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

[Callidus Thorn]

Well, there's not actually any spoilers in this update, but the long updates seem a little out of place in the "Today in Cyrodiil" thread, so I figure they're better off here. No pictures this time, but I'm happier with this update than the last.

Outside the Brina Cross Inn, The Gold Road, North of Anvil

The rain slashes down, a storm that has raged since the early hours of the morning. There is no thunder, but the hammering of rain on the window has awakened Arravyne, who dons his Mages robe and hood before venturing out into the storm. It's foul weather, but he needs to get to Kvatch, there's likely a branch of the Mages guild there. He spends a few moments gazing wistfully at the magnificent black steed across the yard, sheltered from the rain, and shakes his head sadly. Though Arravyne would love to take such a fine horse with him, everything from the saddlebags to the reins carries the mark of the Black Horse Courier, as does the horse itself. If he's seen riding it he would probably be arrested for theft, maybe even accused of killing it's late rider. Reluctantly he leaves the Inn, following the Gold Road towards the next city.

Arravyne looks around constantly as he walks, leaving the road to climb hills to gain a better view of his surroundings. He's looking for signs of Ayleid architecture, he's read about the Ayleid wells, and having expended the majority of his magickal energies the previous day feels their absence acutely, like a part of him is missing. He's also looking for wayshrines. Since the collapse of the Tribunal many have turned to the Nine, just as others have turned to the Daedra Lords. Arravyne worships neither, though acknowledge the existence of both groups. Fortunately both the Nine and the Daedra Lords consider this to be enough, so wayshrines will still grant him the blessings of the Nine, and the Daedar Lords will still offer tasks for certain favours. After a short while he finds what he seeks, and makes for it single mindedly. Just as he reaches it an arrow plunges into his arm.

He looks around for signs of his attacker, but his view is obscured by the thick plantlife around, and two more arrows narrowly miss him before he finds his assailant, a lightly armoured Bosmer with a bow. The Ayleid well forgotten for the moment, Arravyne calls forth a weak shield spell, before rushing at the archer, expending his remaining magicka on a trio of touch based spells that heal him even as they harm the foe. His enemy defeated and his wound healed, Arravyne takes a moment to memorise the sounds that emanate from the well, hoping it might help him find others in the future. He does not listen for long, feeling the near total absence of magicka weighing terribly upon him, and reaches into the sparkling blue mist, revelling in the feeling of the energies coursing through him once more. Gorged on magicka he makes his way back to the road, a little unsteady as he continues on his way. Before long he finds a wayshrine to Zenithar, and burns through his magicka practising a basic healing spell before asking Zenithar for his blessing, revitalizing him once more. He finds little to trouble him before reaching Kvatch, only a wolf that he dealt with by summoning a skeleton. At Kvatch, however, he found something that astonished him.

As he climbed the road to the city, an Altmer ran towards him, his clothes charred and his face twisted with terror. Something had attacked Kvatch, the Altmer claimed, daedra had flooded the city from portals and some monstrosity had led them.* Arravyne thought him crazed with terror, and dismissed his ramblings, only to hear similar tales from those people he found further up the road, living in tents, the sky above still lit by the glow of the burning city. He continued up the road as it wound towards the city, the sky grower darker as he climbed higher, the red glow strengthening to a crimson glare as he reaced the plateau on which the city was built. What he saw there beggared belief. Twisted stone that had no place being there stretched from the ground, wrought into ugly, impossible formations. Wooden barricades, their crudeness speaking of the haste with which they had been thrown together, and a handful of men clad in chainmail with white coats made grey by ash and soot. And behind them, and before the city gates, something which had no right existing at all. A gaping wound torn in the air, radiating fell power and vomiting daedra onto Nirn. The fighters rushed the scamps that were spat into existence, dispatching them with the weary ease of men who have far too much practice of late. As their apparent leader caught sight of Arravyne, he shouted at him to stay back, but Arravyne ignored him, moving for a closer look at the fiery portal.

He got too close to it, and was yanked off his feet as it dragged him in, hurling him into a dry, dead land, the air choked with soot and the stench of death, the sky lit by the same hellish glow he had thought to be from the burning city. Below he saw another figure in the livery of Kvatch, as he assumed it to be, and moved to help him, and to see a little more of this place. The guardsman dispatched a trio of scamps, aided by a skeleton Arravyne summoned, before fleeing back thorugh the gate. With is magickal energies once more depleted, Arravyne followed. He decided he could do nothing about the portal, not even understand it, but would inform the Mages guildhall in the next city, in the hope that someone from the Arcane University might be sent to deal with it. As he walked he was harvesting any plants he recognised, so far mostly aloe vera, but once he started seeing flax flowers growing along the road he collected seeds from every one he could find, along with peonies and nigtshade plants. Three times he had to fight off bandits, the worst of the fights forcing him to fight a pair of Khajiit with nothing but a club and a novices shield spell. He spent the night in a tent in one of their camps.

The next morning he continued on his way towards the next city, Skingrad he thought, but wasn't certain. Shortly after the city came into sight, or at least the towers of it did, a sight even more welcome greeted Arravyne, another Ayleid well. Arravyne rushed over to it, his hands trembling in anticipation of the return of magicka, and this time he didn't spend time listening to it, desperately plunging his hands into the mist, biting back a moan as the energy filled him once more. He made his way to the city in something of a daze, taking a few moments to collect himself before entering the city.


*I've often wondered about this, when Hirtel says "There was a huge creature... something out of a nightmare... came right over the walls... blasting fire." You can see in front of the city what looks to be the wreckage of a great gate, but the description given doesn't fit with the siege engine used to attack Bruma later in the MQ. So what was it that attacked Kvatch?