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

[Acadian]

Aleswell's still invisible, no thanks to Kahreem. I loved that he almost has his own cell as a frequent guest of the IC jail. Woot! A Lothran sighting on the Marie Elena!

[Lopov]

The stonework in there was smoothly pebbled and shiny, not hacked by some loony who killed deer with his bare hands.

I laughed at Kahreem's dialogue with the beggar! War veterans know a lot, Kahreem.

[Renee]

Awesome, glad you all liked it. I wanted to write more last night in fact, but I've had a blinding headache, which comes and goes all weekend.

Next story will be better, I promise. This one was just sorta 'meh', imo.

[mALX]

Things are pretty bad if one has "a favourite jail cell" and a pile of old prison clothes. In one city alone!

I know, right? This had me in stitches laughing !!!!

[Renee]

Turdas, Frost Fall 4, 4th Era Year 5

Playtime: 46.34:40
Days Passed: 39

While a new vampire took up refuge not far away, Joan of Arkay measured the risks of returning to Battlehorn Castle, against continuing her search for Sarah. Joan had asked and prodded several people, including Talasma, the Oak & Crosier's innkeeper, Seed-Neeus (owner of Northern Goods & Trade), and Emfrid, publican of The Gray Mare. Only one out of these three trusted sources indicated that a woman matching Sarah's description had been staying here in Chorrol, at least for a brief amount of time.

"Welcome to the Oak and Crosier. This one is Talasma, your hostess. Our rooms and food are at your disposal."

"Talasma, I have been inquiring about. Have you placed a guest upon your registry by the name of Sarah? Young Breton with a shock of red hair?"

"Hmm, this one has not use for keeping a registry, and names are not required for staying. But a Breton lady with a 'shock of red hair?' Talasma has seen such a lady. She stayed here last night. Was seen by this one cavorting with one of our patrons, but she did not renew her stay here, at the Oak and Crosier."

"Any ideas, perchance, where she might have been off to?"

But that was as far as Joan got with her investigation. Nobody else seemed to know a thing about a Breton lady with red hair, here in Chorrol. Strangest of all, nobody in the Chapel of Stendarr knew anything either. Joan of Arkay had specifically instructed Sarah Phimm to go to this chapel, and stay there until Joan herself could return from Fort Carmala. Had it been a mistake, not accompanying Sarah back to the chapel herself?

Joan of Arkay decided finally to go back to Battlehorn Castle, to rest and plan her next undead-related campaign. Wherever Sarah might be, it was obvious she was no longer in Chorrol.

Fredas, Frost Fall 5

To-day, I take refuge within the depths of Fort Carmala, where no-one but I now dwells. The matters of many moments, the passage of time brings newfound, repletive discoveries. The life of an un-life, upon the eternal plains of the deceased. And the deceased, they surround in aggregations. All around lie the deceased.

I ventured toward, and into, the quaint town of Chorrol, where one-such 'friend', a Breton lady I met some time ago while still serving, suggested I go. She goes by the moniker of Joan of Arkay, and inf she is the reason why I stand amongst many deceased, Joan laid waste to them all. And as well doing so, suggested and begged that I journey to Chorrol, and stay within its chapel. Upon such, I would then take a steadfast interim.

And I did so. I did, by fact, travel to Chorrol's chapel, and of curiosity, immersed my-self within its walls.

But the Nine, they did not approve. In short notice, my skin, it burned, and 'twas not the sort of burning I could happily tolerate. My vampiric body forthwith melding into vapors, the cries of the unseen howling and shrieking! Within a moment's time, I made my leave, and with sureness, shalt never return within the walls of the Holy.

But to return to days' past--the former inhabitants of Fort Carmala, absolutely every of these, has passed into afterlife. Joan of Arkay, she made sure of that. Joan was met by me in past weeks' time back in Skingrad, a Crusader of sorts she is, a usurper of those not-so-innocent, who have been bound, or h who have chosen, the life of an un-life. As a devout follower of Arkay, her plight, her suffrage, rests with the very Gods above, and as a newly-initiate vampiress my-self, I must now avoid her at all costs.

I must avoid Joan, devotee of Arkay. I must take cover and strategize as means to evade her. For if she manages location of me, upon my return to Skingrad, 'tis a must that any obscuring on my part might only fool her maybe a day, maybe a fortnight. But surely not a life-time.

And now, I must also take my leave of Carmala. For there is a village nearby, a village known as 'Hackdirt'. Hidden away...no-one might notice a young, nubile lass such as my-self, as I

This post has been edited by Renee: Jun 10 2018, 07:30 PM

[Acadian]

It is too bad in a way, but it seems a less than happy confrontation between Joan and Sarah may be in the cards. You are weaving a fascinating tale here. Loved how the chapel would not abide Sarah within.

