote up ages ago. It portrays what one of mine is dealing with, now that the Oblivion Crisis has long been over.



9:15 am, Fredas, Frostfall 19, 4th Era 20

"Salute! Welcome! Please say your piece."

"Exactly my aim, as a matter of fact. I am wanting to 'say my piece', so here goes."

A small group has shown up for worship and meditation inside of Cheydinhal's Chapel of Arkay. The orc who initially spoke stands closer, a pale-skinned lady stands taller. A monk. An elf wearing shabby clothes. And of course, Renee's two companions: Tasha and Gabrielle. Tasha, a dark elf, had just been added to the group the previous day. Her specialty hinted towards shadows and stealth, but Tasha had also admitted she loved bashing enemies with blunt weapons. And indeed, she had been carrying a mace of silver when Renee Gade the third had met her in the Fighter's Guild.



Renee continues. "Around these walls, and you might never know this, because you townspeople never go outside, but outside there are all still sorts of menaces about. Goblins, outlaws, bandits, trolls ... the list goes on. The Oblivion Crisis may long be over, but another crisis still faces. My name is ... well, my given name is Lucitia, but you may come to know me eventually by another name, one much more familiar, and famous. But to my point."

Silence from the group. Multi-colored light filters in through stained glass.

"My aim is to eradicate those monsters and menaces, before you might even know they are there. And it's not just me, there are several of us out there, doing our duty trekking about, casting adventures, and keeping the lands and towns safe."

"Thank Akatosh the Oblivion Crisis is over!" cries the lady nearest Renee.

"Yes, thanks to events which happened some 20-odd years ago, we all are safe as long as we stay within these walls, this is true. But the work is never truly done. Trust that."

"A lot of good men died. But it could have been worse. A lot worse," says the elf wearing shabby clothes.

"Yes well, ahem. Just want you all to know that for every successful campaign I hold around your precious Cheydinhal, I will return to this altar," she says, patting her hand upon the main altar of Arkay, "to place an item of value, or interest, as a sort of tithe to the church. It is my way of giving back."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it is. Thank you all for your attention toward these matters. I shall return soon."

"It's so good to meet you!" says the lady with the pale skin.

"Go away fool!" says the orc.

[YAWN] yawns the mage wearing shabby clothes.

I decided to write about my new character in retrospective. I've never done it before and by doing it I assured that my character's not dead-is-dead. I know that entries may be too long for some, especially the first one is lengthy because it features an intro and the first entry. Thanks to everyone that's going to read it and I hope you enjoy it.

______________________________________________________


Urag gro-Shub, the librarian of the College of Winterhold, was grumbling as he often did - either with a reason either without one. It was Sundas and he had a lot of different books from all parts of Skyrim and beyond to check and sort. Most of material was brought to him by College students but some of them were so incompetent, that they often brought him badly damaged or worm-eaten books so Urag couldn’t make any use of them. “Like this one!” he said and lifted a thick book covered in weathered leather. “I can’t even read the title.” He took another look and managed to discern some words:



“Mem…res…probably memoires…of La…l Obe…n – I can’t get it, must be some name.” Urag almost threw the book on a pile with other damaged books but then he remembered something peculiar about the title.

“Wait!” he said aloud and took another good look at the book. “What if…what if Obe stands for Oberon? Hmmm…could it be? Could this piece be the long lost Oberon’s memoires?”

Urag carefully opened the book and to his pleasure contents of the book weren’t in such a bad condition as its cover. Some pages were missing, some were much damaged but most of it was readable. After he skimmed through first pages, Urag realized that he holds one of the most fabled books in his hands. “This is it! It must be it!” The old Orc took another good look at the cover – he knew a spell, capable of briefly restoring illegible words but Urag rarely used it because it required immense concentration and couldn’t be recast for a long time. But this time it was more than worth it – Urag focused his mind on the book, snapped his fingers two times and bright yellow light appeared right between them. He quickly pointed them at the title and though he anticipated what his eyes will see, he felt even more enthusiastic when the title indeed turned out to be:



Urag sat down, carefully opened the book and began reading…

I

My daughter says I should write a journal. My problem is that I'm not good at writing.

In fact, a journal isn’t a proper word because at the time of Oblivion Crisis I didn't keep any kind of journal. So memoires would be more appropriate. It's another chilly winter in Bruma so I might as well write a thing or two from the 3rd Era.
--
My name is Lariel Oberon but most people call me just Oberon. I don't like Lariel, it makes it sound like I'm a Bosmer but in fact I'm a Breton. In my thirties I was a prosperous agent in service of the High Court of High Rock, and my career was promising indeed. But too much of ale, fighting with guards, sleeping with wrong (and too many) women, a side business here and there, ... don't contribute well to a promising career of an agent.

At my best I had noble assignments such as spying on the Royal Court of Black Marsh but by the time of 3€433, I was nobody. The Nobody. I considered myself lucky if I even got a courier assignment from the Court of High Rock. I had an ale for breakfast, two for dinner and two more in evenings, I often slept on streets or in prison, and sometimes I wondered how by the Nine I am still alive. I didn't believe much in the Nine back then yet today I believe slightly more.

So, in the 3€433, it was Last Seed, I got some delivery job to perform in the Imperial City but I never got around to completing it. By the time our ship docked in the Waterfront, I was so drunk, so damn drunk that I couldn't walk straight but instead of throwing me in the lake to sober me up, kind legionnaires threw me in jail. I managed to hit one or two as they were dragging me there, but in return they hit me harder and I woke up much later in some forgotten cell, I had a hangover and my body was full of bruises, but the most horrible of all was some Dark Elf across the hall who was worse than the most rambling woman, he just wouldn’t shut up.

Then my life took a different course. The Emperor Uriel Septim himself marched into my cell. I've seen the man before, years ago back in High Rock when I was in charge of security measures on his visit and I wondered what he thought of me when he saw a scruffy agent barely standing up in front of him. Turns out there was more to it - the Emperor didn't just remember me from High Rock, he dreamed of me. And that's why, as I said earlier, my life took a different course.

I'm already getting slightly bored of this writing and I feel ready for another ale so I'll avoid mentioning events I find unimportant, like fighting goblins, rats and Mythic Dawn assassins - most of what transpired beneath the prison, is known by now, besides I already forgot some things. What matters is that the Emperor trusted me the most precious amulet there is, namely the Amulet of Kings and personally asked me to find his last son. What kind of man was I, if I wouldn’t fulfill the dying man's last wish? Another thing worth mentioning at this point is Baurus - the Emperor's bodyguard. Baurus who found it strange that the Emperor trusted some prisoner with the Amulet of Kings. Baurus who made sure to tell me that going to Chorrol is of the utmost importance. Baurus who should arrive in half an hour or so to visit us, he lives close, and we'll have ale or two together.

Back to the Third Era... I made it out of the sewers without troubles and of course I couldn't resist trying the Amulet on - it fell off in a second but one could never be too sure, perhaps the Emperor had another son.
That should count as my first writing - I know it's confusing just like my mind. I already decided to dedicate my next entry to wrist irons, or as I preferred to call them back then - "decorations". But now it's time for ale!

What a wonderfully clever and creative introduction of Oberon! Nice job and fun to read the reluctant writings of the ale-adled Breton.

Yeah, Acadian is right, this story is a goldmine, and a treasure trove of detail. The backwards-perspective especially grabs my attention immediately.

