A nice update. Please write more.

Very nice update Red, I really liked the note he recieved, it seemed very professional and I can't wait for the next part. Update soon!

Yes pleas sir....update again when you find the opportunity to do so, it´s really good!

*climbing to the pinnicle of the mountain above the town and its people, the scholar Redeus speaks*

What my people ask, my people recieve! Updates be plentiful!





I dreamed that I was running towards a cloud of smoke. It was nighttime and the dark sky was turned even darker with said black smoke that billowed out as if this was a Dwemer factory (though I had only heard about them). After running for what seemed like hours, I noticed I was clad in heavy clunking armour, and the smoke turned into an enormous burning building. Covered in fire arrows, it was sure to completely burn to the ground within minutes, and yet I ran towards it without hesitation. I had no fear, or thought of danger, but only the dreaded reality that I might not make it in raced across my mind. I drew a beautiful katana from seemingly nowhere, and held it behind my head. I got to the door and swung my sword with much force, and the door exploded into splinters and chips. I looked around the room, and saw almost nothing but fire, smoke and a spiralling staircase. I ran up the spiralling staircase, ignoring the two bodies I stepped over going up. I seemed to know exactly where I was going strangely enough.

I was about three steps from the second floor, when I heard the sound of metal bending. The staircase buckled and snapped in half and the support beam that ran through the middle of the staircase fell off the ceiling. The upper part of the staircase fell with the beam so I jumped toward the very place the staircase once connected to. I held on, with only my arms and head at level, trying to climb up. The tile floor I was holding onto wasn’t very safe to grip, and I started sliding back. I swung my left arm to get a better grip but the tiles my arm landed on snapped and slipped. I held on by my right hand, without much of a grip. I slipped and started my slow descent to the ground. My dream ended thank Azura, and I sprung up covered in sweat. I noticed the sun was out outside of my window. I climbed out of bed and dressed back up in my clothes from yesterday.

I walked out my door with the package and papers. I thought about asking Caneyelle about the whereabouts of the horse, but remembered that I had no idea how early it was. I navigated through the building, and not seeing anyone, I guessed it was quite early. I found the front door after a few minutes searching, and walked through. A man on horse back was coming through the forest with a pull cart connected to the horse. I waved, and waited for him to answer my gesture. He came closer and closer, before his horse stopped about five feet in front of me. The rider was wearing a long, thick robe that had been made completely of pelts and a strange bear helm upon his aged, Redguard head.

“You must be cold, Dunmer. Go to the cart attached to my horse and fish out the fur robe and bear helm” he was right. I had been shivering for the last few minutes as snow, which already covered much of the ground and trees, fell to Cyrodiil. I did exactly as he had said, fishing out the clothing, but noticed something strange. The cart was full of enchanted weapons. I dared not take one as I put on the robe and helm, but wondered how such treasures were found in a barren (well, my definition of barren means lacking Dwemer buildings) region such as this. The Redguard climbed off the horse and unhooked the cart, moving it away from the beast. “You best watch yourself on the ancient road and in Skull Drop, the road is full of animals and criminals this time of year, not to mention barbarians, and Skull Drop is a site often travelled to by grudge holding war mongerers and insane soldiers. Now take this horse and travel the road. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT, turn at any crossroads or intersections, because all of them lead to danger” at that moment the Redguard undid his scabbard from under his robe and drew a blade. This is my katana, Shald, and I trust that you will try to avoid using it. If you meet trouble along the road, feel its energy run through you, and become the acrobat. I’ll explain the sword when you get back, and I hope it will be in one piece” he sheathed the sword, handed me the sword and scabbard and turned and started pulling his cart toward a building before vanishing through its large door. I approached the horse.

Horses. We Dunmer are not too fond of horses. We can ride Silt Striders and other native bugs, walking or flying, but yet we seem to lack the ability to ride a western beast. I noticed the foot handles at the bottom of the, brown, thing, and put my right foot in. I slumped onto the horse and slowly moved my left foot over and down to the other, foot, thing. I hopped a little, and pushed my self onto what seemed to be meant for sitting on, and held the, brown, rope, thing. Lord Nerevar did these westerners love brown. Brown seat, brown rope thing, brown foot thing, brown horse with brown eyes. What a repulsive colour.