[Lopov]

A very good story, told from a perspective of Joan as she tries to meet with the lady whose life she saved, and then from Sarah's, where we find out that she actually went to the chapel but the Nine disapproved. That was a nice effect, wish we had something like this in vanilla game.

Looks like Moslin recognized Sarah's true from and ran away from her. In other words, that's because you setstaged the quest - if you leave Moslin the innkeeper alive during the Hackdirt quest, he'll run from you as soon as he spots you.

I'm looking forward to her feeding adventures in Skingrad.

[Renee]

It is too bad in a way, but it seems a less than happy confrontation between Joan and Sarah may be in the cards.

Nice! You're very perceptive on this one!

Lopov: Yes I think you are right. Everybody in Hackdirt was running away from Sarah because I fast-forwarded that quest. Although this might seem awkward, it totally fit the gaming session I had with her. Hackdirt is creepy enough, but just imagine the place is totally empty of life, yet all the miscellaneous stuff is still there, as though everybody had just left several minutes ago.

Anyway, time for some Kahreem of Weet.

7:45 pm, Second Seed 13, 3rd Era 434

Days Passed: 260
Game Hours: 245:48:53

(weird that I've been gaming with him for over 4 years now, but he's only got 245 hours).

Location: The Marie Elena



Kahreem of Weet opens the nearest sack just a crack, removes several bottles of Cheap Wine, and at the sack's very bottom, finds a little treat.

"Hello. Ready for some fun?"

Quickly gulps it down, feeling the rush of energy only skooma can give. His skin seems to glow even redder than usual, and he sways unevenly upon his feet for several minutes. And for these few minutes, the dank dark dampness of the ship he'd been calling his home for the last few months doesn't seem so dank, or dark, or damp. The Marie Elena had needed dry-docking for a good, long time, or at least, given more maintenance and care right here in the water. But nobody had taken up the task. Why would they? Since the pirates had been banished from this place, nobody really 'owned' the Marie Elena anymore. The place was becoming an eyesore, not that anybody seemed to really care or notice.

But none of that is any concern to the Redguard who'd been occasionally staying here. Finally, after some unknown amount of time, Kahreem flops down upon one of the ship's beds, still mid-deck, and still in the clothes he'd been wearing all day. He doesn't even take off his boots, although they were feeling pretty good right about then, especially after getting repaired and re-fleeced, with only the finest wool the mewing sheep of Cyrodiil could provide.

He lays down, his head all swimmy, and wonders for the umpteenth time whether or not anybody else had been living in his ship when he was gone, or even hiding amongst its many rooms and storage areas whenever he returned.

"Huh huh? Who's there?!"

Eventually his paranoia stops though. The skooma rush goes away. He'll have plenty to do tomorrow, and it doesn't take much time before he's passed out, in his clothes and boots.

--

Tirdas, 8:06 am:
It was the day before the night.... the BIG night, hopefully. The Redguard awakes and rises. Decides to do a little cleaning up, and (for now) places the precious robe & hood he'd acquired from Lucien Lachance in the same burlap sack in which he'd found the skooma. These clothes would come into use later, no doubt.

But first, he'd need to find this 'Earl of Jakben' fellow, whoever the fokke. And according to the scribbled notes he'd taken a day earlier from a "war veteran" begging for coin, the first place he'd need to look would be the Talos Plaza district.

"Time to get started, Redguard."

He begins by leaving the Marie Elena, and finding the nearest beggar. Pays this beggar, whose name is Puny Ancus, a few coins just to confirm that the story he'd gotten from the 'war veteran' is true. And yes, Puny Ancus reiterates the information the war veteran had said. There's a man named Jakben, and he has a home 'on the inner wall' of the Talos Plaza district. All good.

Kahreem then checks his man-purse. Yes, plenty of lockpicks to be had, at least four dozen in there. A trip to Shady Sam would not be needed.

"This had better be good!" one of the Imperial City's guards snaps as he walks by.

"You heartlanders are all the same, all taunts and no proof."

The guard stalks off. During his walk toward Talos Plaza, Kahreem's presence back in the Imperial City on this gloriously sunny day garners either neutral greetings, or what sound more like veiled threats, from guards and citizens alike.

"You have my ear, citizen." One of the politer guards, who perhaps was new at his post, and unfamiliar with Kahreem.

"I see no reason to talk to you." An Altmer wearing upper-class clothes, his fists raised.

"Greetings, child of Rad-ga." A delicious Redguard female.

Kahreem nods, winks, or scowls as he walks by. Finally, his destination ... the Talos Plaza District, where somehow, two beggars seemed to know that this is where the 'night owl' known as the Earl of Jakben would dwell. But where to start?



He starts by walking to the nearest door, and checking the name upon its placard. But this gets old quick. Chances are, this Jakben guy wouldn't have his fokkinge name listed up next to his door. Right? Kahreem gets a second idea.

