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

[mirocu]

Sounds like Manuin aspires to live the life of Kahreem

[Acadian]

Gosh, Manuin is really giving us a tour of the Cyrodiilic jails! Hmm, maybe he should try farming?

[Lopov]

@mirocu - living like Kahreem is a dream of every bandit.

@Acadian - farming? Nope, too much hard work for Manuin.

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Manuin spent the night with the woman he was supposed to kill. Arnora Auria. While being a guest in the Bruma dungeon, he met her ex-boyfriend Jorundr, who told him a story about his girlfriend and their crime spree all over Cyrodiil which ended with Arnora killing a guard and blaming Jorundr for it. But he tricked her as well – he hid the gold stash from their robberies and Arnora had no idea where to search for it. As revenge, he asked Manuin to kill Arnora and bring him her amulet as a proof, and in return he would reveal the location of the gold stash.

Arnora’s story differed from Jorundr and to make it even more believable, she invited Manuin to her bedroom. He didn’t complain, especially not after spending five months in jail, but he still believed Jorundr more. Arnora gave Manuin her amulet as a fake proof and in return she’d share gold with him. But Jorundr promised more – if he kills Arnora, he can keep entire gold for himself. No need to share it with anyone.

Manuin’s never killed before, at least not as part of some scheme. As Arnora was sleeping soundly next to him, he thought that he’d probably get away with her murder and she wouldn’t even feel a thing…

…later…

Arnora Auria was lying dead in the pool of her own blood. Manuin was standing beside, regretfully looking at her lifeless body.

“Maybe you deserved that…or maybe you didn’t. In any case, the one who killed you, is dead as well.”

And so it was. When Manuin earlier this morning lied to Jorundr about Arnora’s death, she was in fact alive and he showed him her fake amulet as a proof. Jorundr in return revealed him the location of the gold cache but there Manuin was ambushed by Tyrellus Logellus, Bruma guard who wanted to claim the gold as well and thus killed Arnora to ensure that gold needn’t be shared with anyone.

Manuin got rid of Tyrellus, grabbed Jorundr’s gold and ran to Arnora’s house to check whether Tyrellus spoke the truth. Turns out he did.

‘Well, no need to share the gold now. But I better leave the town before guards find the corpse.’

[Acadian]

'Kill 'em all and let the gods sort them out!'

Well, seems like he's got a full coin purse now.

I wonder if Manuin will get a visit from the guild of assassins now?

This post has been edited by Acadian: Mar 2 2016, 04:16 PM

[Lopov]

I thought I maybe didn't write it clear enough. He didn't kill Arnora, Tyrellus did. And killing Tyrellus doesn't trigger the DB questline because he attacks first.

[Acadian]

Oh, thanks for explaining. That all does sound a bit more like Manuin.

[Lopov]

Yeah, though he had occasional thoughts about killing Arnora, he decided not to cross the line. I guess he's going the stay just an acrobat.

[Renee]

Yes, I'm glad you explained that, at first I also thought Maniun was her killer. Yikes. But at least it sounds like he did some hard time. Yuck. Bruma's jail is the worst, in Kahreem's opinion, and I think I agree.

[Grits]

Lopov, Manuin’s antics are so entertaining! I love his plan for a safe guard escort to the Imperial City. Wow, that’s a lot of jail time for a wood elf. Good thing his cellmate sent him straight to his lonely ex-girlfriend’s bedchamber. I was glad to read that our grinning acrobat didn’t kill Arnora after all.

Renee, I am so impressed by your quests for Sarah. How awesome to have her really able to do her thing in the game! I love that Kahreem’s idea of a good fight is one he watches from his stolen horse.

[Renee]

First Seed 12, 3rd Era 427

"Good evening marm."

"Thank you. Nice to see you. And how are they?"

"Oh you know, rambunctious as usual. Couldn't keep them quiet during nap-time. Well, most of them, anyways."

"I trust that Gracie kept her finger out of her nose?"

"Yes of course, marm. I've got her ... I mean we've got her .. ahh... 'nosing' habits under control."


.... the chitchat began between the two ladies, here in Honorhall Orphanage, located in the township of Riften, and southeastern Skyrim. Two guardians of children, intent on sharing accounts, comparing the various facets of their charges, making sure their boys and girls were relatively safe, and relatively well-behaved. It was their job to make sure their formerly homeless youngsters would not wind up as miscreants, befouling Lady Mara, running around Riften without clothes on, or dinner for a troll, or ... worse.

"And what of Bognod the orc?"

"The orc? You mean the one with green skin?"

"Very funny, Charlotta, you know, you are a bellyful of laughs."

"Sorry marm," Charlotta replies, sheepish. "Bognod was raucous as usual. Playing his usual tricks upon us, but after one visit to the closet with no lunchmeat? Well that set him to rights."