Great update Red, wonderfully written and had a bit of humor laced into it through the customs of the character. I especially liked this part,


Very good Red, keep it up.

Hmm, that dream is worrying. And what is wrong with brown? Oh well, you can't argue about taste. Keep the updates coming.

Sorry about the really, really, really, rediculously long wait everybody! Please accept my utmost apologizes. My computer was broken and I was forced onto a computer that lacked the document The Balance. Updates coming any minute now that my computer is up and running.

I held the rope thing in both hands, and waved it up and down three times as I had once seen a Cyrodiil guard do. The horse started moving and though it was slow, I congratulated myself. I waved the rope a little faster as I got used to the animal, and noticed why people like these beasts so much. The skill needed to move one of these is very low, and it gives you quite the height advantage. The hose sped up to what seemed like a jog and I shook unsteadily. We road into the ancient dirt road, and I was surprised by the lack of snow. The canopy of large, pined trees stopped the ground from being covered.

The road twisted and turned around enormous trees, large rocks and what seemed to be Nordic statues, but I had not yet seen any crossroads to ignore. As I rode the road got steadier and more level, with small rocks on either side of the path. I rode for a good three minutes at the horses jogging speed, when I decided to slow down. I pulled on the brown rope hard, and the horse stopped. I almost fell off of the beast because of the sudden stop and cursed under my breath. I waved the brown things twice and the beast started walking at a steady pace. It gave me a chance to look around at the Northern plants and trees, but they didn’t much interest me. After not too long, I could spot a crossroads. But something was strange about it. Something very strange.

White smoke was coming from the side of the cross roads, and I could hear voices. But that wasn’t all. A large statue of a man statue stood in the middle of the crossroads, and flowers and shrubs surrounded him. I drew Shald, my new borrowed sword, and watched the trees and smoke cautiously. “Ay! Andei! Someone’s come to pay their respects!” a voice yelled in the direction of the smoke. He was obviously Imperial. A tall, Imperial man walked out of the forest and my horse stopped dead in its tracks. He was clad in a armour I had never seen, but it looked like the armour of a high-ranking Imperial officer. “You aren’t a Nord” he said, and I interrupted before he could say anymore. “Really? I guess I’ve been living a lie” he smiled, but still looked angry that I had disrespected him with a interruption and insulted him. I sometimes tell jokes when I’m nervous, but this was self-confidence, not fear. “That’s too bad. And here I thought I saw a nice Nord women, but all along it was an ash-man” that angered me. Ash-man is a un-common racist name that is meant to insult Ashlanders, but is even more insulting to a normal Dunmer. “You could have said Dunmer, or Dark-elf, but you chose to seal your fate” I kept my anger hidden and span my sword around to show my swordsmanship. “Seal my fate? What is my fate? Killing a Dark-elf?” He drew a katana from a leather sheath on his hip.

I climbed off my horse and it walked over to some trees behind me. I knew if I fought on horseback he’d just kill my horse. Another three men came out of the forest, all armed with Claymores and wearing normal Imperial armour. “We were going to let you go if you gave us that sword and some money, but now were going to cut you to pieces” one of the three new Imperials said, trying, and failing, to spin his sword as I did. All the spells I had ever learned in my life ran through my mind, all fifteen of them. Most of them I had learned to help around the house and the armoury, but I had been taught a few by my co-worker that were obviously offensive. The one that came to mind was “Ice lord’s end”, which was a unpredictable, incredibly dangerous fireball and I had never been able to cast it before. Oh well, I guess its melee for me. “Wow, I see your soldiers are so well trained they know to try copying me. Really, give the sword spin another go while I burn your leader into ash” I laughed and span my sword from one hand to the other to mock the soldier. “Do you have any experience with a blade other than acrobat tricks?” another one of the soldiers said. “Well, considering I am an Armourer and train with five different sword an hour a day, yes, yes I do. Do you have any skills other than calling on friends to do your bidding?” I hit him where it hurts, his pride and ego. “Oh yeah? Well, how about me and you fight to the death, no friends?” I shook my head when the leader said that, and the soldiers stepped back.