Walks toward the nearest wall, and begins rubbing his hands upon it. Feeling for some sort of crack, some sort of handle, anything odd, anything out of place. He'd spent many of the last few months dealing with candle sconces which are really doorknobs, secret panels and phony bookcases. Somewhere along this wall, he thinks, must be the entrance to the Earl of Jakben's home. Right?

After awhile though, he realizes he looks totally ridiculous as he walks along slowly, feeling a bunch of stone walls. People might get suspicious. To allay anybody's puzzlement, he decides to begin talking to himself. As though he is crazy.

A man in brown clothes walks by and greets the Redguard, but seems to bustle away just a little bit quicker than he'd been moving a few seconds ago when he sees what Kahreem is up to. This is one man who won't be telling Kahreem about the Fighters Guild recruiting new members. Or the Emperor's recent death. Or how one can get the best armor at The Best Defense.

After an hour or so of walking along the walls and speaking nonsense, Kahreem gets another idea, after seeing a nearby well. Could this well's grate be a door? No, it is not. How about the moat of murky water to his left? Certainly, this moat is right there along the 'inner wall', right?

He jumps down the ramp, landing several meters into the water. Begins swimming and nosing his way underwater. But there was just...nothing to be found here.

The entire afternoon passes, Kahreem now soaked, frustrated, and trying to act like he's insane. He can only handle so much. After awhile, The Foaming Flask calls to him, with its promise of plenty libations for all. He can't but help and mindlessly walk toward this place, ready to feel the hammer of the Gods.

"Welcome to the Foaming Flask," says the pub's publican. "Good food, good drink. I'm Ernest Manis. Let me know what you need."

"I need to buy some liquor and get drunk, sir. I want to feel the hammer of the Gods."

"Have a look around. You won't find any better prices in all Cyrodiil!"

"Hmm.... Surilies ... Tamika ... plenty of mead. But no Cheap Wine? FOKKE!"



This post has been edited by Renee: Dec 8 2016, 11:19 PM

[Lopov]

Kahreem of Weet opens the nearest sack just a crack, removes several bottles of Cheap Wine, and at the sack's very bottom, finds a little treat.

"Hello. Ready for some fun?"

Mewing sheep of Cyrodiil!

I think that in the end reading inscriptions on doors is still the most helpful method to find out where the night hooting owl lives.

[mirocu]

Kahreem sure has some interesting methods of finding people. I think he better cut down on the Skooma, starting to do things, he is...

[Acadian]

"You have my ear, citizen." One of the politer guards, who perhaps was new at his post, and unfamiliar with Kahreem. - - Heh, till one of the older guards tells the new one about the infamous Weet Bandit who has his very own prison cell in the IC.

If he was convinced that there might be a secret panel of some sort, talking to himself to give the appearance of crazy was actually a pretty clever idea. I mean fokkes folks in the Shivering Isles do it all the time.

I'm a little worried if he actually meets Jak B Nimble.

[Renee]

Glad you three like it. I feel like my Kahreems haven't been as good lately. That last one was a nudge back upwards, though.



Morndas, 8:10 am, Frost Fall 8, 4th Era Year 5

Days Passed: 43

As morning light falls over Skingrad, some birds come to roost, while others rise to feed. Those who feed only gobble their worms and bugs, while those who roost do so with a slight notch of experience in their eyes, as though the owls and night doves knew slightly more than the sparrows, the grouses, the crows and other birds of daylight. And the peoples? They are like the birds of day, happily going about from one moment to the next, unaware of the lovely miscreation which had calmly returned in their midst, just hours before.

\-|---|-/

Eight hours earlier...

"Welcome back, Sarah. My prediction has come true. I knew you would someday return to Summitmist."

Sarah Phimm said nothing to Farnacas Collins, the man who'd invaded her home, and ended her previous life. Seeing Farnacas here in Summitmist Manor was not a surprise to her, of course. Serty had said the man would still be here; in fact he'd been living in her manor home quite comfortably. And indeed, when Sarah first returned, she could see that the place was a little more cleaned-up, its hearth was still burning, and various candles throughout Summitmist had been added and lit.

It had taken a few moments to find Farnacas though. He hadn't been in the house's parlor area, nor was he in its cellar. She finally found him in one of the manor's bedrooms, resting on his back. Upon her entrance, Farnacas then rose, to greet his new vampiric matron.

"Though circumstances may seem a bit untoward, with your Bretonic heritage abruptly being taken from you, I hope you can now see the foresight in my decisions."

"Foresight?"

"Yes. I have plans for you, Sarah. But we can surely talk about that later."

Sarah said nothing to this.

"I heard about what happened inside of Fort Carmala. The one-woman siege, of which essentially gutted the place of all my most recent minions, and one very dear friend."

"Serty."

