The Talendor Chronicles, Part One Options

[TheOtherRick]

AUTHORS NOTE AND DISCLAIMER

This is my first attempt at fan fiction. I am not a writer, by profession or hobby. At least it wasn't a hobby until now. We'll see where that goes. So since I am not a writer, grammatical and spelling errors may slip past the spell-check from time to time. Please feel free to point them out so that I may make the proper edits.

I have read very little fan fiction, which is to say that I have not finished reading any story that I started reading...yet. But starting to read a few has put a flow in my creative juices. (Go Buffy!) Any similarity to any other fan fiction posted in this or any other forum is purely coincidental, with one exception. I have posted this story on another site. I am posting it here because I would like feedback, and I am not getting any at the other site. The readers here seem to post more feedback than readers at the other site. I'm not trying to be a glory hound, and I encourage constructive criticism.

The story is a gameplay narrative. It starts in the 3rd person for the prologue only, the rest will be in 1st person. It is not a walk-through of the Main Quest. However, as it is a gameplay narrative, so readers will have to plod through the tutorial section much as I had to plod through while writing it. The tutorial is essential for character development, as you will see. The posts will be relatively short so that the reader will not have to wade through miles of text per post. To keep them short, I am going to borrow Acadian's chapter numbering system (1.1, 1.2, etc.) so I don't end up with three digit chapter numbers.

I hope you will enjoy...The Talendor Chronicles

Post Script - I have already screwed up. Instead of putting "Authors Note and Disclaimer" in the subject line, it should read "Part One". Is there a way to change that?

Post Script #2 - The first four installments after the Prologue are way too long. This was a rookie mistake and has been rectified Beginning with Chapter 3. I apologize for the long posts, but I promise you'll be glad you slogged through them.

This post has been edited by TheOtherRick: Feb 5 2011, 02:00 AM

[TheOtherRick]

Prologue - Unknown Origin

“My head is killing me!” The words echoed in his head for a moment before he realized that he had spoken them aloud.

Where am I?
Who am I?
What in the world is going on?

He raised his head and looked around. The surroundings were dimly lit by a flame from a sconce on a damp stone wall. There were two more stone walls. One had a small window near the ceiling letting in precious little light. Chains hung from the ceiling with manacles attached to them. The wall opposite the one with the window in it had a large barred iron gate. The large lock was unmistakable. His clothing smelled and looked as if they had been discarded some time ago and recently rediscovered.

This can’t be good.

He tried to stand and failed on his first attempt, thudding back to the stone floor and sending pain through his hip while making the thunder in his head crash between his temples. He made a second attempt, slower this time, and succeeded by using one of the damp walls for support.

Why can’t I remember anything? I can think. I am lucid.

He touched each of his fingers to his thumbs.

My hands don’t look right. They are too small.

He wiggled his toes in the sackcloth sandals he was wearing.

Where did those shoes come from? My feet are also too small. Huh?

He flexed his arms but wasn’t ready to try squatting and standing back up. The pain in his head was receding to a dull throb, but he was still a little dizzy.

Why can’t I remember anything?

The dull throb behind his eyes sent his hands up to his head. He paused and then felt all around his head.

MY EARS ARE HUGE! WHAT IS GOING ON?

Still using the wall for support, he made his way toward the barred door of his…

Cell?
He took a moment to survey his surroundings a little more closely. This definitely looked like a jail cell. Barely large enough to walk around in, the room was filthy. Some straw and…

Are those bones?

There was a recessed area with a raised stone slab that looked as if it was meant for sleeping on, a burlap rag with straw beneath lay upon it. There was a small wooden stool and table on the opposite side of the room. The table had an earthenware cup and pitcher on it. The smell in this place was awful. A combination of waste odor mixed with the sickly sweet undertones of something dead and rotting. He tried hard to think, to recall…

By The Nine, what is my name? Who, where, and WHAT am I?

A puzzled look crossed his face…

“By The Nine”? What does THAT mean? What are “The Nine”?

He shook his head and regretted it immediately, closing his eyes as the dull throb increased to full pain again. He sat motionless until the pain subsided back to a throb. He opened his eyes and continued making his way toward the door. He could see another cell across the hall. There was someone sitting in it, looking back at him. The person stood up and walked toward the bars of his door. The person had dark skin and his eyes shone red in the dim fire light. There were pointed ears on either side of the person’s narrow head with pulled back hair. This person’s clothes looked every bit as tattered and filthy as the ones he was wearing. The person spoke.

“Hey. Wood elf.”

Wood elf?

“You’re a little far from the forest, huh? Looks like your days of woodland frolicking have come to an end. To go from the gladed realm of Valenwood to a rat infested hole like this. How very sad.”

Forest? Valenwood?

“Those walls must feel like they’re closing in on you. Pretty soon you’ll go mad, and the guards will cut your throat just to stop the ranting. That’s right. You’re going to die in here wood elf. Die!”

He slid down the wall into a squat. Slowly shaking his head so as not to bring back the pain. He had to think. He had to get a handle on this.

Wood elf? Forest? Valenwood? DIE IN HERE? This isn’t real. It’s a dream.
He nodded his head backwards into the stone. The pain caused him to squint tightly and grab his head.

OUCH! There’s no way that pain is not real…

This post has been edited by TheOtherRick: Jan 26 2011, 01:21 PM

[TheOtherRick]

Chapter 1.1 – Out of the Cell

Okay…I have to get a handle on this. Just think for a minute.

I looked around the room where the guards and the man that called himself “The Emperor” had left me. They went through a gate and locked it behind them. I barely had a moment alone when I heard a scratching sound and suddenly stone blocks tumbled into the room. Just as suddenly, the biggest rats I have ever seen jumped through the new hole. Straight at me! By reflex alone, I swung my fist and stunned the first one as the second one jumped through. Swinging my fists and stomping, I fought them off until I finally felt a skull crack under the weight of my foot as I choked the life out of the other rat.

Panting, I looked at the dead vermin. They were huge! They were easily three feet long and probably thirty pounds each. I looked at my wounds from the battle. Nothing serious, but they will need cleansing. I took a deep breath.

Get a grip. Use your head.

I quickly reviewed the events that had brought me here. I had awakened in a jail cell. Some dark skinned fellow with pointy ears had told me I was going to die in that cell. Then the guards came. There was an elderly man wearing a velvet and fur cloak accompanying them. He had told me that his name was Uriel Septim and that he was “my Emperor”, and that I was a citizen of Tamriel. I asked him why I was in jail and he told me that maybe the Gods had placed me there so that we may meet.

That was as good a story as any, because I have no clue how I got here.

A female guard stood near the bed when it sank into floor and the wall behind it slid away. One of the other guards muttered something about it being my lucky day, and they all started off down the tunnel that led from the cell. I just stood there for a second, and then I followed them. Anything was going to be an improvement over the cell. The tunnel walls were raw stone and after a short distance we passed through a hole into a basement of some kind. Stone block made up the floors, walls, and arched ceilings. I remember thinking the masonry work was amazing.

Suddenly the guards ran off and I could hear fighting. As “The Emperor” and I rounded a corner, we saw the guards in combat with several figures clad in a dark shimmering armor. The din of clanging metal and yelling echoed loudly off the stone block walls of the chamber. One of the combatants was slain, and suddenly the figures shimmered out of focus as it fell to reveal a human dressed in a red robe. When it was over, three robed figures and the female guard lay motionless. “The Emperor” and I walked over to the guards. “The Emperor” asked about the female guard, a Captain Renault, and was informed of her death. The guards and “The Emperor” walked toward a metal gate. After telling me to stay here, they passed through the gate.

Tamriel? Okay. Focus. Act. You can’t stay here. Get moving! Think and move!

I looked at the dead guard. She had weapons. There was no way that armor was going to fit me though. It was way too big.

Too big? What has happened to me?

I grabbed both swords. One was shorter, double-edged with a hardened steel blade. The other had a long, slightly curved blade, thin with a single edge. It was amazingly light. With a little coercion, I was able to tie a scabbard to each side of my pants. The guard also had a torch and flint, which I liberated from her as well. I moved to the robed bodies and searched them. Two of them had bottles with strange writing on them. The labels read “Heal” and “Sorcery”. I briefly considered trading my rank clothing for a cleaner, if not blood soaked, robe. But the guards had just killed these people. Wouldn’t one kill me if he saw me in a red robe?

How did I know what that writing meant? Because it is plain as day you idiot! But the characters look so strange.

I took off my shirt, tied the sleeves together, and placed the bottles in my make shift satchel. I glanced at the dead rats again as my stomach growled. The thought of eating the beasts repulsed me. Maybe just a little, I thought as my stomach performed a reprise. I used the short sword to slice off about a half pound of meat and tucked it the shirt-bag. I placed the torch between my legs, then pulled out the flint and rubbed it briskly over my wrist irons while holding them over the business end. It caught flame on the second pass.

That was too easy. What else?

I scanned the room once more and headed toward the hole in the wall. The moment I stepped through, a high pitched screech stopped me. There was another of these huge rats charging toward me. I quickly drew the katana and clove the rat in two as if I had been doing it all my life. It was too easy, like instinct or natural reflex. A couple more rats charged and I dispatched them with the same ease.

Where did I learn to do that?

As I moved through the tunnel, I came across chests, barrels, and crates. I would look inside each of them because, well, you never know. I found all sorts of things. Gold coins, tools, cloth, but no food. My stomach was really growling loud now. I was worried that it might be heard by rats…or worse. I sliced a chunk of the rat meat and skewered it on the end of the sword. I held it over the flame of the torch for about five minutes, turning it every so often. When I took it from the flame, I had to blow it out. This was going to be a greasy, nasty nightmare. I popped it in my mouth and chewed, swallowing as fast as I could. It could have tasted worse I suppose, but yuck!

I continued through the passageways, always checking the crates and such for useful goods. I came to a room that had a well, the usual rats, and what appeared to be a corpse. After dealing with the rats, I went to the well. I was parched. The well had a bucket tethered to a wound up chain. The chain was completely rusted to the point of being an orange welded mass.

So much for a drink of water.