"I see. Unfortunate, but you know how orcs are. We can only try our best."

"Yes marm."

"And what of her?"

"What of her? .. sorry. Who?"

"Her, over by the fire. With the red hair. She is new, is she not?"

"Oh! My. Yes! Where has my mind been, marm? ... Yes, she is new. My apologies. She's been so quiet all day, you see. Merely forgot she was even here," Charlotta had said, as she began to gather her things.

"Well? What is her name? Where did we scrounge her up?"

"Sorry marm. Her name's Sarah. Well, so said the note we found upon her person this morn. 'Sarah Phmm' said this note. Not much to go by, I'm afraid. Typical waif. No elders accompanied her, she was all by her lonesome when discovered. Sarah was found over by the chapel, staring into the sky. Hasn't spoken a word, marm."

"Not a word, eh? Wouldn't it be nice to infect the others with whatever's holding her tongue, eh?"

Charlotta had giggled over that one. So rare for her boss to make any sort of joke. But then the moment had passed.

"Well ahm ... Sarah has just been sitting there all day, as I said. She stares and stares into that hearth. Practically had to hold her hand just to feed her supper."

"I see. And how about Trellis the youthful mage? Any sort of--"

"MARM, BY THE NINE!"

"I ... what?"

"IT'S HER! SARAH. GRAB HER OUT OF THERE AT ONCE!"

"SARAH, by Akatosh, my child!"

"She's IN the fire, DO SOMETHING!"

Flames had licked and singed the clothes upon her. Smoke curling in air, the other children stirring from activities. A guileful look of curiosity upon her face, as the two elder orphanage guardians rushed to grab and save her from a certain, burning death.

"Urrgh!" Charlotta got there first, pushing the red-haired girl with necessary force, while making sure her own hands would not bear any burnings, for Sarah's ankle-length skirt and half her blouse were now engulfed. "Are you alright? Are you HURT? ANSWER me, child, ANSWER ME!"

But six year-old Sarah Phimm could not do so, not just yet, and not for many days. Why did you push me away? she might have asked, if she could speak at that point. It's only fire. It's only warmth. Do you not crave such warmth? Do you not crave such fire?

"What are we to do with her marm? What can we do?"

Sundas, Heartfire 16

As was mentioned before and prior, one note, and then another have been placed within my room's oaken drawer-set, as I soundly slept. And then for days, now nearly a week, not a word. Not a word from my aspring aspiring letter-writer. My admirer, perhaps. But of course, this has changed. For now I present to you, my diary, the fourth note, found not within my drawer-set this time, but casually strewn upon my room's floor. And this one, well, it was apparently abandoned not as I slept this time, but as I toiled. Some-body traipsed within my dormicile, this time while I was cooking for Mog.

'Dearest Sarah', it begins. "This is to let you know that soon, you shall meet somebody in representation of me. A dark elf shall enter your place of employ very soon. And I have instructed her to be wearing a green hood. You are to serve the woman, and listen to her message...

... "Again", it continues.... "many apologies that I cannot meet firsthand. As I have said before, all shall be explained." And it is signed 'Matilde'.

Matilde. Oh, where are you Matilde, and are you trying to drive me mad?

Can it be?

Another Note?

Matilde's Request

This post has been edited by Renee: Mar 4 2016, 05:37 AM

[Lopov]

That's a great story, my favorite of Sarah so far. You did well with a peak into her past in Skyrim (in a familiar place) and then shift us back to present as the mystery around Sarah is about to begin to unveil.

[Acadian]

Very neat stuff, Renee, as you incorporate both provinces into this story. I had to chuckle over the massive challenge I'm sure any humans would face trying to raise an orc child.

And Sarah - how eerie - her silence and obviously intimate comfort with fire. Very mysterious!

[Lopov]

@Grits - thanks! Unfortunately Manuin wasn't free for a long time as it's evident below...

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“Twelve noon, and all’s well. Everything all right, sir?” the legionnaire riding a fine bay horse asked the Wood Elf, riding a fine white mare.

“Couldn’t be better, sir. Such a fine day and with you around, WE all feel safe. Say…any news about that infamous Gray Fox? You know, the supposed leader of some miscreant guild? Is he already rotting like scum in some prison?”

"He's that thief that the Imperial Watch are always going on about. He likes to steal from rich folk."

“So I’ve heard too. He must have something against nobility, blasted thief. And that Captain…what’s his name? Hieronymus Lex? He’s the one that’s trying to catch him, right?”

“Yeah. I’ve heard or him. Isn’t he a soldier or guardsman in the Imperial City?”

“Yeah and just between the two of us…he’s not very good at what he does. I heard that all he ever did with an attempt to capture the fox, was to personally place all wanted posters around the Imperial City.”

“Farewell.”

“Good day.”