"Serty. Yes. Serty Fyd." Farnacas's face had been cheerful, but grew cloudy in an instant. "She was to be my wife, Sarah. My bride. Oh, we'd been planning our wedding day now for over a decade, which believe me, is like a week or a month in mortals' terms. The day kept slipping though. And why rush it?"

Sarah smiled briefly.

"Her doom was unexpected, and though I am a master vampire, with what some assume no true feeling at all, I have been quite heart-broken. Have you any idea who might have caused all of this?"

Sarah did not answer for a few seconds. Then, "I know not her name, but I was able to fool her into thinking I am mortal. Hence, I am now here, instead of banished to a pile of dust."

"Very good, Sarah!" Farnacas was now smiling again. "I am pleased with this answer. You have just proved your first step of loyalty toward me. For I know who this ... woman is. I know of her. She is Breton, just as you once were, and she also has dark hair, and cavorts very closely with the Nine."

Sarah nodded, and made her own face cloud over. Under the circumstances, she had no other choice but to play along.

"Joan of Arkay is her name. An untoward [censored] of a woman. She was once quite the menace to our kind on Morrowind, and supposedly, she retired here in Cyrodiil, five or six years ago. Well, she had been quiet for quite awhile, indeed, she seemed to be in retirement, living in a castle not far from Chorrol. Yes, you can see we know of her, and of her place of hiding. But the risks inherent of taking her down have always been too great. Battlehorn Castle is fortified with dozens, and is far too dangerous for us to take on."

"I see."

"Even if all the vampires of the Great Forest bonded together as one, our hopes of even piercing Battlehorn would never be realized. But...none of this is your concern, Sarah. I am only happy you were able to fool Joan. Because you have one distinct quality that I undoubtly treasure."

"My full resistance to fire."

Farnacas nodded. "Do not concern yourself with Joan. We have work to do, you and I, and now we'll have to do it all without Carmala's help. Joan of Arkay cannot harm you, nor I, as long as we are here in Skingrad. And do you know why?"

"No I do not."

"It is because we have a friend here in Skingrad," Farnacas looked cheerful again. "Matter of fact, we have the most powerful friend we could possibly desire, right here in town."

"We do?"

"You shall soon meet this man, after one little problem has been resorted."

"And what might that be?"

The man's face grew disdainful. "Tayka Byite, that dreadful sorcerer. You know of him, and I know that you know, because you already mentioned his name when we met. Though he may not seem so, Tayka is one of the last of the Magyar Crypt-keepers, an ancient, but little-known, order of seers and sorcerers. He and I have known one another for years and decades, and even centuries. He knew me before I became what I am now."

Sarah nodded again.

"We were once amicable, Tayka and I. But those days are long gone, and he has already overstepped his bounds. He knows not to toy with you, Sarah, now that I am in Skingrad, now that you are mine!"

Sarah thought maybe she might make some sort of protest at these words, but said nothing.

"But I know Tayka. I know his ego, and his arrogance. I know how he thinks, how he operates. And sooner or later, there will be a showdown between him and I, over you. He desires the same quality I do: your ability to sustain any sort of damage from flames. And he will come for you because of this. He will come to fight ME, over you. Do you understand?"

"I .. yes I do understand, Farnacas."

"Very good. How compliant of you."

"How do we ... how do you plan to--?"

"How do we rid Tamriel of that menace? Easily. We let him come to us, Sarah. For we'd be fools to invade Istrius all on our own, with all their magics at the ready. You may still have full resistance to fire, I know because Serty told me you'd often bathe within the flames of a bonfire they built for you. But to shocking magic and cold? You still have weakness."

Sarah smiled briefly.

"We let him come to us. He cannot enter Skingrad with his entire flock of mages, now can he? Not without alerting the presence of the town's entire platoon of guards.... No, Tayka must come to Skingrad on his own, and well-disguised, too. And he will, I know he will. But he must come in secret. For he is wanted by the law, and despised by Skingrad's count."

"He must know of my fate by now," Sarah replied. "He must know of what I have become."

"He does indeed, I made sure of that."

The vampiress nodded, once again, but said nothing.

"Well. I can see my discourse has taxed you, and soon the sun shall rise. Sun... hmm. Are you able to withstand the rays of the sun, Sarah?"

"I ... no, I cannot."

"Such a pity. But expected. Your fire-resistance alone shall be quite enough, however, for what I have in mind. But do not let me hold you back any further. Welcome home, my dear."

"Thank you, Farncas," she replied. From far away, she could hear the chapel's bell tolling.



Return to Summitmist Manor

Anybody home?

Yes there is

Quest update

This post has been edited by Renee: Dec 11 2016, 04:43 PM

[Lopov]

As usually, you deliver us interesting continuation of Sarah's story.

