The Saga of Ignatius Baytor Options

[Lady Saga]

Hello, it's been awhile since I've posted here as Lady Saga. Renee Gade IV likes to clutter her character stories up into one big mess, while I prefer to post individually, as we shall see.

What I am going to be writing is a series of journal entries from a new character of mine: Master Baytor. It's okay, go ahead and laugh. He is an Altmer from Summerset Isle who has been comfortably living in Cyrodiil ever since the Great War. He learned a bit of magic in the Imperial City, and also is somewhat proficient with swords. He is a Spellsword, my first dual-wielding character, and third character to attempt the Main Quest & Civil War with. He'll be doing the Civil War. He's a Thalmor agent, trying to aid the Imperials at war, although as we shall see, the word "trying" is to become pertinent at the beginning of this tale.

And here is his first journal entry.

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Sundas, 11:15 PM, 17th of Last Seed, Year 201

Those impetuous fools! To think that they could send me to Skyrim, and then trick me into a bargaining of sorts, thrusting my inhibitions and mocking my terrantcy!

I ... am Master Baytor, Disciplinary Lord of the Aldmeri Thalmor. I have started this journal as a record of sorts, that he who might find it might also know of my tales, and how I have come to make arrivation into Skyrim. The 'impetuous fools' of whom I speak might gladly bow thy heads in shame, were they to know whom they were dealing with! I am (and always will be) one of them! Foolish degredators!

I am not the TRAITOR of whom they seek!

Not so long ago, the White Gold Concordat promised many great things: the ending of the Great War among them, as well as the joining of forces between Imperial regimentations, and the Aldmeri Dominion. All of these great things have been long decided, yet here I am. I, Master Baytor, made travels with a group of others, all of us up from Cyrodiil and the Summerset Isle, planning to make our visitation brief, and to the point. When we did make sudden appearance upon a camp of Imperial-led soldiers located not far from Pale Pass, chaos did erupt! We elves were quickly be-sieged; many of us fell. Only I and perhaps one other did survive.

An errant move on the specious foolish Imperials! We are not of betrayal, and the wrong was not righted for many many hours. Why might I be chosen for such sodden mockery, and thrown onto a cheap wooden cart along with criminals, low-lifes, and (behold!) General Tullius himself? These questionings are (as of now) un-answered by the incompetent boobs who made ruination of my first days in Skyrim.

My companions are not of presence, but I am on their side, the side of the Imperial Empire, or so it would seemingly be.

But this tale ends not yet. .. The things I have seen, the The events I have beheld, would fill tomes full of fantastical but laughably erroneous scripts, had they not have actually happened. For upon my very execution, after being branded a superfillious traitor, did I nearly commence to have my very head befallen, lopped off with an axe the size of an oxen's yoke. Yet was I saved.

I was saved.

I, by mighty voice spoken by the Eight, do require some dispensation of belief, here. Cast aside thine judgements. For what I am about to write next might very well drive you into titters and tatters of comical belly-laughings. But I swear upon the hand of mighty Akatosh that such occurances did, in fact, occur. From the very sky did a large shape devolve, and land upon a nearby stone fortification-tower. It was not to be believed. A dragon! A dragon did make ruins of the whimsically dreadful village known as Helgen. Twas not to be of belief, I must say! That such a dark force from the sky, breathing gaseous forms not be be taken abruptly, did actually appear and commenced to also attack! Many men fell by the wayside as it hopped and flew from one perchment to the next, arrows and fire lighting the sky, in hopes to take the flying menace by much lesser devices.

Yet I did make my escape! For here I reside in a small hamlet known to the locals as 'Riverwood'. All sod and dirt. Where are the great stone edifications of which I have heard?

Any-ways. In Riverwood dwell'th I, while the dragon has made its escape, flying off into the day's sky like a damnation from the planes of Mehrune's Dagon.