Wait, you didn't think one update was good enough? Do I ever dissapoint? Like Ali did for his fans, I will use quick stricking tactics to win the crowd by rope-a-dopeing yet another update! My adjectives hit harder than a unexpected, left handed, out of a counter haymaker!



He ran at me with his katana behind his head, which I fully expected. He swung at me and I stepped to his side, kicking him in the ribs as he passed by. He gave out a large “ouff!” sound as he fell to the ground rolling. He got up quickly expecting me to attack, but I was smart enough to stay put. He circled me, pretending to be threatening, and I just watched him. He slowly walked towards me and thrust his sword, and I once again sidestepped to safety. I swung my sword, and hit him hard on the right Pauldron. The Pauldron snapped as my sword struck it, and he was left staggering. I kicked his right leg, at the outter side of his knee. He twisted and fell to one knee, but was not off guard. To prove this, he stood and span, swinging his sword. I blocked vertically, thus saving my neck, but my sword fell to the ground. I took a few steps backwards as he picked up my sword, laughing. “And you thought you could win with your cheating tactics. Kicking in the ribs, you swine” he spoke slowly, gasping, apparently his last swing helped keep him breathless. I put my hand up, still shaking from the last swing. I spoke a fast few magickal words; even though I doubted my ability to cast the spell.

Death is a very funny thing. Everyone thinks that it’s so terribly awful, but in certain circumstances they support it. Kill a person, and it’s a long time in a small cell. But kill a murderer, and there is no remorse. Either someone sees you and announces you a hero, or no one sees and no one cares. You barely even realize that you have done it. Actually, it takes a few days before you even think of it again, even though your life will never be the same. What I think I’m trying to say is though, your very first kill is the start of the end.

A fireball emerged from the air near my palm, and it soared to my enemy. I had gone far from him before I cast the spell, so it took a second for him to realise what was happening. It’s flames roared and grew as they took up oxygen, and the fire spread from his head to his toes. “BAM” was the sound it made, and he was pushed with such force that his helm came off and flipped three times where his body stood before falling to the ground. He made no sound, no yell, no cry, no scream, but the tree he hit did. It cracked, loudly when he hit it, and after he had fallen to the ground, a large crater was left where he had hit. “So that’s why I couldn’t cast the spell” I though, though I should have been thinking, “What have I done?”. I had never cast it before because casting it wasn’t needed or safe. My body knew that it was needed only in a situation like this.

The remaining soldiers ran, and ran fast. I coughed from the smoke, turned, and walked towards my horse. I climbed on to my horse and waved the brown rope three times, and it moved forward. It walked me past the statue at the cross roads, when yet again I was sidetracked. “Sir?” a strong, Nordic voice came out of nowhere, and almost startled me off of my beast. “You killed that insane Captain and have reclaimed the glory to the Nords. Praised be you!” he bowed, which looked awkward considering his steel armour, and I smiled. Hmm, it seems these Nords value that rock, and apparently I have rescued it, so maybe this ordeal will bring rewards. “Yes, but I do not do it for the praise, but for this statue to live in glory” he looked shocked when he stood up, as if I had insulted his gods. “No, no, no, no, you do not understand the task you have just completed. Those men have controlled this road for ten years, and their fathers and mothers held it for thirty years, and who knows how long their ancestors held it. They force us to pay gold to see this monument to our ancestors, and worst of all they force you to give them at least two items of value to use the cross roads. The city I belong to, Wayrain, has tried to attack them and take back what is ours, but every time the mad Imperials of Skull Drop track us and attack us. Oh, that reminds me. Where are you headed stranger?” I thought about saying Skull Rock, but I reminded myself if he’s from Wayrain and would likely try to avoid Skull Drop, there must be another way to my destination. “Wayrain, of course” he smiled before whistling, and a horse emerged from behind some rocks.

