Tag Archives: Oblivion

Warning: potential side quest spoilers ahead!

From Garn’s recollections:

The Petty and The Pious

As soon as I arrived at Leyawiin’s city gates I was hailed by a guardsman. He welcomed me to the city and, after quickly scanning my attire, inquired about my availability to help the city guard with a small task. He told me of a local Skooma dealer who had setup shop in a house in Greyland to the south that the city authorities wanted dealt with.

“Welcome to Leyawiin. Now go kill some people!”

When I arrived at the house I could see the shadows of two men cast against the ground from the torchlight within. I was able to creek the front door open without either of them noticing thanks in large part to the noise of the heavy rain fall outside. I crept into the house and took a quick look at my adversaries. Both men were well armed and seemed to be somewhat tense, in mid discussion about business no doubt.

“Fore!!!”

I summoned a frost atronach in the middle of the room, immediately catching the attention of both men who quickly drew their swords in panic. I then drew my own blade and rushed at them from behind as they attempted to stand with the atronach. After finishing off the first gang member I focused my attention on the second. Alas, the frost elemental was too much for the drug trafficker to handle and as I turned to face him the atronach sent the poor bastard flying through the air, narrowly missing me.

I searched the bodies and the rest of the building and gathered a few identifying objects to bring to the Leyawiin Guard. I was greeted with a fair bounty in gold for my services. My visit to the city of Leyawiin was starting off quite favorably.

Later that day I wandered around Leyawiin learning the lay of the city and doing a bit of shopping. While looking through the spell library at the Mage’s Guild I was approached by a Khajiit mage named S’drassa who wanted to talk to me discretely about some personal side work.

“These Mages Guild guys sure seem to have cushy jobs.”

It seemed that S’drassa was a bit of a collector of rare and precious crystals and stones and wanted my help in tracking down an extremely rare, magical crystal known as Garridan’s Tears. He suggested I ask around at other Mage’s Guild locations and, in particular, the Arcane University in the capital city. Normally I don’t agree to such lengthy quests that involve so much travel but S’drassa’s story sounded interesting and I was sure from his dress that he had the money to pay me handsomely.

After traveling north to the Imperial City I spoke to a few of the staff of the Arcane University and was quickly directly to Julienne Fanis. Julienne spoke a little about the legend of Garridan’s Tears but soon directed me to a book that told the tale. I purchased a room in an inn on that side of the city and read the book by candle light well into the night.

The story of Garridan’s Tears was a fascinating one indeed. The book told of a good Knight who lorded over a small farming community. When a vicious drought struck his lands his people sought his aid. Helpless to aid them himself he paid the best sages in the land to seek a solution. Eventually, as the situation seemed the most bleak and desperate he was approached by a sage who told him of the legend of the Everflow Ewer – a magical vessel which never ran out of water. Garridan believed that this was the answer to his people’s problems and set out on a noble quest to retrieve the artifact.

Following the sage’s advice Garridan breached an ancient cave and then a magically sealed door that lead to a small glade. Finally, inside the glade he discovered an altar on which sat the Ewer, just as the story told. All was not well, however, as when Garridan grasped the artifact the ground rumbled and an immensely powerful ice golem or elemental of some sort appeared and began attacking the knight. Garridan defended himself bravely but the guardian of the glade was too much for him.

The tale goes that as it was about to land it’s final blow Garridan blocked it with the Ewer itself, splitting it and causing a massive explosion of ice, freezing the surrounding areas and incasing both Garridan and the golem in a block of solid crystal. Tears erupted from Garridan’s eyes as he realized that he had failed his people. The few small crystals that were ejected from the grasp of the icy tomb are what are known as Garridan’s Tears today.

I traveled back to S’drassa to tell him of what I had learned as well as to see if he could prepare me to enter the frigid area where this epic story had come to a close. The narrator of the story claimed to be there when these events transpired and, according to his description, the entire area around the altar was now cursed by a deadly frost. Luckily S’drassa had just the perfect solution in some powerful potions and I set out on my journey to the cavern rumored to be the one in the tale: Frostfire Cave.

“At the entrance of Frostfire Cave.”

As I entered Frostfire Cave I found it to be strangely abandoned. Most of the caverns, ruins, and other interesting sites throughout the Empire had some obvious signs of visits from treasure hunters, bandits, or monsters, even if they were remotely located and well hidden as with this location. When I entered the cavern, however, I was greeted with an almost choking eruption of silt from the rocky floor. I navigated the rocky passages slowly and deliberately through dust clouded torchlight.