Merry Xmas, and happy Festivus for the rest of us.

Fredas, 2:35 am, First Seed 1, 3rd Era 434

Play Time: 200:57:48
Location: Jerall View Inn

Quest: Turning a Blind Eye




"I see you. Hello."

There's something about a good set of armor, even if it's just fur, the preference of outlaws. Kahreem of Weet knows for sure that he'll make a better impression if he's wearing his best. So the Grey Fox wants to meet him now? ... Not a problem. But he wants to look his best. Looking one's best increases one's confidence. And with increased confidence will come increased Septims. And that's what it's all about, right? Increasing one's confidence so one can increase his Septims.

Still, the Weet Bandit wishes he had his wine to glug down before this important moment. But he'd wasted it all a couple hours before, and Olav didn't have any more for sale. How can this be? How can a tavern run out of libations? The answer bursts a moment later. Well it's because the town's all full of drunks! The alcohol ships in on Morndas, but by Fredas it's all been all been guzzled, quaffed, and partaken of. ... and Skingrad, where all the wines (even the cheapest of wine) comes from, is a long way.

"The Grey Fox is waiting for you," says Helvius Cecia.

"Yes, and we can't keep him waiting now, can we?" Kahreem says, before ploughing into the man's cabin.


4:35 am
The smell of smoked ham near a roasting fire. Quaint surroundings, several pieces of dining ware and planters. Nothing to suggest one of the most notorious criminals in all Tamriel is right here in Bruma. How had the man made it here? Had he traveled in disguise the way Kahreem often does? Or is he always here? Living unobtrusively, right under the noses of the Imperial guards. Right under the nose of Countess Narina Carvain. Maybe the Grey Fox never leaves Bruma, just like Ongar the World-Weary never does. Maybe the Grey Fox is Ongar the World-Weary.

Time to find out.

Kahreem marches down those stairs. No, he traipses. No, he accelerates to day's end, hoping he doesn't stumble or falter. That would not make a good impression. Fokke. And not a drop of wine for this moment.

"Come. We must talk."



An Imperial male, wearing what looks to be cheap leather armor, but a magical headpiece with blue, runic lettering.




"So you're the Grey Fox?"

"I have need of your special gifts," the man starts. "There is an item, hidden away in a remote monastery. I need you to go get for me."

"Oh yes, gifts I do have," Kahreem boasts. Good. As long as Sir Fox has heard of Kahreem's accomplishments, not all of his (many) blunders, this is good. "And what would you like me to get?"

"The monastery is extensive, and well-guarded, so you should make sure to be well prepared. Should you succeed, I will pay you well for your--"

-- but for a moment, the Redguard's mind is blank. Pay me. The Grey Fox is going to pay ME.

"--Temple of Ancestor Moths. It is where retired, blind Moth priests go to wait out the rest of their days."

"Days. Moths. Sure." Gold

"I will mark the location on your map. Look for it in the far northeast of Cyrodiil, beyond Cheydinhal."

"Cheydinhal. Mark. Map." GOLD

"I need you to acquire Savilla's Stone. It is a large crystal with special properties that I need to gain ... advantage."

"Advantage. Savilla's Stone. Crystal." GOLD

"Remember, do not shed innocent blood. However, there is no bloodprice for slaying the stone's guardians, human or inhuman."

"Uh... Inhuman?"

"When I receive word that Savilla's Stone is missing, I will be here waiting for you."

"Sure. Waiting. For me. Well, I guess that about wraps it all up, doesn't it, huh huh huh" he says, feeling like the biggest dunce on Nirn. "Say, um. You sound Imperial. You sound familiar. You sound like a guard, matter of fact. Are you a guard? Have we met, peraaps?"

"I don't answer questions about myself," the Grey Fox explodes. "Particularly when they come from a Shadowfoot!"

"Hey hey, calm down. Your secret's safe with me, Lex. Hieronymus Lex, I presume? ... Come on, take off that mask. Take it off!"

But the Imperial does not divulge. And maybe it's a good thing, too. Maybe the man before him isn't Lex at all, or maybe he is. Only one way to find out.

"Shadow hide you."

Kahreem of Weet agrees.

@Acadian & Renee - thanks for your kind and encouraging words!

I've been waiting anxiously for the moment when Kahreem meets the Grey Fox. You wrote it very well, inserting funny words and lines on occasion, I especially liked the part when the Grey Fox is giving instructions but all Kahreem hears, is gold and more gold. If you liked the TG questline up to this point, then get ready, because the best is yet to come. Nice pic of the Grey Fox's mask, I already forgot that it has a runed inscription.

--

II

Known to break promises, I broke one as soon as I came out of the sewers. But at least I had a good reason. So instead of heading straight for Chorrol, I was busy with stealing diaries about carnivorous plants. The ghost of Uriel Septim was rolling his eyes as he saw me doing that but the reason behind it all were decorations on my hands, namely the wrist irons, a must-to-wear for every prisoner. Poetic. When they throw you in jail, you get irons on and you only get them off when you’re released. Officially. Since I walked out of the prison unofficially, nobody could take my irons off and I had to take care around guards, since they’d immediately know that I’m an escapee, gladly accuse me of breaking the law on their watch, wishing me best wishes of rotting in jail as they’d drag me there again. So irons had to be removed before I could begin my enlightened mission.

I was mostly a stranger in the Imperial City back then, I’ve only been there once when I was a boy, but some things don’t change with time and the Waterfront is one of such things. There nobody cared about my decorations but going to other districts would be calling for unwanted attention. The innkeeper of the Black Rook told me that I can get my irons removed by a certain individual, for a price of course, yet since I couldn’t afford paying it, I had to perform a service for this individual who turned out to be Armand Christophe. Armand temporarily casted illusive magic on my irons to make them disappear but in return I had to steal the diary of Amantius Allectus till sunrise. At that point I met Amusei and Methredhel, but unlike me, they had no wrist irons on, but were competing to join the T.G.

Methredhel was quicker than me – she knew where Allectus lived while I had to ask beggars to find his place. Ragbag Buntara was the one that pointed me in the right direction and with all the gold I gave to her, she hopefully git hasself a pay of shuzz by now! So - by the time I made my way inside Allectus’ house, I witnessed pretty Methredhel taking the diary out of the lectern. But agent Oberon doesn’t give up just like that – many hours later, while she was triumphantly sleeping in her shack on the Waterfront, I sneaked in, picked a lock on her chest (a chest as a box, not a chest as her bosom – an explanation for the slow ones out there) and took the diary. Once again Ragbag Buntara was the one who told me where Methredhel lives and she even had a knack of her sleeping habits. This also means I was poorer for five more septims.

The following night not only I had my wrist irons removed officially but I joined the T.G. as well. Armand didn’t really give me a choice, I was announced as a follower of the Grey Fox. While back then I didn’t intend to do any more business with them, Armand nonetheless gave me Ongar’s address in Bruma in case I ever felt in a mood to snatch some stuff.

Renee – Who knew? After all, could there possibly a better secret identity for the Fox than Hieronymus Lex? Simply brilliant!

Lopov - Clever ideas about the prison wrist irons. Glad to see Oberon free of his now.

R - So, Kahreem likes gold, eh? Surely, this is news to me



L - I´m glad I got the explanation there. Couldn´t really fathom the idea that 'chest' could mean 'container'...

I love this thread so much.

