Tag Archives: The Tale of Garn

The Tale of Garn Chapter 8

Please take note that from this point on the Tale of Garn will shift to covering more quests and will therefore contain mucho spoilers. While I may change or totally skip over some elements of some of these quests for roleplay reasons I’m sure that what I do cover will be sufficient to piss off those who are easily offended by such things.

From the journals of Garn:

Odd Jobs and Odd People

Because of the events of my very first night here in Skingrad, psychotic guards and whatnot, I figured it would be a pretty interesting place to look for work. After a couple of days of wandering the streets, going from business to business, and hanging out in various taverns, I’ve begun to think otherwise.

I'm not sure if I should talk to it or punt it.
“I’m not sure if I should talk to it or punt it.”

That quickly changed as a wood elf awkwardly approached me in the streets. The Bosmer introduces himself as Glarthir and nervously whispers something to me about meeting him tonight behind the Great Chapel for work. I’m apprehensive about the nature of this meeting at first but after spending the rest of the day without any other leads, despite questionable talk regarding Glarthir’s sanity, I decide to take up his offer.

Uhh, yeah... sure Glarthir.
“Uhh, yeah… sure Glarthir.”

I creep out of my inn room and carefully walk to our arranged meeting point. Glarthir is already there, ecstatic to see that I’ve actually shown up. He explains that he believes he is being watched and only someone like me, an outsider, can safely help investigate. He says he has a list of conspirators that he wants me to follow. In turn I’ll be rewarded handsomely. Sounds like easy money.

My first assignment is a young Breton woman who lives quite close to Glarthir’s residence. I follow her for the entire day but her daily routine seems, at best, inconspicuous. She goes to the chapel every morning and then to work for most of the rest of the day at the Tamika Winery. I report my findings to Glarthir that night and despite being surprised about the outcome he rewards me and gives me the name of another person to investigate.

Just look at all of those goddamn conspirators!
“Just look at all of those goddamn conspirators!”

The other two people, a noble who seems to have no responsibilities but enjoys loafing around Castle Skingrad and going on leisurely horseback rides and then David Surilie of the locally famous Surilie Vineyards, also seem to lead routines devoid of any suspicion.

As I give my final report to Glarthir he becomes enraged and accuses me of being in on the conspiracy. Given our secluded location and the time of day I have no choice but to defend myself then and there and end up killing him. News of Glarthir’s death spreads quickly but, oddly enough, no one seems overly surprised or even concerned. Perhaps he isn’t as crazy the other townsfolk say after all? Maybe this isn’t just paranoia?

The diary of a mad man. Wait, the Blades have a secret?!
“The diary of a mad man. Wait, the Blades have a secret?!”

The next night I take it upon myself to sneak into Glarthir’s house to perform one last investigation for him. While Glarthir has more books than the prison library I don’t see anything suspicious in his home. I do find some of his notes on the plot which seem to lend themselves more to the notion that Glarthir was simply disturbed and paranoid, however.

Given how fruitless looking for work in Skingrad turned out to be and the fact that I just murdered one of its residents I decide to make my way back to the port city of Anvil.

Unique? This guard has a obviously never been married.
“Unique? This guard has a obviously never been married.”

Practically as soon as I step into Anvil I catch wind of the fact that people are in somewhat of an uproar regarding a local gang of women who have been seducing men and robbing them. This town is getting interesting already! I inquire about the possibility of lending a hand to the situation and am told to talk to one of their recent victims, Gogan.

Err, I'd love to know what it is that she thought I was thinking.
“Err, I’d love to know what it is that she thought I was thinking.”

When I arrive at Gogan’s home his wife unfortunately opens the door before he does and gives me her very poignant opinion on the situation. More importantly, however, she explains that when Gogan was robbed a precious family heirloom was stolen and she’s paying a reward for its return. Gogan himself tells me that the gang often works a tavern near the docks so as to target sailors and other travelers who probably won’t be sticking around long enough to attempt any sort of retribution.

My plan is simple one. I’ll go to the bar and hope I run into one of the gang members and go along with their directions. When they try to rob me, however, I’ll resist. With any luck I’ll be able to force them to return Gogan’s stolen possessions. Fool proof if you ask me.

Wait, I'm still not following. You want my silverware set? Not a chance!
“Wait, I’m still not following. You want my silverware set? Not a chance!”

Sure enough it takes little time once I take a seat at the bar of the Flowing Bowl for a pair of attractive woman to approach me. It is more than obvious from their demeanor that these are the gang members I’m after. How many other people have fallen for this routine? I just got out of prison and have spent the majority of my free time since wandering the wilderness and I would have still been more suspicious than interested.