Excellent updates and a well-drawn fight scene. As I said before, this is one that I will follow with great interest.

Damnit Red, this story rocks I really love they way you go into you're character and his thoughts, really nice done as always but I think you've improved comparing it to you're old fan fictions... So I'm waiting for a update m8

*Appears in a cload of chocolate milk mix*

Sorry about the lack of updates, I just wrote like, twelve chapters that you all will enjoy. Updates ho!

Before we left for Wayrain, he searched around the tents my attacker had set up around the fire pit. We searched each tent, finding thousands of stolen Septems and many valuable weapons, armours and assorted paraphernalia. We found two old horse carts and attached them to the backs of our beasts and filled them with the stolen goods. It was funny, actually, because as we went through the goods, the unnamed Nord would say “this is my old sword!” or “this is hordurr’s staff!” and other such things along those lines. After loading our carts, we did exactly what the Redguard said not to do. He took me left on the crossroads, and then turned on to a barely visible path at a fork in the road. As we rode on, the path started to become more and more decorated. Torches coming from the ground, painted stones and the road even turned to cobblestone. We road for at least thirty minutes before we found an enormous clearing. It was covered in snow, and in the very centre a large statue of a axe-wielding Nord could be seen. The Nord cracked the brown rope hard and fast, and before I knew what this action did, I did it too in reaction. The beasts bolted forward at an incredible speed, and all I could do was hold on. He did it again and again, and his horse stayed at the speed it had been going. I cracked it twice, even though I was sure I would fall off my horse. We rode and rode before we got to the trees, and I pulled on the rope, this time not too hard, and we both slowed down. “About two hours slow riding if you want to ride slow, an hour tops if you want to speed up. I think we should let our horses get use to the cobblestone before speeding up, because we can’t stop to let them rest or heal them if they get hurt. These woods are filled with wolves and madmen because this road was used mostly when Cyrodiil was only a thought on the minds of man” He seemed to have great respect for these forests and roads, and was obviously mad that it had turned so dark.

We rode for about an hour before we could see smoke rising from the trees. “You have now passed the border to Skyrim, friend. That smoke will lead you to Wayrain, and I hope you get the welcome you deserve. I warn you though, when you decide to leave, the road we used will not bring you back to the crossroads. It is ancient, sacred and Magickal, and it is one way only. Anyways, I must be off, because my house is to the east for I hunt for a living. Good luck!” I couldn’t believe what I heard. Telvanni changing doors and warped hallways I had heard of, but a one-way forest path? How is that possible, especially for a land of swords and shields? I shook off my questions and watched as he attached his cart to mine and then rode off to the east. As I started riding again I noticed how long we had been riding because the sun, high in the sky, was now barely visible through the trees. For the last few minutes I felt like it was nighttime. Before long I could see buildings in the distance, and I heard faint sounds through the trees, which were getting less thick and some chopped down.

I rode the cobblestone path to the town, through a large, doorless stone gate with Wayrain written in square letters. The houses where made of wood and stone, and all of them had a chimney, and some had multiple ones. The town was bigger than I had expected, it was about the size of Balmora, but less organized and much more Nordic. Everyone I saw was Nordic, or a very large specimen of his or her race. All of the people just stared at me, just like what the Ashlanders did to Nerevar. I stopped my horses slow walking, as I had rode farther than my brain, with no leads to the fighting ring, or the person or people extorting it, as the people of Wayrain surrounded me getting ready to question me. Then I remembered how I could get talking instead of sitting here like a fool. “People of Wayrain!” I spoke with a confident and booming voice. “I have freed our sacred crossroads! Tribute and worship is restored!” the Nords looked to each other, with strange looks on their faces. “Our? Who are you and how do you know of the Crossroads?” a man yelled out, and people agreed with his statement by shaking their heads. “I am Ordras Morvayn, reclaimer of our crossroads and your goods!” I climbed off my beast and took out a shield and sword from the first cart. “Whom do these arms belong to?” I said, raising the items. “Uh, the sword is mine and the shield is probably Hordvjer’s” a man spoke, walking up and talking the sword. I laid the shield down until the Hordvjer fellow came and claimed it. This practice went on for an hour or two, people claiming what is rightfully theirs. During this time though, I noticed that there were at least a hundred people in this large, wooden town, how could a few thugs scare them all for so many years?

