mirocu - Warmest wishes to Lothie as he heads north for his wintery retreat. Buffy's pleased because now she knows where she can find the normally wandering dark elf at least for the next few months.

Liz - So tell us about who you picked up in the sewers! I hope you're turning the lemons of losing your saves into the lemonade of new adventures.


Buffy and I just repaired the A bomb for about the tenth time. Pretty predictable for us every 300 hours or so. Fortunately, Wrye Bash makes it an easy 30 second task.

Spent some time this afternoon accompanying Sal as he made his third attempt at reaching Cheydinhal. He'd just passed Aleswell, when he veered off the road a little, and something caught his eye. A brazier, burning with a pale flame, almost colourless, outside a cave. So, curious and still on the lookout for archery practice, he decided to check it out.

Fingerbowl Cave

It turned out to be filled with skeletons, with some necromancers hidden much deeper in. Sal and I snuck through the cave, relying on detect life to hunt the skeletons, picking them off from the shadows with a single arrow, most of the time. Sal found the skeletons less dangerous than the traps, twice he was hit by swinging maces, not having seen their tripwires. He did spot one trap before walking into it, and considering it was one of the ones that drops a series of logs down a slope, it was a good thing too. It took him a few shots, but he was able to trigger it at a distance by shooting the tripwire, then picking up his arrows once it was safe.

He only had trouble with enemies once, while fighting a necromancer and a skeleton with a bow, mainly because the necromancer's summoned skeleton kept getting in his way.


I've never been in Fingerbowl cave, made for a very interesting dungeon crawl, all those undead had me wondering if I was going to run into a necromancer around the next corner. Sal's going to be keeping an eye out for Ayleid ruins to explore from now on, he spoke to Umbacano earlier, and plans to take him up on his offer.

Samara. I made Samara

Race? Age? Pixie?

Asian. Dead. The last thing you ever see.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Nov 12 2013, 11:17 PM

OH, GOD!!

SubRosa got it! XD

Addendum to yesterday:

Ancotar has been missing for a few years and Lothran didn´t think too much of it when he visited the fort in midday. When he climbed up on one of the edges of a collapsed eastern tower, he could see something down below. Someone was laying there!!

Upon further inspection it turned out to be the missing wizard! He´d been slain by something, or fallen off the tower and died from the fall, who knows. He got resurrected anyways and then Lothran thought he´d go back up, but he didn´t. So he cast a Command spell on him and ran away but Ancotar didn´t follow. It turned out for some reason he could no longer move his legs even if he wanted to. He could stand just fine and turn around in place, but he couldn´t walk or run anymore. So Lothran ended up pushing him all the way from down below the eastern tower, around the hill and upwards. Not an easy terrain to push an Altmer wizard up on, I can tell you that!

Eventually though he´d pushed him all the way up to his quarters where he has all his alchemical stuff, so now all is well again

This post has been edited by mirocu: Nov 13 2013, 09:11 AM

Samara made Fort Homestead her home. She's got her clothes lying near her bedroll, mead and Cyrodiilic Brandy by her bed with a goblet, waiting to decorate more. She spends her days there walking the shores and napping, then heads to the city to steal from the rich.

Still waiting for a pixie, Liz A real pixie of your character this time

I gotta upload it to my Tumblr(they're used to seeing my videogame characters by now lol) and put it on here.

I'm back in the Imperial City sewers, with a new character. Didn't feel like traveling with Sal some more, so I dragged out my official game guide for Oblivion and took a look at the character creation section, the names at the end. For a while I've had a Dunmer Spellsword with a history but without a name, so I decided to see if anything jumped out at me. It did.

His name is Neven Victrix. An orphan, raised by an old Imperial mage named Serverus Victrix, who lives in Frostcrag Spire, a tower he built 50 years ago, and has lived there since, after he turned his back on the politicking of the Council of Mages and left the guild. Neven's mother came to the tower, half frozen, barely able to walk, carrying Neven, a newborn baby, in her arms. She pushed the child into Serverus' arms, said to him "His name is Neven, please..." and got no further, collapsing into a deep sleep neither magic nor alchemy could rouse her from, which deepened into death. Since then Serverus was father to Neven, and once his magical talent revealed itself, mentor also. Though Serverus tried to teach Neven to be a mage, the sword always called to him, and so his training was shared between Serverus and the members of the Bruma fighters guild, resulting in Neven being trained as a Spellsword.

Seeverus recently sent him to Summerset Isle, to purchase a rare magical tome for him, and he is returning, soon to arrive in Anvil.

This post has been edited by Callidus Thorn: Nov 13 2013, 10:12 PM

Gaaahh!! That´s basically the only Oblivion-related thing I don´t own!!

I got that so long ago. Snuggles tore it up lol

Could it be? One up against the collector





Better hurry and get one Mirocu, they're apparently increasingly rare.

1900 hours

It turned out Ancotar could move, after all! He was fighting an ogre on the ground and Lothran noticed that because he got continous messages about him getting unconscious. After helping out with that, the Dunmer decided to go through the fort again. After all, it was such a long time ago since last he did.

