The stories so far, Edited and ready to roll. Options

[Troika]

OK, this thread will contain any and all stories that are posted on the geocities site and labelled as edited. These babies we don't have to worry about until it actually comes time to stick em in the game.

I will sort out this thread... in other words, please do NOT post up stories yourself... it could lead to multiple copies which could prove problematic later.

Also, please keep posts in this thread to a minimum. This is mainly just a place where people have quick and easy (although not necessarily organised) access to the stories already finished with.

[Troika]

Section: Founders' Fates

Written by Unknown (raithen)

The Known Breton

More specifically known as ‘The Lost Friend’


Raithen Arthat… now there is a name I have not heard for a long time. A curious fellow acted like he was the personal friend of everyone. You could walk into a classy bar, and might call you over, order you a drink, and begin discussing the daily events. Everyone who was someone knew Raithen, well, at least in his mind. He though like that, and although many people in the province of Morrowind knew him, he was often reminded that that is no longer where he was.

I am here to tell you the tale of this fellow, an interesting tale for all those willing to listen. It begins in a small town in High Rock, a town that cannot be named, for Raithen never told any more then this, and most of his family is dead by this time. He wished to become a wizard, and practice the art of magic. So he traveled to Summerset Isle, hoping to enlist in a mage’s guild, or magic school of some sort.

After training and learning from a group of mages, he came to be in the Dunmer province of Morrowind. He nestled down in the city of Vivec, on Vvardenfell, to study the ancient race of the Dwemer. This, evidently, made him rich. He learned a lot from the remains of the Dwarves, even that he should live his life to the fullest, as things will pay off in the end. How he learnt this remains a mystery. (Some say he translated some ancient Dwemer fortune papers, though the evidence is limited.)

Taking the advice of the Dwarves, he traveled to Cyrodiil. And his fortune was fulfilled. The house he bought in the capitol of the province held some mysterious secrets. It looked like a normal manor, extravagant, old, used. But this one was different somehow. One evening, he was strolling to his library for some reading, when he stepped on a lose board in the study. He called for his maid, whom he asked to call for a carpenter. As she left, Raithen looked into the hole. What he saw caught his interest. It was a book; he reached in and grabbed it.

It was a fictional book, of at least one hundred years old. Some say this is what triggered his sanity to finally go over the edge, but not yet. He read the book, it told of tales of a portal. A portal into another world. It also told that this portal could be found in one of the ancient ruins of the long dead race of wild elves. He regarded it with curiosity, and read it over and over again, and he always kept the book in a breast pocket.

Another day came with another happening. A fellow, an odd fellow, odder then Raithen himself, approached him. He asked Raithen to found a library. And after the fellow had given him the entire details of the library he agreed. He then contributed most of the books he had written to the library, he kept some for personal use.

After basking in his own glory for several years, his sanity finally gave out. He told his closest friends that he was going to go for a hike across the empire. He went out alone, with nothing but rations, camping equipment, and his horse. He was gone for two weeks.

He came riding his horse back into town at full trot. Shouting, “I’ve found it! I’ve found it!” He rode his horse into his own stable, and before anybody could shout something at him, he was already inside. He kicked his maid and servant out. Then he locked all his doors and windows, then boarded them over.
He was there for three days, and when his friends tried to talk to him through the door, he just yelled useless ramblings at them.

One night, Raithen finally came out of his house, in darkest night. He had a pack slung over his shoulder, and he made his way to his horse. There was one Imperial guard who saw what was going on, but before he could catch him, Raithen was already trotting into the night. But he dropped something from his hastily put-together pack. The guard, named Celcious Cavreen, picked up the last, tattered remains ever to be found of Raithen. It was the book, the book that caused all this madness.

Raithen was never seen again… Some say he went back to High Rock under the name Nehtiar Tahtra, others say he died alone of natural causes. But the most popular seems to be the most imaginary; he found a new world, a new dimension. Of course, this is completely false, as Raithen Arthat was completely senile when he wrote this in his journals.

Whatever it may be, keep your eyes out for a wizard named Nehtiar Tahtra. That just may be someone you know more then you know…

***Information taken from various journals and diaries of Raithen Arthat.
Many pieces done by Raithen Arthat can be found in the library of F’Ruum. We encourage you to read them.

This post has been edited by Troika: Mar 13 2006, 05:47 PM