I went over to the corpse. It was little more than a clad skeleton. Any gore from decomposition had turned to dust ages ago. I grabbed the leather cuirass and shook the bones and dust from it. This was going to be better than what I was wearing, and maybe I wouldn’t appear to be a prisoner to any guards I might encounter. Under the corpse laid a quiver with arrows. I picked it up and slung it over my shoulder. There had to be a bow. I looked around and there it was, next to a leather shield. When I picked the bow up, I held it out straight with my left arm. I drew an arrow from the quiver, nocked it, drew the bowstring to my check and let the arrow fly. It didn’t make it half way to the well. Frowning, I stood the bow on end and applied pressure to release the bowstring. I shortened it by a couple inches, replaced it, and repeated the same motions again. This time the arrow flew true and hit dead center of the bucket with a satisfying THUNK.

How on earth did I know how to do all that?

As I adjusted all of my newly found equipment, I felt or heard metallic sounds from a pocket on the cuirass. I reached in and found several lock picks. I have no idea how I knew what they were, but I knew as sure as I was breathing. There was a chest near the corpse. Looking closer, I noticed a lock pick sticking out of the lock. I knelt by the chest, lowering my head so I could hear the tumblers, and started working the pick. Back and forth, up and down, and…click! I opened the chest to find some gold coins and the biggest sapphire I had ever seen.

WHY DO I KNOW HOW TO DO ALL OF THIS?

I shuddered. This situation was beyond comprehension. I know things I have no reason to know. I can read things written in characters I have never seen. I am so small. Rats were easy, but what if something bigger comes along?

Keep moving.

I stood up and continued on my surreal journey. At the other end of the chamber was a door and something lying near it. I crept forward until I could be sure it was dead. It was one of the ugliest things I had ever seen. It was humanoid, a little shorter than me if it was standing. Its face was frozen in a contorted snarl for eternity. It was a goblin, the part of me that knows what I’m not supposed to know told me instantly.

Keep moving.

I went to the door. Locked! The door was made of a heavy enough wood that I could hack it until the cows came home, or the guards showed up, and it would barely show a scratch. I turned and leaned my back against the door and pushed as hard as I could. Nothing. I was facing the goblin. It was clad in a loin cloth and leather vest. Something metallic glinted in the breast pocket. I moved closer and pulled the key from its pocket. Am I that lucky? I placed the key in its home and turned, grinning as the tumblers tumbled and the lock released. Fortune smiles on the foolish, I thought with a chuckle. Maybe the guard was right when he said it was my lucky day. But what was on the other side?

More rats. My frustration at encountering more of the over-sized vermin was uttered in what sounded like a foreigner belching with a mouth full of marbles. As I made this odd noise, my right arm came up and pointed at the charging rat. Instantly a ball of fire shot from my hand and hit the rat in the face. It flew backward about four feet, landing dead and cooked.

What did I say? I said “fire”. How? Keep moving.

I continued forward and rounded a corner to see three more rats. Two were charging at me and a third seemed occupied with something around the next corner. I made the strange noise again with the same rat roasting results. I grinned when I realized there would be no more torchlight cooking. These babies were ready to go. I started to chuckle again when a new sound came from around the corner. I looked up from picking up the second roasted morsel to see a rotting corpse walking toward me. I jumped up and retreated several steps. Will the fireball work on this thing too? I shot one at it. Not the same as roasting rats. It kept coming. Fear seized me. This was the first thing that had not died quickly at my hand. I didn’t know whether to draw sword, nock arrow, or keep trying to cook it. I decided on one more shot of the fire before I retreated further. I worked! The corpse was once again an inanimate one, albeit smoking now. A relieved grin sprang out on my face, although I was still shaking from fear.

What kind of place is this where rotting corpses come after you? Zombies. Keep moving.

Beyond the passage where the zombie met his fiery demise was another chamber. It came with the usual number of rats. I sincerely hope that the places where normal people live have cats as well, and that these vermin are down here hiding from them. But this room came with an unexpected treasure. Food! How fresh food made it here I have no clue, and I don’t care. There was cheese, lettuce, and a tomato that I ate right on the spot. I had tossed away the raw rat meat, replacing it with cut portions of the rats that I had fried. There was another skeleton here, but this one was clad with armor that was made from iron plates. The cuirass alone weighed thirty pounds if it weighed an ounce. The greaves fit without causing too much restriction to my mobility, although they were definitely over-sized. Better than getting my shins and thighs wounded further. The rat bites I had already sustained were tender and swelling.

A thought hit me like a boulder. I opened my shirt-bag and grabbed the bottle that said “Heal”. I hesitated for only a moment. I opened the bottle and upended the contents into my mouth. It tasted sweet, like blueberries and grapes with a hint of peaches. An indescribable feeling washed over me. It was health, as if you could grab or taste pure health. Tangible health soaked through every part of my body. I laughed out loud at the sensation, and then stifled it as quickly, listening to my laughter reverberating around the chamber and down the passageways.

Keep moving.

I was beginning to wonder if these passages would ever end. The tunnels had lost their stone block sides in favor of raw stone, hewn by hands ages ago. I reached yet another wooden door. When I passed through it, the atmosphere changed. There was a faint sound of wind passing through the passages. Stalactites and stalagmites were visible in the dim lighting. I relit the torch to get a better view. Having the torch lit made me nervous. Could zombies see? I proceeded forward for several yards and quickly doused the torch after I heard a guttural sound from around the next bend. As I crept forward and reached the bend, I saw another goblin. This one was quite alive. He was standing by a fire, rotating a rat on a spit over the flames. Slowly, I raised my bow and nocked an arrow. In an instant, the arrow struck the goblin between the shoulder blades. I am pretty sure it must have injured it, but I am positive it became angry. It let out a screech, turned and bolted straight for me. I had just enough time to nock another arrow and let it fly. The arrow hit the creature right between the eyes and sent it backward to land next to the fire.

Letting out an exhale of relief, I walked over to the creature. It looked like the other one. It had a make-shift helmet made from a ram’s skull with the horns intact. A rudimentary cuirass made of bones and a loin cloth. Its skin was greenish grey and rough in appearance. Any remorse at killing what was obviously a somewhat intelligent creature was lost in the memory that it had meant to kill me. I would have to remain cautious as I moved along because where there was one of these creatures, they would probably be more.

There was a wooden stool next to a crate. On the crate were a mortar and pestle, some mushrooms, and a green bottle. The bottle had something scratched into the surface, but I was unable to discern what it meant. I was very thirsty, so I uncorked it and sniffed the opening. I recoiled immediately. It smelled like I had opened a crypt where the coffins had been left open. Perhaps it was some kind of poison. Looking at the mortar and pestle, and then at the mushrooms, that inner knowledge that has been with me since I awoke in the cell led me to place the mushrooms in the pestle and crush them together with the mortar. Instantly, the fungi congealed into a gelatinous mass that quickly liquefied. It smelled the same as what was in the green bottle. Glancing around, I located another bottle and poured the contents of the pestle into it.

Okay, now I don’t care how I know all of this. I want to see the sky. There might be more goblins. Keep moving.

Progressing through the cave, it wasn’t long before I realized the truth of that thought. I entered a room that had a torch burning in it. While searching a chest, I noticed a couple apples on the ground near a smashed barrel. I moved over to retrieve them and heard goblins screech and start running up an inclined passageway. I spun to face them and ducked behind a pile of logs to avoid arrows that were whizzing past my head. The logs shifted as I leaned against them and started rolling down the passage. When the noise stopped and the dust cleared, there were two dead goblins intertwined with the jumbled logs at the bottom of the incline.

I hope this luck can last. Keep moving.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to lug all of the items I had found. This trek seemed to go on forever and fatigue was starting to weigh on me. I entered a large chamber that had several fires burning. There was a goblin not twelve feet away from me. I dropped the shirt-bag, and fired two arrows in rapid succession. Both hit home in the goblin’s chest. He let out a yelp just before the second arrow sent him tumbling away. I stood motionless to see if the yelp had alerted others. There was no noise to indicate that the goblin’s short warning had been heard. I crept forward and saw a second goblin on the other side of the chamber. I poured some of the poison that I had made onto an arrowhead and fired at the goblin from across the chamber. It barked, turned to run toward me, and fell dead after two steps.

I could see yet another goblin at the far end of the chamber. It was standing in the glow of light that was let in through a hole in the ceiling. I anointed another arrow with poison and dropped the goblin with a single shot. As I moved toward this latest victim, another goblin howled in the pit that made up the center of the chamber. It was up the side and upon me before I could react. I drew the katana while trying to dodge its attacks. The shear ferocity of the creature amazed me as much as its skill with the dagger it was using against me. A final thrust with the katana left it quivering on the blade. It slumped lifelessly to the ground as I withdrew the sword from its chest.

I was bleeding from several wounds. I raised my right hand and muttered another, different, of those marble-mouthed words. That same feeling of swimming in tangible health from the potion washed over me, but not as strongly. I repeated the sound a couple more times. I examined my wounds after the third utterance and was amazed to see that they had closed and the bleeding had stopped. They were still tender to the touch, but healed.

I looked down into the pit that the goblin had climbed out of. There was a caged area with several rats in it. I have really grown to detest these things. I decided to use them for target practice and dispatched them all with one arrow each. Then I headed to the dead goblin that was lying in the swath of sky light. This one looked different than the others. Its clothing was more ornate. On the ground next to its body was a staff capped with the skull of a goblin. It seemed to give off power. Not visibly, nor audibly. When I picked it up, it felt like the wood it was made of. Nothing felt out of sorts, yet I still had the feeling of power emanating from it. I pointed it toward the far end of the chamber and spoke some more mush-mouthed gibberish. Lightning shot from the end of the staff and slammed into the far wall of the chamber with the sound of a thunderclap. I jumped and dropped the staff.

This is really crazy! Keep moving!

I picked up the staff again. The weight of everything I was carrying had become too great to manage, so I inventoried what I had and left some items I thought were less important behind. I reached the continuation of the passages and pressed forward, coming to yet another wooden door. What was I going to find beyond this one? Rats, goblins, and zombies were quite enough for me. I hoped that this might be the last door, and that I would see sunlight at the end of the tunnel. I hoped…

[mALX]

A great start !! I like the little details you've added to this to personalize it (like for instance, seeing the lockpick and listening for the tumblers to click - great detail !!!)