Nothing more worth telling. He got some minor loot from the fort but that´s it.

So Ancotar just didn't want to go home?


Of Swords and Sorcery

Anvil. The sun is rising, it's warmth chasing away the last lingering hints of mist that cling to the waters. A ship makes it's way into dock, and a single figure, a Dunmer steps onto the jetty. He is clad in armour of iron and steel, with a steel longsword sheathed at his right hip. He walks with the slightly unsteady step of one who has been long enough at sea to get his sea legs, and still walks as if he were on deck. A faint smile crosses his face at the thought. It had been a pleasant journey, if unfruitful, but he was glad to be on dry land once more. It has been nearly two months since he left Cyrodiil, and he has not worn his armour from that day to this, the captain of the ship having warned against the peril of being so heavily armoured at sea. A gentle breeze blows from the south as he makes his way towards the gate to the rest of Anvil. His nearly shoulder length light brown hair dances in the wind, as much it could, bound loosely at the back with a slender braid either side, framing his face.

Neven Victrix made his way through Anvil, the town mostly still sleeping, save for the city guards, more vigilant than they had been when he was last here. He considered dropping into the fighters guild and saying hi, but decided against it. His father would be expecting him with the book, and though he wasn't looking forward to disappointing him, Neven wanted to get home soon. He couldn't help himself from breathing deeply as he exited Anvil, savouring the scents of wildflowers mixed with the too-familiar tang of salt in the air. He set out at a swift jog, using his feather spell to ease the burden of his armour, so that it barely slowed him at all. Little seemed to have changed since he'd left, which came as no surprise to Neven. Very little changed in the heart of the Empire, he thought to himself as he jogged, seeing a Legion soldier being attacked by a rabid wolf, the mad beast all but foaming at the mouth as it tried and failed to breach the Legion plate, before the soldier ran it through with his silver longsword. Neven waved cheerfully to him as he passed, he'd always had the greatest respect for the soldiers of the Imperial Legion, ever since he was a boy.

He'd not gone far when a Khajiit wielding a battleaxe leapt out at him from his hiding place just off the road. "Your money or your life" the highwayman snarled at him. Neven said nothing, drawing his sword and casting a shield spell, it's magic reinforcing his armour. The Khajiit lunged at him, teeth bared, hissing, launching his battleaxe in a mighty overhand swing, using the weight of the axe to full effect. Neven parried, even that glancing impact jarring his arm, and sidestepped, slashing at the Khajiit's flank as he tried to regain his balance. Thanks to his feather spell he was able to move just as swiftly as the Khajiit, despite his heavy armor. The Khajiit cursed and spun to face him, only to find Neven still slashing at his flank, and launched another powerful strike. This one he did not recover from. As the axe missed Neven used an absorb health spell, feeling the slight pain in his arm ease, then slashed the Khajiit across his exposed neck, virtually beheading him. Neven cleaned his sword and sheathed it, looking down at the body as his heart slowed and his hands stopped shaking. He'd seen death before, caused it before, when defending himself from bandits like the Khajiit, but everytime it showed him something new, something disturbing, something left out of the stories of heroism. It was always an ugly thing.

The rest of Neven's trip was uneventful, only a pitiful bandit hedge wizard, with no magic to speak of, charging at Neven with a bound dagger. That fight had been over before it had begun. The only other thing that caught his attention were the vast numbers of flax flowers growing alongside the roads. He had little experience with alchemy, but his father had made sure that he knew the basic combinations for healing and restoring magickal energies. Since his father was born under the sign of the Atronach Neven gathered as many of them as he could, to supplement the products of Frostcrag's alchemy garden. Besides that he took in the scenery, as he had on his way to Anvil two months previous, captivated by the landscape after having spent most of his life in the mountains of Bruma. To him the fields of green, studded with trees and clusters of flowers growing wild was an amazing sight after years of rocky, snow-covered mountains.

It was late evening when he reached Skingrad, and he made his way to an inn for the night.

This post has been edited by Callidus Thorn: Nov 14 2013, 01:08 PM

mirocu - Aww, that's nice helping out the eccentric Ancotar, even as Lothran hears the wintery call of Bruma.

Liz - Welcome back to Oblivion. Fort Homestead is indeed a convenient location. I hope Samara gets on well with her fort-mates. Either that or kills them of course.

CT - Welcome to Neven as he debuts with a long journey back to Frostcrag.

Samara decided to explore her surroundings a bit more and found Fort Nikel. She's currently cursing her curiosity and has seen wizards and bandits fight over the fort.

Yes, he´s not heading up the mountains until Friday. In any case he has always time to help out his friends

@Callidus - I don´t know why he couldn´t walk before. The command spell should have forced him but he simply couldn´t.
Too bad Lothran´s Dunmer brother chose to kill the Khajiit instead of bribing him to like him

@Liz - I like Samara´s approach; taking it slow while not letting fear overcome her curiosity. Even if she curses it!

This post has been edited by mirocu: Nov 14 2013, 10:11 PM