Renee, I didn’t know that Renee’s given name is Lucitia. That is awesome. What a meeting between Kahreem and the Grey Fox! His thoughts are so fun to read. This may be my favorite Weet Bandit update yet!

Lopov, I love what you’re doing with the book of Oberon’s memories. Having it turn up in Skyrim delivered to Urag by a student is pure genius. Great solution to the problem of his “decorations.”

@Acadian - Oberon's free of his wrists but he's going to keep them as a souvenir to remind him of his early days in Cyrodiil.

@mirocu - see, Oberon knew that it's better to explain things in advance.

@Grits - thank you! It's interesting to write about events which already transpired but I have to be careful sometimes, I don't want to influence his "game" too much.

--

III

If I were to mention everything that befell me, I could write one hundred entries that’d take place only in the Imperial City. I’ll leave that honor to a line of writers that write my biographies without my knowing. Don’t bother reading them since they’re full of lies. For instance, I never held the Emperor’s hand while he was dying. How could I if I had the amulet in one hand and the sword in another? And I never left the Imperial city riding a pearl white horse. How could I if the stablewoman ate all of them!

But it’s worth mentioning that after getting my irons removed I went to sleep at the “finest inn on the water in all of Cyrodiil”, the Bloated Float, and it actually took me to the open sea. Long story short and one bottle of ale less, a band of self-proclaimed good for nothing Blackwater brigands took over the ship, searching for some treasure that never existed; I killed all of them except their leader who surrendered. These events matter because as a reward I got petty 75 gold which didn’t matter, and the Blackwater Blade which belonged to the brigand leader and it matters since this blade was my primary weapon of choice for quite some time. Capable of absorbing fatigue from my enemies, they would pant during battles while I would feel fit as a runner. Certainly a most useful blade for an ale lover.

Another thing worth mentioning is the Foaming Flask and you’ll never see it mentioned in official biographies. As I was about to leave the town, I noticed a sign of this eponymous inn and felt invited. I ordered a foaming flask and got one. I drank it too, of course. This significant event unfortunately never made it to some book.

--

Urag turned the page but noticed that the next entry, labeled as IV, begins on the next page. "Oh, this one was short. A shame." Skimming through the next two entries the old Orc realized that they were much longer. "Ah, it'll be about Kvatch. Daedroth...interesting. And Martin's finally mentioned. I can't wait." Urag put the book down, it was enough for one day, and he didn't want to read it all too quickly. He remembered a rather famous painting of Oberon at the sea and assumed it must be about his adventures that took place on the Bloated Float. Having locked the book in a lectern, the old Orc casted a candlelight spell and descended the stairs leading to the basement, in search of the painting.

Thanks you all, and have some egg nog.

Grits: yes, RG3 was an orphan up in Skyrim, and was given some other name as a child. Her mother was RG2, one of my PS3 characters who died fighting Umaril. I had no idea what her real name is until the other day, when I thought of Xena, whose real name is Lucy Lawless. So yeah, Lucitia.

Lopov: See that's clever. The tales in other biographies tell of Oberon being this gallant knight who rides off on a white stallion, and holds the Emperor's hand, all this other BS. Meanwhile, none of it is true!

Well at least the tales don't say anything about him getting his friend to stab the emperor, or eating breakfast with him, or getting depressed and slumping on his chair & table, or any such nonsense. Right?

Ah yes, Snack Grabber, the horse-eating Orsimeri stable maid. Urag is such a neat NPC and a great choice to use as our 'facilitator'.

@Renee - regarding differences between official and unofficial, I'll tell you of one real event - there was a knight in Serbia and one day he fell from his horse during some battle and was gravely injured, he died in a matter of minutes. He was known to be a very vulgar person but nonetheless his official biography states that his final words were "Protect my Serbia, my brothers." but unofficial sources claim that he said sth like"Fokke that stupid horse!".

@Acadian - it's funny because by using Better Cities, stables of the IC are no longer empty, so I had to roleplay that the Orc ate all buyable horses but left the already owned ones alone.

--

IV

Jauffre said once that he didn’t think much of me when he saw me for the first time. I can’t blame him – my hair was bedraggled, I stank of Cyrodiilic brandy, naturally I had a hangover and on the top of it, I was an escaped prisoner claiming that the Emperor gave me the Amulet of Kings. Nonetheless, he believed my crazy story and trusted me enough to send me for Martin. I was afraid that he’ll give me some Blade as a companion to watch over me and shoot more than a mere glance each time I’d drink ale, but none of this happened. And better so, because I’m used to operating alone.

Sometimes I wonder how things would turn out if I didn’t leave the amulet at the Weynon Priory. This reckless action on my part was responsible for a chain of events which later followed, yet back then it was impossible to predict them. So after leaving the amulet in Jauffre’s hands, I helped myself to some arrows and a pair of leather boots from Jauffre’s supplies but the best reward was Brandy the horse which Prior Maborel gave me.

Brandy wasn’t his name but since he lacked one, I called him like that and he seemed to like it. And why not, it’s a good name; I bet he was the only horse named Brandy in entire Cyrodiil. As Brandy and I left the Priory, heading to Kvatch through the Colovian Highlands, I felt useful after a long time. As I wrote above, I was once a good agent before I gave in to drinking and got involved in some shady business, yet now a chance presented to restore my good name. To once again become someone - more than just a mere courier, as I was for the past few years.

Today I dare to say that I achieved at what aimed for.

Back to the 3rd Era – we went through the Colovian Highlands because Mythic Dawn definitely had its eyes on all main roads, so going through forest and plains was a better alternative. We arrived to Kvatch in only two days – the first night we stopped outside the Infested Mine which lived up to its name, since it was heavily infested with marauders. I rarely admit that some battle is tough but warlords of the Infested Mine made me sweat and bleed but in the end it was worth it because they packed some heavily enchanted sets of armor, which I later sold for a hefty sum of septims in Bruma. Poor Brandy could barely move, encumbered with heavy armor of all kinds.

The following night I was about to rent a room at the Gottshaw Inn. But as I went to the stables to take a bottle of brandy from Brandy’s saddlebag, I looked in the direction of Kvatch. At first everything seemed normal but then I noticed a burned tree. And another. And another. As I stepped on a rock to get a better view, I noticed that every single tree outside Kvatch’s walls is burned. Something was wrong. Such occurrence could be completely natural but I knew it wasn’t. Mehrunes Dagon, Jaws of Oblivion, Bastard son, Hurry to Kvatch – these and many other thoughts came to my mind as I announced a change of plan to Brandy and hastily rode east towards Kvatch.

I'm enjoying the reflections of Oberon as he (and Brandy) make their way to Kvatch. Excellent name for the horse!

He was a courier then? A courier who went wayward. I see now.

Yes, I'm really glad he didn't get stuck with some blades who'd shoot mere glances with their eyes, very true. Nice touch. It would suck for him to be around a bunch of teetotalers.

Oberon was Courier Six!

@Acadian - Brandy stands short for Cyrodiilic Brandy. I essentialized him to make sure it doesn't perish too soon.

@Renee - he was a successful agent at first but his career suffered a downfall and he became some sort of courier.

@SubRosa -

--

V

I wouldn’t need to write that Kvatch was a massacre, every book that mentions the battle, states it like one hundred times. But I need to write down that for years rumors have been circulating about people that apparently participated in the battle for Kvatch and survived it. It’s all lies.