Can you put a link to your story on the "other site" into your signature?

[TheOtherRick]

Chapter 1.2 – Out of the cell

I can’t believe my eyes. Is that sunlight? Am I breathing cleaner air?

I opened the grated exit, surprised to find that it had no lock. Three steps later I was standing in open air. My lungs couldn’t inhale deeply enough. I just stood there, head craned toward the sky with my eyes closed and took in the fresh air. Lowering my head, I looked at the lake in front of me. The water looked almost black in the gloaming. But that didn’t stop me. I hastily dropped my belongings and dashed the last steps across the beach, diving headlong into the water. It felt sooooooo good! I stayed in water shallow enough to stand in. It would do no good to escape and then drown because I was dragged to the bottom by iron greaves. I submerged my head and sucked water into my mouth and swallowed. Instant relief. I was so thirsty that I wanted to drink down the entire lake. I had not had anything to drink but some potion since I awoke.

I walked back out of the water and looked around. The sun had almost completely set. There was an old wooden dock jutting into the lake a few feet away. Across the water was a ruined building, or buildings, of some kind. The architecture was amazing. Large stone arches, some of which were still completely intact, glowed orange in the light of the sunset. I turned around and faced the grated entrance to that rat infested jumble of underground passages. I hope I don’t have to go underground again anytime soon…if ever. Behind the entrance, the land rose abruptly. From where I was standing, I couldn’t see far beyond the entrance because of the grade and trees. I decided to walk out on the dock for a better view in that direction. I reached the end of the dock, turned, and was afforded a view of even more trees up the side of the hill. I sat down on a crate at the end of the dock.

Think! What next?
Tamriel? Jauffre? Amulet? Emperor?

The words poured and repeated themselves through my mind.

Weynon Priory? Chorrol? Blades? I had pulled it off. They didn’t kill me. THINK!

* * *

After creeping through what had seemed like endless leagues of tunnels, I had encountered the elderly man and his guards again. They were still being harried by figures in shimmering dark armor. Only this time, I got sucked into the fighting as well. I held my own, even though it was a small share. The guards turned on me and had been ready to kill me. But Uriel Septim had stopped them. I can’t get used to the idea that I have an “Emperor”. He said something about the guards not seeing what he had seen or some such. He asked me questions about myself that I could not answer.

Who am I? Where am I? WHAT am I? Stop it. THINK!

We made our way yet deeper into the basements. Finally, after a couple more skirmishes with assassins, we reached a dead end. Glenroy, one of the guards, suspected that it was a trap. He was right. Once again, dark armored assailants were attacking us. Suddenly, the Emperor turned and spoke to me again. He had said that he could go no further. He gave me a necklace with an incredibly large red stone. He called it “The Amulet of Kings”. He told me to take it to someone named Jauffre. Apparently this Jauffre fellow was the only one that knew of his last living son. He had no sooner finished his speech with the phrase, “…close shut the jaws of oblivion”, when another dark armored figure came through a panel in the wall behind him. The assailant slit the old man’s throat in a blindingly quick flash of steel and blood. The attacker wheeled on me and I barely had time to draw and get my blade up to prevent a similar fate. I don’t know how I survived that battle. My movements were completely instinctual. I was acting before thinking about it. And a good thing too, since I am alive.

When the fight was over, I dropped to my knees and quickly fumbled through my shirt/satchel for more of the healing potion. I was bleeding badly from several gashes in my arm and side. After draining two of the small rose colored bottles, I stood up to find Baurus standing over the slain ruler.

“We failed! I failed!” he said.

He went on for a minute about how The Blades had failed their Emperor, and then grabbed me by the shoulders.

“The Amulet of Kings! Where is it? It wasn’t on The Emperor’s body!”

I told him about The Emperor giving it to me and telling me to take it to this Jauffre fellow. Baurus went on about the Emperor trusting me and seeing something in me. He gave me a key and directions out of the underworld I had been stuck in since awakening on the cell floor. He told me where to find Jauffre and to get the Amulet of Kings there as soon as possible. Unfortunately, he also relieved me of Captain Renault’s katana. But that’s okay. I pulled it off. I was alive. I was free. I thought sure I would end up back in the cell when I met up with the guards again. They never even asked me my name!

* * *

My name…THINK!

So there I sat, on a crate at the end of a dock and I couldn’t have been more lost. I was just thankful to be out of that hellhole and alive.

Goblins? Zombies? The Nine?

I got up from the crate and walked back to the shore. Kneeling at the water’s edge, I looked at my reflection in the water. Perhaps I could get a clue to my identity by looking at my face. My skin had a slight yellowish hue, very slight. Long pointed ears framed either side of a face that appeared to be in its early thirties. Hazel eyes and an unassuming nose. Eyebrows slightly arched. I stood up and looked at my body closely for the first time. I couldn’t be more than about five feet tall. Everything looked proportionately correct.

At least THAT much looks normal, just too small.

What had the other prisoner said? “Wood elf”? I didn’t look like anyone I have met so far. The fact that the prisoner had called me one leads me to believe that a wood elf is recognizable as such, and perhaps not uncommon. Hopefully wood elves are held in high regard amongst the other races. Except for that prisoner, everyone else looked completely normal. Not counting goblins and zombies, of course. The fact that I am so much smaller could be a hazard. It had almost cost me my life already. The memory of the battle wounds I received in the room where the old man was slain made me wince.

I inventoried what I had brought out of that stink hole. A few more bottles of that amazing healing potion. Some gems, gold coins, lock picks, a hammer. My quiver was crammed full of iron arrows, almost to the breaking point. I was wearing a leather armor cuirass with a sizeable gash in its side, thanks to the old man’s murderer. What animal the leather is made from, I couldn’t tell you. But it is pretty tough. A pair of greaves covered with iron plates. The greaves are way too big and uncomfortable.

Better than the helmet…

I had found an iron helmet back in the passages. I tried to put it on, but my ears wouldn’t allow it, so I didn’t bother bringing it. I have some rough leather boots. Wrist irons which look like they are going to be awfully hard to remove. An iron bow that’s a bit rusty and a double-edged steel short sword. A staff of some kind that will shoot lightning on command. All of this stuff was heavy, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to carry it over a long distance.

I am sooooooo tired…

I considered lying down on the dock and sleeping. Hearing a wolf howl in the distance squelched that idea in a hurry. It also motivated me as I realized that the sun had set while I sat there and mused. I gathered my belongings and started up the hill. When I reached a break in the trees I stopped and stared in awe at the tallest tower I had ever seen. There were two other towers visible, but not nearly as tall. Massive stone walls surrounded these towers. The wolf howled again, closer this time. It appeared that there was an old and disused switchback pathway up the hill. My fatigue forced me to opt for the shallower slope of the old path rather than the steeper direct route. Another howl, closer yet. I drew my sword and kept a watchful eye. I did almost a complete about-face as the switchback rounded back on itself to continue up the hill. At that moment, a snarling mass of grey fur and gnashing teeth knocked me on my back, its momentum causing it to somersault past me. I sprang to my feet and spun on my heels, holding the sword in front of me. The wolf sprang again. Unfortunately for the wolf, but very fortunate for me, it landed chest first on the point of my sword. With a loud yelp that seemed to be cut off in mid utterance, we tumbled backward. It all happened so fast. One second a flash of fur and teeth, the next I was lying next to a dead wolf, its tongue hanging out and my sword buried to the hilt in its chest.

This whole place is trying to kill me!

I collected my belongings and scrambled as fast as my tired legs would carry me up the rest of the hill. When the terrain leveled out, I found myself at the base of a massive, curved stone masonry wall. I decided to continue along the wall in the same direction I had been heading. Plodding forward, following the wall that kept curving to my right, I reached a bridge. Large cauldrons of flame lit the far end. The end I had approached led to a wooden gate with a sign that read “Imperial Prison District”, written in those same characters that I could not decipher, but knew the meaning of anyway. I knew that wasn’t where I wanted to go, so I set out across the bridge. It was massive and made entirely of stone. Six people could walk side by side and not bump elbows. When I reached the wooden gates at the other end of the bridge, there was another sign. The sign read “Market District”.

I paused for a moment. I had managed to make it this far on mostly pure luck. Going through this door could change all that. But what other options did I have? I needed a place of safety where I could slow down and consider all of the ramifications of my current dilemma. Inside these walls should be safer than out here, but who or what would I encounter on the other side? The better seemed to outweigh the worse, so I made the choice to enter the Market District.

When I passed through the gate, I was surprised to find the street empty. Fortune was still smiling on me. I didn’t want to have to try and explain who I was or what I was doing. I didn’t have those answers. As I continued into the district, I began notice people walking about. I saw one fellow that was a walking reptile! I didn’t tarry to gain more details, but walked quickly in the other direction. Another person, wearing a long skirt and blouse was walking toward me. Just as she was about to go by, she stopped and said, “Hi there”. That didn’t surprise me as much as the fact that her head looked like a cats head! Her voice was deep for a woman, almost a growl.

Cats and lizards?

“Hello” I said and continued walking. So far, so good. No one yelling for a guard or trying to stop me and press me for information. I saw a sign that said “Merchants Inn”. An inn…bed, food, safety. I made for the door and entered the inn. The common room was filled with people. The sudden number of possible encounters gave me pause to continue inward. Some of the people were alone. Others were in groups of two or three. Some were eating at tables. Others were drinking at the bar. The aroma of cooked food and pipe smoke filled the air. The low toned conversations were comingled in a steady murmur, with an occasional laugh breaking through the drone. Steeling myself, I walked up to the publican at the bar.

“Hello. What can I do for you?” he asked.

“I’m looking for a place to sleep tonight,” I replied. “And something to eat.”

“I do have a bed available for twenty gold a night. Would you like to rent it?”

The innkeeper gave me a puzzled look as I tried to count gold coins in my shirt/satchel. I dug out twenty of coins I had found in the underground, hoping that each coin was indeed worth one “gold”. I placed them on the bar and shoved them toward the innkeeper.

“I’ll take it,” I said matter-of-factly.

