Category Archives: Story Time

Warning: potential side quest spoilers ahead!

From Garn’s recollections:

A lucrative profession?

In the morning I made my goodbyes with the people of Aleswell and continued on my journey, heading north along the Silver Road and soon arriving at the city of Bruma. Embarrassed, I had wondered if the people of Bruma, specifically the guard, remembered me from the run in I had with a frost titan last time I was in the city. Thankfully no one seemed to recognize me or, if they did, they kept it to themselves.

I quickly sank into what was now becoming a routine of chatting with locals about rumors and other local going-ons, and casually mentioning that I was looking for work whenever possible. My main target was usually the local inns and bars as they were the easiest places to be social without drawing to much attention to myself – that, and the fact that drunk men often can’t hold their tongues is a useful bonus.

“Relax guys, I’m not dragging a vicious monster behind me this time.”

One rumor I was consistently hearing was that of some domestic trouble between an Imperial named Arnora Auria and her Nord boyfriend Jorundr. Apparently Jorundr had stolen a bunch of her gold and got himself arrested as a result. Not only was she out her fortune but her love was now imprisoned. While I wasn’t particularly impressed by this story I couldn’t help but feel that the very presence of it on so many people’s lips seemed to indicate that there was more going on. I paid Arnora a visit.

As I suspected Arnora seemed poised for someone to approach her about these rumors and quickly dispensed with several more details of the story. She claimed that her and Jorundr were both thieves and when there marks started getting larger and larger she wanted to get out of the arrangement, yet Jorundr intimidated and coerced her into sticking around. Apparently the pair had scored quite a haul of loot on the night that he was arrest. Arnora wants me to speak with him in jail and attempt to find out where he had hidden it as reparation for her treatment. She promised me a large cut of the value if I could help her recover the loot.

I was rather suspicious of Arnora and her motives but not only did I need money but I was here for adventure and it seemed that this task might lead to some. I visited Jorundr in the Bruma Castle Dungeon.

Jorundr was belligerent and refused to talk to me but while I was there I overheard some other prisoners discussing the slaying of a vampire by a professional vampire hunter that very night. Vampire hunting sounded both rewarding and incredibly exciting. I decided to pursue this rumor and see if I could introduce myself to this vampire hunter and possibly join him.

For the record to complete this quest involving Arnoa and Jorundr it seems I would have had to get myself sent to the Bruma jail the hard way. Unwilling to set Garn on a life of crime (yet) I abandoned the quest for now and moved on to the next one…

“Chupacabra!”

After canvassing the city I learned of the location of the slaying – a villager named Bradon Lirrian’s house. As I reached the scene I saw several guards mulling around the premises including a man who identified himself as Carius Runellius, the investigator. While at first he refused to discuss the killing after explaining to him while I was there he eased up a bit.

According to Carius several bodies with bite marks in their necks were found around the city recently. The city had just begun their investigation when a Dunmer vampire hunter called Raynil Dralas entered the city and found the vampire who turned out to be Bradon Lirrian. The guards investigated his claim and it seems the citizens had only seen Bradon out at night. Furthermore, a body was discovered in the basement of his house. As if that weren’t enough the Bruma guard had also verified Raynil’s good work with the city guard of Skingrad.

While the story seemed pretty straight forward I couldn’t help but notice the presence of a woman at the scene. When I asked about her Carius told me that she was Bradon’s wife, Erline, and that she was suffering from a severe level of shock, most likely from unknowingly living with a vampire for so long.

When I spoke with Erline she didn’t seem to be suffering from shock at all to me. In fact she seemed quite far from it. However, she was very insistent that her husband wasn’t a vampire and that he had, in fact, been murdered. She told me that her husband simply worked at night and that alone didn’t make him a vampire. Carius scoffed at her claims and told me I could take a look at the scene if I wished.

When I entered the house I immediately noticed that the scene before me conflicted with what I was told. Carius said that Raynil had claimed to have snuck into Bradon’s house and killed him while he slept during the day. However, it seemed pretty clear that there was a struggle and that Bradon hadn’t been sleeping when he was killed.

I decided to continue my search for Raynil though now with a different purpose in mind. I searched high and low but was unable to find any sign of a Dunmer matching his description. A few people told me they thought he might be staying at Olav’s Tap and Tack inn so I made that my final stop. Although there was no sign of Raynil the inn’s proprietor Olav spoke of his own suspicions regarding the vampire slaying and eventually confirmed that Raynil was staying there and volunteered the key to his room so that I could take a quick poke around while he was out.

“Hey, that’s not where books go!”

At first I found little of interest in Raynil’s room but soon I spotted an old, worn out looking book wedged carefully behind a dresser. The book spun a worse tale than I would have guessed.