I write it here and now, and Martin in the sky is my witness, that only Savlian Matius and I were the only survivors of the battle. Every other Kvatch guard died, as died all soldiers of an Imperial patrol that came to help. If I meet anyone claiming that he fought in Kvatch and survived, I’ll personally break his nose and cut his lying tongue in half in Savlian’s and my name. Then I’ll go to jail to serve my time.

I don’t brag when I say that I did most of the “work” in the battle. Savlian was a decent fighter but a clannfear knocked him unconscious and I was the only one still standing. I wasn’t sure whether I will make it out of Kvatch alive. Even before, in the plane of Oblivion I had a battle with a hungry Daedroth that wanted to eat me and for a second I already saw my corpse eternally rotting in Dagon's realm.

For years I’ve been asked stupid questions about what was I thinking, when I stepped in the plane of Oblivion for the first time. I don’t mean to disappoint but I didn’t admire its dark towers, pools of lava or reddish flora, I was busy saving my own life from the afore-mentioned Daedroth and I could rely only on myself and my Blackwater Blade. My only thoughts afterwards were that there was a lot of red color in the realm.

At that point the battle against Daedra became personal for me. Determining an enemy helps me focus on my goal and I declared Mehrunes Dagon as my enemy - I felt that with every fallen Daedra I hurt his essence. I knew it wasn’t true but it helped me fighting on. Later, when I found out that it was Mankar Camoran who helped Dagon in opening the gates, he became my marked-for-death enemy.

The battle inside the Daedric realm and consequently in Kvatch is one of my longer periods of life without tasting a drop of alcohol. I’m not sure exactly but the overall battle lasted about two days and I didn’t sleep for a minute in between. Even when it was all over, it didn’t feel safe staying around Kvatch. Fortunately Martin was a clever one, of course I had to convince him to follow me but my friend soon realized that he’s still endangered.

Both of us on Brandy’s back, we left the smoldering town behind and headed back to Jauffre.

Wonderful account of Oberon's critical role at Kvatch as he helps both the courageous Savlian Matius and Brother Martin.

Savlian Matius. When it comes to a noble and selfless hero, he is the gritty real deal.

Fantastic recollections there. Indeed, all the rumors are false. Let Oberon shed the light!

Thank you!

@Acadian - I expected your comment regarding Savlian, since we know that he holds a special place in Buffy's heart.

@Renee - as much as Oberon likes to brag, he actually was the only person that saved Kvatch. In my previous playthroughs more soldiers usually survived but Francesco's mod introduced some high-leveled creatures like grown-up clannfears and scamps (not stunted but bigger ones), and soldiers weren't leveled enough to match them.

--

VI

Hail Martin Septim!

I remember these words as if I heard them yesterday. Unquestioning loyalty and respect with which the Blades greeted Martin was truly something to admire. Jauffre didn’t need to ask me twice to join the Blades – though I pretended to be apathetic about it, I immediately accepted the invitation. It’s a dream of every agent to join a prominent order as the Blades.

I hope you’re at least partially informed about events during the Oblivion Crisis because I won’t write in details about well-known facts like that the Amulet of Kings was stolen from the Weynon Priory, and that Jauffre and me escorted Martin to the Cloud Ruler Temple, the fortress of the Blades in Cyrodiil. Jauffre sent a few messengers to various towns to gain information about mysterious assassins, back then we still didn’t know that they’re called the Mythic Dawn, and during that time I had a chance to get back in shape. I only admitted it to Martin back then but my grand ego was deeply hurt during the battle of Kvatch when I realized that years of merrily drinking had its consequences and I was no longer as skilled in combat as I thought.

An Akaviri katana, engraved with my own name, was given to me; a gift to every new Blade. I spent a lot of hours practicing with it, making a slow but steady progress. But then, as so many times before, I screwed it up.

It was supposed to be a pleasant trip to Bruma, just Brandy and me. I had a lot of expensive equipment to sell and I intended to have ale or two before heading back to the Temple. But in Olav’s Tap and Tack I met Alval Uvani and he hurled some insult at me – I don’t recall it in details anymore but I can go mad in a second if someone’s rude to me without any apparent reasons. I asked him whether his words were directed at me, and he warned me to back off before he gets nasty. However, I got nasty before him and punched him straight into his ashen nose, sending him flying backwards over a table. He got up surprisingly fast and returned a favor by striking me with flashing sparks. And then our fight was over because a guard came running to the inn.

Guess who was ordered to stop in the name of the Imperial Law? Correct, it was Oberon! Trying to explain to the guard, what it was all about was pointless, just like arguing with women – they always win. Uvani was deviously smiling as the guard was putting wrist irons on my hands but promised me that we will see each other again and there won’t be guards to help me. I returned the promise and as it happened, we had indeed met again. The Black Horse Courier made sure that entire Cyrodiil knew about my imprisonment – “The Hero of Kvatch arrested in Bruma!” A jailor even brought the special edition to my cell.

Upon release, Jauffre said that it never happened in the history of the Blades that some member, especially new one, was arrested because of a tavern fight. Still, there were more important things to be taken care of and meeting Baurus in the Imperial City was my new assignment. Supposedly he gained some new information regarding the Emperor’s assassins and I was sent down to assist him.

I don't know how anyone could possibly blame someone for punching Alval Ulvani! Oberon should have gotten a medal from the Blades for that instead of wrist irons!

And since I use a mod that increases bounties, Oberon had to spent ten days in prison for the assault. Another reason to hate Uvani more.

--

VII

If I (until now) underestimated the threat which Oblivion gates possibly presented to Cyrodiil, I was forced to change my mind when I stumbled upon not one, but two gates located east and west of Aleswell. Since I considered myself as the most capable man in Cyrodiil when it comes to closing the gates, I didn’t hesitate entering the Daedric realm. This was another chance to make a name for myself, to show the Blades that their newest member is more than a mere tavern brawler.

Closing these two was much easier than the one in Kvatch, not only was the realm “on the other side” smaller in size but there were less dangerous Daedra lurking around. I was richer for two sigil stones and some rather valuable Daedric equipment, but thanks to it I arrived to the Imperial City much later than planned. Once Baurus explained what my next assignment was, I understood why Jauffre sent Me to the Imperial City. While most Blades were primarily warriors, I was first an agent and then a warrior and finding out more about the Mythic Dawn required someone able to wield more than just a blade.

Jauffre’s trust was well placed and I successfully acquired all four books of the Mythic Dawn Commentaries and met their “Sponsor”, who turned out to be Mankar’s son Raven. Raven was in a possession of the fourth book and the only way to get it was to kill him. What is worth mentioning is that Raven in fact didn’t die at this point, since I later met him once again in Camoran’s Paradise, more alive than ever. Nonetheless, I took the final book from his corpse (or whatever it was) and now I had all clues to find out the location of Dagon’s shrine in Cyrodiil.

It was good seeing Baurus again, though we went on each other’s nerves in the prison, at least until the Emperor didn’t die, we now didn’t need to force ourselves to work together, it was a pleasure for both of us.

Another significant event worth writing down is that after Baurus and I parted ways and he headed back to Martin at the Cloud Ruler Temple, I made my way out of sewers through basement which turned out to belong to Dynari Amnis. While most residents would accuse me of trespassing, I was a welcome guest of Dynari since she belonged to the Thieves Guild as well and was obviously familiar with all members. So instead of yelling for guards she invited me to a dinner.