After everyone had claimed their merchandise, they hollered and yelled thanks and praise to me. Well, either thanks and praise or they were cussing at me, but I doubt the later. They showed me where to stable my horse and where I could sleep and eat, and after a long tour they went back to their jobs. Well, except for about five enormous Nords who brought me to the local and only watering hole. We sat at a large table and ordered me a Matze, demanding I tell the story of the Outlaw’s death. “Well” I started as the leaned in, waiting to hear the tale of an amazing fight. “It was more about outsmarting the oaf than being stronger than him, though I was both” they all smiled as I continued. “He ran at me exactly how I had imagined, sword in the air and brain somewhere else” they laughed hardily, I guessed they shared my insulting humour. “I simply stepped to the side and as he passed me, gave him a strong boot to the side. He tumbled over and rolled on the ground where he belonged, and I readied myself for his next try. He circled me and eventually made another strike, trying to put his sword through my stomach. I dodged to his right and swung, hitting and destroying his right Pauldron. He almost lost balance and to get his to the ground, I kicked him dead in the knee. He fell to that knee, and stood turning and swinging. I blocked vertically, but my Shald, my katana, fell from my hand. I rolled backwards twice and he picked up my sword. I raised one hand, and with barely a thought, shot a fireball at the bastard. He flew back into a tree, making a good dent in it I must say” They cheered and yelled, and one ordered me a Cyrodillic brandy. Telling that story opened my eyes finally. I killed a man.

Because I see no reason to put a huge post here, I will simply double update. Read the three paragraphs above before you read this please. Anyways, Shazaam!





I bought a bed in the local inn that night and promised the Nords I had met I would catch up with them in a few days. Apparently everything was going swell for me in the town of Wayrain, but I still did not know how these people could have lost the crossroads for so long. Did those men have connections to higher powers? Was that man an important Imperial? If he was their leader, why did he pass so easily? Was I following the rules of the Balance? What is the Balance? I was terrified of my own, racing mind. I put my head on my pillow and pulled the covers over myself after climbing into the bed in my room. My room was thin and long and kept my horrifying thoughts condensed, with barely enough room to step into the bed sideways. I was attacked by my thoughts and paranoid worries, and trying to fall asleep or distract myself failed miserably, until I drifted to sleep after about two hours of wishing my mind stopped it’s assault. I dreamed again.

My dream started with me falling, but the house I was previously in was now completely full of flames and smoke. I crashed into a wooden table, destroying the glass jars and plates that sat upon it and making projectiles of the cutlery. I heard a loud crack as the table snapped in half, and then the shattering of glass. I expected myself to be out of the running, but a voice ran through my head, calling me forward. “Go! You must get up or you will die!” I followed the voices instructions and stood. I thought for a few seconds about what I shall do in this situation, until I noticed myself floating into the air. I didn’t cast a spell, nor was I being aided by some supernatural being. I remembered the glass shattering from under me and came to the conclusion I had shattered a Rising Force potion under me. I didn’t remember getting any of the potion in my mouth, but that was unimportant.

I floated to the second floor before the potion wore off and regained my balance. I had tampered with these potions before and learned that you lose your footing going from levitation to walking. The second floor was not as smoke and flame filled as the first, but in one general area there was a huge smoke cloud. A new voice was heard, but in the smoke and not in my head. “Are you Commona Tong?” he was defiantly a Redguard, and I replied eventually. “No. Are you?” I was answered quickly and bluntly. “No. I guess you live, but don’t follow me. I have enough on my hands here without another mouth to feed” the smoke cleared and he started toward a wall. He raised his left hand, which was covered by a blood stained glass gauntlet that seemed more expensive than anything else on the Redguard. The wall exploded and I started running towards him despite his earlier instructions.