The book was a journal belonging to a man named Gelebourne – the very name of the “vampire” who Raynil apparently slew in Skingrad. It seems that Gelebourne, Raynil, and Bradon were all part of an adventuring group known as “The Brotherhood” that plunder dungeons, ruins, and other dangerous sites for treasures.

It seems that one of the group’s greatest hauls was that of an Ayleid artifact that they suspected to be of such value that they didn’t immediately sell it. Instead the trio had a special chest made with three locks, with each man keeping a separate key for security. They hid the key in a cave near Bruma.

Now not only did I have my suspect but also my motive. Raynil obviously framed both Gelebourne and Raynil to get their keys and recover the treasure. I quickly snatched up the journal and brought it directly to Carius.

Carius was filled with sorrow about being partially responsible for the death of Bradon but that sorrow quickly turned into vengefulness and we hatched out a plan. Bradon knew of only one nearby cave the matched the description in the journal and suspected Raynil was probably there at this very moment. If the Bruma guard were to approach the cave Raynil would surely be warned of their approach and flee. Instead he suggested that the guard secure the city in case he attempted to return to his room at Olav’s and I go, alone, in their place. Fair enough.

I borrowed a steed from a guardsman and raced towards the cave. As I quietly approached I knew I had the right place as a few of the boards that had been placed over its entrance had been recently pried off. Once inside I could see Raynil preparing a camp. From the shadows I called out his name.

“He chose… poorly.”

Raynil drew his sword and spun around. He knew who I was – he had caught on to my investigations and was planning on hiding out there in the cave until morning broke, or even longer if need be. He also knew how I had found him and cursed himself for not destroying Gelebourne’s journal once he acquired it. I suggested Raynil turn himself into the authorities but instead he seemed to think that my involvement would only delay his plans long enough for him to dispatch me.

Raynil was an excellent swordsman and had quality equipment as well. Still, after a lengthy exchange he lay dead on the cave floor. I retrieved the artifact and set back to town to tell Carius of what had transpired.

After Carius and a small retinue of his men left to retrieve Raynil’s body I spoke again to Bradon’s wife. She was extremely grateful to me for bringing her husband’s murderer to justice. I presented her with the artifact that Raynil had so desperately sought but she refused to take it. I couldn’t blame her, given the circumstances. She then revealed to me that Bradon had always suspected a day would come when one of his old group might turn to betrayal and had put a spell upon the artifact just before having it sealed away. She spoke a word of power and in a flash of light the Alyeid amulet turned from something rather unremarkable into a piece of obvious beauty and magical power. She asked me to have it, insisting that it was what Bradon would have wanted.

Not only did I accomplish bringing a murderer to justice but I was rewarded for it as well! Although I had yet to find a source of steady income my adventuring had been paying off quite satisfactorily.

Warning: potential side quest spoilers ahead!

From Garn’s recollections:

Leaving Chorrol

Feeling it time to make my leave of the city of Chorrol I began to travel to northeast towards the city of Bruma.

As I was exploring some ancient ruins I discovered a chest. Most of the chests left around ruins, especially on the surface, belong to bandits and other newer inhabitants and rarely seem to contain anything of interest and this one seemed no different at first though the skeleton of a long dead warrior next to it did at least give me pause to take extra caution whilst opening it.

“Phallic monuments lead the way.”

The chest contained only a key and a scroll. The scroll contained a small note – something about “the sword pointing the way.” I admit while I’m not one for riddles I was of course intrigued. Though I didn’t recall any sword bearing statues or anything else which might have guided me to the answer to this riddle I scoured the ruins regardless. Finally ready to give up I returned to the sight of the chest one last time and almost tripped on the silver long sword of the dead warrior. Of course! I took the warrior’s sword (as it was a fine enough blade to sell later) and began to carefully walk in the direction it had pointed.

“Ok, maybe it isn’t that difficult of a riddle.”

I reached a large boulder on a hillside with a magnificent view of the Imperial City in the river valley below. Nestled beside the boulder and some other, smaller rocks sit another chest. I carefully searched around the still locked chest for any sign of hidden traps such as pressure plates or trip wires. Nothing. I unlocked the chest and it only contained a fine dagger, some gold coin, and another riddle like note. Having enough of these puzzles and feeling ever more like I was walking headlong into a trap I continued on my journey.

I soon wandered back into relative civilization onto the Red Road in the Heartlands north of the Imperial City and into a small farming village called Aleswell. Dark was quickly approaching and walking Cyrodiil’s roads had often proved to be more excitement than I was wanting at the time so I stopped at the tiny Aleswell Inn. Unfortunately the innkeeper was nowhere in sight – in fact, no one was anywhere to be found in the entire village. I was both confused and cautious and my heart almost jumped through my ribcage when a disembodied voice broke the silence and greeted me. Soon, along with the sounds of creaking footsteps, more voices joined in.

