Tag Archives: Oblivion

Warning: potential side quest spoilers ahead!

From Garn’s recollections:

The Ghost Ship

After selling off a few of the odds and ends I had gathered during my recent adventures I packed up the rest of my belongings and set off for the long hike up north, from Leyawiin to Bravil. The path between the two cities, known as the Green Road, was well traveled and much less dangerous than the one I took to get to Leyawiin originally, and the walk was relatively uneventful as far as I recall. Bravil was a city that I had conducted a fair amount of business in since my liberation months ago and its muddy, run down streets were somewhat comforting to see again. I didn’t think there would be much in the way of adventuring to be had in and around Bravil but poking around had become so routine by now it would require very little effort. I started with the city guard.

“Scenic, not so beautiful Bravil.”

One particular guardsman I was casually chatting with mentioned a local superstition, only one that he claimed had been verified as true by practically everyone who travels around the city at night, including most of the guard. The claim was that the ghost of a what appeared to be a sailor would appear on an island in Niben Bay nightly and walk the shore before finally gazing out onto the water for quite some time. So regularly does this spirit appear in fact that some of the guard joked about telling the time by its appearance. The apparition seemed harmless so the locals who were familiar with it simply chose to ignore it. They called it “The Forlorn Watchman”. I must admit that while at first this seemed like a pretty uninteresting story I had learned over those past weeks of steady, purposeful adventuring that almost anything abnormal one sees or hears of usually leads to something bigger when checked into and I was betting that there was more to this situation than a wandering spirit. I decided to investigate myself.

“No, ghosts don’t have a lot of interesting hobbies.”

Following the advice of several different citizens I made my way to Bawnwatch Camp to wait for the spirit to appear. As predicted, the ghost appeared right on time and began its lonely trek across the shore. As it was staring longingly out into the bay I made my move and approached it, sword drawn. The spirit slowly turned to face me and began to speak. It identified itself as spirit of Grantham Blakely and stated, rather cryptically, that he was stuck in the mouth of the panther and needed someone to help release him. The spirit gave little else in the way of details before vanishing. Later that night after walking back to the city I spoke to the innkeeper and the patrons of Silverhome on the Water about what the ghost had told me. A couple of them were quite familiar with the Mouth of the Panther, telling me that it wasn’t quite as cryptic as it sounded, and was actually the nickname the inlet of the Panther River off of the bay, so called because of the jagged rocks that line it.

“What do we have here then…”

The next day was rainy and dreary which made the long trip across the bay even more unpleasant. On the way I imagined what scenario might have brought Grantham to his end but when I reached the Mouth of the Panther it became clear as I almost immediately spotted the damaged carcass of a small ship smashed up against the shore. I poked around the outside of the vessel to learn that it was called the Emma May. It was very heavily damaged and I could only easily make my way below deck by crawling into a giant hole that had been ripped below the waterline. As I crept through the soggy, smashed remnants of the vessel I was suddenly ambushed by several spirits. I struggled against them and eventually defeated them, but they struck with a vicious, desperate hatred which took me by surprise. I thought it odd that I was attacked in such a way until I stumbled upon one of the ship’s log books. The last entry in the book detailed a mutiny aboard the vessel against the captain and his lone supporter, one Grantham Blakely. It appears that Grantham was tied up in the bottom of the ship. It also detailed how the remaining crew sailed the ship into an inlet to escape a storm. The log ended abruptly after that.

“Hot wraith on wraith action.”

As I ventured further into the bowels of the ship I fought off more and more of these malevolent spirits until I finally reached what I had guessed to be the long decayed body of Blakely, secured to a pillar. As I unshackled his remains the spirit of the Forlorn Watchman appeared to me and thanked me for releasing him. Before disappearing once more he motioned to a small pile of cargo and miscellaneous debris in the hold. I sifted through this junk eventually discovering a small scroll that contained some sort of treasure map.

“We meet again, Blakely.”

