This is the autobiographical journal of Arvil Bren, a somewhat reluctant hero who has been placed on an unknown quest by powers that he barely knows exist. Follow his journey as it is updated daily, Monday through Friday, and enjoy! These are the most recent entries in Arvil Bren's third journal; Politics of the Redoran. His first journal can be found in its entirety here. His second journal, Trail of the Archmage can be found here.

Thursday, May 12, 2005

Day 114: Warlock

I am writing early, for tonight the guild hall will be celebrating my promotion. Edwinna has declared me a warlock. Many of my friends from the hall in Balmora have already arrived. With Ajira providing the beverages I am sure I will not be able to write later.

I may be the next Archmage of Vvardenfell. That remains to be seen. For now though I am just a wandering mage. Today I wandered a long way, and my feet hurt. Like any day on the roads of Morrowind danger was ready at hand. As I approached Ald-ruhn with the sun settling behind me in the west I found an opportunity to stand for safety and security. Perhaps the Ashlander couple that I met will speak well of me when they return to their clan.

I met Falanu Indaren first. She was standing atop a small hill peering into the desolate ashlands around her. I turned slightly from my path and approached. She was scraped a bit, and her clothes dirty and torn. I thought briefly of putting an arrow through her; fearing that she could be maddened with the corprus disease. She shouted, and I did not act on the thought.

"Outlander! I need your help! My husband is lost!" she cried.

I trudged up the gritty ash slope to get whatever details I could. I don't know what it is about the Dunmer. They generally use 'outlander' as the next best thing to a curse, but it doesn't even register on them that calling me outlander and then asking for help is a contradiction. As my father would say; 'strange ways aren't strange to strange folk. Never be surprised.' Whatever she wanted to call me there was no way I would refuse aid to a distressed traveler.

Falanu and her husband Drerel had been headed into town to trade for basic necessities when they were attacked by a pack of nix hounds. It occurred to me that someone who didn't have the weapons skills of spells to deal with nix hounds ought not be standing on a hill top in the Ashlands. I turned a wary eye to the skies and scanned for cliff racers. Falanu had fallen down, and the only thing she could think to do was be still, hoping the hound pack would think her dead. Her husband had run, leading the hounds away from her. She thought he had headed west.

I led her down the hill and settled her in a thicket of trama vine, then set off to the west looking for tracks. The recent ash storm had left a clean slate, and the scene of the attack was fairly easy to find. To the west was a sandy ridge crowned with a spine of rock pinnacles. As I climbed the slope I thought that among those pinnacles would be where I would seek shelter if I were being swarmed by nix hounds. Sure enough, between two close set rock faces I found the battered Dunmer. He had driven off the hounds once he got his back to the stone, but was too battered to risk being caught in the open.

Drerel was thrilled to hear that his wife was alive, and for the most part unharmed. He was also very happy when I cast a healing spell that eased his own wounds. I led him to the thicket and was warmed by the reunion of the happy couple. Most of their trade goods had been scattered and lost in the frantic activity so I did not expect any reward, but they did give me a book to add to my collection.

That collection of books is filling my room here in the guild hall, but the real prizes I will take with me when I leave. I spoke briefly with Tuls Valen at the temple, and my next pilgrimage will take me to Koal Cave, which is near Gnissis. I will deliver my Dwemer books to Baladas and we will see what he can decipher from them.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thanks for making me smile. Funnily enough, I too met that woman just outside Ald-Ruhn and, once again, her husband had got chased off by nix hounds. Will these Dunmer never learn?

8:34 AM  

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