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]

Before I start today's story, I will talk about my weekend first, and a dream that I had towards the end of it. It's rather interesting.

We went away for the weekend, just me and my daughter. It was a fun weekend, but also a rather exhausting one, since we joined up with a group of others who were doing some hiking in the Shenandoahs. We all camped outside for a couple days, it was a blast. By the time I got back home yesterday, I made a quick dinner, popped my kid in the tub, and then crashed. :snoring: I was out like a light. Fortunately, my kid knows how to take a bath. She's at the age that she's practically mastered bathing, so good thing she didn't drown!

Maybe it's due to the fact that I had no gaming-time this weekend, but the very last dream I had this morning was about Lady Saga. I was with Acadian in my backyard, and somebody else from the forums was also present, but I forget who this was. It's not any of the regulars, though. I have no idea what Acadian looks like IRL, but in my dream he was a stout fellow with a large round beard, and not very much hair. Acadian did not do very much, he just kinda stood there in the backyard, admiring the scenery.

The dream was about Saga, like I said. I wasn't gaming with her in this dream, nor did she simply appear as a 3-dimensional character. I was sort of telepathically communicating with her while she was not actually in my presence, and we were planning stuff together. I knew Saga is about to meet Erthor, and she told me of the things she wanted to say when she meets up with him, so I'll try and remember some of what she told me.

Oh, one more thing: Saga could write scrolls, but she could not create spells, yet. It's a rather interesting notion that I'll perhaps put into my RPing with her somehow.

Morndas, Heartfire 17
3E433 4:08 pm

Days Passed: 22

Active Quests: 13
Quests Cmptd: 3

Skill Increases: 85
Novice Skills: 12
Apprentice Skills: 9
Journeyman Skills: 0
Expert Skills: 0
Master Skills: 0

Bounty: 0
Fame: 1
Infamy: 0

Ooooooo. Ooooo. O-whooaa Oooooo.

Danger is up ahead, but yet unseen. Lady Saga creeps along in the darkness of Bleak Flats Cave, carrying a simple iron bow, and 17 simple iron arrows. Hanging from a specialized loop in her belt is a steel mace, which she often needs for backup down here. Chainmail upon her head, matched leather on her upper-body and feet. Her fur gauntlets? They're already useless after facing three of this cave's homely 'residents'. She made several potions over the past few days, and dozens of poisons, but the poisons are useless as of right now.

"Damn zombies. Erthor is going to have a grand tasting of my wrath very soon. Very soon."

Lady Saga creeps along and says this quietly, so the shambling, one-armed mess up ahead cannot hear her. Had this 'mess' once been a proper citizen of Cyrodiil? Had he or she once been an adventurer in search of gold and treasure, only to be killed down here, and later brought back to un-life? ...None of this matters now, Saga thinks. It's very important to be able to make that first shot, so the enemy ahead stays un-alerted. These menaces have lots of strength, and if she can take a good chunk of it away with a stealthy shot, she's ahead of the game.

"But you know, I cannot completely place all of my blameings upon him, for returning to his former misdoings. I am also of some blame as well. Had I not strayed him from his most persistent of wishes, Erthor might have returned to Skingrad, and remained there, as well. Did he not make it very clear to me that he MUST get back to Skingrad soon, for he has had plenty of the wilds? Something of such. And 'twas never in my plannings to make good upon my promises. How very ostentatious of me."

It is one of Lady Saga's resolutions now that she's returned from Valenwood to Cyrodiil; to make amends. Right her former wrongs. Erthor is like a spoiled child, Saga thinks. A child with a very strong desire for adventure and trickery, but not very much skill to back any of this up. Perhaps he never had a mother to fuss over him, nor a big sister to teach him right from wrong. He cannot help but place himself into dangerous situations, and with very little forethought or planning.

"Well, let us set this to rights, then."

Saga crouches down as the sound of the zombie nears. She drinks a potion which helps her detect (un)life, and aims her bow at the purple essence she sees in the gloom, 20 feet ahead.

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4:47 pm
After a fight with one final zombie, Saga sees the den. Erthor's den. The place where he has made his home. She shakes her head in disgust. All he needs (apparently) is a tapestry upon a far wall, a mildewy old bedroll, a rotten chest to store his things, and he has made this wretched place livable.

She's pretty sure Erthor has returned, but Saga cautions herself anyways, sneaking up slowly. The vampire who had been rumored to once live here might still be here, after all. What was her name? Kate. That's it. EradiKate. Saga finally remembers. In the Year 434, it was rumored EradiKate had lived in Bleak Flats Cave, after Erthor vacated. Kate had also been rumored to be a member of the Dark Brotherhood, as well. She had used Bleak Flats as a home, the rumors said, so Akatosh help anybody who made the mistake of venturing down here alone.

As she creeps into the den itself, Saga's heart skips a beat as she sees a dark figure in a far corner. Then she calms herself. It's not a talented, dangerous, but also lonely vampire, it's a rather pugnacious wood elf, who can't seem to keep himself out of trouble.

"Erthor."

"What is it, Associate?"

Saga puts her bow away, and takes out her torch.



"'What is it Associate?' Is that all you have in reply? Do not you have rememberance of who I am?"

"They're all gone?" Erthor says, hoping to change the subject and keep it changed. "I can leave the cave? Oh, thank you! I'm ever so grateful! ... You're heading back to Skingrad, aren't you? Could I.. maybe come with you? It'd be safer, I think. So, what do you say?"

Erthor has aged ever-so-slightly, just like me, Saga thinks. It seems the wrinkles around his eyes have become more a tad more pronounced. On the other hand, he's apparently still the same man in many ways.

"You have nothing else to say? Nothing on the subject of traipsing off to Valenwood with me? You sly devil. You followed me, and then went off into the forest, while I kept my sleep! That I should be much more frank than I am now with you, is of urgency and appetency. But I will not waste my time. For we each write our own dramas as we thrive onwards. And that you have chosen to make one final erring, once again, by separating off into this .... this ... wretched place, and away from your guildmates, that is the real true shame. For you are not ready, Erthor.

"You may come with me," Saga continues. "And I will protect you. I will show you the ways of proper combat, in these wild lands of Cyrodiil. Of this, I make full promise."

"Oh thank you. You're just too kind!" Erthor gushes. "I can't wait to be back in Skingrad, safe and sound."

Lady Saga turns her head, rolls her eyes, and puts her face into her right palm.

"Yes, we will go to Skingrad soon," she answers, "but might I ask you to accompany along with me, once again, while I make travellings upon these very plains and forests? It will only take a few days."

Saga smirks at Erthor, already seeing the possibilities ahead.

This post has been edited by Renee: Dec 6 2022, 06:31 PM