Today in Cyrodiil, spoilers version, TES: 4 Oblivion character accounts & stories Options

[Renee]

Hello people, and welcome to the Chorrol > Oblivion Spoilers > Today in Cyrodiil thread, a place where one can write all about their charcters in TES: 4 Oblivion, and include spoilers in the story. I realized that the other Today thread is in General section, and this new character of mine is going to have a lot of spoilers in her story, so here goes.

Let's meet my new one!

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Morndas, 2:12 AM, Last Seed 27, 3E433

"Pale skin.... snotty expression," says the putrid voice of a dark elf, somewhere nearby.

The captive woman awakes slowly.



"Yo're a Breton", continues the voice ..."the masters of magicka, am I right? Hmm?"

"What?" the captive calls out.

"Yo're nothing but a stuck-up haahlot, with cheap pahlor tricks. Go ahead! Try yo'r magicka in here! Let's see you make those baahs disappear!"

"You know of my magicka? And how?" the captive is now confused. She does know some 'magic tricks', but her knowledge is limited to just a couple of minor spells.

"Ohhh what's the mat-ta? Not so powerful now, are you Breton? Yo're not leaving this prison 'til they throw yo'r body in the lake! Ohhh that's right, yo're going to DIE in here, prisoner. ... Yo're going to die!

Joan of Arkay, the aforementioned 'captive', begins to remember what happened to her. The faire she had attended. The challenge of her faith by a non-believer. The subsequent argument which had turned ... nasty.

"A Redguard had then come to my assistance," she remembers. "A sweet-talker, that one. Guards made a showing, the fight did gather with persistence..."

Beyond this, Joan cannot remember the rest. How did she wind up here? In a jail cell? ...

As she tries her memory, she suddenly hears voices. Footsteps. A group apparently is approaching her cell. "...we don't know that sire," says a woman's voice; a fellow Breton. "...the messenger only said .... "

"Nooo they're dead. I know it," says a man. His voice sounds deep and familiar.

"Whot's this prisoner doing here? This cell is supposed to be off limits!"

"Usual mix-up at the watch.... I ah..."

"It doesn't matter, let's get this gate open. Prisoner! Stand over by the window," commands the female Breton.

"I .. but I ..." Joan stammers.

"We won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way!"

"But it was not of my intentions!" protests Joan. "I was merely one bystander caught up in needless challenge!" her voice is strong. Resilient.

"Prisoner, stand over by the window now," says a male soldier. "Do as you say, and you won't get hurt."

At these words Joan concedes, and finally does as she is told.

"Stay put, prisoner."

Joan of Arkay is not prepared for what is to happen next, as the Emperor himself enters her cell. Emperor Septim, leader of all Tamriel. His bearing so regal, his clothing so colorful. His presence both overbearing and unexpected, fills Joan's cell. She can barely breathe. Uriel Septim VII is in my jail cell? Joan of Arkay thinks she might be in one of her bizarre dreams, only this one's much more real.

"Yooooou", says the Emperor "I've seen you. Let me see your face," he says, getting closer to Joan. "You are the one from my dreams...."

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3:20 am

"... as for what you have done, that is not what you will be remembered for..."

The Emperor rambles about how he's seen her before. He seems to know her, and obviously, this leaves Joan stunned. Surprised. Surprised at this interruption of her jail sentence. The Emperor has apparently been targeted, she learns, and all his sons have been assassinated. A secret escape route which starts in her cell is being utilized, and the entire group now leaves her cell, after one of its stone walls slides into the floor.

"Stay out of our way, and you won't get hurt," says one of the soldiers as they all slip by.

Joan of Arkay initially obeys this command, even as the secret wall does not rise back up, leaving a large hole in the wall. I must serve my sentence, she thinks I should not leave. To end one's jail sentence early would not only be considered dishonorable, it would be illegal. But did not the Emperor himself provide every reason to doubt my captors? ... Hadn't he said (in so many words) that my sentence would now be pardoned? These are not ordinary circumstances, then.

Joan can see her jail cell (the iron door itself) is still locked, and she initially thinks of calling the guards so they can move her to another cell. But after much time, and a bit of hollering, no guards come. Nobody shows up. During all of this, the dark elf still stands in his cell across the hallway, silently watching her.

"What do you make of that?" Joan calls to him. "The Emperor and his personal guards just traipsed through my cell! ... How can this be?"