The innkeeper still looked at me with that puzzled look, and then counted the coins as he slid them off the bar and into his hand.

“16…18…20. Very well then. It’s up the stairs there. First door on your left. Sleep well,” he said and started to turn away.

“Excuse me. I was hoping to get a bit to eat as well,” I reminded the man.

He stopped, turn toward me with the puzzled look again and said, “All rooms come with a meal at The Merchant’s Inn. You will find venison, corn, potatoes, and bread in your room, along with a few bottles of libation. My name is Velus Hosidius. I am the proprietor of this establishment. Let me know if you need anything else.”

With that, Velus turned away and placed the gold coins in a strongbox behind the bar. I made my way to the stairs. As I walked, I caught bits and pieces of conversations.

“The Emperor and all his sons, dead!”
“…see Maro Rufus at the Best Defense.”

I ascended the stairs and passed through a door into the second floor hallway. I reached the first door on the left, opened it, and entered the room. True to the innkeepers promise, food and bottles adorned the table to my left. But straight ahead of me was a bed. A bed! I disrobed immediately, piling my clothing and belongings at the foot of the bed. I walked to the wash basin and cleaned up as best I could. Drying off with the clean towel from next to the basin, I eyed the food. It smelled delicious. I sat at the table and ate until I thought I would burst. Sated and exhausted, I got up and got into bed. I didn’t have time to think of anything before I was sound asleep.

This post has been edited by TheOtherRick: Jan 26 2011, 01:30 PM

[TheOtherRick]

A great start !! I like the little details you've added to this to personalize it (like for instance, seeing the lockpick and listening for the tumblers to click - great detail !!!)


Can you put a link to your story on the "other site" into your signature?

It is the same story. I am editing (improving?) it as we speak. I sould have the rest of it uploaded here before the end of the night. And thank you for the compliment.

[TheOtherRick]

Chapter 2.1 – Finding My Way

I have no idea how long I slept. I opened my bedcovers and sat up. Before I stood up, I examined all of the wounds I had received the day before. There were scars from blade strikes and rat bites on my arms and legs. A particularly tender scar on my right side. But all the wounds had healed. Memories of potions and incantations and tangible health flooded my head. On the tails of those, memories of assassins, goblins, and rats closely followed. I had to get a handle on this situation. I still have no memory of anything at all before waking up in that cell. This was going to be a problem. It was one thing to walk into a crowded inn and procure a bed for the night. It was going to be quite another to move forward from here. I sat on the bed and thought about my dilemma.

Think of what you know. You are a Wood Elf, according to the only person that would identify you. You are at an inn. You are in an area known as the Market District, which is part of an even larger city. You have some money. You have a necklace with a large red stone that someone claiming to be your Emperor has given you charge over. You see writing on signs and bottles that are of an unknown set of characters. But you can still read them. You have the ability to incant powers, from within yourself and through at least one staff, by speaking words that sound like gibberish. But you know the meaning of the words. You can use a bow and sword as if you have been doing it all your life.

Can dreams last for days?

I stood up and went to the table. There was still food left from the night before. I sat down and began eating as I considered my options. I had two…stay here or not stay here. Staying meant paying twenty gold pieces a night until I ran out of money. Not staying meant interacting with the residents of this city and possibly revealing how vulnerable my current position was. I frowned at the thought of not even being able to introduce myself, or answer a simple question like what my name was. I finished eating, stood and dressed, grabbed my belongings…and sat back down on the bed. I needed a plan.

I could go out and just try to remain unnoticed, studying the people and actions around me. Figure out how to blend in that way. Yes! That was the plan.

I left the room and went downstairs. The common room was quiet. Only the innkeeper was there, wiping down the bar with a clean towel. He looked my way but said nothing as I walked toward the door. When I stepped outside, I was face to face with a man in dull brownish armor. We stared at each other for a minute, neither of us moving.

“What is it citizen?” he said.

I just stared back at him, dumbstruck. His expression began to change and I knew I better say something fast.

“I have some things I want to sell,” I blurted. I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

So much for unnoticed...

“Well, you’re in the right place then, eh Bosmer? Just look around. Shops everywhere. You might want to buy some proper clothes with the money you make. Those look like they came from a grave. Heh, heh, heh.”

Bosmer? Did this man know me? Was my name Bosmer?

With that, he walked away, still laughing. He must have been a guard, armored and armed as he was. I looked at myself. The guard was right. These articles still smelled, even after my dip in the lake. I stepped into the street and looked at the shop sign that was closest to me. “A Fighting Chance” it said, with a picture of a sword beneath the writing. I walked to the door and tried the latch. It was unlocked and I entered. All around were swords, daggers, and archery equipment. A stout woman wearing a metal breastplate stood behind the counter.

"Welcome to 'A Fighting Chance'. I'm Rohssan, proprietor. I sell the best swords in the City, and I offer Advanced Training for Armorers," she said.

I walked toward the counter. She was dark of complexion, muscled with obvious years of work with metal. At one time, she may have been pretty. The plan was to watch other people and mimic their actions. Unfortunately, she and I were the only ones there. I would have to wing it.

“Do you buy iron arrows?” I inquired.

Chuckling, she said, “Of course I do Bosmer! I’ll buy any weapon you have for the right price. And I do mean it will be the right price. Let’s look at those arrows.”

Bosmer again. Does everyone here know me?

I pulled my quiver over my shoulder and dumped all of the arrows on the counter.

“I’d like to keep 30 of these, but I’ll sell you as many of the rest as you want,” I said, trying to sound like I knew what I was doing.

“Well then,” she said, “let’s say you count out 30 of those and return them to your quiver while I examine the quality of these arrows, hmmm?”

I did as she said while she examined one of the arrows, looking down its shaft for straightness, feeling the fletching, gauging the weight of it by feel.

“I’ll give you one gold piece each for the lot. That is the right price.”

“It’s a deal,” I said.

She carried the arrows off and left me standing at the counter. I glanced around at the weapons she had on display. There was a very nice iron longsword lying on the counter, along with an impossibly large steel sword, and an iron shortsword. Rohssan returned and tossed a small pouch on the counter with a clink.

“It’s all there,” she said, “You can count it if you like.”

“That’s okay. I’ll trust you. How much does a sword like this go for?” I asked, gesturing toward the fine iron longsword.

“For that sword I’ll take back that pouch and a bit more, Bosmer.”

I frowned. I didn’t want to spend everything in the first shop I entered.

“Maybe I’ll come back later for that,” I said. My next question was a risk.

“Say, do you think you could remove these?” I asked holding up my wrists and exposing the irons clamped over them.

“You wouldn’t be the first parolee that I released from a pair of those.” She chuckled. “Step on back here.”

I walked around the counter while she picked up a chisel and a large one-handed sledge.

“Put your wrist on the counter,” she ordered.

No sooner was it on the counter than she placed the chisel between the cuff halves where they were pinned together and brought the sledge head down on it with a high arched swing. Visions of a horribly crushed wrist flashed briefly before my eyes. But it wasn’t to be. She deftly snapped all four pins in mere moments.

“There ya go Bosmer, free as a bird,” she said with a laugh, “Will there be anything else?”

“I think that will do it. Thank you very much,” I said, and smiled genuinely at her as I grabbed my quiver and left the store.

Well that wasn’t so bad. Let’s see what else I can sell.

I had a small collection of gems. There was a sign across the street that read “Red Diamond Jewelry”. Shrugging, I walked over to the jeweler’s shop, digging the gems out along the way. There was a stocky, pale skinned man behind the counter at the far end of the shop. I figured I’d play it the same way as the last shop. Expecting the same type of greeting, I strolled casually up to the counter.

“What?” was all the man said in a gruff tone.

“How much will you give me for these, my good man?” I said, trying my best to sound worldly as I placed the gems on the counter.

He just stared back for a moment, and then started perusing through the stones. He held the clearer ones up to the light and looked through them.

“Not the highest quality here. Many of these stones are flawed,” he said, pausing and tapping his forefinger to his chin.

“Tell ya what. I’ll give you 76 Septims for the entire pile. That offer is non-negotiable.”

I hope a septim is a gold piece.

“Deal.”

I continued this course of action at every shop that looked like it dealt in the goods I was carrying around in my shirt-bag. Some of the shop owners complained about a shop owner named Thoronir. I didn’t bother asking what their beef with the man was. I was too busy just trying to get in and out of these shops as quickly as I could. I found one shop called “The Best Defense”. The proprietor, a gentleman by the name of Maro Rufus, told me I hadn’t found him a moment too soon when he saw my armor. When I left his shop, I was had a brand spanking new leather cuirass, some new boots, and greaves made from fur pelts that were infinitely more comfortable than the over-sized iron pair I had walked in with. “The Gilded Carafe” bought all of my potions, except for the healing potions. I kept those. A place called “Rindir’s Staffs” was my next port of call. I walked in the door, and for the first time, I saw someone that looked like me.

“Hail fellow Bosmer! This is ‘Rindir’s Staffs’, and I’m Rindir. I sell magical staffs. Imagine that.”

Fellow Bosmer? So much for the chance that Bosmer was my name.

“Hail Bosmer,” I replied in kind, thinking it must be the right thing to say, “I found this staff and wondered if you might be interested in buying it. It shoots lightning out of the end of it. Well, you have to say a word first.”

I started to utter that gibberish sounding word –

“STOP!” he yelled, “We don’t want that thing going off in here now do we? Let me see it.”

He studied the staff for a minute.

“258 Septims,” he stated.

My jaw dropped. It was more than everything else I had sold combined.

“Do you think it is worth more than that?” he asked.

I closed my mouth with a snap and then said, “No. That will be fine.”

“Great! I’ll be right back.”

Rindir scurried off and returned with a small chest. He counted out my 258 gold pieces, thanked me and bid me a good day. As I walked out of Rindir’s shop, I stopped for a minute and looked at the people walking up and down the street. Very few of them were wearing armor. The guards were of course, but most of the common folk were dressed in clothing rather than armor. If I was going to fit in, I would need to dress accordingly. I found a shop called “Divine Elegance” that had just what I needed. Most of Palonyria’s goods were very fancy, fancier than I cared to wear. I wanted to blend in, not stand out. I settled on a brown quilted doublet, some linen pants, and a pair of moccasins.