Two very nice updates Red, the story becomes more and more interesting Hope you'll post some more today...

As a moderator, it is my duty to crush those hopes and dreams

Crush them beneath another update at 4:00! Evil!

Noo...Red is following in Wolfies footsteps...hey wait, we have a new Dark Lord of the si...er...a new Dark Lord of the Chorrol.com forums...

But, I am reading the last of the st5ory now, I really like the principle of the organisation.,...so I'll be waiting4updates:P

But, dont let it be to long for them to come...

Just for that, the update is coming earlier! Congratulations! Your vocabulary wins!

I woke up and was relieved the half-nightmare was over. I lied in bed for a few minutes, wondering what time it was, until I heard a knock at my door. I swung out of bed and slammed my knee against the wall, and decided I would complain to the manager later about the lack of space. Groggy and wearing nothing but my drawers, I opened the previously locked door, and I can honestly say I was surprised. A Nord, clad in Dwemer armour (excluding a helm), wearing an enormous smile, pushed his way past me and into my room. Two Nords and a Redguard came in and ensured there wasn’t any breathing room and a Orc stood at my doorway. “My lords Dunmer, where do you keep your mead? Under the bed?” the dwemer clad Nord said. I could now recognize him; he was one of the people who bought me a drink at the pub. He searched around my room, in all the drawers and even under the bed. “No mead? No strength potions? Not even any armour? You must be stronger than I thought Dunmer! Get your robe and helm and meet us in the hall” he, and the others, left my room carrying my few pieces of equipment save my robe, shirt, pants and my helm. They even took my sword on loan!

I dressed myself quickly and ran out the door. “Ok, I’m here. Can I have my, everything back? I have some important folders in the bag you took” the Redguard threw me a large sack. Barely catching it, I examined it. “It has your bag and some assorted potions. Also, there’s plenty of room to store ingredients, loot, plunder and booty” the Redguard smiled while he talked, but his words were still unsettling. The men started walking down the hall and opened a thick wooden door. I followed, still wondering what in the good lord’s name was going on. A large, previously unseen by me Dunmer closed the door behind me as I entered, and locked the door. The room was quite large and was filled with crates and was centred with a large, eight seated table. Everyone sat down, and I did the same.

“Murder, thievery and corruption. These are the three least terrible problems with Skull Drop. Founded by Imperial exiles and criminals, the “city” was occupied by the Emperor’s men, but the citizens killed the soldiers. They took their armour and burned the bodies, claiming that they were impostors and that they were the only true followers of the Emperor. They established their commune farther, and regularly attack neighbouring towns to train and plunder. Our previous attacks, all three of them, have failed. Some of the people in our village consider leaving, many believe that their leaders are unfit to make decisions and the town’s morale is terribly low. Jorg Ravenwise, our most spiritual citizen, read the stars, and says that we failed because were leaderless, even when we had commanders. I now understand what he meant” I knew what he was about to say, so I straightened up in my seat before looking around the room. ”We were afraid to attack the lowliest of Skull Drop’s thugs, and we lost our own support. But now our star hero has come, and we can finally save ourselves. He made short work of a great warrior and is recommended by our friend Caneyelle and Jorg, but even then we cannot trust him fully. As our Nord ancestors did to prove themselves as the bodyguards of the founders of this city, he will do unto us. Prove yourself to us, Star hero, and we will trust you” great, now I must prove myself to people I hardly know, to lead an attack I didn’t plan.

Hmmmmm...why does that sound familiar? Ah its probably nothing...

Anyways great updates Red, great to see that you've found the time to add content so frequently and there's plenty of it as well. Good job mate and keep up the good work.

Hey, have yourself a for frequent updates.

