The Famous Five, Heroes and Villains of the Age of Martin Septim Options

[Ceidwad]

Welcome to my fanfic. I've been planning on posting this up for some time now. Now that I have the first 10,000 words or so down seperately, I feel ready to post some stuff up here. I hope you will all enjoy reading it as it develops. I haven't a clue how much I will write eventually, if I manage to finish it. But it will likely be very, very long. Indeed, there's an excellent chance that I'll finish writing a Skyrim fan fiction before (if) I finish this!

The Famous Five is an unusual fan fiction. It takes the form of a historical commentary/synthesised text written some 90 years after the events of Oblivion, and relies rather heavily on my own creative license to fill in some historical gaps in between 4E2, when the stories end, and 4E85 when the book is written (I should add, I have not read any Elder-Scrolls related lore works, such as the Infernal City).

This work weaves together the stories of five different characters that I roleplayed in Oblivion, and I hope to include some of my minor characters in it too. Subject to approval, it may also be nice to include some other chorrol.com members' fanfic characters in it too. It would be entertaining to see the outcome of a meeting between Luther Martinus (who you will get to know) and, say, Buffy or Teresa, for certain!

At present, I regrettably do not have screenshots; however, I hope to add some in future if and when I can get Oblivion for PC.

This is my first attempt at writing a fan fiction. I have thought about it for a while, though. I welcome critique of my writing as well as positive comments. I have not planned most of the fanfic, but have a general plan of how it will pan out. It will include actual in-game events, relationships and quests which inspired my roleplaying, and be supplemented with whatever ideas take my fancy at the time of writing.

Below is the prologue and the first entry. I plan to update every few days to a week, depending on how much I can write. This will vary. At times, I may not update for a while. I do, however, hope to persevere with this and update pretty regularly.

Happy reading!

This post has been edited by Ceidwad: Mar 26 2011, 05:00 AM

[Ceidwad]

Acadian - Thanks! Gwen could never leave Bosmer females out of her catalogue of racial stereotypes. Who knows, she may later encounter giggling, faint-smiling, lower lip-biting, bow-toting, blonde or red-haired Bosmer. And the betting is that she'll probably say they don't look much like mages.

SubRosa - Thanks for noticing the internal wrestling that went on during that episode. Very perceptive too about the spell-casting being a soothing distraction from fears and doubts. I imagine casting spells is to mages what using the rosary is to Catholics. It certainly worked here.

I felt there had to be a little pause after this quest. No way could a real person carry on with the recommendations as if nothing had happened. And the guild also needed to respond to the news as you say. The way I will describe things here is not strictly how I actually played them in-game, but they are close enough and tie up the loose ends nicely.

Grits - Good call on the leadership. I see Gwen's 'leadership' as being a product of her high opinion of herself. She sees herself largely as the equal of the more senior guild members and sees the recommendations as beneath her. She has little qualms about giving opinions to the actual Guild leadership, therefore.

Next up: With the Cheydinhal reccommendation behind her and with no appetite for further life-threatening tasks at this point, Gwen instead seeks out Reynald's impostor, with unexpected results.

First Seed 31, 3E430 – Cheydinhal

12 P.M.

No success finding Reynald’s doppelganger yet. My walk-search around town has yielded little, except some scuffs on my gold trimmed shoes.

5 P.M.

Reynald’s ‘double’ is actually his twin brother, named Guilbert, as I found out from a town guard. I have just met him. He is a terrible impostor, being totally sober (in spite of his surroundings). Azura have mercy, the poor fellow spends his days in the tavern known as the Newlands Lodge. I imagine I would be forced to take to drink just to find some escape from the intolerable conditions, not to mention the regulars.

Thanks to a tip-off from the guard, I made my way to the Newlands Lodge about two hours ago. Mercifully, it is at least quiet at this time of day, meaning I did not have to contend with the rabble of Orsimer I saw there the other day. The publican pointed me upstairs to Guilbert’s room. And, would you believe it, the Breton was the spitting image of his brother. He even wore the same style of outfit; green with blue trim and brown hose, though, unlike his brother’s, these were conspicuous for their lack of ale stains.

Not wanting to give the game away at first, I asked him what he was doing in Cheydinhal.

He replied, “Used to be Fighters Guild here in Cheydinhal, but the jobs are pretty scarce these days. Can’t even get a contract killing rats, cause any and all jobs go to the higher-ranking members. So, I quit. Been trying to set myself up as an independent, but the security’s terrible. I’ve had to sell my steel cuirass and warhammer just to keep up my tab here at the Lodge.”

I asked him if he had a brother. Yes, he said, but he had died when both of them were young.

“Guilbert,” I said, “your brother’s alive. He lives in Chorrol.”

At this, the expression on Guilbert’s face turned from one of unhappy apathy to one of excitement and wonder. His green eyes sparkled, and the tone of his voice picked up noticeably.

“He’s alive? Well, we have to go and see him at once! I’ll settle up here, and we can leave tomorrow morning for Chorrol, post-haste. I can’t believe it! I thought for certain he had perished. Thank you, stranger. What is your name?”

“Gwenyan.”

“Thank you, Gwenyan. Will you go with me to Chorrol?”

I had to think about this. Do I want to go back to Chorrol? Not really. Earana will be there, and the whole Fingers of the Mountain acrimony still hangs over the guild hall there. But, if I can survive the worst efforts of a dastardly necromancer like Falcar, then I am certain Earana would not succeed in harming me. Well, not in broad daylight, at least, with the guards watching…..

Therefore, I have decided to go with Guilbert. His brother did pay me in gold, after all. We leave early tomorrow. We will meet by the statue outside the Mages Guild.

Rain’s Hand 1, 3E430 – Roxey Inn

12 P.M.

Guilbert and I are just stopping here for a quick lunch before leaving for Chorrol. The weather is fine and the only notable incident so far has been the appearance of a wolf, which was swiftly dispatched by a passing legionary. On the road we talked about Guilbert’s family. Apparently, his mother was killed in an attack on their farm when Guilbert and Reynald were children, and he assumed Reynald had been killed too. Their father, he said, was a farmer and ran the family’s estate until he suddenly disappeared years ago.

Guilbert also asked me about my story: what was I doing in Cyrodiil? I told him the whole tale: promising mage student specialising in Restoration, unjustly turned away at the university, forced to do these recommendation quests, but frankly, at her wits’ end by this point with the feral Khajiit and rogue mages and death-trap wells and struggling bitterly to survive. Guilbert offered words of sympathy, saying that guild hierarchies cared little about the rank-and-file in the Fighters Guild as in the Mages Guild, and he knew the feeling.

Guilbert, it would seem, is a bit rusty with warhammers. He is using an old iron one, taken from the Fighters Guild as what Guilbert called ‘a farewell gift’.

When we met at the statue at about 8 A.M., he paused to give me a magnificent demonstration of his great skill. As it turned out, my mouth gaped open in laughter, rather than awe. Holding the hammer above his head, he swung it fiercely around his body in a circular motion……..and lost his grip on it, sending it flying across Cheydinhal’s cobble stones. A sheepish ‘sorry, guv’nor’ was his reply to the irate town guardsman he nearly pulverized in the process. Clearly, the lack of jobs in his guild has affected his technique adversely. I teased him about it all the way to Roxey!

Guilbert has just informed me that he has finished his plate of mashed potato and beef steak, and is getting strapped back into his iron cuirass. To Chorrol!