From a seemingly unimportant maid she has become a full-fledged vampiress with "men" fighting over her because of her fire-resisting abilities. At first I thought that Farnacas would send Sarah to kill Joan but he obviously knows that no matter how powerful, they aren't a match for Joan. I'm looking forward to Sarah's confrontation with Tayka, that [censored].

[Acadian]

I really enjoyed this - especially that the story is weaving so nicely with Joan's and that it looks like Tayka's days are numbered.

Hee! I'm trying to decide if I want to picture Farnacus more like the Johnny Depp portrayal of Barnabas or the original fellow who did the old TV soap.

[Renee]

Lopov No way, he'd never send Sarah to kill Joan, omg Sarah is only level 3, she would be dead in seconds! Joan's level much higher than this.

Acadian: Thanks man! You may recognize in the beginning of that last story, when it goes on about birds of night and birds of day, I wrote it in such a way that it sounds like Vicky Winters (from the Dark Shadows show) is narrating. You know, she'd always give these sort of semi-poetic voice-overs for the beginning of the show. Here is an example. Thing is, I didn't mean to write it that way, that was unintentional. But I can totally hear Vicky narrating.

---------

Middas, 11:39 am, Second Seed 15, 3rd Era 434

Days Passed: 262
Location: Imperial City, Talos Plaza District


"Ha. Found you."

The mysterious Earl of Jakben keeps an ordinary stone house, which is nowhere near the 'inner wall', as the beggars had described. They had told the Redguard that the Earl of Jakben lived "on the inner wall of the Talos Plaza district", but LIES! ALL of it, LIES!

"I will have to return here later. But I got you," Kahreem muses, already able to smell the mellow, metallic odor of shiny new gold pieces. "Too bright out here now. I'll be back here by midnight, peraaps."

And so it goes. Since it is mid-day now, and he's got untold hours to kill. Kahreem heads straight to the Arena, where he gambles hundreds of gold around for a few hours, and winds up with 200 more than he walked in with. He places BIG bets too, 100 gold each time, why even bother with 25 or 50? ... In the past, he'd always had a 'system', superstitious or not, about how he placed his bets, and which door he would go through (left or right) after doing so, and today while throwing his money at gatekeeper Hundolin it's no different. If he places a bet on the blue team, he uses the left door. The yellow team? Now he'll go through the right door. But there are times when he suddenly gets an urge to use the opposite door to the one he had bet on. Today, he mostly places bets on the blue team. The one time he went yellow, he wasted 100 gold.

Kahreem begins his walk to the Markets for supper.

"Have pity on an old war veteran," says a man who actually looks he could be an old war veteran.

"You know, you beggars here in the Imperial City just led me wrongly."

"What?"

"The Earl of Jakben, who 'lives on the inner wall' of the Talos Plaza district, or so you'd have me believe. You are liars, all of you. You know how many hours I spent yesterday looking for some fokkinge door on the whole, entire inner wall? And how hot and sweaty and foolish everyone who saw me thought I looked? And the whole time, he lives right over there, in that house. All you had to do was say he lives kitty-corner to the Tiber Septim Hotel and we'd all be good. Hmph."

"Blessings of Stendarr upon ye."

"Yeah. Sure. Go ahead with your blessings and your Stendarr. All the money I pay you gents and ladies, pshaw! If you guys were bankers, you'd be giving me the money to someone else's account."

Kahreem lies down, and goes to sleep.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

1:45 pm
Two hours later, Kahreem of Weet becomes the Weet Bandit, donning the cloak, the hood, and the ring which would make him harder to detect than Buffy of Bravil at an archery shindig for Bosmer. And once again, as Kahreem slips on his Ring of Shadows he marvels over the way it seems his arm and skin and hands are there one moment, bronze & reddish in color, but gone the next.

"You have my ear, citizen."

Fokke, that guard can see me? Good thing rings of chameleon aren't illegal.

His walk back to Jakben's is quiet and uneventful. The lock guarding the 'night-owl's' door is a 4-tumbler. Difficult, but not impossible. And once he is crouched down, he realizes that a guard had just walked past him as he began to focus on the lock. The guard had not seen the Redguard. Very good.

clicckckckckkckck... Fokke!

He goes through an inordinate amount of picks on this one door, breaking somewhere over 20 of them, cursing all the while. Nerves, I tell you. But at least he doesn't get caught. Once he is on the other side he sees something which makes him smile. A wine rack, full of the cheap stuff. He rewards himself with a bottle. Glugs this down, and then begins to relax.

He finds himself in the solid, scented home of a wealthy man. Like a truly rich person, this 'Jakben' fellow has music playing magically in his house, from somewhere unseen, making the Redguard silently curse once again. Though this music is soothing, there's something about the contrast between its bucolic passages, and just being the Weet Bandit at a time like this.