“Down boy, down!”

The only creatures that inhabited the cave were a large pack of artic wolves. Oddly enough many of the wolves in the cave seemed to be either extremely agitated or slightly distracted. I suspected that this was a side effect from the powerful magical seal that protected the entrance to the glade, which I soon discovered in a large room at the end of the cave system. I opened the door in the manner described in the book with little difficulty.

“Hermetically sealed.”

The strange glade was, at first, beautiful and lush. A peaceful place that I could easily have imagined once served as a resting place for a powerful magician or even a great ruler in times long past. Still, one had to travel only a few paces over a small foothill to see the frost scorched area where my objective waited.

I crept slowly towards the frost and ice covered area attempting not to alert whatever might still occupy the area. The narrator of the tale in the book didn’t lie – the closer I got the colder I became until it became completely unbearable, practically burning my skin. I took one of the potions S’drassa provided me with and continued on.

“Target acquired.”

Luckily the only guardian I saw protecting the area was a single frost atronach or golem of some sort. It definitely wasn’t the intimidating one from the tale, as I could see his towering silhouette against the translucent edges of the large block of ice set dead center of the frozen area. Still yet undetected I positioned myself behind a large boulder and soon let lose with a barrage of fireballs into the creature. It was mighty indeed, and I quickly found myself locked in melee with it. Still, between my sword and my mastery of fire based magic it posed little real threat to me.

“Damn, that’s cold! *rimshot*”

Once the sole protector the glade fell I began exploring the frozen patch of earth. Just as the legend described there stood Garridan and the great ice creature, locked in battle and entombed for all eternity in icy crystal. Garridan clearly held the remains of the Ewer and soon I found my first crystal of Garridan’s Tears nearby. I quickly realized that my supply of frost protection potions was running dangerously low and began more purposefully searching for crystals. Moments later I was sure I had gathered that I could gather without myself becoming part of the usual scenery of Frostfire Glade and made my way through the doorway back into the caves.

“If the cat dudes are happy I’m happy.”

S’drassa could barely contain himself when I arrived with not one, but five of the legendary crystals in hand. The mage pulled out a small satin sack of coin and threw it on his workbench and then reached around him and pulled out a second. It was a handsome reward of several thousand gold pieces – the most I had yet earned from a single payment and it was all earned relatively easily.

Warning: potential side quest spoilers ahead!

From Garn’s recollections:

Going Down

Loaded up with my various bags, pouches, and satchels I was ready to once again hit the road. This time I’d be making the long southward trek from county Cheydinhal to the city of Leyawiin.

My first order of business was to purchase a horse to aid me in the journey however the only stable located in Cheydinhal was Black Watersides Stables which specialized in an extremely expensive breed of horse. A breed of horse I’d like to have, no doubt, but one that I couldn’t justify the expense of for this trip especially considering the potential for danger along the way.

“Free horse!!!”

That thought had barely escaped my brain when, as I headed onto the road, I witnessed a group of bandits hassling an imperial guardsman. As the group split up, the guard chased two of them into the brush while another attempted to steal his horse. I gave the guard a nod just before we lost sight of each other and dispatched the lone brigand for him. An interesting start to my journey for sure.

For the most part the trip was uneventful. I harvested the occasional herb, passed more than a few mounted guardsmen along the roads, and generally enjoyed the relatively peaceful trek. In fact the first highwaymen I encountered were over half way there, at the Imperial Bridge – a surprising place for them to setup shop since the nearby Imperial Bridge Inn was a popular stop for imperial patrols. The bandits were relatively amateur and posed little threat.

“I seem to be doing this more and more lately.”

I decided to take a slight detour over to the Imperial Bridge Inn to purchase a fresh drink. While last time I was in the area I became aware of the underground slave trade operating in the thick swamplands to the East, I didn’t expect to run into any work while at the inn.

As I was minding my own and enjoying my ale I was approached by an Altmer who claimed to have some easy work for me if I’d like to accept. The Altmer, a magic user by the name of Lithnilian, told me that while conducting some research in a nearby cave he was driven out by some of the cave’s more vicious inhabitants. Unfortunately for him he had left his research notes in his haste. The notes represented years of his research and were quite precious to him. This sounded like easy money.