I left the ship wreck, thankful to return to the light of day, as obscured by clouds as it might have been, and attempted to decipher the map. It appeared to lead up the Panther River. I carefully walked the banks of the river attempting to avoid detection until I reached the approximate location marked on the map. Already rather wet from the steady rain fall I didn’t hesitate to dive into the river to begin my search. After a great deal of toil I located an old wooden chest wedged soundly between two rocks. Once I was able to free the chest and bring it to the surface I was delighted to find that it contained a generous amount of gold and jewels as well as some other artifacts. I don’t know if this was Blakely’s personal stash, or if it perhaps belonged to the captain or one of the mutinous crew members, but in any case it was a just reward for my short adventure and a welcome start to my quest for work in Bravil.

Warning: potential side quest spoilers ahead!

From Garn’s recollections:

Knight Time

While walking away from Rosentia’s house I was approached by a city guard. It seemed that the Count was requesting council with me. Having yet to meet the Count of Leyawiin I was intrigued but not at all worried as my dealings with city rulers so far had been largely positive. Most likely the Count had heard that a new adventurer was in town looking for work and had use for an unknown agent to do some of his dirty work.

“Just sit there, you smug bastard.”

Indeed, Count Marius Caro was welcoming and seemed to be fairly frank with his statements which I respected. He had summoned me to investigate an Orc who had been hanging around Leyawiin claiming to be a knight. Specifically he wanted me to find out what she was up to. Mazoga wasn’t hard to find. Clad in full plate armor and rudely harassing the castle guard about wanting to speak to the Count, Mazoga could be singled out from a mile away. I introduced myself.

“The government does – you didn’t fill out form 32A in triplicate!”

Mazoga insisted I call her Sir Mazoga despite being female and her manners left nothing to be desired, even for an Orc. She wouldn’t give me any details about what she was up to. Instead, she bluntly asserted that I seek out Weebam-na for her. I let the count know that Mazoga was interested in Weebam-na but he wanted to dig deeper and insisted I assist her in finding him. Weebam-na was a Argonian hunter who lived within the city walls. While the Argonian didn’t seem to have a clue about what Mazoga could want with him he was curious enough to go speak with her.

“A delicate meeting of the minds.”

Mazoga drilled Weebam-na about a place called Fisherman’s Rock. While Weebam’na was familiar with it Mazoga’s rude tone and refusal to tell him why she wanted to go there caused him to decide not to guide her there. After a few more raised words the hunter left leaving the would-be knight angry and not much closer to her mysterious goal. Still, Weebam-na revealed enough about the location that Mazoga now knew where to find it. Not content with this, she turned to me and demanded that I take her to Fisherman’s Rock. Updating the Count one last time on the situation I returned to Mazoga and agreed to go with her.

“Targets acquired.”

The journey to Fisherman’s Rock was largely uneventful. As we descended the hill from the Yellow Road into the woods and finally, with the coast in sight a bandit camp came into view. Surprisingly Mazoga calmly approached the bandits, whispering to me not to attack until after she had a word with the bandit leader, Mogens Wind-Shifter. At first she asked him if he remembered her. Confused, he claimed he did not. Then she asked the large Nord if he remembered her friend, Ra’vindra. Again, he didn’t acknowledge a connection. Finally Mazoga launched into a angry tirade about Mogens and his bandits killing Ra’vindra, her best friend. Swords were drawn and the time was nigh.

“Mazoga attempts to confuse the bandit leader before killing him.”

I quickly rushed out from behind the tree from which I was observing the confrontation and drew my sword as the gang circled around Mazoga. A massive melee ensued. Luckily Mazoga could in fact handle her own, and while the battle was not over quickly, it did end decisively. Standing over the bodies of the fallen bandits Mazoga wiped the blood from her face, told me I could have the entirety of the loot, and wandered off into the woods. I quickly searched through the camp and headed back the Castle Leyawiin to fill the count in on the what had just occurred.