Kahreem had been in many such places during his career as a thief, and in every one of these, he hadn't exactly been welcomed. This time would be no different, thinks he. He pads softly across a giant, round rug, and climbs a set of stairs, hoping to find the Springheel Jak boots hidden somewhere easy, like in some barrel or some sack. No such luck. He does find something useful though. After getting the right angle, he manages to pickpocket a sleeping man, and finds a key to the Imbel household. It will be yet another key to add to the collection of dozens.

...and eventually, those instincts kick right in. Goes from one room to the next. Having the actual key to the entire house helps a lot. As he's searching what looks to be some sort of office or writing-room, he hears footsteps approaching, and a man in upper-class black clothes walks in. He's got white skin, and stops right in front of the Redguard, literally inches away. Does not see him though. The man seems lost in thought. Eventually he paces away.

"Phew."

This man, whoever he is, certainly seems as though he could be a "night owl." Should the Weet Bandit speak to him? He decides the answer to this question is Yes. ... "But it has to be done in a certain way," Kahreem decides. "It has to be done right."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Turdas, Second Seed 15, mid-morning

"An intruder. Help! Don't hurt me!"

The Breton screams a scream of madness as Kahreem awakes him. The Breton seems panicked, tears well in his eyes, so he covers them. He stands with them covered for what seems to be several minutes, before uncovering them, and blinking. He's still here! those eyes say.

"You sound rather sleepy for a murderer. ... uh... Fokke! ... You sleep rather soundly for a murderer. Which is good. Because you'll need to have a clear head for what I am about to propose, Jakben Imbel. Oh yes, I know your name. And your game. I know how you tortured that Bosmer, how you screamed as you stabbed his eyes," Kahreem spat. "My name is Speaker Weet. I am the current speaker for the Dark Brotherhood. And you are in big trouble, sir."

Kahreem had already toured the entire house by this point, and knew there'd be something interesting in the Imbel's cellar area to talk about. Would Jakben Imbel make any mention of this? "Don't hurt me! I'll tell you anything you want to know!" he says.

"That is a good way to start, Jakben Imbel. And since you just answered right, I can tell my dremora friend in the next room to put away his giant, flaming weapon. Oh Mince the Malevolent, we're okay in here! Down boy, easy!"

"Take everything, just spare me!"

"'Take everything?' Ha! I have already been through your house. Like a typical rich man, you must have all your best hidden somewhere else. I notice this, how you all keep just a few gold in a barrel here, a few more gold in a sack of burlap there. Where is all the good stuff? *ahem* Nice collection of wine though, I must say. Us Dark Brotherhood Speakers only go for the cheapest of wines. Sort of a tradition. And you sir, have very excellent taste. You even have some Cheap Wine from Last Seed. How did you know that's my favorite month?"

Jakben is cowering by now, and says nothing, but seems to notch his head just a tad. Dark Brotherhood Speakers enjoy Cheap Wine?

"Enough! .... about wine though," Speaker Weet says, growing suddenly, respectfully silent. "Time for your next question. And if you get it wrong, Mince the Malevolent is going to eat well tonight. Ready? Do you, as a descendent of the great thief Jakben, know anything about his boots? Think carefully how you answer."



"The family crypts are under the house," Jakben stammers from his submissive position, making Speaker Weet smile. "They give me the creeps. I have the key. Take it! Just don't hurt me!"

"Hmm. Well okay. I already have the fokkinge key, but I am pleased with this answer anyway."

"I ... I'm still alive."

"Yes you are. Speaker Weet is pleased. I will spare you, you murdering bastard. Just make sure it never happens again."

"Okay, whatever you say!"

"Now, I'm going to go into your crypt-cellar, and you better not tell anyone. Else 'ol Mince'll make mincemeat out of your and your foppish housemate. Got that?"

...But Jakben Imbel got it several minutes ago, apparently. And he doesn't call the guards.



Within moments, Kahreem is back in the Imbel cellar. Inserts the Imbel crypt key into the oddly-placed door he had found and....



This post has been edited by Renee: Dec 18 2016, 01:25 AM

[Lopov]

Now what's this bombshell? Oh, Kahreem going live! Nice. Can't wait 'til he meets the infamous Jarl.

Lopov No way, he'd never send Sarah to kill Joan, omg Sarah is only level 3, she would be dead in seconds! Joan's level much higher than this.

Good to see Farnacas considering his actions.

Edit in the morning: Gosh, Renee this one had me rolling! Speaker Weet! "You sound rather sleepy..." and the best part...

Us Dark Brotherhood Speakers only go for the cheapest of wines

This post has been edited by Lopov: Dec 18 2016, 10:24 AM

[Acadian]

It is so very Kahreemish that his Arena activities are focused on betting instead of gladiating.

‘…make him harder to detect than Buffy of Bravil at an archery shindig for Bosmer.’ - - Woot! Buffy’s famous now!