“I should start charging tickets for this sort of thing…”

As I crept into the dark natural cave known as Bramblepoint Cave to the locals I feared that Lithnilian’s description of the place was slightly understated. It was absolutely teaming with monsters. Ogres and Trolls in particular seemed to inhabit various portions of the cave system in large numbers. My curses quickly faded, however, when I learned that clearing out monsters wasn’t Lithnilian’s only neglect when exploring Bramblepoint – there was an absolute bounty of loot to be had in various chests and treasure piles!

Eventually I found the chamber in which Lithnilian had been doing his research and was able to recover his notes without too much difficulty. Another job well done.

“Glowy stones.”

As I left the cave and ventured back south towards the inn I noticed a small abbey in the distance. Having never noticed the building before I figured I might stop in to get out of the rain for a moment and perhaps receive a blessing. While I hadn’t quite decided to turn to The Nine yet I had at least learned of their powers along my travels. As I got closer to the building I was surprised to see it vine covered and crumbling. I curiously began to push open the door to poke around when I heard some strange noises coming from inside. My own magic use had grown fairly powerful and I recognized some of the Daedric in the chants from some of my own incantations.

I quietly put down my torch and some of my extra bags, drew my sword, and kicked open the double doors. Before me was a grizzly sight: two robed men, necromancers no doubt, performing a ritual. All manner of desecrated corpses and body parts were scattered about the chapel and the altar had been… re-purposed.

“…and I thought *I* was a good interior decorator!”

No sooner had I taken in my surroundings than the necromancers had summoned a selection of undead minions and began casting their own destructive spells against me. Luckily the necromancers and their animations fell easily to my blade. I searched the rest of the chapel and claimed a few bits of wealth, no doubt looted from graves and sacrifices. Still, it would do the dead no good now, at least not without these necromancers around.

When I arrived back at the inn and gave Lithnilian some notes he awarded me with some high quality potions. He also left me with a tip: he found a weathered letter rolled up outside of another nearby cave. He said the note was written by a mage named Vangaril and described how his friend Erandur had taken his obsession with necromancy to its ultimate conclusion and become a lich. Vangaril decided attempt to free his friend or, if need be, slay him.

Lithnilian decided to stay clear of this cave as he didn’t seek to tangle with liches and he figured by the age of the note that Vangaril was beyond help. Having just had my own run-in with some local necromancers I had little doubt of Lithnilian’s tale and decided to investigate for myself. While I didn’t exactly want to tangle with liches myself I knew that where such powerful undead creatures were there was usually treasure. Perhaps I was being a bit greedy after having just successfully plundered Bramblepoint.

“Nice to meet you too.”

Lost Boy Cavern, as it is known, was quite obviously inhabited by necromancers from the time I swung open its crudely assembled door. There were a few corpses scattered around the entrance hallway in creative ways as an obvious sign to scare off would-be adventurers.

The more I investigated the cavern the more necromancers and their creations I encountered. I also encountered various signs that Vangaril had been here: signs of battle, discarded weapons, consumed spell reagents, and even a few more journal pages. Vangaril had penetrated the lich’s compound! It appeared his presence did not go unnoticed, however, as I found a crumpled note later mocking Vangaril and promising to consume his soul.

“Damn these things are freaky looking!”

The deeper I ventured into the cavern the more dangerous and exotic foes I faced: wraiths and lesser liches, ghosts and other spirits. This was by far the most deadly place I had visited since first emerging from the sewers beneath the Imperial City. Many difficult battles took place and I found myself stretched to the limits of my abilities, sometimes barely staying alive, often resorting to healing potions and salves. Like my journey into Bramblepoint my expedition into Lost Boy Cavern wasn’t without a silver lining, however. As I suspected I was able to loot all manner of gold, exquisite jewels, exotic spell scrolls and potions, precious weapons and armor and magic items.

Eventually, deeper into the caverns, I found further evidence of Vangaril’s quest. It seems that he had completed his ritual to free Erandur’s soul. I found this surprising considering the number of undead still around.

“Trading blows with a Spectral Warrior.”

Finally I entered an area that was more finely structured than the rest of the cave system with natural cave walls and crude brick work giving way to proper stone masonry. I knew I must be getting close to the end of my journey. I was confused to find a small alchemy laboratory containing several more letters, most of the crumbled up. The tone of these letters, most of them angrily directed at the Mage’s Guild, seemed to indicate that perhaps Vangaril’s rites failed after all and that he himself had instead been consumed.