The dinner gave me new energy for my mission ahead and the very same day I left the Imperial City, heading for Lake Arrius, the location of Mythic Dawn cultists but the back of my mind was reserved for Dynari Amnis.

Oberon's moving right along! Two gates, four books and one case of Dynari infatuation (easy to understand).

I am finally reading your Oberon tales, so I write my analysis here. "analysis". Nice, so he joins the Blades. Cool. It's nice to see somebody sticking up for the Empire, and attempting to save Tamriel from Oblivion.

I like how he says "you probably know all this so I won't repeat it", as though he knows about the other references (other books and stories) that are out there. His world is firmly set in the reality which is .

Ha he keeps talking about his ego. He's sort of insecure, right? I bet Oberon has some Leo in his horoscope. :sorcerer: He's got a lot of pride and valiance.



Good one.

Whoa, is that the same Raven as your character from 3 years ago?

@Acadian - Oberon can't complain, not only was the woman whose house he trespassed in, beautiful but she belonged to the same guild as he.

@Renee - nope, that's not the same Raven, my Raven (Raimond Venderaux) left Cyrodiil after he saved Cyrodiil from Mannimarco but was expelled from the Mages Guild.

--

VIII

I met Mankar Camoran for the first time in caverns of Lake Arrius, at the shrine of Mehrunes Dagon. I was posing as a Mythic Dawn Initiate, standing only a few feet away from his altar. I saw him only for a few minutes, since his speech was about to end by the time I arrived but I noticed the Amulet of Kings on his neck. A stupid thought struck me at that moment: was Mankar the Emperor’s son as well? Of course he wasn’t but even today nobody can explain how he was able to wear the amulet.

I couldn’t even think about getting the amulet from him because he immediately left the shrine through some sort of teleportation magic (mark and recall perhaps?) and returned to his home, the Paradise. Then chaos ensued, thanks to me. I was supposed to kill Jeelius, the Argonian priest tied at Dagon’s altar, to officially become a member of the Mythic Dawn. Since I cut his ropes and freed him instead, we were immediately attacked by cultists led by Mankar’s daughter Ruma, another undying child of Mankar’s. She died on that day but in fact she didn’t, and just as her brother Raven, I later met her once again in the Paradise. Neither she nor Raven made it alive out of THAT battle.

Since retrieving the amulet was out of question, my best lead to follow was the Mysterium Xarxes, the book supposedly written by Dagon himself. I snatched it and together with Jeelius fought my way out of the caverns. There was a horde of cultists lurking down there but some of them were at least smart enough to avoid us while others fought to their death, hoping to live a better life in the afterlife without having the faintest idea that Mankar Camoran couldn’t care less about them. Once outside, we parted ways with Jeelius and though I immediately wanted to return to the Cloud Ruler Temple, I noticed another Oblivion Gate close to Cheydinhal. And I just couldn’t resist closing it.

Heh, I figure many a lorista has pondered how Mankar could wear the Amulet of Kings. Freeing Jeelius generates an exciting battle indeed. Glad they made it out okay.

Glad to hear that Oberon was able to save Jeelius from sacrifice and get them both out alive. Good observation about Mankar Camoran wearing the Amulet of Kings. I like that Oberon’s explanation is simply that some things are not known even to this day.

Thank you both!

I had to make Jeelius essential, else he wouldn't make it out alive. Francesco's mod levels up some enemies way above our levels and a lot of NPCs can't match them so it's possible that some Mythic Dawn Assassin would be low-leveled but another would be the highest possible. So if the game cheats by reviving Ruma and Raven Camoran, I cheated by essentializing Jeelius.

--

IX

By the time I arrived back to Bruma, I was becoming quite famous. Not only because I was the “man who was closing the gates to Oblivion” but because of a little trick which I often performed in shops.

Sigil stones from Oblivion were more than just core of the gates, each of them had magical effects confined within and enchanting any kind of equipment with them, whether a common ring or a valuable cuirass, was extremely easy, even for an enchanting idiot like myself. That’s what I did in front of various merchants – I’d buy some cheap item like a pair of doeskin shoes at Borba’s store in Cheydinhal and enchant it with magic from a sigil stone, making it possible to see better at night while wearing these shoes. Of course I sold these shoes for a good price back to Borba and she definitely sold them for an even better price to anyone willing to buy them.

Thus my fame made it to ears of countess Narina of Bruma, and she invited me to her castle. I’ve already been there before, as a prisoner yet now I was a guest of welcome. I left her waiting for a few days before answering the invitation, just to let her know that agent Oberon doesn’t indulge every whim of nobility. But it’s thanks to this particular visit that I acquired a home in Cyrodiil. Narina was a ruthless negotiator but so was I (or so I thought). She wanted me to acquire the Draconian Madstone, the fabled artifact of Akaviri origins, hidden in Fort Pale Pass, and in return she offered me another powerful Akaviri artifact. I gladly accepted her proposition but I wanted another reward. I wanted Her.

Not Narina of course. It was when I was escorting Martin to the Cloud Ruler Temple, that I saw Her for the first time. Standing proudly on the small slope roughly northeast of Bruma, covered in mist. I’m not writing about a woman, I’m writing about a spacious three-floored manor. It was in a perfect location – close to the city but not inside its walls. And it had a balcony with a view to kill for. When I saw Her for the first time, I knew that She’ll be mine someday. As residents of Bruma told me, this beauty was called Snowdrift Manor and it belonged to some wealthy alchemist who died years ago after mages from the Arcane University struck him down since he was levitating which of course wasn’t allowed.

Since then his manor remained vacant, firstly because it was very expensive and secondly, because it was believed that the ghost of the flying alchemist still lived inside. Narina seemed surprised at first but weighing her options, she realized that Bruma can benefit from my presence. Not only will she get her precious Draconian Madstone, but having a neighbor capable of closing Oblivion gates, was “healthy” for Bruma. We sealed the deal and in two days I returned with the madstone. Obviously all scouts and adventurers sent before me to find Pale Pass, were stupid, because finding it wasn’t difficult at all. As I handed the madstone to Narina, she gladly handed me back the Ring of the Vipereye and a key to my home in Cyrodiil – Snowdrift Manor.

Signing a few papers in the Castle Great Hall, on the 3rd of Frostfall 3€433 I officially became a resident of Cyrodiil, a citizen of Bruma, a lord of Snowdrift Manor.

Hee! When Oberon said he learned a trick with sigil stones, I had visions of him juggling three of them at a time in a tavern!

Woot! A new home. And not just any home but a Manor. And it never hurts to be in good with the local Count(ess).

Strange how Lothran has never seen that "Snowdrift Manor" before...

That's awesome when he becomes "famous". It is interesting how the gameworld reflects what is going on as the Oblivion Crisis ensues. My memory's pretty awful, but this is bringing back some thoughts about my Grey Wizard doing the same quests.

Edit: you got me with "her". Yea I totally thought Oberon hooks up with the Countess. Yes, levitating is illegal in your game. Heh heh..............