I headed back to the inn. I was hungry and I wanted to change into my new clothes. When I entered, the innkeeper informed me that it would be another 20 gold to keep my room. I paid him the 20 and 5 more for his service. His demeanor immediately changed and he asked if I was hungry. After a delicious shepherd’s pie and a bottle of ale, I went up to my room and changed.

So far so good. Let’s go see about that sword.

As I left my room, I saw a book lying on a shelf in the hallway. Curious, I walked over and picked it up. “A Guide to Imperial City” was the title. I knew that I was in Imperial City from my visit to Rindir’s shop. Being a fellow Bosmer had caused Rindir to be a little chatty. This was perfect! Exactly what I needed. I went back in my room, kicked off my moccasins, and reclined on the bed to read.

The book was written by someone named Alessia Ottus. According to this, the man I had seen murdered in the underground was indeed this land’s Emperor. He was descended from someone named Tiber Septim, whom she also calls Lord Talos, “The Holy God of State and Law in our Blessed Nine Divines.” I paused for a minute. If the elderly man was The Emperor, then I needed to get rid of this necklace, this “Amulet of Kings”, before someone discovers that I have it and assumes I was responsible for the Emperor’s death. But information is valuable, especially for me right now, so I continued to read.

It seems that Imperial City is quite large. There were ten districts in all, of which I had seen only one. Well, that was not entirely true. I had seen the Imperial Prison District, albeit from inside an eight by twelve cell. I read on, trying to stifle that memory. This author doesn’t think very highly of any part of this city except for the Temple District, where she lives with her husband. The only other district she has anything nice to say about is the Arboretum. And even then, she complains about Talos taking up space where Akatosh should be. Every other district she describes as dirty and a place not to be. The guide ended with the line, “May the Nine bless you and keep you.”

The Nine.

Religion is a powerful force. It binds people together that might not be bound otherwise. “The Nine” was obviously a reference to The Nine Divines that she spoke of. Evidently, the religion of this land is centered on these Nine Divines, be they Gods or Saints. A good way for me to fit in around here would be to become better acquainted with this faith. But first things first. There was a particular sword that I wanted to buy, and I have to get rid of this amulet. As I closed the book, I noticed a folded sheet of parchment wedged into the jacket of the book cover. I removed it and unfolded it. It was a map. Roughly in the center was Imperial City, with the districts labeled. Directly on the spot labeled as The Market District was a point of light, as if a beam of sunlight was shining on it through a knot hole in a barn wall, only smaller. I rubbed the spot, moved the map, even shook it, but the highlight remained.

How odd.

More important to me was the fact that this map showed another location. Just north of due west from Imperial City was the place Baurus had mentioned. Chorrol. Jauffre was near Chorrol, at a place called Weynon Priory. I could not tell how far away Chorrol was as the map had no scale. I folded the map and placed it in my pocket. I was formulating a plan of action as I moved. Having resigned myself to the fact that I was stuck in this strange place, I decided that continuing to try to blend in and find my way around was best. First, I would pay “A Fighting Chance” another visit to procure that sword. If I had learned nothing else about this place, it was that being armed was beneficial to one’s health, and survival. Then I would try to get rid of this amulet, even if it meant journeying to Chorrol to do it.

This post has been edited by TheOtherRick: Jan 26 2011, 01:45 PM

[mALX]

A great start !! I like the little details you've added to this to personalize it (like for instance, seeing the lockpick and listening for the tumblers to click - great detail !!!)


Can you put a link to your story on the "other site" into your signature?

It is the same story. I am editing (improving?) it as we speak. I should have the rest of it uploaded here before the end of the night. And thank you for the compliment.

GAAAAAH!!! ** mALX was found dead in front of her PC **

[TheOtherRick]

Chapter 2.2 – Finding My Way

I replaced the book on the shelf in the hallway where I had found it. It wasn’t mine after all, and I didn’t need to be accused of stealing it. Hopefully no one would notice that I had kept the map. I headed down stairs and out to the street. The afternoon sun was lowering in the western sky and was starting to give an orange cast to the buildings. I went to the weapon shop. Rohssan greeted me with a smile when I walked in. I went straight to the counter.

“I am back to purchase this sword. How much did you say it was?” I said, lifting the fine iron longsword.

“That will cost you 126 Septims.”

“I’ll take it.”

I counted the gold coins onto the counter, keeping it in stacks of ten so I wouldn’t lose count. When I finished, she held the end of her blacksmith’s apron up and dragged the pile toward her with her other arm. The coins cascaded over the edge of the counter into her apron.

“Thank you very much. I think you will find that an excellent weapon, if you take care of it. You do know how to take care of it, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” I lied, “But perhaps you know techniques that I am unaware of. Could you show me what you know?”

“Teaching ain’t free, Bosmer, but I’ll show you a thing or two for, let’s say, fifty gold. What do you say?”

Reluctantly, I agreed and paid her fifty more gold pieces. She picked up an old rusty sword and showed me some general repair techniques, including how to use what she called a “repair hammer”. As luck would have it, I had found one of these hammers back in the underground and had not sold it yet.

“You will get better at it with practice.” She said, “To keep that sword in good condition, always make sure you are carrying a few repair hammers with you. I see that you have but one. Would you care to buy a few more? I have plenty.”

She showed me a case of them and said they cost 31 Septims each. I looked at my dwindling supply of cash and decided against it. She shrugged and said, “Suit yourself. Now if you don’t mind, I have work to do. Good day, Bosmer.”

I clipped the scabbard to my belt, thanked Rohssan, and left the shop. When I got outside, I pulled the sword from its scabbard, swung it a few times in a figure eight motion and acted out a couple of thrusts.

“Don’t hurt yourself with that thing, Bosmer,” A guard said as he passed behind me. Then he laughed heartily and continued on his patrol. Embarrassed, I resheathed the sword and started walking. I remembered seeing a book store earlier and set out to find it. Perhaps it would have a copy of the book I had read. When I reached the four way intersection in the center of the district, I glanced to my left and there it was. “The First Edition” the sign read. Across the street from it was another shop called “The Copious Coinpurse”. With such an interesting name, I decided to check out that shop first.

I entered the shop and was delighted to find that this shop was also owned by a Wood Elf. He was only the second one I had seen, though he did not seem to notice me. As I walked to the counter, I noticed an inscription on it. “Copious Coinpurse. The shop where your purse is just as full after you buy!" it read. The Wood Elf was studying what appeared to by an inventory sheet of some kind. I cleared my throat to get his attention.

“Well hello there. Thoronir is the name. What kind of deal can I make for you today?” he said with a smile that appeared less than genuine.

“I am trying to find a copy of ‘A Guide to the Imperial City’. You wouldn’t by chance have one, would you?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. It can be yours for the low, low price of 2 pieces of gold.”

“That does sound like a bargain. I’ll take it, thank you,” I replied. This would save me from having to go to the book store.

Thoronir walked over to a shelf along the wall filled with books. He thumbed through them for a moment, mumbling to himself as he searched.

“Ah. Here it is,” he said, pulling an exact replica of the book I had read earlier from the shelf. When he returned to the counter, I asked if he was familiar with the area outside of the city walls.

“I don’t get out of the city much, but I do know a little. Why?”

“I need to get to Chorrol, but I am from far away and do not know anything about this area,” I replied with a partial truth.

“Here from Valenwood are you?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yes. Valenwood. That’s right," I agreed with a lie, "Can you help me?”

Please don’t ask me any questions about Valenwood.

“Ah, Valenwood,” he paused and sighed, “I really must get there one day.”

I tensed, preparing to lie on the fly when he pressed me about Valenwood. He shook his head slightly as if to regain focus on the moment.

“Yes, Chorrol,” he continued, “There are four ways to get to Chorrol. You can walk. You can buy a horse and ride. You can procure transportation by horse drawn coach at Chestnut Handy Stables. The fourth method is probably not available to you, unless you happen to be a mage.” He paused. “Are you a mage?”

“No.”

“Then I won’t bother with telling you about the portals at the Mage’s Guild Halls,” he said.

“Where might Chestnut Handy Stables be located?” I asked.

“It’s right outside the city’s main gate, on the west side, through the Talos Plaza District.”

He gave me directions to the west gate. I gave him the two gold pieces and an extra one for his help regarding Chorrol.

“Thanks. I’ll try not to spend it in one place. Come back again,” he said with a touch of unmistakable sarcasm.

The sun had set while I was in The Copious Coinpurse. A waxing moon had risen and was trying to add its light to that of the street lamps. I made two more quick stops before heading back to the inn for a meal. “Three Brothers Trade Goods” to purchase a proper satchel and a return to Rindir’s because I had noticed that he had a variety of hoods to sell. I settled on a teal colored one that Rindir called a mages hood. It was very light and comfortable, much more so than the fur helmet I had bought from Maro Rufus. My tasks completed, I started walking back to the inn. I planned on getting an early start for Chorrol in the morning. The common room at the inn was starting to fill with dinner customers as I entered. I ordered some mutton and radish pie and a bottle of ale. I sat in the corner, not feeling confident enough yet to mingle with the other patrons.

When I finished eating, I sat back and enjoyed my bottle of ale. It was very refreshing on the heels of what I considered to be a successful day. I still didn’t know who I was, but I had managed to keep everyone else from finding out as well. Pouring the last of the ale down my throat, I rose, tipped the kitchen helper a gold piece as he cleared my table, and went up to my room. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day of travel and new places.

* * *

I had dressed in my armor, quiver slung over my left shoulder and bow snugged in behind it. My sword hung in its scabbard on my left side, clipped to the harness of my cuirass. I found the easiest way to carry my shield was to just wear it on my left forearm. My satchel was loaded with my clothing, my remaining bottles of healing potion, the repair hammer, a small amount of food, the mortar and pestle, and a couple of torches. A separate pocket inside the satchel held my coin purse and The Amulet of Kings. (Thoronir gave the coin purses away as a promotion for his business.) The satchel strap was over my left shoulder, allowing the bag to hang on my right side. A backpack would have been preferable, but there were none to be found. Still, the satchel held an amazing amount items. With everything loaded, there was room to spare. The two breast pockets of my cuirass held my lock picks in one and my map in the other.