It was a good day for Manuin indeed, he had no reason to be in a bad mood. Not at all. He’s been slowly riding from Bruma back to the Imperial City after delivering his first batch of stolen goodies to Ongar the World Weary, most of them rings and necklaces from the Red Diamond Jewelry, which Manuin emptied a few days ago. He was a freshman in the Thieves Guild and he wanted to prove his worth as soon as possible. Ongar had good news for him – apparently he fenced enough gold for Armand to be considered worthy a special assignment. He’s been out of jail only for a week but the career ahead looked as bright as the blue sky over Cyrodiil.

But…

…Manuin’s been so absorbed in his own thoughts that he completely forgot about riding a pearl white mare which he took without allowance from Chestnut Handy Stables when departing for Bruma. Although the theft has gone unnoticed at that moment, pearl white horses weren’t that common in Cyrodiil and word obviously got around about one of them being stolen from the Imperial City’s stables without paying. So when he climbed into its saddle after a refreshing watermelon snack at Aleswell, the village of invisibles, one of the town inhabitants, invisible of course, recognized the mare and decided to punish Manuin for his mischief. Wanting to avoid the fight, Manuin hastily rode west along the Red Ring Road, and as he was about to descend the hill above Fort Empire, two Imperial legionnaires spotted him and ran in his direction.

“Uh oh. They recognized me as well. I’m too damn popular!”

He tried to turn the mare around and ride back but the legionnaire was quicker, he grabbed the mare for its reins and boomingly said: “Break the law on my watch, will ya? I'll be confiscating your stolen goods. Oh, and no gold to pay your fine, hmm? It's off to the lockup then!"

The other legionnaire came running from behind and with a devious smile told Manuin that his bounty stands at exactly 7,700 septims. The Bosmer was astonished – he had no idea how guards came to such a bounty – from what other shadow friends told him, the bounty for horse theft was 2,000 septims. However, he was probably seen by many invisibles at Aleswell when mounting the stolen mare. But how did they add another 700 septims? As a bonus for returnees?

In any case, Manuin figured it’s better to dismount and surrender peacefully. The only stolen items in his possession were the key to the Imperial Palace, taken from Chancellor Ocato himself, and a bouquet of flowers, taken from the Gilded Carafe. And seventy-seven days in prison is still better than five months.

“I’ll go with you peacefully, soldiers…and prove my innocence from behind the bars.”

“Hope you rot, criminal scum.”

__

The unusually high bounty is probably an interaction of the Adjustable Bounty Mod and Kuertee's Horse Comamnds Mod but I don't exactly know how such a high value was gained.

[Acadian]

As soon as you revealed Manuin was astride a ‘fine white mare’ I knew where this was going. It is a good thing that elves live for a long time, since Manuin seems to spending many of his days in jail! At least his guild seems impressed with him.

[Grits]

Renee, I enjoyed the eerie peek into Sarah's past. Standing IN the fire! Yikes.

Lopov, that's a long time in prison for just one free horse ride. Makes me feel worse for Manuin than for the person who's missing their pearl white mare. I found it somehow charming that he was carrying stolen flowers.

[Renee]

Conversation craking me up over here! Did you forget about the invisible residents of Aleswell? It seems like you genuinely forgot about them, and then he wound up getting seen stealing that horse.

This post has been edited by Renee: Mar 5 2016, 10:41 PM

[Callidus Thorn]

The Journal of Ralyn Orethi

1st Entry; Anvil, 3E 433. 31 Last Seed.

The worst thing about mercenary is work is having to do things the client's way, because most of the time a client wouldn't know a battle if it took place in their own home. That's one of the reasons I've joined the Fighters Guild, at least they'll know what they're sending me into. Which means I'll know what they're sending me into.

Take the Mages Guild, for example. The Anvil branch is run by an Altmer woman named Carahil. Typical Altmer ice-queen. Beautiful, arrogant, and she'd freeze you solid if you tried to get close to her. Which is something of a shame really, since Altmer don't tend to show their age until at least their third century, and by that time they can be very experienced. From her I learnt that in order to get access to the services I want from the Mages Guild, I need to secure a recommendation from every guildhall in Cyrodiil. And what did it take to secure Carahil's recommendation?

A string of attacks on merchants had been carried out by a rogue mage, in the vicinity of the Brina Cross Inn. But I wasn't being sent to deal with the threat. I was the bait. I was sent to the Inn, gussied up in clothes that were provided for me(And that I was recommended to hang onto. The Mages Guild seem to be snobs for this sort of thing), to make contact with a Breton woman who was one of the two Battlemages who would, hopefully, be hauling my arse out of the fire. Though this rogue mage seemed to favour frost spells, so perhaps that's not the right term.