“And you thought some of my other screenshots were dark!”

It turned out that the entire population of Aleswell had been turned invisible and although they didn’t quite know how or why they unanimously seemed to suspect a wizard named Ancotar who had moved into some nearby ruins a relatively short time before this. They asked me to check into it for them, promising a reward if I were able to cure their strange condition. Although I suspected the people of Aleswell didn’t have much to offer an adventurer of my growing stature other than some food from their impressive fields I decided to take up their cause anyway.

I wandered down to the ruins of an old fort and as I quietly crept towards the entrance I was attack by not one by two invisible creatures. As I began to fight I quickly recognized them as common bears. I remember thinking it highly unusual that even the wildlife there was invisible. After all of the commotion of fighting them off I kept my sword drawn and entered the ruins with much less of a concern for stealth. Although I found what appeared to be a small camp belonging to the mage on the second level I found no sign of the man himself. As I ascended the steps to the third story of the ruined tower, however, an invisible figure ahead attempted to frighten me away. I was sure this was no spirit, however, and figured that the mage himself must be invisible too.

“Not the nicest magic laboratory I’ve ever visited.”

When I question him about the invisibility it appeared that Ancotar was unaware about the plight of the villages, intending only to make himself invisible so he’d be left alone to attend to his studies. He reluctantly gave me a scroll to reverse the effects and sent me on my way.

As I returned to the villages the people of Aleswell gathered around me in a strange, shimmering circle. As I finished reading from Ancotar’s scroll suddenly the shimmering around me gave way to reveal the true forms of the villagers. Although some of the people of Aleswell were indifferent to being cured of the inconvenience of being invisible, most were very happy to be rid of their curse. The inn keeper perhaps most of all, as he rewarded me with free lodging for life at the Aleswell Inn. Not quite as grand of a prize as many might quest for but something I could definitely make use of, starting with that very night.

Warning: potential side quest spoilers ahead!

From Garn’s recollections:

Ogres and Cultists

I stayed in Chorrol for quite some time doing the odd job here and there while spending most of my free time studying spells and reading books in hopes of sparking some memories and, at the very least, regaining some long forgotten knowledge. Of those jobs a couple turned out to be fairly eventful.

The first started one morning as I stepped out of my inn room to find a shady looking Dark Elf propped up against the wall next to my room door patiently waiting on me. I was, of course, prepared to draw my blade but much to my surprise the Dunmer made no move. Instead, he calmly looked up and slyly smiled at me. He spoke and told me that he had heard I was good for the type of job he had to offer and began laying out the entire scenario.

Apparently the Dunmer had employed a local thief on a regular basis for years and, eventually, this thief had betrayed him and ran away with a valuable object. This object eventually fell into the hands of a local tribe of Redguard Valley Ogres. He desperately wanted the object and would pay me to brave the Ogre’s den in search of it. This task, sounding like much more of an adventure than my last few jobs, I gladly accepted.

“Ewwww, Ogre blood!”

Upon reaching Redguard Valley to south of Chorrol it didn’t take long for me to follow the horrid stench to the cave where the bulk of the Ogre tribe lived. As I crept into the cave and entered the main chamber a number of blood thirsty ogres caught my scent clumsily came running to investigate. Ogres were little challenge to me at this point and I halved them in place one by one until I finally reached the room in which the Ogre Chieftain guarded his booty. The Chieftain turned out to be quite worthy of his spot in the tribe’s pecking order and we fought viciously for what seemed like an hour before I finally stood victorious.

“Expelliarmus!”

After rummaging through the Chieftain’s rather lackluster treasure room I was sure I had found the object that the Dunmer was after. Unfortunately I was faced with a conundrum. The item in question was a special ceremonial blade, the Chorrol Honor Blade, or at least I suspected as much. So the dilemma was clear – do I return to the Dunmer who was employing me or do I return it to the Court of Chorrol where it was stolen from originally?

Given my reputation and relationship with the Countess of Chorrol I thought it only best to turn the Honorblade of Chorrol back to Chorrol. Laythe Wavrick, the court Herald, was ecstatic to have the blade back after so many years and arranged to reward me with a special item of my own from Chorrol’s armories: a mighty shield named the Escutcheon of Chorrol. I have no doubt that the mysterious Dunmer would soon learn of my betrayal but I bet on him being more concerned with getting the sword back for himself than seeking any vengeance on me.

“No kidding. I could have kept the thing you know.”

So now I had an excellent new shield to go along with Chillrend and just in the nick of time as well.