Equipped this way, I walked out of the inn into bright morning sunshine. The air was brisk, and while I could see no frost, my breath came out in steamy puffs that vanished in the breeze as quickly as they formed. Remembering the directions that Thoronir gave me, I made my way toward the Talos Plaza District and the west gate of the city. Upon entering the Imperial Greenway, I was awestruck once again by the sheer size of the tower that rose from the city center. The Imperial Palace, I had learned from Alessia Ottus’ text, was built ages before the current tenants occupied it. How something so old and so tall could remain standing for so long was beyond me.

The Greenway itself was a broad stone walkway that made a complete circle. Inside the circle was the Imperial Palace. Walkways branched out from the Greenway like spokes on a wheel, one going to each of the six districts that made up the outer ring of the city. Between the spokes were six well maintained cemeteries. Thoronir had said to go right at the Greenway and then to follow the second walkway on my right into the Talos Plaza District. Entering the district through large wood and iron gates, it was immediately apparent that this portion of the city housed the wealthiest of its citizens. I only saw one business sign as I passed through the plaza in the district center, The Tiber Septim Hotel. I assumed that the rest of the buildings were residences.

I paused at the city’s west gate. It had taken me most of the morning to walk the distance from the inn to the gate. I stared at it and took a deep breath. I had found the city to be a place of safety after it seemed that this entire land was trying to kill me. But I had to get rid of this amulet. Just possessing it had to be dangerous. I hadn’t dared to let anyone know I had it. A guard looking as if he were about to speak was the last motivation I needed and I left Imperial City.

Outside of the city, the main road started immediately downhill and led to a bridge several score times more massive than the one I had crossed two nights ago. Just a few yards down the road on the right hand side was a cart path that led to what Thoronir told me would be Chestnut Handy Stables. He said to ask for Tappius Velvus, and that I couldn’t miss him because he always wore the most garish blue outfits. I walked toward the stable and saw a man clad in a bright blue velvet blouse and breeches. Garish was an understatement.

“Are you Tappius Velvus?” I asked, even though I already knew this must be him.

“Indeed I am sir,” he replied, and then just stared at me.

“Um, I am looking to hire a coach.”

“Well why didn’t you say so? Where might we be traveling to today?”

“Chorrol,” I said.

“The Black Road it is then. That will be 10 Septims, in advance please. Come on around the side here. You can load your belongings in --- “

“I’d prefer to keep my things with me, if that is okay.”

He looked me up and down for a moment, and then said, “Suit yourself.”

He opened the door to the coach and pulled down a retractable step, then held out his hand expectantly. I shrugged, took his hand and used it for leverage to enter the coach. I didn’t need his help, but it looked like he was offering. I realized I was mistaken when Tappius cleared his throat with his hand still extended.

“Oh,” I nervously chuckled, fishing out ten coins and placing them in his waiting hand, “sorry.”

He nodded and closed the door. Telling the driver that this fare was headed to Chorrol and imploring him not to dawdle, Tappius sent us on our way. As soon as we were on the main road, I heard a whip crack and we jolted forward so fast that I was thrown back in my seat. We were racing at breakneck speed, the staccato clack of the horse’s shoes on the stone settling into a rhythmic thrum. As we reached the bridge, I leaned to look out the window. I had learned from my map that Imperial City was actually located on an island in the middle of a large lake called Lake Rumare. Seeing the city this way from beyond its walls reaffirmed the immense size of it.

The road became much rougher once we were off of the bridge. I had to brace myself to keep from being beaten to death by the walls and ceiling. My head made contact with the roof more than once. The driver maintained this pace for the entire journey. I could swear we rounded curves with the coach being on only two wheels several times. The only time we slowed was when we met other traffic on the road. These were usually guards patrolling on horseback. One woman on a black horse actually passed us! But due to having to brace myself throughout the entire ride, I didn’t get to see much of the countryside. There was an occasional low stone building with a thatched roof. At one point we passed through what appeared to be a round stone building that had no roof. The landscape was forested hills with some pasture land.

We finally began to slow enough for me to look outside again. On our right was another low stone farmhouse with a thatched roof. Then just a little further, we passed what looked like a church and a large manor house with a slate roof. The coach slowed further and I could see a tall stone wall with ramparts and battlements. The coach slowed even more and came to a stop. How far we had traveled I could not gauge due to the insane speed we maintained, combined with the many curves in the road. A neatly dressed gentleman opened the door and lowered the step.

“I hope you had a pleasant journey sir,” the man said as I got out of the coach. My muscles were sore from trying to avoid death by bouncing.

“It was very pleasant,” I lied.

“Just follow the main road there to the south gate. Welcome to Chorrol.”

This post has been edited by TheOtherRick: Jan 26 2011, 02:02 PM

[mALX]

I just got a glimpse of where I think you are going with this story - and if so ... IT IS AWESOME !!!!!!!!


WOO HOO !!! If it is what I think it is, I will be on the edge of my seat !!! I thought about doing (what I think you may be doing) - but didn't think I could pull it off - I am so hugely intrigued if you are though !!!

[mALX]

OMG, you put another chapter up while I was reading that one !!! You may want to consider slowing down posting a bit - like a chapter every two days or so - give the readers time to get to each chapter before posting another.

You may also consider posting a link to your full story (either in your signature or in the "Author's Note") for anyone who wants to (or has time to) read ahead - that way you aren't overwhelming the readers that don't have much free time (like me, lol) - and who want to divide their free time up between many of the other wonderful stories on this site.


PS: Loving what I've seen so far !!!

This post has been edited by mALX: Jan 26 2011, 01:41 AM

[TheOtherRick]

OMG, you put another chapter up while I was reading that one !!! You may want to consider slowing down posting a bit - like a chapter every two days or so - give the readers time to get to each chapter before posting another.

You may also consider posting a link to your full story (either in your signature or in the "Author's Note") for anyone who wants to (or has time to) read ahead - that way you aren't overwhelming the readers that don't have much free time (like me, lol) - and who want to divide their free time up between many of the other wonderful stories on this site.


PS: Loving what I've seen so far !!!

I was going to post up to the point that I have reached with this on the other forum, but I guess it won't hurt to wait a bit like you said. Thank you very much for the compliments on both posts.

As to your previous post, it is actually kind of odd because I DO know where i am trying to take this. I don't know if it is what you're thinking it is, but like you said, pulling it off will be the challenge. Especially because this is a gameplay narrative. Which is to say I am playing almost exactly what you are reading. Obviously there are some embelishments with conversations, slight artistic license with game mechanics for realism (my satchel), and I am sure some people will recognize some mods I am using. But it is still just a play-by-play of the game.

[Acadian]

Welcome to Chorrol and to the arena of fan fiction! This is starting out as a very good story that is both clever and well-written!

Prologue and Chapter 1.1:

I have already screwed up. Instead of putting "Authors Note and Disclaimer" in the subject line, it should read "Part One". Is there a way to change that?
You can't, but you might PM a mod with your request - they can.

But starting to read a few has put a flow in my creative juices. (Go Buffy!)
Ok, right off the bat, you've got Buffy and I on your side!

I am posting it here because I would like feedback
The best way to get feedback is to read and comment on the stories of others. It is also a wonderful way to see and enjoy a variety of writing styles.

MY EARS ARE HUGE! WHAT IS GOING ON?
There was no way that armor was going to fit me though. It was way too big.
Buffy was giggling as she read this pair of lines. Get used to it! You're a wood elf!

Wouldn’t one kill me if he saw me in a red robe?
I have considered the same thing and come to the same conclusion. Nice touch!

Chapter 1.2:

Good use of flashbacks. More confusion over who or what our big eared hero is. Out of the prison and into an inn.

Chapter 2.1:

A delightful tour of the Market District, getting rid of those pesky wrist irons and finally the fortunate finding of a guidebook and map.

Bosmer? Did this man know me? Was my name Bosmer?
This was delightful and made perfect sense!

Chapter 2.2:

Ah, acquiring a serviceable weapon, more tour of the city and a brief on the transportation system. And finally, (whew!) we arrive in Chorrol!

One woman on a black horse actually passed us!
Now, everyone knows there are only five women in all of Cyrodiil who ride black horses. Four of them are riders for the Black Horse Courier, and the fifth is . . . Buffy!

* * *

I encourage constructive criticism.
Since you asked. . .

He slid down wall into a squat.
Here, I think you want to say 'slid down the wall'

“Chorrol.” I said.
Here you want a comma after Chorrol instead of a period because 'said' is an actual speech tag. This is just one example of numerous ones in the story. It is clear from your impressive level of skill that you have written before, but dialogue is tricky and new for most of us. I very much recommend you google 'dialogue punctuation' and study up on the intricacies of punctuating dialogue. A very necessary skill for fiction writers.

Slow down your posting. Prologue + 1.1 + 1.2 + 2.1 + 2.2 . . . My goodness! Give it a few days between updates so folks have time to get around to reading it. If readers get behind because you're posting too fast, they either give up or skim - you sure don't want either of those things! I know you have posted this on the Bethesda forums, but to folks here, it is all new. Don't lose them before you even really get started. Which leads into the next comment -

Limit posts to 1000 - 2000 words (not +3500 ). The trouble with long posts is that they invite skimming - and you don't want that! You would have been well served to just post your prologue, then wait a few days between each subsequent update. Then because of the length of 1.1 for example, it would have served well as two or three posts - again, with a few days in between each. You get the idea. Small delicious bites well-spaced.

[Jacki Dice]

Wouldn’t one kill me if he saw me in a red robe?

That's a very good point!

Bosmer? Did this man know me? Was my name Bosmer?

Very nicely written chapters, though I will agree that it's better to post slower so its easier to catch up

[TheOtherRick]

Some gratitude first...

@ mALX - Thanks for all of your compliments to date, and for starting to show me the brake pedal. I was so focused on getting it moved over that I hadn't considered that point.

@ Acadian - I haven't read for enough into Buffy's saga to know about the horse yet. If I had, he may have said, "...and she looked like me!" A sincere thanks to you for seeing to it that I found the brake pedal that mALX had pointed out, along with your advice. That was exactly what I wasn't getting at the "other" forum.

