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 - Indeed, you might say Guilbert has metaphorically taken his warhammer to Gwen's piggy bank! Ah well, thirteen days left now before that fat deposit comes in again!

I've a feeling this won't be the last we see of Earana. She'll be back!

Grits - Did they have towels in the Third Era? I don't think they would have helped the ballgown situation, to be honest. Nothing to do but endure the stares until she can change!

Sheets are always fresh in Ceidwad's house! However, it's known that medieval beds were not always the most hygenic, even in the aristocracy (I base Cyrodiil on medieval Europe; I find it's pretty similar in many ways). Maybe the Mages Guild ought to look into hygeine solutions like using frost spells to kill vermin, like Jerric!

Next up: Gwen has a day off and shares in a game of Colovian poker, and Harald Steel-Quill tells us an interesting historical anecdote about Pelagius the Mad. Note that this will be my last update for some time. I'm starting a new job soon, and I want that to go well, so I may not update for a few weeks. I'm sure you're all sad about this.

Rain’s Hand 3, 3E430 – Chorrol Mages Guild

2 P.M.

It has been a day of leisure thus far. As a result of retiring late last night, I did not rise until 10 A.M. For the first time in about two weeks, I have bathed, and, by Azura, was it ever needed. It had been on my mind to bathe for some days, but the combination of the rain and soiled bedsheets here were the last straw, and left me feeling like one of Namira’s wretched creatures. Guild halls are one of the few public places in Cyrodiil where one can bathe, as inns and the like generally lack the coin to install such facilities. I was able to get into the hall’s baths this morning, unbeknownst to the other mages and to avoid any prying eyes.

My robe and red velvet ballgown are being washed at present, so I have slipped into an outfit from the common wardrobes of the hall. There has not been a female resident here for some time, so, at present, I look rather ridiculous, wearing a black & burgundy fur coat fit for a male Altmer. It at least fits me in my dimensions, if not my shape. The alternative of wearing one of Athragar’s spare outfits or wearing Contumelorius’ reserve quilted doublet would have made me appear even more of a laughing stock.

News has appeared in today’s local newspaper, the Black Horse Courier, of the confirmation of the divorce of Crown Prince Geldall Septim from his estranged wife, Martina Septim (née Montevillius). By all reports in Alinor, the Septim heir had tired of her incessant nagging and ageing face long ago, but had stuck with the charade of a marriage to appease his father, and plans to wed a minor nobleman’s daughter from Skingrad. Septim is 53; his prospective bride is 28. Cyrodiil’s nobility privately mutters its disapproval; the Emperor is said to be furious with his son in private. They are likely no different, though. Imperials have never been as good as Altmer at forming stable, lasting pairs, due to their shorter lives and ill-considered matches.

Over lunch, the hall’s members enthusiastically discussed the possible consequences of this development, and what it might mean for the Guild and Chorrol. Angalmo, gobbling down mouthfuls of bread with ham and cheese, argued that it would mean greater royal favour for the city, as a city of Colovia, and the Mages Guild. One might think that, given that Geldall is Prince of Nibenea, the other half of Cyrodiil, and a swing in favour might now occur to the Prince of Colovia (Emnan Septim, Uriel’s second-born) and thus the region of Colovia too.

Frankly, I think this wishful, at best. Everyone knows that the princedom of Nibenea is far more important to the Septims than that of Colovia, containing as it does key strategic cities like Leyawiin and Cheydinhal - bastions against Morrowind and the hordes of beastfolk from Black Marsh.*

This having been said, it would indeed be good news for the Guild were Emnan and Colovia to rise to favour, as he is a scholar-mage, educated at the Arcane University, unlike his elder brother, who, as is the Cyrodilic custom for firstborn sons, has taken the knightly path.

*Editor’s Note: The elven magister is quite right. In the past, Princes of Nibenea were known to get away with far more than an unwise divorce, such was the importance of these cities’ loyalty to the Emperor and the wealth of the Princes who acted as their champions in the royal family. Although the Emperor directly ruled and controlled the Imperial City, he traditionally delegated power in other parts of Cyrodiil and Tamriel to his trusted friends and sons, who gained a measure of political power and an income in return for swearing allegiance to him. The cities of Nibenea (Cheydinhal, Bruma, Bravil and Leyawiin) and Colovia (Chorrol, Skingrad and Anvil) in turn expected their Prince to represent their interests in Cyrodilic politics. The Emperor generally remained more powerful than the Princes, with control over the legions and royal treasury. At various times, Nibenean and Colovian Princes plotted or attempted rebellion, but competition between the two regions, together with the Emperor’s control of the legions and the loyalty of certain Cyrodilic cities, like Bravil and Skingrad, to the Emperor, always resulted in such rebellions failing, sometimes spectacularly. Nonetheless, the Princes retained political power and the Emperor could not afford to alienate them, as the threat of rebellion and unrest could destablilise the province, leaving other provinces of Tamriel to think of making mischief of their own. This meant that they were able to get away with a lot.