Count Caro found Magoza’s self appointed knighthood, quest for vengeance, and elimination of some long troublesome local bandits all quite honorable. He offered Magoza and myself an opportunity to become Knights-Errants of Leyawiin’s own Knights of the White Stallion order. While I was sure Magoza would jump at the chance I didn’t quite know how I felt about it.

“Gee, thanks. Must be an exclusive club.”

The Count had a seemingly simple request for us – to eliminate a dangerous Orc outlaw called Black Brugo. Magoza knew of Brugo, and knew that he made daily visits to one of his gang’s hideout in some relatively close ruins north of the city. Magoza, was of course, overjoyed with the idea of being an official knight. I decided that I could use the reputation boost for future work and since there were so few strings attached there were few foreseeable downsides. There was also the bonus of getting free room and board at the order’s lodge on the Green Road north of Leyawiin which could definitely be useful in future travels. Off I went with Magoza once again.

“Arriving at Telepe.”

We hiked to the old Ayleid ruins where Brugo’s gang, The Black Bows Bandits, held up. At first the camp appeared to be deserted. As Magoza and I crept through the drizzle along the soft, rain-soaked ground we kept a close watch for possible sentries. We made it all the way to the steps leading down into the subterranean levels of the ruin before the first arrow caught my shoulder. Magoza dashed for cover as I rolled to my right and instinctively blasted a fireball towards the roof of the structure. Although I didn’t hit the guard my spell did reveal the silhouette of the bandit in question, drawing his bow for another shot.

“This never gets old.”

I gained my feet and rushed for cover as a barrage of arrows landed all around me. Once I had the safety of some fallen stonework in front of me I was able to better see my target and put the archer on the defensive with multiple fireball hits. Soon the bandit withdrew from his position and I turned to see several more figures rushing my position. Whether they were already patrolling the camp or had been roused by the noise of the skirmish underway, they wasted no time joining the fray. I drew my sword and Magoza dashed from her cover to join me.

“Brugo and I square off.”

It instantly became clear that these new additions were none other than Black Brugo and his personal entourage. While Magoza was able to distract one of the bandits, tangling him up in an intense sword fight, the others concentrated on me. Blocking their hits with my shield and choosing my own attacks very carefully soon I was able to cut down all but Brugo himself. While Black Brugo was a fierce warrior I found that my swordsmanship was on another level above his and as Magoza finished her opponent and rushed to my aid he dropped to his knees and slumped over, defeated.

After looting the bodies and securing the area around the ruins, Magoza suggested that we finish what we had started by entering and clearing out the bandit camp lower in the ruins. Given that we had already slain the gang’s toughest members I figured I had nothing to lose and unknown treasures to gain, and agreed.

“Magoza viciously finishes off a wounded bandit. Eww.”

The accessible parts of the ruins were well lit and relatively clean – obviously still used. As we crept through the hallways we heard little activity. Finally we reached a large room teaming with life – several bandits gathered, chatting, eating, relaxing, cleaning their weapons, etc. while I watched from the darkened corridor. When I turned to signal Magoza she was already running full speed passed me, sword above her head, into the room. I drew my sword and stepped into the room after her. While the ensuing melee was large and chaotic, few of the bandits proved any challenge for the two of us and soon we stood with a pile of bodies at our feet. Perhaps if we were in a larger space where they could have made use of their infamous archery skills they would have fared better. We looted the bodies and continued to search the ruins, though found nothing more of interest save for the gang’s bank box which the two of us split evenly.

“Business is good!”

When we reported back to the Count he was quite pleased. He, very informally, dubbed both of us Knight-Errants and presented us each a shield bearing the crest of Leyawiin and keys to the order’s lodge. He also said as Knights of the White Stallion he would award us generous bounties for proof that we had killed more members of the troublesome Black Bow Bandits. Magoza immediately set herself to the task, while I retreated to the peace of my inn room for one last, hopefully quiet, night in the city before finally heading north.

