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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.

Thursday, June 30, 2005

Day 149: Home with my lady

I am home. Wealthy beyond imagining, but that makes no difference. What matters is that I am back with my Ahnassi. We have not returned to our own small house, but we are together. Hidden by the combined skills of the mage's guild and the thieve's guild, and with the Dark Brotherhood shattered, I feel safe.

This morning, as promised, I appeared on the steps of the Mournhold temple surrounded by stacks of finely crafted Dark Brotherhood armors and extraordinary weapons. For their part, many smiths and merchants were waiting. The sale went quickly, as I was more concerned with time than money. In fairly short order I had reduced the load to a manageable burden. I took payment in gold, as well as darts and throwing stars of silver, ebony, and adamantium. Some enchanters thinking of enhancements their magica could induce in the armor paid in scrolls that replenished my stocks.

I took transport from Effe-tei and appeared once again in Ebonheart. From there a brief hike took me to Vivec City, where I expected to use the guild guide's services to reach Balmora. I did get transport, and I brooked no delay, but nearly at cost of my plans. Trebonius obstructed my progress, but only briefly.

"Bren!" he roared as I sped through the common chamber. "You! Where are the translations? The great Archmages of the guild have heard that the mystery of the Dwemer is solved. They want answers and they want them from me. So I need them from you, and you disappear! They hear from all quarters that there is a Dwemer alive and I know nothing about it. A Dwemer here in Vvardenfell and the Archmage of Vvardenfell knows nothing about it. You've made me look the fool!"

I nearly told him he was a fool when I met him, but bit my tongue. "I will be picking up the translations soon, if they are ready. Or I could bring you the books which hold the answers immediately, as the Archmage wills." The spells of the school of destruction would be no help to him in solving the riddle for himself, and he knew it. He could not confront me directly, since only I knew where the translations were. He was angry, but he stood aside.

When I arrived in Balmora I found that my sweet Ahnassi had been hidden away by Khajiiti women who at one time had apparently considered me for their own. Ajira and Habasi were not pleased that I had been taken to mate by another Khajiit without informing them, but they had united with their sister in our time of need. I found her here, in the Southwall Cornerclub.

Translations, the Archmage, the Sixth House, Blades, Nerevarine...tonight they all wait.

5 Comments:

Blogger frootat31 said...

About time he gets a break! I'd say this is a happy ending...but its not the ending at all. More to come...more to wait...and as always, this story is WONDERFUL

10:53 AM  
Anonymous Arthmodeus said...

I'm just glad he didn't continue the Tribunal MQ linearly. I assume he didnt discover the writ on the leader's corpse?

2:30 PM  
Anonymous mikekearn said...

No matter what happens, I will fondly remember him showing Trebonius for the fool he is once more. I can't wait until he knocks the old idiots head off.

3:13 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Arthomodeus, he said he "found the contract and pocketed it, but any further investigation had to be deferred due to an incessant pounding at the outer door." I think he has forgotten about it for the moment.

12:42 PM  
Anonymous Arthmodeus said...

Ahh, forgive me. I must have missed that part.

10:40 AM  

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