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.

Monday, August 08, 2005

21: Surprise, I'm just passing through

The guild guides provide transport from one guild hall to another. This service is available to guild members at a very inexpensive price, and the public at a fair price as well. Transportation is via teleportation spells and is instantaneous. Gossip, of course, travels even faster.

I appeared on the guide platform in Ald-ruhn right after breakfast. Erranil, the mage who operates the system nodded gravely. "Good morning Archmage. We were not expecting you so early, but Edwinna is in her office. I'm sure she will be pleased to see you." I suppose having appeared at two halls in the last two days I would be expected in Ald-ruhn next.

Erranil reached into a drawer and drew out a pack of small parchments. "These are to notify the other halls of your arrival. Do you know how long you will be staying?"

I laughed. There would not likely be much for me to do. "Not long Erranil. I have business in the north. This is your idea?" I took one of the notices and looked it over.

"Yes, Archmage. Edwinna wanted a system for keeping track of your location."

"Excellent." I handed it back. "Note that I will be in the northern Ashlands for three to five days and send them along."

As expected there was little to say to Edwinna. In her low key way she had her hall completely prepared to serve as my headquarters should I require it. I left after a brief visit, jogging northward at a strong pace that I maintained with my flask of restorative potion.

I had planned to eat lunch in Mar Gaan, but the early start made me think I would be well past that Redoran outpost. I was not. The rugged flank of Red Mountain did not slow me greatly, but the swarming blighted monsters did. There were many that I could easily have run past, as they were swollen into bloated masses of muscle that could barely move. I can't say that I gathered much information from the charred corpses my fireballs left behind, but it was a kindness to free these creatures from their horrific existence. Unable to hunt, they are reduced to gnawing on their own useless extremities. For every one that could not move though, there was another that could. Hugely overgrown muscles, blind unthinking fury; the blight monsters ravage the land. I noted the scars on the walls of Mar Gaan as I ran through the gates.

I had lunch at Aldur's Tradehouse. I considered making an inconspicuous entrance and moving on quickly, but opted instead to test my rank and privilege. It was not really out of line, as the Archmage of Vvardenfell, to command the main table in the dining hall, and send for the great warrior Miles Gloriosus to join me. The Cyrodiil has battled in every corner of the Empire, and he is the central pin in the defense of Mar Gaan; a defense that he tells me is failing. While the heroes and mercenaries have rallied to the cause from near and far the tide from Red Mountain batters inexorably against them.

I could not offer any long term hope without bringing up the Nerevarine prophecy, but I did the only thing I could to support the resistance. Mages and healers from all the halls will rotate through Mar Gaan, and they will bring scrolls and potions from the enchanters and alchemists, a tenth of their production. Gloriosus was exuberant in his gratitude, but concerned at the cost. I told him to be sure that all those who came to the outpost knew that the Mage's Guild is a part of Vvardenfell, and we will defend it. In the long run we will make back our costs.

Lunch was longer than anticipated and I had to draft a message to be delivered to Ald-ruhn. I opted to stay in Mar Gaan for the night. The harsh conditions of the Ashlands and the heavy flow of monsters from Red Mountain make it rash to risk being caught out at sunset.


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