2:24 am, First Seed 3, 3rd Era 434

Days Passed: 189

Active Quests: 21
Quests Cmptd: 10

Skill Increases: 201
Novice: 12
Apprentice: 8
Journeyman: 1
Expert: 0
Master: 0

Bounty: 750
Gold: 224



The Redguard crouches, and stays crouched for a long time. Thoughts pass quickly at first. His heart races, and his mind dashes from one to the next. But over the course of an hour or so, everything slows down. He becomes relaxed. He eventually stands, looking around the cabin he'd dashed into. It is unoccupied, and made of good country stone. A fire roars. A loaf of bread sits on a nearby table, looking as though it's bored. Some cheese is also nearby. Both of these objects aren't bored for much longer. Bread and cheese, the dinner of prowlers.

It takes some time before the Redguard thinks enough time has passed. The man who'd been chasing him must be gone by now, and he's taken his horse with him. Fokke. The Redguard had needed that horse. The Redguard thinks maybe a trip to Cheydinhal might be in order, to ... uh ... 'procure' a new horse. Cheydinhal had the best blacks in Cyrodiil after all; none were faster, and only the Chestnuts were stronger. Something like that. Can we be honest? Kahreem doesn't want to brave the Jeralls without a horse.

"I'd better go outside. He must be long-gone by now."

And indeed he is. The guard who'd been chasing the Redguard has taken his horse, too. Fokke. The Redguard sees a figure in the distance though. Initially he thinks it's another guard, or one of those Imperial forester guys. He crouches down, hoping the figure doesn't see him, but it's too late. The figure draws his bow, aims, and shoots, but by the time he does, Kahreem is already moving, moving past the manor and cabin he'd found, way up here. He runs and runs, upward, unsure if he's being followed. Finally, he crouches behind a rock, and waits a minute or so. Maybe the man won't follow.

"I'm just warming up, you pathetic worm!"

Nope, she does. A female, not a male. As soon as he hears her voice, he stands up, and grabs his club, looking forward to a fight

"I curse you and your mother and your mother's mother, too! ... May your roots be cursed, cretin!"

"Huuugh!"

The fight lasts a small eternity. She puts away her bow and grabs a daggar, making the Redguard chuckle. Of course she's going to lose, and the Redguard lets her know this. As she lays dying a few minutes later, she makes one last effort to dislodge the Redguard with her feet, but that ain't happening, of course. It feels as if an entire week goes by, and the Redguard doesn't want to put his hands upon her until it's over. When it finally is, he loots her person, and it saddened to find she has no lockpicks.

"Hmph. How do you expect to break into a manor home without lockpicks? Well I was here first. I get the loot, then."





5:40 am
Ah, the manor house. Quite an unexpected find, up here upon the Jerall foothills. Does anybody live here? Time to find out.

It's got a Cheydinhal style to it. The Redguard stands outside for a few minutes, watching the stars fade into blue, the way he'd done many times with his bandit buddies of the past. And eagle cries out. The stars become harder to decipher from the blue blanket over his head. Finally they're gone. Time to go inside.

He curses himself then. It might have been better to go inside this place at night, rather than checking to see if that horse was gone. If anybody's living inside, surely they'll be awake by the time he gets inside. He could wait an entire day, of course. The cabin he'd found was empty, after all. But what if somebody came back? And what if it was a mean somebody?

"Well, I'll go in the manor, but I'll run if whoever's inside is too tough. Because .. well, fokke."

7:21 am
He sneaks upon the place, preparing his lockpicks, but is surprised to find the door is unlocked.

"For the love of Azura, can't a man get a little privacy?" asks an orc, a well-dressed orc. Definitely not any sort threat to the Redguard. But why fight the man? He wasn't being attacked, after all.

"Apologies, orc. My name's Owyn. I'm a little lost. My .. ahh .... was tracking some deer, yeah. Lost my horse, lost my gear, and now I'm here."

"Go on."

"You haven't seen my horse now, have you? Was a bay, it was."

"I'm not listening to you. It's because I don't like you." *

"Oh, but you'll be sure to like me. I'm a hunter, as you can see. A hunter / supplier. Best meats, free and unspoiled, if you'll choose to start liking me."

"You're a big, fat liar!"

"Fat? You think I'm fat?"

"You can't scare me."

It takes several minutes, but slowly the orc warms to Owyn the hunter, and all his waffling banter. Which is good, because the Redguard needs an ally, up here above Cheydinhal. Two allies. The Redguard meets the orc's wife next, who also greets him coldly.

"I'M WAITING."

"I can provide some coin, if you'll allow me to stay in your cabin. It's unoccupied, and I need a place to ... uh ... tan my meats. Smoke and salt them. I'm a hunter, you know." Tan my meats?

"Oh, that's just the thing!" she answers. And it is. though Kahreem's manpurse falls 41 gold shorter, it'll be good to have a place to stay, for the next phase of his plan to attack the Jerall Mountains. But first, a horse. As he begins his descent toward Cheydinhal ... surprise! He finds somebody he did not expect.

It was hidden by all the snow drifted up around it...

At first I thought that this is some insult which I've never heard before but when I read the part about cursing roots, I remembered where it's from.

I've heard that line "I'm not listening to you, it's because I don't like you" before but only in NPC-NPC conversations.

I think that the Orcish Lord talks normally outside of the related quest, that's why he didn't say anything funny.

Nice story and what a conclusion - his hooved beast is back!

@Renee - I have heard Ongar say that line many times. For some reason he´s grown grudges against some people at Olav´s.

@Acadian - most of the time Oberon's at least slightly intoxicated so chances are that juggling with sigil stones would end up with stones falling on his head.

@mirocu - "It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

@Renee - Oberon's fame is growing up steadily but since I never increase his personality on leveling, he still gets a lot of ordinary comments.

--

X

Asked to find a Daedric artifact for Martin and too lazy to search for it somewhere far away, I traveled to the shrine of Namira, a distance east of Bruma, four bottles of the cheapest possible wine merrily jangling on Brandy’s saddle. I didn’t believe it would actually work but the leading worshipper of Namira, some ugly Nord whose name I forgot, told me that to gain Namira’s attention, I needed to become loathsome.

I put on quite a show in front of the statue, I wasn’t just drinking wine, I was literally pouring it down my throat, spitting and cursing all along but I was used to cursing anyway so that didn’t really contribute to loathsomeness. As I was about to throw up, I heard a voice…at first I thought that I’m hearing voices just in my head but it was her disgusting Ladyship of Namira that found me attractive enough to address me.

It was hard to follow her – one half of my mind wanted to throw up, the other one tried to get the meaning behind her words but both halves became aware of the situation when Namira mentioned that I was supposed to kill some priests of Arkay, not by myself, but to cast some magic on them that’ll attract her smelly followers which will finish off the priests. And I asked myself – that’s what it was all about? I just got almost dead drunk, spilled wine over my hair and over my fine chainmail cuirass, I was about to throw up, only that some foul Goddess would ask me to get rid of priests of Arkay?!?!?!?!?!

No, my dearest statue, I disagree. I enjoy drinking, I’m vulgar, I enjoy a good tavern brawl, I like to spit and I like to curse even more, I don’t have problems with stealing, I’ve slept with too many married women BUT when it comes to murdering someone innocent, find someone else to do your dirty work. So I did the opposite – I rode quickly, still drunk of course, almost falling from Brandy’s back on more than one occasion, to the Ayleid Ruin where Namira’s followers were lurking, basking in their filth and misery.