It is said that, whilst King of Solitude and Prince of Nibenea, Thoriz Pelagius Septim, later Pelagius Septim III – the infamous Pelagius the Mad of which much of interest has been written – out of some demented insanity ordered his emissaries to interrupt a session in the Elder Council Chambers in a most inappropriate manner. Wearing only their feather-adorned hats and loincloths, the emissaries are said to have snuck into the chambers from a secret basement passageway, introduced themselves to all present and, half-naked, shaken hands with over two dozen Elder Councillors, including the High Chancellor Gaius Silventius, before all had finally been restrained by the Palace Guard. Whilst uncertain, this story, if true, would have been a breathtaking public outrage. This story was reported by at least two separate near-contemporaries, though critics suggest that the passageway never existed, or cannot be proved to have existed, as there is no trace of it in the current Chambers. The story, according to this view, is one of many stories about Pelagius which are exaggerated or apocryphal. Tsathenes’ summary, The Madness of Pelagius, mentions other tales such as this and is worth reading for further insight into the mad emperor’s life. Nonetheless, if true, Pelagius did not seem to suffer any consequence from his uncle, Emperor Cephorus, nor did he suffer any consequences for his other reported misdemeanours, of which some surely must contain some real historical truth.

11 P.M.

The guild hall met in the library this evening for merriment, wine, and Colovian poker. Contumelorius Florius refused to take part, as the devout Imperial considers gambling dishonesty, and a sin against Zenithar. It is his loss. Much entertainment ensued. Although I fell out of the game early, having little resources to commit to sport, and Angalmo displayed a passive caution throughout, Athragar, Teekeeus and Alberic Litte faced up to each other, with a most exhilarating climax. After Alberic had finally been knocked out, grumbling about the ‘Akatosh-forsaken hands’ he kept being dealt, the Argonian and the Bosmer were pitted against each other in a colossal hand which would decide who won the pot of 250 septims.

Athragar led the way with some audacious optimism and bluffing, backed up with a Fortify Speechcraft effect which I could detect, but which the others apparently did not. Initially, it seemed to work. Somehow, he appeared to have convinced Teekeeus that he would have a royal house. Indeed, in his hand Athragar had the Empr. Uriel Septim VII of diamonds and the Prince Geldall Septim of diamonds, along with an eight of rubies and a four of diamonds. The Prince Ebel Septim of diamonds, meanwhile, lay on the table.

When the Prince Emnan Septim of diamonds was turned over, Athragar began to raise the stakes, placing his septims – 125 of them – entirely into the pot. However, unbeknownst to Athragar, Teekeeus was fully in control. He had the missing Emprs. Caula Voria of diamonds in his hand, and calmly matched Athragar’s bet, safe with a solid hand of Ebel of sapphires, Ebel of emeralds, Ebel of rubies, and Emprs. of diamonds. His combined four-card trick was superior to Athragar’s incomplete royal house.

When the snap turned over, as the final card, the six of sapphires, not even Athragar’s Fortify Speechcraft enchantment could save him. He began to bluster, saying that the cards had been unfairly dealt and that Alberic, the dealer, was taking revenge for an earlier hand, when Athragar had taken 50 septims from the Breton and then, to add insult to financial injury, taken the last sweetroll from the silver bowl on the table.

Then resignation took over his face as the cards were revealed and it became clear that Teekeeus had been stringing him along. The Argonian summarily gathered up the gold and left Athragar to wallow in defeat. Angalmo fetched him some wine for his sorrows, as I heard Athragar complaining that his wife would kill him for spending his entire monthly stipend from the University in one evening.

To add to this, he will have an entirely unsympathetic ear in Contumelorius’ when he gets down to the basement. Not that I sympathise much with him. It surely requires some stupendous act of stupidity to stake all on the outside possibility of a royal house. I can only assume that some combination of the wine and the little mer’s love of competition caused this idiocy, since Athragar is an intelligent and respected member of the guild here and is by all accounts an accomplished teacher and destruction artist.

It was most hilarious tonight! It reminded me of Robért again, and the time we spent together on the White Rose. I wonder how he is getting on at the University? He must be learning a great deal from the tutors there. As content as I am at present, I long to be there. Associate life is not what I was made for. I must redouble my efforts. I have decided. Once I accompany Guilbert and Reynald back to Weatherleah, I must head for Skingrad, to acquire a recommendation from the hall there.

This post has been edited by Ceidwad: Jul 6 2011, 12:20 AM