Two things immediately struck me about this: Firstly, that if the mage was only attacking merchants, then someone had to be tipping them off. And secondly, that the only place they could pick their victims out there was the Inn. So it was no surprise that someone overheard me talking to the innkeeper. I'd told him that I was a merchant, and I looked the part in those ridiculous clothes. What did take me by surprise was that it was an Altmer woman who asked me if I was concerned about the recent attacks. She sounded pretty scared, but didn't act it. This really alarmed me. If this rogue mage had an Altmer as a lackey, I thought to myself, then how powerful must they be?

But, I had a job to do. So after I'd spoken to my contact and had a decent meal, I turned in for the night, as ordered. I didn't sleep well. I've walked into ambushed before, sometimes I've even done so knowingly. But walking into one unarmed and unarmoured, with nothing between me and death but a pair of strangers, was unsettling. I know that the armour wouldn't have helped against a mage, but it still felt weird to leave it behind. And leaving my sword behind was even worse. I'd picked up a few spells in Anvil to replace some of
what I'd lost, but by no means were they enough to rely on. Fortunately this made me look the part even more; a merchant who'd spent the night worrying about being ambushed on the road.

In one crucial respect I'd been wrong, I learnt as I headed along the road. That Altmer woman wasn't the mage's lackey, she was the rogue mage. So I did the only thing I could do. I ran, jinking from side to side, balls of glittering frost wafting past me as I strained my ears for the sounds of armour clanking against itself. The Battlemages had had to hang back quite some distance, to avoid being heard, but once the saw me racing back towards them, they came rushing to my aid.

The rogue mage called a dremora to her side as the Battlemages closed in on her from opposite sides of the road, following it up with a powerful shield spell. The first swings from the Battlemages just glanced aside from her, and her spells left patches of ice on their armour, often melted by a blast of flame from the dremora. I watched, utterly outclassed, even had I been armed as the two Battlemages wore the rogue mage down. She grew ever more frantic as her efforts failed to bring the duo down, until one of them put a sword through her as her shield spell crumbled. The Battlemages waited until she'd bled out, then headed on their way with only a nod in my direction.

But at least I didn't walk away empty handed. The Battlemages hadn't bothered checking the body, so I helped myself to the powerful potions that the rogue mage had been carrying, which had somehow survived the battle. Two of them are healing potions, and if I'd had one of these back in Balmora my left arm would be fine. The other two are for restoring magicka, I'm not sure if I'll hang onto them for later, or just sell them.

Either way, I've gotten my recommendation. And no small amount of satisfaction at witnessing Carahil's reaction when I told her that the rogue mage had been an Altmer woman. She's even more attractive when she's angry, it seems to warm her up a little.

[Renee]

Awesome Rayln, that's some pretty intense writing there. Indeed, Carahil (along with a couple other female NPCs) seem more attractive when she's angry.

[Lopov]

@Acadian - indeed, I slightly hinted at things going wrong by mentioning the fine white mare because Manuin is far from being able to afford a new horse, even less a white one.

@Grits - I'm glad you noticed the bouquet of flowers. He wanted to give them to Methredhel but oh well...he'll steal another.

@Renee - I forgot about them because I didn't see them.

@Callidus - good and thoughtful description of the Anvil's recommendation quest through Ralyn's eyes. I liked the reference to Balmora.

__

Hieronymus Lex was furious!

Enraged!

Mad!

He’s been humiliated yet again by the Thieves Guild! His superior Phillida might claim that no such thing as a guild of thieves exists, but Lex knew better. While sleeping, someone sneaked into his supposed-to-be-protected office, stole the list of tax records for Waterfront residents and the gold of course… but that wasn’t the worst part.

No, the worst part was that whoever did this, placed around Lex bottles of mead and ale, one was placed next to his cheek, the other one between his legs!, there were paint brushes all over his clothes which were now completely dirty, tomatoes were all over his pillow and of course he crushed them while turning in bed.

Merchants in the Imperial City were furious too, especially Calindil of the Mystic Emporium and Claudette Perrick of the Gilded Carafe. Their shops have been ransacked again in a very short time and the Imperial Legion as usual didn’t find any culprits. “The best what Lex did, was to blame everything on the Thieves Guild,” they said.

A few miles up north in Bruma, Manuin was sitting behind the desk at Olav’s Tap and Tack together with Ongar the World-Weary, drinking beer and “exchanging” goods – most of them belonged to Calindil and Claudette Perrick.

“And the last thing for today is this Cyrodiilic Brandy.” Manuin winked and pulled the bottle out of the sack.

“Taken from one fine alchemist down south who prefers to have drinks on shelves instead in cellars. And it’s all for you. No need to share it with anyone.”

“I’m glad that’s over. I need a nap,” yawned Ongar in return.

[mirocu]

I´m glad to see that someone is filling in for Lothran now that he´s left Bruma