Then, as I was walking back to the inn a young Argonian boy came running towards me yelping “Are you Garn?” I slowly nodded and he hurriedly spat out that Seed-Neeus needed to see me at her traders. Hmph, another opportunity for work I supposed and, of course, I was correct. As I entered Northern Goods and Trade Seed-Neeus hurried to me and thanked me for coming. She explained to me that her daughter, Dar-Ma, has gone missing after making a delivery on her horse to the nearby town of Hackdirt. She asked me to look for her or any clues of where she might have been.

I had visited Hackdirt once previously in my travels and wasn’t at all surprised to hear its name mentioned along side something like this. It was an odd place – a run down town that looked like it might have been a good size at one time but at some point most of the buildings in the town had been burned to the ground. The few locals I talked to there were unusually unfriendly to me and are apparently equally suspicious of all outsiders.

“What, are they going to knock on my door and shower me with pamphlets or something?!”

I immediately rode south to Hackdirt. Upon arrival I had little time to look around before night fell and search for clues via torchlight would surely give me away. In the church I found an unusual book upon the alter. It was something about “Deep Ones”, written in an odd runic language that I had never seen before. This was quite strange and certainly nothing to do with The Nine or even Daedra worship to my knowledge. Of course, none of the townspeople seemed to know anything about Dar-ma though I didn’t expect them to be extremely forthcoming in any case. It was time to call it a night so I didn’t dare to get a room at the town’s sole inn. Instead I made camp in the surrounding woods.

Deep into the morning I was awoken by the sound of someone passing through the trees. As I reached for my blade I was surprised to see a tamed horse slowly walking through the woods, grazing. The horse seemed to match every possible description of Dar-ma’s horse Blossom. Interesting.

In the morning I went back into Hackdirt and brought the horse with me. When I inquired about the horse to the storekeeper whom Dar-ma was supposed to be delivering she claimed that the horse was hers yet at the same time she seemed totally unconcerned about its welfare. Very suspicious.

“Err, yeah everything looks completely normal here…”

Next I decided to visit the inn as to look for clues that Dar-ma might have been there. “Clues” is probably an understatement for what I found there. One of the inn rooms was completely ransacked and after a quick search of it I found Dar-ma’s journal. It appears from her last entry that her horse had thrown a shoe and she was forced to stay the night in the town. She also mentioned hearing footsteps outside of her door. When I asked the inn keeper about the room and the journal itself she claimed that Dar-ma must have simply left without the book. The more I questioned her, the more belligerent she became, even tossing out a vague threat about “The Brethren” at one point. I’m obviously not getting the whole story here…

“The world is a more attractive place when you’re hiding down in your cave.”

The next odd event occurred just a few minutes later as I was poking about in some of the old, burned out buildings on the outskirts of town. Out of no where I was attacked by a man wearing only a pair of sack cloth pants and brandishing a club. He had unusually large eyes and a crazed look about him. Although I slew him easily enough I was still taken aback by how strange he was. I wondered if this was one of the “brethren”.

Later that day I had finally made a breakthrough. One of the townspeople, a man named Jiv Hiriel, told me he had information and to meet me at his home. I was preparing for some sort of ambush but was surprised that Jiv was legitimate. He nervously told me that the townspeople had Dar-ma held captive in the caves below the town and planned on sacrificing her to the Deep Ones soon. He gave me a key to the various trap doors scattered throughout the town and suggested that I make my move that night, while the majority of the townsfolk were at The Gathering.

“Well, I call them freaks.”

Later I snuck back to Jiv’s house and used the trapdoor in his house to gain entrance into the caves below the town. Much to my surprise the cave system was quite extensive with various rooms and an exit into every building in the town. I was able to sneak a quick listen to the sermon. They spoke of The Deep Ones forsaking them after the Legion had burned down their town, and about how only a sacrifice would bring them back.

“Found her, now let’s GTFO!”

As I turned away I faced another one of those crazed, big eyed “brethren” though I was able to subdue him without making enough noise to get me noticed. As I crept through the cave system I came across more and more of these “brethren”. They were relentless in their attacks but nothing I couldn’t handle – I was more concerned with drawing the attention of the rest of the townspeople. Eventually I encountered Jiv once again, and he quietly led me to place where Dar-ma was being held. I thanked him for his help one last time and led Dar-ma to the safety of the above ground world and quickly away from Hackdirt.

I still don’t know what kind of foul things the people of Hackdirt had dug up beneath their town. Perhaps the “Deep Ones” were nothing more than a prank by some bored Daedric Prince, or perhaps something even more ancient and evil was unearthed there. Whatever the case I had enough foes to concern myself with to worry about those that had long since forsaken their people and vanished.