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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.

Friday, June 17, 2005

Day 140: What to do?

I have learned that keeping my journal keeps me calm. It focuses my thoughts. Reminds me of things I may have otherwise forgotten. It is a practice, and a habit. Tonight I can barely bring pen to paper, but I have no idea how else to carry on.

I woke this morning well rested, in the chamber of the vanquished wizard Anirne. My store of magica was renewed, I was well, and armed with a staff that would allow me to claim my place among the elite of the mage's guild. It could easily have been a perfect day. I ignored any possible loot that may have lay with other denizens of the cavern of Sud and cast my recall spell. Even before I returned to Ranis in Balmora to raise my staff and be declared a wizard I wanted to share my triumph with Ahnassi.

Her beautiful eyes, with the slitted pupils of a cat, flew wide as I spoke of my perilous battles to claim the staff. She is funny. She hissed with outrage as I described the ambush in the wizard's outer chamber, but her own styles of combat are all centered in stealth and surprise. She is a Khajiit, and a talented thief.

We had Mebestian Ence in for lunch. He is the local trader and my connection to the unseemly world of the smugglers of Dwemer artifacts. He gave me a suggestion about who I could talk to regarding indexes for the powerful propylons of the ancient Dunmer fortresses. They are rare. I left Pelagiad with a cryptic note from Mebestian to a pawnbroker in Caldera. The note was meaninglessly innocuous to the casual eye, but would introduce me to Irgola as a trustworthy friend. Ahnassi clapped her hands and purred at the thought of seeing such a unique item.

I teleported myself to Balmora and walked proudly down the thoroughfare, the great ebon staff of a wizard thumping against the cobbles with each stride. Edwinna has made at least one trip to Tel Fyr. The survival of a Dwemer has been reported to the headquarters of the guild in the distant Imperial capital. Messages from Trebonius have been received; messages demanding my whereabouts. Ranis reported that I was headed to Sheogorad on a quest for a staff; the truth, nothing more, nothing less. Edwinna has reported that I am waiting for some mysterious translation project to be completed, but she does not know where I am. Skink has reported that I am on a mission for him; to slay a necromancer. After I left Ranis sent word to Trebonius that I would be answering his summons as soon as I picked up some translations. Again the truth, though now I do not know when I will be traveling to Gnissis.

I used the guild teleporting system to travel to Caldera. Irgola was very helpful once he had read the note from Mebestian. He actually had an index in his possession. For a large number of septims he became even more helpful and sold it to me. I turned the metal object over in my hands. It is familiar. I have seen similar objects before, most recently in Tel Fyr. I do not know the symbols, but nowhere on this index are there the symbols I associate with Falasmaryon or Valenvaryon. Neither of the fortresses I am familiar with appears to be the target for whatever propylon this index activates.

I cast my recall spell again in the late afternoon, planning to take Ahnassi to the Halfway Tavern for a celebratory evening of dinner and dance. I appeared in the hallway with the index in my hand, ready to show her. She was not downstairs. I charged up the steps calling joyfully "Look kitten! Look what I got!" She was not upstairs either. There was a note on the table, much to my surprise. Although I have seen her manipulate a lock pick with a delicacy that defies all logic, she claims that 'Khajiiti hands are not made for holding pens'. I picked up the paper. It containes two lines of neat text.

"We have the girl. She will not like Mournhold."

10 Comments:

Anonymous Rex Little said...

A most unexpected twist, indeed! Is this something that actually happens in the game? In one of the expansions? In a mod?

3:44 PM  
Anonymous talkkno said...

wow.... most unexpected indeed. Cougraltions.... i guess. best one so far.

3:51 PM  
Blogger frootat31 said...

wow- that last part threw me for a loop! Kudos on originality!

4:13 PM  
Blogger Qwikblade said...

Ok, you got me...

This wasn't where I expected the story to go. I supected Arvil was going to turn into a vampire after his recent battle with them.

Have fun in Mournhold. :)

4:22 PM  
Anonymous bravo 1 said...

Hmm...I must say this is an unexpected twist. I suppose eventually you'd have to find an excuse to get him in Mournhold (Tribunal expansion, for those who've only played vanilla MW). I rather like the artistic license; very nice work....as usual ;)

-Bravo

4:33 PM  
Anonymous mikekearn said...

Man, you weren't kidding when you said "unexpected" were you? My heart almost stopped at the last line, a very great suspense writing. Good job!

5:26 PM  
Anonymous Zelda_Zealot said...

Nice twist. I was expecting something else. Its good to know that you will have Arvil go to Mournhold, I was wondering when that would happen.

7:15 PM  
Anonymous Arthmodeus said...

Ohhhhhhhh, boy! Arvil is gonna pwn those brotherhood n00bs!!!


-Arthmodeus

7:26 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

WOW ! ! That was a complete surprise! I've never been to Mournhold, but I've heard it can be pretty nasty there! Congratulations on acquiring the wizard's staff! Should come in handy, where you're going !

- Angela

2:24 PM  
Blogger Mikhail the Shmikhail said...

I just read through the last 40 or so, I fell behind. Really great stuff.

-Blackadder

2:07 AM  

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