"You sound rather sleepy for a murderer. ... uh... Fokke!’ - - I love Kahreem’s portrayal of a cheap wine-drinking speaker of the DB.

[mirocu]

All Kahreem has to do now is play the role of the new emperor, and he's officially played every part he ever could


Hmm. I wonder what he'll find in that cellar..

[Renee]

Well firstly, Merry Xmas to all, and Festivus for the rest of us!

And awesome, glad you all laughed & liked that last Kahreem, yeah I had a blast writing that one. Was also getting worried ... some of his latest episodes have been kinda "meh" in my opinion.

Well now I have a really treat for you folks. Lotsa dialog, but plenty of picutres too. I mean pictures.


1:28 am, Frost Fall 10, 4th Era Year 5

Days Passed: 45
Days as a Vamp: 3
Necks Bitten: 6
Bounty: .....30



"Annoying creature..."

Mog gra-Mogakh was slightly stunned, as she muttered those two words under her breath. How dare she? The lady who'd deserted Two Sisters Lodge, and had left Mog short-handed thirteen days ago, decided to return once again. Mog smiled. This would be good. Her position at the bottom of the stairs, rather than at a more-immediate customer eye-level, as most inns and taverns possessed, afforded Mog the ability to know who her next customer would be, before her next customer would know who ran the place.

"How dare she?" Mog said aloud, this time not-so-far under her breath.

Of course, many customers of Two Sisters knew the place well, as they frequented it for food and drink nearly every day. Only those who were new, or far too intoxicated, might get confused about where the Two Sisters owner might be standing. As Sarah Phimm walked casually across the upper balcony of the place, she looked down at her former employer. And her former employer grinned and seethed. Within seconds, Sarah was down the stairs, and without one glance into either of the inn's hearths.

"Greetings to you, Mog," the redhead smiled sheepishly.

"Well, look what the durzog dragged in. Sarah Phimm, my former barmaid, gone missing."

"Mog, I do apologize for any--"

But the orc would not hear any words. "If you came to get your job back, you can just keep walking, miss prissy. I've already hired a more-than-suitable replacement, right over there. And I was so fortunate that she just happened to wander in here on the very morning you took your leave."

"Mog, I--"

"And all she does is work, you know? Much like you did, only without all the sulking, and the slow-paced service, and without all that dreamy fire-staring nonsense you used to do."

Sarah nodded. "I know these things. But well, I ..."

"Well anyway," Mog continued haughtily. "I am glad you came back. For now I can officially stamp upon you, like my boot on a bug. Sarah Phimm, you are no longer employed by Two Sisters Lodge. Your job has been relinquished, effective two weeks ago."

"Relinquished? Not the proper word, I am afraid. For it would be up to me to relinquish, to surrender, my former employ. To 'relinquish' means to give up, you see. A word you might find more suitable might be--"

"SILENCE, WENCH!" Mog suddenly screamed, making her new barmaid drop a tankard of ale just inches from a customer's lap. "You may NOT have your job back, Sarah. Your employment here has been terminated. Is that a better word? It has ended, you got that?"

"Well I--"

"No, I've had enough of you, you sorry whelp," Mog really looked agitated by now, her smile-of-triumph suddenly gone. "I want you to get out of here. Scram! Just GO AWAY! And do not come back!"

And to Mog's eventual astonishment, Sarah Phimm left, and never did return to Two Sisters Lodge.

8:10 pm, Frost Fall 10
As this glorious Frost Fall day ended, the sun bidding its zillionth goodbye, Masser and Secunda, Tamriel's twin moons, ended their daily routine of hiding-in-plain-sight, and became fully visible. Many residents of Skingrad would be ending shifts at their jobs, and perhaps heading home, or toward one of Skingrad's two main eateries. Guards changing hands, while others took their posts. Many grapes happy to still be unpicked on their vines. Beggars returning to their bedrolls, hopefully a few coins closer to that 'new pair of shoes.'

But there were others, three in fact, who would have somewhat different plans in mind for this evening. Two of these three were men, and the third? A sort of woman. The two men returned to their homes, both with vague and worrisome thoughts of the coming night, as though they feared their own shadows. While the third, the woman, groaned out of a sort of sleep, moving suddenly and quickly out of the Chapel of Julianos's undercroft. This woman's goal would be to relocate Sarah Phimm, and give her some information. And Sarah Phimm, now that she had returned to Skingrad, would not be hard to find at all.

In fact, just as the chapel's bells tolled eight of night, the woman, the ghostly apparition known as Khul Peppa, found Sarah Phimm in her manor-home, waiting for the sun's rays to fully vacate the skies. Khul (being a ghost) did not need to knock on Sarah's door, though she did so out of courtesy.

"Yes? Come in."

Khul Peppa walked into Summitmist, which was now a bit more of a home, now that the place had been fixed up a bit. "Sarah, you have returned," Khul started.