Warning: potential side quest spoilers ahead!

From Garn’s recollections:

Layover in Leyawiin

I’ve been majorly slacking on my updates lately. Sorry readers! I’ll be trying to force myself to play more and more Oblivion this month so expect several more updates before May.

After the successful completion of my last quest I was preparing to continue on my journey, heading back up north to the Imperial City. I spent one more night sleeping in a semi-civilized manner, in an inn, before stopping by the city market in the morning to purchase some fruits and vegetables. While walking around the market I overheard several different people discussing a citizen called Rosentia Gallenus. Apparently she hadn’t come out of her house for days and there was a horrible stench and strange noises emanating from within as well. I decided to postpone my departure slightly and investigate.

Knocking on her front door I wasn’t sure what I’d find. Had she committed some kind of grizzly murder? Was she some sort of powerful necromancer, or had she possibly become undead herself? When she finally opened the door she looked worried and exhausted. Recognizing me as an adventurer a weight seemed to instantly lift from her shoulders and she invited me in.

“We wouldn’t want the neighbors to think you’re the wrong religion, now would we?”

Immediately upon entering her house I was surprised to find the room flanked by several scamps. Rosentia explained. After the death of her husband left her with a fair amount of free septims she began collecting rare, magical artifacts. Her most recent purchase was a staff of Daedric origin. While attempting to translate the runes on it she accidentally activated it, summoning the scamps. Apparently the scamps didn’t cause much in the way of mischief but they followed her everywhere, and even killing them wouldn’t cause them to go away – a new one just appeared in its place. Rosentia had tried getting rid of the scamps, and indeed the staff itself, but nothing worked. She needed help figuring out how to get rid of it. Unable to go herself without raising all kinds of questions about her new, little friends she asked me to talk to one of her friends at the Mage’s Guild.

“Awww, aren’t they precious?”

Alves Uvenim had already suspected what might be going on and conducted some of her own investigating. She believed that the staff was a creation of Sheogorath, the Daedric prince of madness, and that we might be able to get rid of it by leaving it at a shine to him. Fortunately Alves discovered that Rosentia could give me the staff as long as I would willingly accept it. Not only that, but there was a little known shrine to Sheogorath in a cave not far from the city. Problem solved! I visited Rosentia one last time to retrieve the staff and began my journey.

I soon left the city, legion of scamps in tow. Thankfully I wasn’t concerned about rumors of my own dabblings with the Daedra as I was routinely spotted traveling with much worse than mere scamps. The scamps were indeed annoying, however. Unlike summoned creatures they wouldn’t fight for me. In fact, if anything they preferred to stand in the way and hamper my efforts, cackling and snarling as if they were well aware of the twisted joke their Daedric master was playing.

“Leave my Daedroth alone, you Xivilai fuck!”

When I finally pushed open the long disused wooden door barring the dark pathway leading down into Darkfathom Cave I immediately heard the scurrying of more Daedric creatures. My attempts to quietly sneak into the cave were of course nullified by my own beastly entourage. Inside the cave I faced a large variety of exotic Daedric creatures, many of which I hadn’t laid my eyes on before. Thankfully few of them posed much of a threat and I soon found myself standing at an ancient, long disused shrine to Lord Sheogorath.

“Nice shrine. Further proof that the Daedric Princes have tiny wangs”

The shrine was impressive – probably once a central place of worship in Tamriel long ago. I approached it cautiously and laid down the staff upon an empty alter in front of a large statue of Sheogorath. The scamps scattered and the curse appeared to be lifted. Upon returning to Leyawiin Rosentia was relieved to hear of the news and for my trouble she offered me an less annoying artifact from her collection – a magic ring that seemed as if it would be useful indeed. Another job well done and thankfully another reward worth my trouble. I was hopeful that this might become a trend and I might be able to make my living as an adventurer.