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

[Acadian]

The Jandaga has a lot of patience to put up with that councilor's bs + attitude. And what is with the coded letters? Is someone trying to undermine the Mages Guild and using the Arch Mage to do it?

[macole]

20240521 TAS The Ingred Inauguration

Actually, I was rather relieved when Councilor Oscuiro informed me that he was going to an out-of-town meeting. I haven’t had a relaxing dinner with my Ladies in a long time.

Surprisingly, the Ladies were still in the Arboretum when I found then. Smiling wildly, I ran to greet them with news of a few days of leisure time.

The Ladies were excited to see me, too. Um, it seems I had forgotten to inform the Bank to increase their credit limit while I was away. Now I was about to hear, non-stop for the rest of the afternoon, exactly how they felt about that mistake.

A romantic dinner on the Bloated Float, under moonlit starry skies, serenaded by the sound of waves lapping against the piers, will go far in solving that misunderstanding. Why, we could even take in the theater after dinner.

Oh, I forgot there is no theater in the Imperial City or in the whole of Cyrodiil for that matter. And no, the Arena is not the sort of entertainment my Ladies should be seeing at this time. They might get the wrong idea. The plan is to soothe their fractured egos, not inflame them further.

The whole afternoon spent in the Goddess Store and the only thing bought was a new pair of shoes for Kaleah. At least there’s a nice bar down in the lower level.

It was pouring rain when we, Kaleah, Elenya, Pym, and I left the Goddess Store. Thankfully the Bloated Float is only a short walk, err run down the wharf street. After a mad dash to the Bloated Float, we stumbled thoroughly soaked into the dining room, laughing like a bunch of school kids at recess. Pouring ourselves into the chairs at the nearest table we shouted for drinks and plates of whatever was in the hot pot.

Recognizing his friends, Orvil brought out his best wines and liqueurs to go with large steaming platters of crab legs and lobsters and baked fish with a lemon butter and caper sauce. Pity, we weren’t able to enjoy the dinner on the top deck under the moons and stars but the Bloated Float was dry on the inside.

It was late and the storm had not subsided, we weren’t the only ones who decided to spend the night aboard the Bloated Float. Party till the clouds run dry, someone shouted. With Orvil setting-up temporary sleeping mats for those who needed, the party continued well into the wee hours.

The morning came and with it came the end of the storm. We left the Bloated Float to get cleaned up at the Arch-Mage’s quarters.

Passing through the Arboretum, we were stopped by an elder lady, Elsabeth Selatus. Claiming to have been sent by someone she won’t name, she warns us that we are in great danger. “They” are watching and “They” are out to kill me, she warns.

Who are “they” that she’s warning about and who is it that sent her?

They, I suspect are the True Descendants cultists. The cultists have been very visible lately. They seem to be everywhere the Ladies and I go. There were at least four running around inside Mir Corrup last time we were there. They even followed us to Caldera.

No, it’s not the True Descendants, but certain others, Elsabeth claims. Well known rich people, people with power. Elsabeth offers to direct me to certain secrets that if used wisely will protect me from these “others”. She will say no more on who these others are.

To uncover these secrets, I must seek out Ingred the Sturdy, a Nord traveling merchant. She should be staying at the Imperial Bridge Inn this coming Tirdas. Giving the password Wingless Bird, Ingred will reveal to me the location where I will find important secrets about the Steps.

Why should I trust some old woman with an oddball conspiracy theory when she won’t tell me who sent her or why? I guess it’s because of the way the grey robed cultists are constantly hovering around that I think we should look into this.

Turning to my Ladies I suggested that since it is now Morndas, we should leave immediately. After being schooled on how bad an idea that was, we decide that we would spend the night in the Arch-Mage’s quarters and leave for the Imperial Bridge Inn at the first light of dawn.

How could I stand against such convincing arguments? Bubble baths, shampooing hair and doing nails are after
all basic needs that should not be ignored. And don’t forget dinner. Oh, that first light of dawn thing, better make that after the morning meditation and most importantly breakfast. Oh well, if we run we should make the Imperial Bridge Inn by early Tirdas evening.

Leaving the Mages Guild, we walked across Lake Rumar to the Ring Road. Turning south we come across another traveler as we passed the burned-out husk of the original All Things Alchemical.

She was alone and going in our direction, so I politely ask if she’d like to journey with us for protection. She gave us stern look over and said something to the effect that she’d have to have a long talk with a barkeep before talking to me.

Ouch, that stung. It’s been quite awhile since I was considered a ‘closing time desperation date’. Well, if she wants to be left alone then we’ll just keep on going.

When we came to the Yellow Road intersection, we turned south toward Leyawiin. Here’s where we began to really notice how many True Descendant cultists were reacting to us. They were constantly running past us. One or two at a time they’d pass us by going south. A short time one to four more would run by us going north. It was getting rather unsettling.

Near the area of Fort Sejanus and the Wayshrine of Julianos, we passed by a half buried Ayleid stepstone. As we did a bandit appeared on the stepstone. He took one look at us and swung his big hammer. Pym and Elenya reacted instantly, and the big bandit would no longer threaten anyone in such a manner. The bandit was holding 56 Welkynd stones.

Concentrating on counting Welkynd stones, we were caught by a poisonous cloud. Led by the wanted criminal Nephethys Adlbruk (MOO Mythic Dawn faction), a band of Morrowind Raiders ambushed us. There was a brief struggle.

Collecting Adlbruk’s helmet as proof of her demise, and 307 gold coins from her pocket, we continued on. The rest of the journey to the Imperial Bridge Inn was uneventful.

It was just before 5:00 pm and knowing how busy this place gets at dinner time, the first thing we did was pay for a bed for the night. After a quick change to get rid of some of the road grim, we ordered some dinner and sat down to wait for Ingred the Sturdy to arrive.

This post has been edited by macole: May 22 2024, 04:36 AM

[Acadian]

A refreshing pause in the IC, followed by another cryptic warning from a stranger. Off to the Imperial Bridge Inn. A couple of attacks and a good supply of welkynd stones later, they arrive to await their study target and ponder why those cultists seem to be breeding like bunnies.