At first I tried to warn the priests of the imminent danger but they were deaf for my words like most priests are. Since Namira could easily find another “hero” for this task even if I left the priests alive, there was only one thing I could do – a gruesome task but it had to be done. Do I need to write what happened? Probably not but I will do it for the sake of slow ones out there. I killed Namira’s worshippers. I wrote above that I don’t resort to murdering but I found it justified, not that I care too much about what others think. Of course by doing this, I lost every chance to acquire a Daedric artifact for Martin but I slept soundly, convincing myself that I saved a few priests of Arkay. It’s been a few years since these events and for the time being I haven’t faced Namira’s wrath yet.

Huzzah!

I love Oberon's recounting of Namira's quest! Yes indeed - after you get drunk how are you supposed to remember what she wanted you to do?

Oh well, he'll have to find another artifact I guess.

I think it´s safe to say Lothran would quite possibly have followed in Oberon´s footsteps, provided he was ugly enough to be addressed by the goddess

Ha ha ha I can just picture some drunk showing up, guzzling wine. It always cracks me up how Oberon feels he has to tell his version of events, because others have gotten it wrong. I bet these others have written up some glowing account of a hero at work, something like this, you know?

... and then we can look at it the other way too. Maybe Oberon is exaggerating his account of events.

Lopov, how fun that Oberon’s ‘magic trick’ with the sigil stones led to the Pale Pass experience. Oberon had me thinking about the wrong ‘Her’ for a moment! Congrats to the new Lord of Snowdrift Manor. Ugh, what an unpleasant experience with Namira. I like that Oberon recounts his acts and usual behavior without apology. As he said, he slept well that night, even though his final “Huzzah!” seemed a bit ironic.

Renee, “Bread and cheese, the dinner of prowlers” made me laugh and snort. How true! It’s no wonder that the lordly orc didn’t get into his convoluted talk with all of Kahreem’s banter confounding him.

Thanks all, it feels good getting positive comments from you guys.

As you probably noticed, I no longer post stories every two-three days, I think it's better to post them once per week, not only to allow everyone to catch up on the stories but also because I felt like I spammed them too quickly one after another. And also because my life is busier than it was in December so I have less free time.

XI

I may have disappointed Namira, but I enthralled another lady, the one much more to my liking – Azura. For liberating her worshippers she gave me her artifact, Azura’s Star. I could have returned to Martin and give him the Star but I found it too valuable and useful to be destroyed. My favorite sword at that time was Penance of Faithlessness which I took from some Dremora mage inside one of Aleswell Oblivion realms and this heavy beauty was capable of draining health and magicka of my targets. But it required souls to be at its best and I was never good at catching souls. That’s why Azura’s Star was valuable for someone like me – I no longer needed to search for empty gems because now I had a reusable one at my side. Nonetheless, I still had to learn a simple soul trapping spell and sometime later I “bought” one for a discount price at Edgar’s shop in the Imperial City. Some say that buying discount spells is a bad idea but I disagree. Now let’s get back to artifacts.

The one which I sacrificed was the Skull of Corruption, given to me by Vaermina. Unlike Namira, Vaermina didn’t order me to kill someone; instead I had to steal her Orb from some Altmer who stole the Orb from her. He was a prisoner of his own dreams, so all I had to do, was getting through his nightmarish tower and retrieve the Orb. I won’t write it in details but to get the picture - his tower was full of bloody halls, rotting corpses and smelly Daedra. I took Colla Gius to the tower after the Crisis was over and he made some impressive paintings, so if you’re curious to know how it looked like, take a look at these paintings or better yet, travel to the tower yourself – it’s located south of Vaermina’s shrine at Lake Poppad. Be prepared when you enter, because Daedra still call that place their home. I’d accompany you there myself but I’m busy fighting Thalmor idiots – it’s only a matter of time before they invade Cyrodiil and looks like they made it one of their top priorities to get rid of the Champion of Cyrodiil.

Back to the 3rd Era – after acquiring the Skull of Corruption, I summoned Mephala, just out of the curiosity, and also because it was good for my Ego– I was famous and I had a nightshade, which is exactly what Mephala required. As a matter of fact, I found several Daedric shrines before, but either I lacked required items to summon Daedric Princess, either I was nobody, and they weren’t interested in talking to some long-haired lowlife. Just like Namira, Mephala wanted me to kill some villagers for her own amusement. Once again I failed the Daedric Prince by warning entire Bleaker’s Way about Mephala’s plot. And just like in Namira’s case, I still patiently await her revenge, sitting at my desk in Snowdrift Manor, drinking ice-cold ale and writing the memories.

I forgot to write earlier that during my journey to Azura’s shrine I closed two or three Oblivion Gates that were making otherwise beautiful Jeralls painful to look at. And I also forgot to mention that after serving Azura I went to Cheydinhal but what was supposed to be a pleasant evening, turned into another trip inside the Oblivion, this time with a purpose to save Farwil Indarys, the son of Count Indarys of Cheydinhal. With the cub safe in his father’s loving embrace, I later easily received help from Count Indarys, when I had to acquire allies for Bruma.

It seems Oberon held about the same 'standards' as Buffy. No to Namira and Mephala. Yes to Azura and Vaermina. Hopefully, the Star will serve him well!

I like how he keeps talking about his ego, yet he sees himself as a "lowlife".

So, you've finally seen Bleaker's Way, eh? What did you think? I like how he warned them about Mephala too. Lariel is a bit of a rebel.

Is he going to actually do that? Get some allies for Bruma? ... I think my Grey Wizard kinda flaked on that part. He didn't go all over Cyrodiil. Maybe it's because I was gaming on PS3 back then, and I feared the dreaded A-bomb would strike if things took too long!

@Acadian - Azura's Star is most useful, especially since Oberon uses the Penance of Faithlessness, an enchanted Daedric sword which drains health and magicka. So filling the star with souls (mostly from Oblivion) makes sure that he doesn't run out of charges.

@Renee - it felt good visiting the Bleaker's Way for the first time. I liked it that all beds in the local inn were free. Not sure if Oberon will ever visit the place again but now I at least know how it looks like.

--

XII

I had my hands full of dealing with the Oblivion Crisis, so there wasn’t much time for enjoyment. Nonetheless, I still liked to drink ale or two on occasion and visit Dynari, whenever I was in the Imperial City.

Though I’ve been offered many fast horses, I preferred my old Cyrodiilic Brandy – he was slow but reliable and by now he was a master of killing Clannfears with his hoofs, a real hoofed beast, that's what he was. My cuirass was getting more protective with each Sigil Stone which offered magic resistance – piece by piece, I enchanted it all, making myself almost completely resistant to magic by the time I faced Mankar Camoran.

When first Oblivion gate opened outside Bruma, I led Captain Burd through Oblivion and back to teach him how to close the gate, in case more spawned around the town while I was away. By that time we already knew that the Great Gate will open outside Bruma at some point, so after I was sure that the town will be safe even if I’m not around, I was sent to secure allies for Bruma. The last thing which I wanted was for some Oblivion Gate to open at the top of my Snowdrift Manor!

Before I began my journey all across Cyrodiil, I retrieved armor of Tiber Septim (himself) from Sancre Tor. It was an interesting mission but I already thoroughly answered to all good and stupid questions in the book “Lifting the curse“, so I won’t repeat myself here. Just read that book if you’re so interested about what happened there.

The first town which agreed to help Bruma, was Chorrol, however its slightly senile Countess Arriana Valga was more interested in retrieving some dumb painting than in sending aid to the town in need. Nonetheless, when I closed the gate “threatening” to Chorrol, she agreed to send some men to help.