Faster, faster! I'm on an important mission!
“Faster, faster! I’m on an important mission!”

The women ask me to meet them at a farm house outside of the city walls later on in the night. As I arrive I’m greeted by only one of the women who insists that I get undressed for her while her other two friends get ready. Yeah, right. When I refuse and put my hand on the hilt of my sword the woman’s mood changes instantly, declaring that she knew this was a ruse and calling the other gang members out of hiding. They draw their weapons and lunge at me in an instance. Prepared as I am I defeat them all rather effortlessly.

Way ahead of you, baby...
“Way ahead of you, baby…”

Almost as soon as the commotion is over the front door of the house swings open and Gogan enters, though this time wearing the standard uniform of the Anvil city guard. Gogan tells that they sent me in as a semi-unwitting participant in an undercover sting operation, thanks me, and then pays me for my help. Now I’m a little richer and in good with the Anvil City Watch – I’m starting to like this town!

Apparently I need to start paying better attention to lighting when I take these screenshots. Most of these look damn horrible. Also, apologies for not nabbing any decent action shots this time around.

The Tale of Garn Chapter 7

From Garn’s recollections:

My memory of this time has faded significantly though I still fondly recall the quieter parts of my journey though Cyrodiil. Making my way on horseback slowly across great shimmering fields of blowing grass and wildflower, the fresh air tickling my nostrils, without barely a care in the world.

Another dark, rainy day in jolly old Eng... Cyrodiil.
“Another dark, rainy day in jolly old Eng… Cyrodiil.”

Not everything was so enjoyable, however, as during the several months I spent exploring and mapping Cyrodiil much time was spent in and around many of the less the desirable areas of the world – ancient, haunted ruins, beast filled caves, and bandit camps. The threat of attack was a nearly constant reminder of the deadly nature of my task.

The only good imp is a dead imp.
“The only good imp is a dead imp.”

If I recall I rode north from Bravil, past the Imperial City, and through Eastern Bruma first, finding some interesting new sites amongst the frigid forests. I then circled back around to the west and to Skingrad to record my previous findings in the area.

Along the way I hunted for my food and bedded down in the occasional abandoned camp site or amongst the worshipers at various shrines. When convenient I’d stop at cities and villages in order to clean myself up, sell my wares, sleep in a comfortable bed, and actually eat a good meal.

Sometimes when you can't find an abandoned camp to sleep at you have to abandon one yourself.
“Sometimes when you can’t find an abandoned camp to sleep at you have to abandon one yourself.”

While at this time, not knowing much about my own origins nor my current status regarding the assassination of the Emperor, I continued to avoid much conversation about who I was and what I was doing. Still, a traveler spotted one of my maps while I was paying for an inn room and inquired about my profession. Another man, an alchemist by the name of Sinderion, propositioned me with an additional task – a hunt for a specific, exotic herb that grows near water all around Cyrodiil. Given that I was already going to be exploring and, from time to time, gathering herbs I accepted his offer.

I had actually obtained the Nirnroot quest much earlier but didn’t see Sinderion until around this time. I already had enough Nirnroot for the first three parts of the chain and gathered the rest during the rest of my journey.

Say hello to my little friend... summoned daedra!
“Say hello to my little friend… summoned daedra!”

I continued west past Kvatch, though I didn’t stop to pay a visit at the city proper. There many strange goings-on in the area immediately surrounding the city and there were even rumors speaking of an evacuation. Some rumors spoke of such unbelievable things as Daedric invasion but many, more believably, suggested a plague. As I neared the city something was obviously a miss so I avoided it for the time being and continued onward, along the road, to Anvil.

Another pleasant day in Kvatch.
“Another pleasant day in Kvatch.”

Something in Anvil jogged my memory. I had definitely been here before but further recollection was beyond me. I spent only a few hours in the town before heading out into the northern wilderness.

Hey, I can see my house from here!
“Hey, I can see my house from here!”

Making my way back east through Kvatch and into Chorrol I encountered quite a few deadly beasts such as trolls, minotaurs, and of course various species of imp. There were some very tough fights around this time but I was able to get myself out of every bad situation, thankfully.

I avoided spending too much in Chorrol itself, only stopping at the local Mage’s Guild to purchase some new spells. Weynon Priory, where I was supposed to meet Jauffre regarding the Emperor, was close by and I wanted to avoid it for now.

Winter Driving Advisory: Poor visibility ahead.
“Winter Driving Advisory: Poor visibility ahead.”

I continued back through Bruma, this time traveling through the northern mountains before stopping at the city itself. Around this time I stirred a great frost titan while exploring the area immediately around a rocky cave, and had to run for my life. The frost titan, in a rage, pursued me all of the way back to the city where it took a large number of the city’s best men to finally slay the beast. Quite scary.