@ Jackie - Thanks for the cudos. Have no fear, the brakes are on now. I'm glad you got a kick out of, "Was my name Bosmer?" Truth be told, I chuckled myself when I typed it. I'm finding that's part of what makes this fun. WARNING! My sense of humor can be warped...just sayin'.

@ All - All posts will be under 2000 words and will have a minimum of 48 hours between them. Thanks again gang!

********************

Having arrived in Chorrol...

Chapter 3.1 – In Chorrol - New Experiences

Judging by the sun, the raucous coach ride from Imperial City had taken a couple of hours or so. Its position in the sky proclaimed early afternoon now. Adjusting my quiver and satchel, I started toward the city gate. The surrounding countryside was that of forested hills with deciduous and evergreen trees alike, the evergreens being in the minority. Songbirds chirped and whistled in the trees. A butterfly fluttered to and fro on the breeze in front of me, which brought a slight grin to my lips. The sun was warm, even if the air was not. Several of the deciduous trees had leaves that were beginning to change color. Something in my heart sang at the sight of woodlands.

I reached the gate to Chorrol. Painted on the gate was a large white tree within a round field of blue. A guard standing post at the gate had the same emblem emblazoned on his chainmail cuirass and his shield. He never took his eyes off of me and nodded in my direction as I passed through the gate. Once inside, I paused and took in the stark difference between this city and the one I had come from. The fine marble and granite masonry and crowded row houses of Imperial City were not present here. Instead, wood framed buildings with fieldstone or stucco masonry gave the town a rustic look. A large statue of a woman cradling a fallen soldier, surrounded by a low masonry wall, was the focal point of the town center. I moved closer to the statue. The artistry was awe inspiring. The patience that must have been required to carve the long thin stone sword, I can’t imagine. The artist's attention to detail was exquisite, although the finer details had weathered away.

Stop gawking at art and find Jauffre…

I moved on, walking toward a building with a sign on it. “The Oak & Crosier” it said. I stepped inside. I had seen cat-like people in Imperial City, but I hadn’t needed to speak directly with any of them. That streak of fortune was about to end because the proprietor of this inn was a female of that feline race. I considered turning around and leaving, and then decided that I might as well get acclimated to speaking with feline humanoids since there seemed to be so many. Still, I approached the bar uneasily.

“Welcome to the Oak and Crosier. This one is Talasma, your hostess. Our rooms and food are at your disposal,” she said with an air of formality.

She was about a head taller than me with a shapely figure. Her eyes were bright green. Her skin, or what I could see of it, was covered with very fine and short fur. Had I touched it, it might have been just slightly fuzzier than a peach. Several large earrings with gold colored baubles hung from both ears. The ears were set high on her head, just like a cat’s ears, poking through long blond hair that fell to her shoulders. Her entire face looked just like a cat’s. Not like a mouser that you might find sitting on top of a cupboard, but more like a lion or some other large cat. From the neck down, she looked basically human, except for the fuzzy skin, the feline look of her hands, and the tail that swished back and forth from time to time behind her blue velvet skirt.

“Hello. How much for a room, assuming you have one available?” I asked.

“I do have one and it is ten Septims for the night.”

“That’ll be fine,” I said and I slid ten gold coins across the bar.

“Very well sir. It is upstairs, the first room on your left,” she said, pointing to the stairs.

“Do you have a menu?”

“We do. Meals are available during business hours. Here you are,” she said, passing me a sheet of folded parchment.

I read the menu. Not as large a selection as The Merchant’s Inn. I selected some ham, cheese, bread, and a bottle of beer, then handed the menu back to Talasma. She took it and walked away, her tail swishing back and forth.

How does she avoid breaking glasses and bottles with that thing?

While I waited, I looked around the common room at the inn. There were wooden tables with benches along the walls in the main area. On the far wall was a large fireplace with a fire banked in it. The heat it produced was enough to be felt where I was sitting, but not overpowering.

Talasma returned with my food and wine. “Enjoy,” she said, and started to turn away.

“Wait…please. Forgive me, and I hope this is not rude, but I’m not from these parts. Could you tell me…um…what…are you?”

Talasma started laughing. I guess it was laughing. A kind of chuckle with purring mixed in.

“No offense was taken, Bosmer. Not many Khajiit in Valenwood, eh? Yes. This one is Khajiit.”

“Kajit,” I said, and she quickly corrected my pronunciation. She repeated it slowly and putting the inflection on the correct syllable.

“Kaah-ZHEET.” she said. I repeated the word again and this time it met with her approval.

“This one would be happy to tell you about our proud heritage, but that would take more time than this one has right now, and perhaps more time than you could spare. If you come back when this one is not so busy, then you can learn about Khajiit,” she told me.

“And the people that look like reptiles…what are they?” I inquired further.

She looked at me with what I can only assume was puzzlement.

“You really have been isolated, have you not, Bosmer?” she stated more than asked, “The reptilian ones are called Argonian. This one will not pretend to be able to tell you much more than that. Is there anything else?”

“No. You’ve been a great help. Thank you. What do I owe you for the food?”

“The first food comes with the room,” she replied and walked away.

I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I started eating, and in no time at all, my plate was clean. I leaned back and stretched on my stool, then stood and finished the last of my beer. I tossed a gratuity on the bar and thanked Talasma again.

“Thank you as well, Bosmer. This one is at your service should you require anything else.” she said. I couldn’t tell if she was smiling, but she sure was polite.

“Actually, there is one other thing. Do you know a man named Jauffre?”

“I cannot say that I do, but I have only been up from Leyawiin a short while now. I am sure if you ask around town, someone will know of this ‘Jauffre’, if he is indeed from these parts.”

“Okay. Thank you yet again,” I said. With that, I went back outside. Across the lane was another business establishment. Perhaps someone there would know where to find Jauffre. As I was crossing the lane, two large animals came running around the corner and plowed headlong into my side, sending me tumbling to the pavers. I jumped up and wheeled instantly on my attackers, drawing my sword.

There are wolves inside the town walls?

“NOOOOO! STOP!” yelled a female voice from behind me, “Bailey! Kezune! Come HERE!” the voice said again.

My attackers tucked their tails between their legs and walked toward me whimpering. I could see now that these were not wolves, but rather large dogs. I turned to see who had yelled. A pleasant looking, if not somewhat harried woman was walking toward me. She wore a blue and green dress. Fair skinned, with her dark hair up in a bun atop her head.

“I am so sorry sir,” she said, and then turned again toward the dogs, “Bailey and Kezune, get over here NOW!” she scolded.

She looked back at me and said, “They really are good dogs. They meant you no harm. Please forgive us,” the last part she said while looking at my drawn sword.

I glanced down at my sword, and then placed it back in its scabbard.

“You really should have those animals on a tether miss. I recently had a run in---”

“Really sir, they meant no harm. It was purely an accident,” she said.

“Well, that doesn’t change the fact that you would be mourning over dead pets had you not stopped me when you did.” I replied, with a little more force than I had intended. My heart was beginning to settle back to a normal beat.

“Well really! I told you it was an accident! Bailey! Kezune! Come. Let us leave this animal hater be!”

With that the woman stomped away up the lane. I just stared after her for a moment. She walked away with her nose in the air while Bailey and Kezune ran circles around her legs. Shaking my head with a sigh, I finished crossing the lane and entered Northern Goods & Trade.

At first I thought I had entered through the wrong door. There was no counter and no proprietor. There were crates and barrels, some paintings leaning against the wall. I heard some shuffling up the stairs to my left. I walked to the base of the stairs and looked up. My breath caught short as I saw a large lizard wearing a burgundy and black dress with gold embroidery.

Well…it is a day of firsts…you’ve talked to a cat, let’s go talk to a lizard…

I walked up the stairs and she started speaking before I reached the top.

“I have only the finest goods to buy and barter at Northern Goods and Trades. I’m Seed-Neeus, the proprietor. How can I help you?” she said in a low pitched, gravelly voice. Her skin was scaly, green on her head and fading into brown on her neck and chest. A tail, thick at its base and tapering to a point, trailed out from behind her dress. Small gold rings pierced her…ears?

“I am looking for a man named Jauffre. Have you heard of him?” I asked.

I could not discern her expression as she paused a moment. There was only the slightest change in the demeanor of her red, slit-pupil eyes.

“An old cleric with that name comes in now and then. Lives southeast of town on the Black Road, at Weynon Priory.” she replied.

“Thank you very much Miss…um…Madam…um…Thanks,” I fumbled.

I headed back down the stairs and out of the store. Talking to reptiles was disquieting and going to take some getting used to. At least now I know where to find Jauffre.

[Acadian]

A neat view of Chorrol as we traveled with your Bosmer seeing it for his first time.

Your descriptions are very good. You gave us a rich feel for the forest, city, central statue, a Khajiit, then later an Argonian.

'Something in my heart sang at the sight of woodlands.'
Ah yes. Breathe deeply of it, Bosmer!

'How does she avoid breaking glasses and bottles with that thing?'
When I had a great dane, the answer was to keep everything from tail level. Not sure with a Khajiit though.

Speaking of Khajiit, let's talk Khajiit speech for a moment. Well, ok, for a few moments. . . in fact for the rest of my comments -

“This one would be happy to tell you about our proud heritage, but that would take more time than this one has right now, and perhaps more time than you could spare. If you come back when this one is not so busy, then you can learn about Khajiit,” she told me.
Here you seem strong on using the traditional Khajiiti third person speech patterns. Since 'this one' is rather unique, using it three times in one passage can seem a tad redundant. If you want to do this, then you might want to work with phrasing ways to reduce the times she refers to herself. Then don't forget she can also refer to herself in third person by using her name: 'It would take more time than Talasma has right now'.

“I cannot say that I do, but I have only been up from Leyawiin a short while now. I am sure if you ask around town, someone will know of this ‘Jauffre’, if he is indeed from these parts.”
Now here, you jumped to the complete opposite, appearing to abandon your previously strict adherence to Talasma referring to herself in third person.