I briefly returned north to do some business as my alter ego, but afterwards I departed on a rather lengthy journey all across Cyrodiil.

--

“Now what is the alter ego supposed to mean?” Urag gro-Shub asked himself aloud.

“An alter ego is a projection…” a diligent young mage began his answer, hoping to impress the old Orc but Urag abruptly interrupted him. “I didn’t ask YOU!” he shouted at the mage, his deep voice echoing all over the College library.

“Oh…excuse me,” shyly said the student, then looked around himself if there were any other students around. “I thought…that you were asking me because you see…there’s nobody else in the library right now.”

“No, I did NOT ask you, and that’s all you need to know. I asked Oberon. Do you even know who he was?”

“Oh, I know,” said the student and nodded proudly. “He was the Champion of Cyrodiil, the one who defeated Mankar Camoran in his fortress Carac Agaialor in the so called Paradise. Despite everything what Thalmor are saying, they didn’t solve the crisis, they’re just...”

“Enough!” Urag nodded approvingly. “Perhaps there’s more to you than meets the eye. How about you do a little research, eh? Something like a homework?”

“Of course, I’d be honored.”

“Then you’ll help me decipher the meaning behind “Oberon’s alter ego”. I know there are several other books about him, though some are far from any truth, there might be a hint, or an even explanation somewhere. Fetch me any other books about the Champion of Cyrodiil you can find.”

“Alright…and where should I search for them?”

“WHERE? ANYWHERE! Go out there and explore! There are books scattered all over this province, be it Dwemer ruins, Falmer caves, abandoned forts. They’re everywhere!”

The student dutifully nodded and hastily left the library before another storm came from Urag’s mouth.

The old librarian closed the book and weighed it in his hands. “Hmm…what are you hiding from me, Lariel Oberon?”

This time there was no answer.

Awesome. Yes, I also wondered what he meant when he said "alter ego", that had me momentarily perplexed, and then Urag follows through with the same thoughts. Interesting.

It's really cool how Lariel's hooved beast is also helping along. I usually buff the stats of my hooved beasts by the way. I open the console to give them extra health, um ... I think it's setav health XXX. By default, they have somewhere around 250 hp, which doesn't seem enough to me since it's possible a humanoid can also have this much.

But as long as Lariel keeps his hooved beast from doing anything too risky, he should be okay, right?

Oh noes! Can't have a gate opening on top of Silverdrift Manor!

So Oberon and Brandy are off gathering allies. Neat.

I agree! I really liked this little 'pause' with Urag in another time and place.

Lopov, I think it was wise of Oberon to keep Azura’s artifact rather than offering it up to be destroyed. I’d much rather see anything of “Corruption” gone from the realm!

Oh my gosh, I love that Urag sent the Diligent Young Mage on a book quest!

Morndas, 2:34 pm, First Seed 4, 3rd Era 434

Play Time: 205:04:36

"What can this peaceful monk do for you, stranger?"

Kahreem of Weet smiles. "You can explain to me how you guys were able to see and kill two wolves, and ravage that imp, if you're supposed to be .. uh ... blind."

He had managed to find the Temple of the Ancestor Moth by luck. The hooved beast Kahreem had been traveling upon was quick up here in these Jeralls, but also noisy. It had attracted the attention of every menace within earshot. It was only after running around in circles for several hours that they'd managed to find the temple, and when they had, two white-robed priests had dropped whatever they were doing so they could help the Redguard who'd just shown up on his horse. The Redguard on the horse had *burst* upon their property, and since they were the only monks he'd seen, certainly these must be the ones he's to seeketh.

"I don't understand what you mean. We can see just fine."

"I see. Well my name is Rossgard. I'm a hunter. A hunter/trapper. Hunt by day, trap by night."

"Those who live by the commands of the Nine receive blessings of Strength when they visit the Wayshrines of Tiber Septim," says the moth priest.

"Excellent. You seem like a very pious man, are you not?"

"I'm Brother Hridi, and I'm a very pious man."

"Mm hmm. Can I ask you something? Would you like to buy some furs? I'm selling them half price during First Seed."

Brother Hridi stares at Rossgard the hunter/trapper, does not reply.

"No furs? Rabbits, rats, or raccoons? That's okay. Hey. You wouldn't happen to know anything about a certain stone. Savil-- Savala-- I forget its name. But in my gatherings this morning as a hunter/trapper awhile back, I heard rumor of some sort of magical stone up here, being looked over by some priests."

"I've never heard of it. Why do you ask?"

And there it is. The denial. Even a pious man like a priest was entitled to one. Nothing a little sweet talk and gold can't get around. "We serve the retired Moth Priests from the Imperial City. The work they do leads to progressive blindess." **

"I see. So you're not blind, as the rumors suggest, but some other priests around here happen to be."

"They live in utter darkness in the secret catacombs. Of course it doesn't affect them because they are blind."

"Darkness, eh?" Kahreem shudders. "Great."

"May you always wear soft silks," Brother Hridi dismisses.

"Yes..... sure. Because that's what hunter/trappers such as myself prefer to wear when we're not hunting or trapping. Well, let me have a look at your property here. Never know if there might be a good place to put down one of my traps. Excuse me."



Kahreem asks another nearby priest, but gets nowhere with his questionings. "Who is this Savilla? A former lover perhaas? I don't know anyone by that name." He also has no idea what Savilla's Stone is supposed to be. The priests have their own temple, of course, but the Redguard is dismayed to find it's locked with a three-tumbler. Fokke! .... There's no way he's going to pick its lock, now knowing that these monks are NOT blind.



But then, a third monk walks right out of the temple. This time, Kahreem spends some quality time with the man in deadly white robes. Boasting about all the furs he's sold, telling jokes, making up story after story.

"I doubt you really mean that."

But it works. For some reason, this monk, Brother Holger, offers up some information the others refused. "I really shouldn't be telling you this, but I know you are trustworthy."

"Yes, well of course I am. That rabbit was a giant, I tell you. Larger than any seen before. Size of a dog! ... And if I manage to trap it, you'll be able to tussle with a soiree of new, soft bedsheets."

"The blind moths in the catacombs guard the stone. It's said to have magical powers. Don't tell Hiridi I said anything. I could be banished for telling you."

"Pfft, banished. You? ... But you're such a pious nam. And uh you know, maybe I can have a look at these uh ... catacombs. Might be a great place to put down one of my indoor traps. You know .... for rats. Rats have nice fur, once you clean it up," Kahreem says, trying not to cringe.

"I can't reveal that. It would be far too dangerous. I don't know you that well."

But this is nothing another handful of gold can't take care of. Within no time, Brother Holger is smiling and confident. The priests up here were not exactly showered in gold. Rumors occasionally suggested that they lived in some sort of luxury, expensive windows and expensive carpets, and lots of gold. But these rumors were false.

"Okay, okay, I'll show you. But only because you are my dear friend. Follow me. Please be discreet. And don't bother the other monks."

"Of course not. And I'll make sure to lay my traps in strategic positions, by the way, lest one of those monks trips over one."

"May you always wear soft silks," answers Holger.

"Silk. That reminds me of the time me and my hunter friends saw this giant bear. Silkiest fur you ever saw, but its meat was rather tasty too..."

Hilarious, these have to be one of the funniest dialogues up to date in Kahreem's stories!

I laughed over all hunter- and silk-related comments.