But he does not answer. Perhaps he is just as surprised as she is.

"Well, it cannot hurt if I follow a bit down this passage," Joan rationalizes. "If I get caught, so be it. The door is opened, as the expression goes. And did not the Emperor himself admit he had seen me within his dream?"

Dreams. The dreams. Had the Emperor been having the same dreams as she? Joan of Arkay's curiosity is piqued at this. She now makes her way out of her former jail cell, and down a dark, sloping passage towards her destiny.

This post has been edited by Renee: Feb 3 2021, 07:27 PM

[Renee]

Sundas 6:23 am
Heartfire 16, 4E438

Days Passed: 21

Health: 60
Magicka: 90
Fatigue: 145


"Well met".

"Excuse me. Might I beg pardons of ye?"

"You need to see Ugak if you want to buy a horse. She's inside."

"Oh, of course. Silly me. They don't make a stablehand handle all the gold, after all," Lady Saga says this, and then immediately regrets saying it. "I mean ... um..."

But Tilmo the stablehand does not seem to notice any implied insult. "Farewell," he says brightly, on this fine sunny Sundas.

With over 600 gold in her pockets after just three weeks in Cyrodiil, Saga is already seeking purchase of a horse. But she is not sure if she has enough gold, yet. A horse will be important, in the days and weeks ahead. Important for survival.

Before leaving Cyrodiil four years ago, she remembers the wilds had become somewhat overrun with greater beasts. Trolls, bears, dire wolves, that sort of thing. Her magic and combat skills had simply not been sharp enough. Now that she's back, she's realized over the past few days that she has yet to see any of these menaces, even after a two-day long journey from Anvil to Skingrad. But that doesn't mean the beasts aren't still around; perhaps it's due to the fact that she stayed on the road (where it's safe) that she's made it to Anvil in one piece.

There's a chance that the odd population explosion of dastardly beasts several years ago has been tamed by other adventurers, Imperial patrols, and the like, but Saga's taking no chances.

The day before she had shown up to the Skingrad Mage's Guild, and found a woman named Adrienne Berene in charge of the Skingrad chapter.

"I trust you have a good reason for interrupting me!?" Adrienne had scolded at the blonde wood elf who had shown up way too early in the morning.

"Absolutely, fine deb. I am Lady Saga, prospective associate, seeking companionship with this chapter of yours. I am new here in Skingrad.--"

....but Adrienne had cut her off....

"Hmmm? what? I'm rather busy right now," she had said, despite the fact that she appeared to have just woken up. "Oh, is this about joining the Mage's Guild? I suppose I could spare the time, if necessary."

Off to a rocky start, Adrienne had then given Saga her first task: find out what happened to Erthor, a rogue mage who had recently vanished.

"Erthor?" Saga had asked, surprised to hear his name once again. Last time she saw Erthor was in Valenwood, almost four years ago. "Erthor? ... You did say Erthor, right? Well of course I would love to suss him out." Saga had smiled slightly. "What sort of recalcitrance has he gotten himself into this time?"

"Excellent. I just don't have the time to search for him again, but I do need to consult him about some notes he borrowed. You might want to ask around, and see if anyone can be of some help. Let me know when he's back, and you'll have your recommendation."

"Ask around?" Saga quipped. "I do not think such a diversion will be of necessity. I think I know exactly where he might be hiding," she had said slyly.

And so now here she is, on this fine Sundas morning. A Sundas which could not be any finer, Aerin thinks to herself, before entering the shack where all the money gets exchanged.

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9:46 am

"I've killed far worse than YOU."

"What? Killed far worse than you...what sort of a greeting is that?"

Even for an orc, that's a pretty rude greeting, Saga thinks, and then she thinks that perhaps she should be a little rude in return. But then she corrects herself. She's here to do business, after all. She can be in and out in five minutes.

"You want a horse? I can sell you one. There are no finer Bay horses than those sold by the Grateful Pass Stables," Ugak gra-Mogakh now answers, much more bright and friendly.

Well that is better. Perhaps she didn't sleep well.

"I am not sure I have the coin, as of yet."

Ignoring Saga's hesitation, Ugak breaks into her spiel. Her sales pitch. Ever since coming to Cyrodiil and landing this job, one of her favorite moments is when she gets to try to sway a customer. "Our Bay horses are faster than the Paint horses and tougher than the Chestnut. You'll be proud to own one."