The Waiting4updates line will be like the S.G.M around here eventually, only a few of us will remember what its from...well as soon as the W4O banner and such are replaced the newcomers will only know about Chorrol and W4O will be gone forever.

Ah yes, I've only joined Waiting4Oblivion in its final days. But I'll be waiting4oblivion for a while before I manage to scrape together the money needed to buy the necesary hardware to run it. (Hey, I only need to close a gap of 8 years. )

Anyway, I like the story. So I'll be waiting4updates!

El Chupaupdate! Flee the village!

After the meeting was over, some of us left the room and then the building. I finally had my belongings back and walked straight into the pub for a drink like I did every day. And then I realized something scarier than any impending battle. I had been regularly visiting the bar since I came to this Nordic land, I was wearing pelts and furs, I’m involved in a raid and my sword had a name. I was turning Nordic. My fears didn’t clear when I entered the bar either, as I knew the names of the bartender, the two waitresses and the best hunter in town and I was drinking strange Nordic liquors. I thought about drinking away my problems like the corner club drunks did back in Morrowind, but it was no use.

“Can I get you something Ordras? The usual stupid Nordic meat with the stupid Nordic fruits?” she could tell I was angry and obviously understood I was home sick. Actually, I’ve been home sick ever since I became a smith for a Nord in Cyrodiil. “Well Ingvild White Mane, I think I’ll have anything that resembles a steak. Do you have anything that resembles a steak?” she smiled as did I. “Well, we have sheep steak, but compared to Morrowind meats…” we both laughed, and I could only answer with “Touché”. I don’t know what that means, to be honest, but apparently fencers say it in that situation. Which reminds me, I love fencers, but I guess I should get back on topic.

She walked away to fetch me my sheep steak and I simply sat and thought about the trial before me. Should I even try? I came her for the balance, not for the people of Wayrain. Although, I guess I could complete my balance job, claim that to pass the trial and then consult Cheyenne about this battle. Yes, that’s the plan. Damn was I a great thinker. In twenty years, there’s going to be a song called the great thinker and fighter about me. Oh god, another symptom of Nordishness, story songs. I was so worried about my identity crisis, I didn’t notice the brute of an Orc who walked right up beside me. “I asked around town about you Ash-king, and everyone said you can pull your weight in ebony. You wanna learn how we fight in Wayrain” I knew exactly what he meant, save the Ash-king part. Have I been complimented, or insulted? Apparently he understood exactly why I was stalling. “Oh, sorry, Ash-king is what my family called a Dunmer who can easily hold his own. It’s a high compliment” I smiled and was happy to see an Orc who wasn’t a complete and utter brute. “How about you sit down here, order something to eat and we’ll talk over some mead?” oh yeah, I knew Orc tradition. They like their talk like they like their meals, accompanied with alcohol.

He ordered a strange Orcish dish and started into his proposal quite fast. “You seem quite strong Dunmer, and you’ve proven yourself worthy of high praise. We at the, unofficial hand to hand arena, think you would be a great candidate for our wonderful organization. Now, the Empire has banned organizations like ours, but its arm is out of our reach and everyone in the town could care less. For example…” the Orc stood up on his chair and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey everybody! I’m asking our Dunmer hero if he wants to join the fighting circle! Any one care at all?” most people in the pub ignored him completely, though a few people yelled things like “join! We need more entertainment!” and “c’mon! It’ll be fun!” He sat back and continued as if nothing had just happened. “This town’s economy is expected to boom after we raid Skull Drop and we’re already seeing the positive effects of you’re fight with the highwaymen. With you fighting, people will bet more money on the arena and the money will go around even more, helping the city even more. Now, we have to ask you to do one thing for us, an outlander came months ago and has called every game correctly, becoming a very wealthy man in a small city. Something strange is going on, and its not just parlour tricks or seerism. If you can find out what he’s been doing, our town will be very grateful” the food came along with our drinks, and we had a very nice lunch. I had learned much of this town just from our meal conversation, and learned how smart these strange people were.