My recommendation? I would blend the two. Basically have your Khajiit speak more or less normally, with a few references to themselves in the third person. I wouldn't necessarily expect every Khajiit to speak the same, so I would not be surprised to see some speak very traditionally and others speak much more like humans and elves.

This post has been edited by Acadian: Jan 28 2011, 02:09 AM

[mALX]

From your description and encounter with the Khajiit - this was already shaping up to be my fave chapter of yours so far - Awesome Job !!! Then you added in the incident with the dogs - you had me rolling with that encounter !!! I can see how your writing began flowing from the first chapter, improving with each till you were able to produce this masterpiece in a few short chapters !!! I loved this one, my fave so far !!!

[Grits]

I’m enjoying your story, and I’m glad you’re posting it here! I love how you explained the marks on the map, and your description of the healing potion. I can already tell that I’ll like your sense of humor. I’ll be watching for more of the adventures of ‘Bosmer.’

[TheOtherRick]

A few thanks are in order...

@ Acadian - Great catch on the Talasma dialogue. It's pointing out those little things that are going to help improve my writing. Many thanks!

@ mALX - Thanks and I am glad you're enjoying it. As I was playing the game, Rena and her dogs really did come around the corner, and the idea was born.

@ Grits - Welcome to the story and thank you very much for the compliment.

********************

Chapter 3.2 – In Chorrol – Meeting Jauffre

The Black Road. Where had I heard that before? Oh yes…Tappius Velvus had said it, when I hired the coach. He said, “The Black road it is then…” So we must have traveled the Black Road to get here, and that must have been Weynon Priory that I saw as the coach began to slow.

I set off towards the town gate. The afternoon sun allowed for perhaps two or three hours of daylight. I hoped it would be a short walk. I did not want to be outside the town walls after dark. During the walk, I noticed that this area appeared to be foothills, building to a mountain range that I could see in the distance to the north. Long grasses and meadow weeds swayed in the breeze. I felt that same quickening of my pulse that I had felt on my arrival. Whether it was the woodlands or nerves, I wasn’t sure.

Before I knew it, Weynon Priory appeared as I rounded a gentle bend in the road. At a fork in the road, a sign proclaimed that Imperial City was to the right and someplace called Bruma was toward the left. The Bruma road pressed on northward through the priory grounds, passing under an enclosed loft on the right side of the house. I walked up to the manor door and knocked. No one answered and I knocked again as I slowly opened the door.

“Hello?” I said as I entered. I had barely closed the door when a man in a long brown robe walked toward me. His hair was cut tonsure style, a bushy ring surrounding a bald pate.

“Yes? May I help you?” he said.

“I am looking for Jauffre.”

“He is upstairs. Go ahead,” the man replied, pointing to the stairs and returning to a candlelit table where he had been reading.

I went up the stairs, nervous as a rabbit in a lion’s den. I had no clue what was going to happen when I spoke to Jauffre. I turned right at the top of the stairs and entered what appeared to be a study or office. A balding man with short grey hair sat behind a desk at the far end of the room. He was clad in the same type of brown robe that the other man wore. I walked toward him. This was not what I had expected to find. Baurus had told me that Jauffre was the “grandmaster” of his order. I thought surely that he would be a muscular, battle-hardened warrior. The man who sat before me looked to be anything but a warrior. He didn’t even look up until I had reached the desk.

“I’m Brother Jauffre. What do you want?” he said in a very direct manner.

“The Emperor sent me to find you,” I replied.

“Emperor Uriel? Do you know something about his death?”

“Yes. I was there when he died.”

I had Jauffre’s full attention now. He swept aside the papers he had been reading. I quickly opened my satchel. Hot danger flashed in Jauffre’s eyes and he tensed visibly, as if preparing to defend himself. I slowed my movements as I reached in and pulled out the Amulet of Kings. His eyes widened, staring at the amulet for a moment, then glaring back at me.

“You’d better explain yourself. Now!” he said. His tone clearly stated that he would brook no delay.

I explained the events that transpired in the underground beneath Imperial City, leaving out only the facts surrounding my illegal parole and memory loss. He sat patiently though the entire narrative, showing no change in emotion, even as I eased the amulet onto his desk. Only when I had mentioned the Emperor’s last words, “…close shut the jaws of Oblivion”, did his expression change at all. Not to one of alarm or surprise, but more like deep seated concern. He sat quiet for a few moments, staring at the amulet. Then he looked at me again and spoke.

“As unlikely as your story sounds, I believe you,” he said, “Only the strange destiny of Uriel Septim could have brought you to me carrying the Amulet of Kings.”

Relief flooded through me as if a dam had burst. Jauffre was staring at the amulet again. He reached out and slid it closer to him.

I did it! I have rid myself of that amulet and lived.

"Close shut the jaws of Oblivion,” he said, repeating the Emperor’s last words as he gazed at the red stone. “The Emperor seemed to perceive some threat from the demonic world of Oblivion.”

He went on for a bit about a prince of destruction and powerful barriers. He seemed to be talking more to himself than to me. I just stared dumbly and kept quiet. Then he looked directly at me. I hoped he was about to tell me I could be on my way.

“When an Emperor is crowned,” he continued, “he uses this Amulet to light the Dragonfires at the Temple of the One. With the Emperor dead and no new heir crowned, the Dragonfires in the Temple will be dark, for the first time in centuries. It may be that the Dragonfires protected us from a threat that only the Emperor was aware of.”

I stood there a moment, lost in everything the man had just said. I knew as much about what he was talking about as I did my own name at that moment. So far, thankfully, he hadn’t asked what that was. I started to ask for his leave, and then I remembered one other thing I was supposed to tell Jauffre. I owed Uriel Septim that much. If it wasn’t for the Emperor, I would still be in that foul cell.

“The Emperor said there is another heir,” I told him.

Jauffre leaned back in his chair and said, "I am one of the few who know of his existence. Uriel told me to deliver the boy somewhere safe when he was still just a baby. He never told me anything else about the baby, but I knew it was his son. From time to time he would ask about the child's progress. Now, it seems that this presumably illegitimate son is the heir to the Septim Throne, if he yet lives."

Then he leaned forward, looking me dead in the eyes, "His name is Martin. He serves Akatosh in the Chapel in the city of Kvatch, south of here. You must go to Kvatch and find him at once.”

Do what?

“If the enemy is aware of his existence, as seems likely, he is in terrible danger. Although my resources here are limited, I will help in any way I can," he said as he stood.

Find Martin?

Jauffre walked out from behind his desk to a chest next to the wall. He pulled a key from his robe and unlocked it, saying, “Here, help yourself to whatever you may need,” and then returned to his chair.

My head was reeling.

Go to Kvatch? The enemy? Terrible danger?

I was speechless.

You’d better do something... Move... Speak… SOMETHING!

I walked over to the chest and opened it, more to stall for time than anything else. There was an array of weapons, armor, and potions in the chest.

THINK! What are you going to do?

A quiver of steel arrows and a steel bow caught my eye. They were obviously of a higher quality than the bow and arrows that I was carrying. Still trying to figure out my next move, I swapped the bow and quiver for my own.

I just traveled in the coach of bouncing bruises to get OUT of danger, not head right back into it! THINK you knot-head!

Looking at the bottles of potion, I remembered how much money I had made selling them in Imperial City. I grabbed every bottle in the chest, not bothering to read the labels. None of the armor looked any better than what I already had. I rummaged through the chest in an attempt to look like I wasn’t finished.

You can’t stand here forever… THINK! Run... Just RUN!

I inhaled deeply as I slowly closed the chest. I stood up straight and adjusted my new quiver and bow. Then without another word, I bolted for the stairs. I took the stairs three at a time until I was down them, and then I was out the door before I heard a word from Jauffre or his assistant. The door slammed loudly behind me. A stable hand stopped when he heard it and I almost knocked him over. I ran as fast as my short legs would carry me, back up the road toward Chorrol. I glanced back only once to check for pursuit and saw none. I didn’t slow down until I reached the south gate. Once inside the walls, I continued my dash straight for the inn. Bursting through the door drew a sudden growl from Talasma. I didn’t hesitate. I sprinted up the stairs to my room, entered, closed the door and locked it. I stood there panting for a minute, listening at the door for sounds of anyone coming up the stairs. I heard nothing. Out of breath, I sat on the bed. I intended to eat from my satchel and not to leave the room for the rest of the night. I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes.

I made the smart decision. Yes. I can’t go looking for heirs. I still don’t even know who I am! I owed the slain Emperor a debt, but a stranger in a strange land could only help a bandit’s coin purse, or an undertaker. Yes. I did make the right decision. I have no intention of dying to help a dead Emperor. Yes. It was the smart thing to do…

[Acadian]

This was great fun! You did the full measure of justice to a scene that all of us are delightfully familiar with! Well done!

'I went up the stairs, nervous as a rabbit in a lion’s den.'
Even though 'Bosmer' doesn't realize what a wood elf actually is, this is a perfect reaction!

“You’d better explain yourself. Now!” he said. His tone clearly stated that he would brook no delay.
…You must go to Kvatch and find him at once.”
Now, bear in mind, Buffy's reaction at this point in her story was to drop the amulet on the rude man's desk, deliver him a 'You're not the boss of me!' speech and storm out of the Priory. I was delighted to see Bosmer's reaction:

'Do what?'
Brilliant, Rick!
'I just traveled in the coach of bouncing bruises to get OUT of danger, not head right back into it! THINK you knot-head!'
Doubly brilliant, not to mention the extra wood elf reference (knot head).
'I have no intention of dying to help a dead Emperor. Yes. It was the smart thing to do…'
I agree!!!

Segueing toward the more technical end of things, let me say that your post length was great here and I'm pleased that you allowed a bit of a 'resting' period before updating. Let me also say that you obviously took my advice and did a little digging on the pesky subject of dialogue punctuation. Nicely done on that count.

Nit?
'I set off towards the town gate.'
'I had barely closed the door when a man in a long brown robe walked toward me.'
Towards vs toward. Firstly, you should select one and be consistent. Secondly, in selecting which to use, you will find that both mean the same thing; toward is generally recognized as the US version, while towards tends to be preferred in the UK. My recommendation? Use toward only.