Soon I swung open a pair of heavy, reinforced doors to find the lich himself sitting upon his throne staring down at me. It was obvious that he had been waiting for me. I was still unsure of the exact identity of the lich but had no time to investigate as he began summoning undead animations and casting curses at me with violent urgency.

“I think I might have pissed him off.”

I had little recourse but to draw my silver claymore and charge the foul undead fiend in attempt to overpower him. Unfortunately the lich floated with a remarkable grace and dodged many of my blows, peppering me with painful elemental spells. I concentrated my own magic use on keeping my health. Soon, however, I was able to land a stunning blow and knock the fiend to the ground. Furiously I landed strike after strike, violently hacking the fiend’s unliving vessel to pieces. That was it, the lich of Lost Boy Cavern had been slain!

I limped back to The Imperial Bridge Inn, injured but laden with an impressive amount of loot, and immediately purchased a room for the night. I took the rest of my trip south much more slowly and while I nursed my wounds I began to question my choice of careers. Sure, I had made a huge amount of money, but at what cost? I had almost perished several times.

I managed to make a few thousand gold in gold pieces alone during this trip, not even counting all of the looted items I have yet to sell from the crawls. More importantly I gained tons of valuable skill ups making it to level 25 by the end of this session. I’m getting up there!

Warning: potential side quest spoilers ahead!

From Garn’s recollections:

A Brush with Corruption

After ending my long, cold trek through the northern mountains only the night before my less than luxurious accommodations at Newman’s Lodge in Cheydinhal felt more than worth the 10 gold pieces the establishment’s proprietor charged me for them.

I left the inn to scour the town for work but did so in a bit more of a lackadaisical way than usual as I had spent little time (that I remembered) in the city and knew little of its people and customs. One thing I did note right away, however, was that there was a strong Dark Elf influence here, from the buildings to the racial makeup of the citizens themselves. While I’d certainly guess the Dunmer of Cheydinhal are used to dealing with other races I still made a note to be wary. Up until now though the Dunmer I’ve run across haven’t been much more difficult than any other race to deal with and I’ve even enjoy listening to a few of them jabber on drunkenly in taverns thanks to their well known cynical dispositions.

Even treading carefully it took me practically no time at all to secure my first lead. It seems that the famous painter and Cheydinhal resident Rythe Lythandas had recently disappeared. While there are certainly many possible ways for one to “disappear” Rythe apparently rarely left the confines of his home, let alone the city walls. On a tip I visited his home to speak to his wife to see about the possibility of making my investigation an official job. Thankfully his wife, Tivela, was quite happy to offer payment and lay out the entire scenario for me.

“I’m going to need some privacy for this next part, ma’am.”

Tivela explained to me that it was custom for Rythe to lock himself in his study when painting a piece and work, sometimes totally uninterrupted, for quite a lot of time. However, in this instance Rythe hadn’t been heard from in days. Concerned Tivela unlocked the room only to find it empty. This is where I began my search. There was no sign of any struggle whatsoever, and the only real clue lay in a freshly painted picture sitting his easel. As Tivela walked off to attend to another caller I touched the painting to check on the firmness and/or dampness of the paint when something miraculous happened: I was teleported to another realm!

“Yeah, yeah. It’s always a Bosmer in dark clothing…”

While it resembled The Great Forest something was amiss about the entire place – a haze of some sort lay over it, and everything appeared quite strange. I didn’t have long to take it in when a Dark Elf came racing towards me from behind some large boulders. It was Rythe himself. It took some prodding but eventually Rythe came out with the entire story. He had inherited a powerful enchanted paint brush which let him teleport to within a canvas and conjure anything he wished in painted form. This let him paint astonishingly realistic paintings in very little time without the need to posses any actual skill in painting.

“If only I had some turpentine!”

According the Rythe a thief broke into his study, stole this paintbrush, teleported into his painting in progress, and painted some trolls in order to protect him. The thief’s plan, if he ever actually had one, had backfired however and the trolls slew him. Rythe, desperate to escape, begged me to go attempt to retrieve the paint brush from the body of the thief so he could paint us an exit. I’d have to fight the trolls, of course, and Rythe was no fighter and he could tell I was. Armed with a summoned flame spirit and my own fire spells, traditionally quite handy against real world trolls, I venture through the strange painted world.