Her voice is confident, her technique refined, and over the past several years it's been rare that she's lost a sale. Who would dare try to swindle an orc? .... She brings in thousands if not tens of thousands of gold to Skingrad every year, and feels momentarily proud to be considered to be not only an orc, but a trusted citizen, one who is good at her everyday tasks.

"And the price? A thousand gold? Well I am afraid I have not got that!"

"You mean you're too poor?" Ugak accuses. "That's a fair price for this horse!"

"Yes I know..." Saga nearly stammers, realizing that orcs are the worst when it comes to temperance. Ugak's mood could turn ugly, Saga realizes. "...I was just ....um... seeking prospection. That a horse could ... um ... be bought? And for how much? I have not the coin as of yet, but in a few days--"

"STOP ... TALKING!" Ugak scolds again, really annoyed now. Damn little elf she thinks, but does not say.

Over the past several years, Ugak's little problem with customers and rudeness has been addressed so many times, she's lost count. But she's getting better at not being rude. And this is part of her job, of course. And she's good at her job.

"I will .... show myself outside, then."

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8:15 pm
Hours go by, and stars begin glittering in the sky by the time she finally finds the place she believes Erthor might be hiding. He's been caught in here before, after all. Saga remembers there were a group of Standing Stones nearby, and once she sees these stones, she gives herself a little pat on the back.

"No trolls. No bears. No giant wolves," she says to herself.

She's made it here safely. Once she is actually inside of Bleak Flats Cave, she thinks she will be okay. Not only has she got her bow and plenty of arrows, but she's got poison, and lots of it.

"Has Erthor been up to his old tricks again? Creation of zombies?"

She does not remember whether or not zombies can be affected by poison, but assuming they can be, she'll have no problem dealing with these menaces. On her journey to Skingrad, she collected many samples of nightshade, peony seeds, sacred lotus seeds, and even wisp stalks (inside of Cursed Mine). She had been able to make many poisons, once she made it to Skingrad.

"Alright Erthor, you bugger. Here I come. Remember me? Remember who you left behind four years ago? Well here I come...."

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9:09 pm
Bleak Flats Cave. Now that she's actually here Lady Saga puts on an extra air of caution, as she suddenly remembers that four years ago, this place had been rumored to contain a powerful vampiress named Eradication or something odd like this. Vampires? Zombies? ... Saga is taking no chances. She crouches down, and has her bow ready, an arrow already poisoned to damage one's health.

"Ohhh I do wish I had not slacked on my magic over the years."

Saga remembers back to the year 433, when she had plenty of magic within her grasp. After years of disuse, this is no longer so. She tries but simply cannot remember the process for casting a life detection spell, or unlife, as it might be in this case. She can't even cast a Light spell anymore, which means she must occasionally brandish a torch, despite her superior elven eyesight*. All she remembers are a couple of healing spells, and she only remembers these because they are the spells she had been occasionally casting, if a bee stung her or a rabid animal had attacked in Valenwood.

Oooooooohhhh eeeeeee

Her skin crawls as she hears one: a zombie. Definitely a zombie. But where is it? .. Saga creeps forward ever-so-slowly, and suddenly sees it, dead ahead! It's a mere shape amongst shadows. Saga think she might have a clear shot, but a large stalactite in front of her partially blocks the way. She waits for the zombie to move. When it finally does, she moves slightly...

OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!!!!!!!

She realizes she's been discovered!** In a moment she gets up and runs back towards the cave's entrance, while the rancid being behind her begins pursuit. Saga then stops, turns around, and aims her bow, slamming the zombie with a poisoned arrow. But this does little to dissuade the zombie! .. She switches to her steel mace as the zombie closes in. plicthhh plick!! the spikes of the mace barely seem to make a dent. Saga moves around. She dances from one spot to the next, clobbering the undead here and there. The undead slams her with open palms in return, bringing her health down in large chunks. It's like the Year 434 all over again she thinks wildly, realizing she might get killed, and all for a stupid Recommendation.

As she runs outside of Bleak Flats to heal herself, Saga curses her task.

"Erthor. You sorry twit. I will get you, you sorry little twit."



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This post has been edited by Renee: Dec 6 2022, 04:54 PM