"I have indeed. How have you been, lady? I have been to the graveyard outside of Skingrad's chapel many times, yet have not the luck to be graced by your presence."

"Good," Khul Peppa answered. "I am glad my presence at this hour has not startled you, and that you remember me from before. How could you honestly forget me though? Not many ghosts go wandering around, talking to people in Skingrad, do they?"

"Well it is good to see you, though I cannot actually see you as plainly, of course."

Sarah paused, looking as if she'd say more, but did not.

Khul said, "I knew you were back in town. I know many things. And see many things. I keep watch from the shadows. And my have you changed. I cannot say for the better though. Honestly, I am not really so fanatical of your kind."

"So ... you know... "

"I know it was not really your choice to join the undead," Khul Peppa said sadly. "And you have become a vampiric one at that. But otherwise, I have no real concern or say on the matter. My goal here I suppose, is to help you. To help you adapt. Because my superior wants these things for you. Now, are you ready to hear what I have to say?"

Sarah nodded.

"Yes, I do have somebody who guides me. And she wants me to tell you something. Something about that broom I gave you."

"That broom? The one you handed to me, yet hinted might not be suitable just for sweeping floors?"

"Precisely. Sarah, your broom...is magical."

"What?"

"It was crafted by a long-dead witch from somewhere in the south of Tamriel, Black Marsh, perhaps. And through long and storied fate, it has been handed and passed on from one lucky soul to the next. Its story in entirety must be long and full of awe, but all I can tell you is that it was given to me years ago before my death, and now that I no longer travel great distances, now that I am rooted here within Skingrad day after day, I have no more use for it."

"I ... I see," Sarah said doubtfully.

"No, you do not. To put it shortly, your magical broom ... can fly."

*gasp* "It can fly?"

"Yes, you heard me right. That broom has magical powers of the Mysticism and Destruction schools imbued within its shaft, and if you command it to do so, it will lift your personage right off the ground. You will then be free to move about at your whim, as the birds and the bats fly. Lifting, strafing, avoiding.... high into the sky, if you can manage without fear. I suspect your broom might become especially helpful as you'll be needing to occasionally travel afar, in your everlasting quest for blood, yes? You must know by now that you cannot take all your victims here in Skingrad, can you? For fear of being caught while trespassing, or even risking arrest for assault as you struggle to feed some of your more wary ... uh ... victims. Your broom can help you most of all, as you'll then need to return to Skingrad, yet might have quite a bit of distance to cover within short notice, before you are banished by the rays of the sun."

Sarah stood dumbfounded, her expression that of a child caught stealing candy. "I ... well I ...."

"Anyway, it is not my prerogative to judge you for who you have been forced to become. Yes, I know it was Farnacas who did this. And I will tell you this: I despise your kind, yet I also see the beneficial side to having an un-living friend, one who was known to me as a mortal not long ago, right here in town."

"I see."

"Good day... or... goodnight, I suppose. Enjoy your magical broom."

Sarah looked doubtful again. "But this broom, and your 'orders' that it be given to me. Might this have anything to do with Matilde Petit?"

"Ah, the question, the very question," Khul Peppa began. "Matilde Petit, the one who started this all, it would seem. And so, you have knowledge of Matilde granting your possession of your manor home, you have heard Farnacas and Takya mention her name, and now you wish to know if SHE is the one who is the true giver of your new toy."

Sarah nodded.

"I see. I understand. But I cannot answer. Only those who possess the gift of understanding may know the truth, I suppose."

"But how? I don't ..."

"Now if you will excuse me, I must return to darkness. For I have my own needs as a non-mortal. I will see you soon, however. But for now, I know I must not waste any more of your precious time. Time is always short for you yes?"

"No, please do not go!"

But the ghost of a lady did just that, and was gone in a flash, impossible for Sarah to see as she ran further away.

-------------------------------------------------


Mog was not pleased to see Sarah, in fact she fired her, and told her to never return to Two Sisters (NPC big-face warning for mALX, )

Job termination is now official

Sarah spends her days hidden in Summitmist

And portions of night stalking the unaware

But she is surprised by a visit from Khul Peppa, who informs her that the broom she gave Sarah several weeks ago is magical. But Khul will not divulge any secrets about Matilde Petit.

Doubtfully, Sarah walks outside of town, and summons the magic within the broom

And lo. Brooms aren't just for cleaning anymore

Her ride begins slowly

But soon, she's having fun, playing under moonlight

She gets higher, and higher, straight up she finds

Higher, and higher, leave it all behind!

But her fun soon comes to an end. The sky, it begins to grow light.



This post has been edited by Renee: Jun 24 2018, 01:34 AM

[Acadian]

The scene with Mog was funny!

More mystery surrounding Caulipepper the ghost.

How very wonderfully whimsical! I want a flying broom - it looks like great fun!