“If there were a looting corpses skill I’d have maxed it by now.”

I fought many a difficult battle against these painted trolls until I finally found the thief’s body and the enchanted paintbrush. As promised, Rythe was able to paint us an exit back to his study. After asking me not to reveal the secret of his talent, to which I agreed since the concerns of artists mean relatively little to me, he paid me for my trouble with a magical item of some worth. Another job well done and news of Rythe’s mysterious return spread quickly throughout the city.

“Umm, you first!”

My next task in Cheydinhal was much more grounded in the realities of city life, fortunately. I began to note the abundance of guardsman in the city and soon came across a high ranking soldier who seemed to enjoy flaunting his authority as I personally witnessed him threaten several citizens for merely being in his path. When I mentioned this curious guardsman to some I was quickly referred to a local Dunmer woman who could tell me much more about him.

“Aww, what a swell guy.”

I visited Llevana Nedaren who was an outspoken critic of the city guard, accusing them, particularly of their captain, Ulrich Leland, of corruption. Apparently his preferred method of extortion was that of charging exuberant fines for practically any offense, even those that never happened. Llevana’s only real idea for a course of action was to speak to Ulrich’s second in command, Garrus Darelliun, who was apparently already suspicious of Ulrich and a circle of his men.

“What? Do they not have cops in Morrowind or something?”

I went to speak to Garrus in Cheydinhal Castle. Garrus struck me as a very by the book man – one who both rigidly followed and enforced the rules and morals of his station. He seemed to be honest and above corruption himself. He was indeed interested in catching Ulrich but had little solid proof of his crimes. He told me if that if I could investigate more on my own perhaps he could do something about the issue. One thing he had suggested was to speak with a man named Aldos Othran who could possibly act as a witness.

Aldos was apparently a local man who turned into a drunkard after losing his wife in a bandit attack and soon turned to binge drinking to ease his depression. He was fined for his drunkenness several times despite rarely being warranted according to witnesses, and the fines were so extreme Aldos eventually had his home confiscated by the guard..

“Hmm, I don’t think this is going to go so well.”

I found Aldos living in a small camp near the river that cuts down the middle of Cheydinhal but he was little help. The few questions I was able to ask him sent him into a drunken rage as he quickly sought to stand up for himself against the guard that had been such a source of injustice to him. He went to his former home and challenged the guard posted there and eventually directly attacked the guard who wasted little time responding with deadly force. I was quickly running out of options.

“Nope, it didn’t go so well.”

Garrus had suggested one more possibility: perhaps I could search Ulrich’s private quarters in the barracks for evidence. He, himself, had noted extravagant furnishings and the like in the captain’s quarters and suspected that some sort of undeniable proof was probably hidden there as well. Garrus couldn’t provide me with the details I’d need to do this easily but his idea was perhaps enough to give me the ammo to seal the deal.

“Without bloodshed? How am I supposed to… what am I… what the?”

I stood outside of the barracks with a view of Ulrich’s door. While it was difficult to be entirely inconspicuous in such a place other than a few strange looks from guards nothing became of it. Once the main dining hall had cleared out during a change of the castle guard and I saw Ulrich himself leave I snuck into his quarters. It didn’t take me long to find the proof I needed – a letter describing a huge some of money and goods being sent to Ulrich’s relatives outside of the city. Now it was clear why the guard had been handing out massive fines with such frequently. I snuck out of Ulrich’s quarters as quietly as I snuck in and reported to Garrus with the letter. Garrus was quite happy with my findings and ran off to speak to the Count of Cheldinhal himself, instructing me to meet him at the Cheydinhal Bridge Inn in a couple of hours.

“Working on my seventh drink waiting on Garrus to show up.”

I sat in the inn drinking at the bar, hoping that the results of this task wouldn’t get me more trouble than reward and soon enough Garrus appeared. He quietly thanked me for my work and told me that the Count had Ulrich stripped of his rank and sent to the castle dungeons. Garrus himself had been promoted to be the new captain of the guard and the Count had instructed him to give me a handsome sum of gold for my assistance in “helping the people of Cheydinhal” in this matter.

Ahh, another task that worked out even better than expected! And my name was once again on the lips of another city’s Count. While I still didn’t know if this were a good thing or not, fearing that my past might eventually come back to haunt me, it would at least aid me more and more with getting future jobs.