Frost titans are some tough mofos. I ended up kiting him into Bruma hoping the guards would dispatch him but when they appeared to be losing I upped the cheese factor a bit and drug him directly into one of the guard barracks rooms in the castle. A dozen pissed off guards including a captain resulted in almost instant death.

Bullfighting Bruma style.
“Bullfighting Bruma style.”

I made my way through upper Cheydinhal, past the Imperial City once more, and make a quick stop at Bravil once again. The cartographer was delighted by my progress though I wouldn’t let him take any of my work just yet.

I continued south through the city of Leyawiin, along the coast, and back north through the deadly swamps until I arrived back at the Imperial City, my journey complete.

Sinderion has the good shit.
“Sinderion has the good shit.”

Of course, I made one more trip to Bravil to receive my payment and then headed back to Skingrad to present the alchemist with his “Nirnroot”.

Although this lengthy undertaking didn’t help jostle my memory as much as I had hoped I certainly had much in the way of opportunity to improve my combat skills, both in magic use and in swordsmanship. Feeling stronger, the next step in my preparation was to earn more funds. Most cities had odd jobs to take so figured I’d start there, in Skingrad.

Riding off into the sunset.
“Riding off into the sunset.”

I managed to make it to level 15 by the time my quest was over. I was shooting for more along the lines of 20, though riding on horseback for most of my journey allowed me to avoid many of the confrontations that would have helped me skill up. The trade off was worth it though as I’m dying to kick this Oblivion campaign into some of the more interesting stuff – you know, actual quests and the like. 😉

The Tale of Garn Chapter 6

From the journals of Garn:

With my various bags now bulging with loot I decide to head back to the city to lighten my load a bit. I figure that it might be best to head for the bustling Market District of the Imperial City to barter my wares – more shops, more money, and less of a chance of anyone raising an eyebrow about the origin of any of my goods. I head to a seedy little tavern in Skingrad to drink an ale and plot my course. With my tattered road map rolled across the bar I plan out a path that will take me through some more territory I’ve yet to explore before eventually reaching the capital.

As I had hoped my journey takes me through many relaxing scenes dotted with the occasional desolate ruin. Beautiful fields of tall, blowing grass and wild flowers, herbs and other valuable spell reagents abound, and not even as much bother by the usual variety of wild predators that I seem to always be finding myself having to fight off. A peaceful day so far.

Ewwwwwwww...
“Ewwwwwwww…”

Eventually I come across a small but well stocked bandit camp nestled in the hills and decide to go on the offensive. I drop some of my bags by a boulder and creep stealthily into their camp, killing them one by one as quietly as possible, looting as I go. Don’t get me wrong, these bandits would have attacked me if they had spotted me first and I would have ended up fighting them regardless but my attitude towards killing has definitely changed since the day I left my cell. My blade just feels right in my hand and I’m starting to forget that I ever went a moment without feeling the tickling warmth of a flame spell dancing in my palm.

Time for some Sam Fisher style shit!
“Time for some Sam Fisher style shit!”

As I travel further I eventually encounter a small compound nestled in a valley in what seems like a very isolated location deep in the forest south of the Imperial City. It includes a large, perhaps once fairly nice house and a small but well constructed chapel. This place, whatever it once was, has evidently gone unused for many years as the buildings are strewn with debris and the dust in the air is almost chokingly thick when stirred. This does seem like it might be a nice place to clean up and call home though. Actually, I really could use a base of operations. Somewhere to stash all of the belongings that I have been lugging around this entire time. I don’t know how comfortable I am attempting to lay claim to this place though.

What kind of freaks live here? It reminds me of my old boarding school.
“What kind of freaks live here? It reminds me of my old boarding school.”

I eventually journey north and find The Gold Road that runs between Skingrad and the capital. As night falls I find myself increasingly stalked by the threatening sounds of cracking twigs and other signs of movement just off of the sides of the road. My attempts to inconspicuously observe the source of these noises takes more and more of my time until I’m watching the tree line practically the entire time. That’s when I spot it – a large troll attempting to shadow me. I waste no time and blast it with a shot of flame before drawing my sword and shield and dashing towards the beast. After a quick battle I’ve bested him. Feeling pretty good about myself I continue down the road.

Suddenly, as a traveler that I had passed heading the opposite directly down the road slips out of view I find myself in the midst of an ambush. Another troll and, of all things, another gargoyle! I concentrate on the troll and quickly dispatch it but the gargoyle is relentless in its attacks and my attempts to dodge them begins to fail with increasing frequency. The traveler I had passed, perhaps hearing the commotion, runs to aid me, and another coming down the road towards us draws his blade and joins the fray. I summon a scamp minion and charge towards it.