MASTER BAYTOR, who now seeketh his long-deserved rest

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This post has been edited by Lady Saga: Oct 28 2015, 12:02 AM

[Renee]

Bleak Falls Barrow, Part II

1:17 PM

A voice I do hear ahead! He calls and beckons out, thinking perhaps that I am one of his former bandit posse, all of whom have succumbed to the mighty powers of I. Cobwebs so thick as delicate reeds blockade my path, and one foul undertone of odor exists.

2:25 PM
How pedantic. That the very leader of that former grouping of fallen bandits should find himself ensnared amongst the webbings of a massive arachnidical being!? I have managed to free him, and off the man ran into the barrow. He made mentioning of treasures which lie ahead, and that he 'would not share them with anyone'.

A mistaking he will certainly and sorely regret, I tell you.

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Oh dreadfully me! To be of such fright! Fallen Nordic warriors who revive as undead zombies? 'Tis not of mentionings by the Jarl or his impertinous court sorcerer! I had no prior knowings of such detestations, that these zombies might become towards actuality! 'Tis a fright to bear witness of a shambling hulk of bones and rotted flesh, rising from slumber and rushing forth to slay from their very grave!

But amongst these abominations lies their former possessings as well! GOLD! Jewels and jewelries, gemstones and trinkets! Such a fabulosity of wealthe might very well rest in this very tomb, then! My coinpurse expands by the very hour.

My former Imperial City training has brought knowledge of Cyrodiilic zombies of yore, and from my very fingertips I can enflame these impestuous monsters into the very nethers of Oblivion.

Must press onwards...

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5:29 PM
That twit! The formerly-ensnared bandit whom I granted freedome has fallen to one of the very simpleton Nordinc traps: a trigger located dead in the center of the floor has caused a large wall of spikes and oakwood to speed towards, and which has slain the man. In his former possession I have located one solid Claw of Gold, as thusly described by the inane merchant of Riverwood's general shoppe. The man was not lying! For here in my very pack I have the Claw. 'Tis quite the work of art, and I must someday find a placement to set it upon, hopefully of my own domicile. ***

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Loredas, 4:20 AM

I have returned to my journalings after many many hours of adventuring. Onwards and yore dredges on this tomb of tunnelings, and my very bones grow weary, my countenance wary. My food consists of two apples, two carrots, and one fetid slab of meat. Why did the Nords of ago see fit to have constructed such a monstrosity of halls, chambers, and catacombs? So they could bugger and gouge into such walls of stone, locating Farengridd hither and Slovolsson yore?



Before me stands a most impressive sight: a heavy contraption which seems to be a portal of sorts. A second puzzle to gather my wits upon, which requires involvation of the not-so-fabled Claw of Gold, I am reasoning. After much tweaking and twisting about, I believe I have made discovery of the secrets to gain entrance through this portal.

Although not forgetting thas Stone of the Dragons mentioned by the Jarl, I now await treasures beyond this portal as not to be of belief!

Loredas, 5:18 AM

And what awaits I, Master Baytor, beyond thus portal? A set of stone stepps, which lead all the further past non-fabulous cruds of stone and earth. I am of much disappontment, as cannot be imagined. 'Tis too far to go backwards, as my desiring is as of yet, so I presseth onwards.

6:29 AM

Again, I am in error. Those aforementioned stepps have led to a massive chamber, one fit for a former King or Jarlship. Before me stands a gargantuan chest, a set of mantles, and an eerie wall which sings from the x./\=-------------------------------- /-



The master's chamber! Blimey! The undead I just defeated was like none other as viewed by myself as of yet! Thus creature could call forth his voice into a over-whelming shout!! And I did feel my innards of disorientation as the zombie shook me to and fro!!! But I have defeated him! I, Master Baytor, Dominion Lord of the mighty Thalmor, have placed Bleak Falls Barrow beneath my very boots! The creature which scorned me so now passed.

In the master zombie's possession was the Dragon-stone of which Farengar the Secret Fire Bringer has spoken of! I must make my return at once; may the voices of the Eight guide my very path!

Note: Iquoo Baytor has made it to Level 4, and will soon be up to L5 when he gets to a bed. Yes, I actually RP that beds are the only way to level up in this game.

This post has been edited by Renee: Oct 28 2015, 12:19 AM