Everyone in this picture died at least once. It's official, I hate gargoyles.
“Everyone in this picture died at least once. It’s official, I hate gargoyles.”

The gargoyle is far too powerful. It quickly slays both of the travelers who attempted to aid me and has me on the run. Luckily I’m greeted by an imperial guardsman on patrol. With his assistance I’m finally able to whittle the creature down and dispatch it.

This was truly an epic fight. Not only did the Gargoyle kill both travelers and my scamp (multiple times) but as I ran up the road hoping to bump into a guard I was attacked by a spriggan and its bear minion as well. The guard actually took quite a while to dispatch the gargoyle. Wow… and on a major road too!

I finally reach the city and purchase a room for the night. The next morning I head into the busy streets of the Market District and peddle my wares to a variety of shopkeepers. By the time I’m done I’ve amassed several thousand gold. While I’m far from wealthy I’m certainly no longer in need of scraping together the meager profits from hunting mud crabs. In fact, with my gold pouch in hand I head over to the Office of Imperial Commerce where I hear they have a few vacant city houses for sale. After some careful consideration I decide to purchase a small house on the outskirts of the Waterfront District.

...and I live in a shack down by the river!
“…and I live in a shack down by the river!”

The neighborhood, while fairly rundown and low class for a part of the Imperial City, has its charms. For one, a great view of the lake. One could also swim the short distance across said lake to quickly reach the area south of the city. A admit the house itself has few amenities but I prefer the idea of owning my own place to that of crashing someone else’s house, seemingly deserted or not. The shack affords me a regular place to sleep while I’m in the area and, more importantly, a place to store my loot. I have plenty of loot as well, as I’ve yet to decide what to do with the majority of the magical items I’ve found throughout my travels so far. While many of these items are potentially worth quite a bit on the market they may be more valuable for me to keep around in the long run. With such an expensive collection locked away in my meager shack I make it a priority to spend several days repairing and securing my new house.

My house is entirely full of other people's stuff. Rent-A-Center eat your heart out!
“My house is entirely full of other people’s stuff. Rent-A-Center eat your heart out!”

Soon enough it is time to head back out onto the road. I journey south down to the quiet port city of Bravil. At least I thought Bravil was quiet – as I near the front gate I arrive on the scene of a massive fight between an unusually large gang of bandits and some traveling adventurers. I’m quick to join in but not quick enough to save the adventurers, unfortunately.

I theorize that this unusually large random battle was made up of a chance combination of 2 or 3 separate groups of bandits and 2 or 3 traveler NPCs.

Have at thee, foul practitioners of banditry!
“Have at thee, foul practitioners of banditry!”

I head into the city, visit a couple of shops, swing by the Great Chapel, and just generally take in the sights. While walking the streets I bump into a Breton scribe who, recognizing my garb to be that of an adventurer, offers me a job. He claims that he’s a budding cartographer and needs someone to scout out the locations of all of the ruins, caves, shrines, and other interesting landmarks around Cyrodiil. He offers me a flat fee per location of note discovered.

While the Breton’s fee isn’t remarkable it is steady work and I’m hoping that the long, hopefully interesting trip will present me with many opportunities to improve my skills and perhaps regain some of my memories. A trip of self discovery, perhaps? He offers me writing utensils and parchment which I place along with those that I already use for my own personal maps and, of course, this journal. I purchase a horse from Bay Roan Stables and, as quickly as I arrived, leave Bravil to begin my journey.

Where I keep my stuff.
“Where I keep my stuff.”

As I head north I take one, long last look at the White Gold Tower of the Imperial City and reflect upon the last wishes of the Emperor. I will embark upon his quest soon enough but first I must complete my own tasks in order to prepare for the possible consequences of facing his Blades. I briefly wonder what kind of debates and discussions are taking place in the great halls of Cyrodiil regarding the future of the throne. I wonder if Baurus, the only surviving Emperor’s Guard, reported what I had told him the emperor said about his heir. Did the powers of the empire wait impatiently for my arrival – did they even know of my existence?

Obvious to most Oblivion players but this cartographer’s quest doesn’t actually exist. I just made it up. Why? Just felt like it.

I think I’m too anal to not have all of those little icons all over the map like they should be. “Discovering” them is basically what I’ve been doing up to now anyway, I might as well go all out and indeed it should help bolster my levels before embarking on any real quests. As an added bonus it should make traveling to them when I actually feel like I’m capable of doing more dungeon crawls a breeze.