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, September 16, 2005

45: Missed by miles

Extensively drawing on the forces of magica leaves a swirling residue of power. This is the foundation of the guild guides teleportation system. The activities of a guild hall create a focal point that the guides can target. Temples and shrines have a comparable effect, though the residuals could be described as having a different 'flavor'.

That difference is the key to intervention spells. Almsivi intervention targets the residual signature of a Tribunal temple. Divine intervention targets the residual of an Imperial Cult shrine. Without the focusing of a guild guide it isn't safe teleporting blindly into a building, but an intervention spell is a great way to travel, depositing the caster in the courtyard of the nearest target.

Yesterday I said I was not anxious to get on with the next trial. Today my error proved it.

I had breakfast with the Urshilaku hunters, and watched restlessly as they slipped off into the wastes. In the absence of Dagoth Ur and the evils he has released upon the land they would be leading a simple life; a life I think I would gladly join them in. Of course in the absence of Dagoth Ur there would be no Nerevarine, and I would likely never have been welcomed among them.

Once they were gone I considered my options. The nearest temple would be Mar Gaan, about halfway to Ald-ruhn. Just south of Ald-ruhn stands Buckmoth Fortress, the Imperial legion's headquarters in Redoran territory. That seemed the better choice. I cast my divine intervention spell.

I appeared outside of Fort Darius in Gnissis. Gnissis, on the far west coast, is a long way from anywhere, but apparently it is closer to the Urshilaku camp than Ald-ruhn is. Since it has a temple in addition to the fort there was no way to teleport away other than using my recall spell to come home to Pelagiad. Once here it was impossible to motivate myself to leave.

I had lunch with Mebestian Ence after selling off another load of Dwemer artifacts that had accumulated in my pack. Mebestian has become a good friend as well as a business partner. I felt safe talking to him about the coming trials. Being who he is he had a different view. "You should approach the Hlaalu first," he said with simple conviction.


"Arvil, you are one of the richest men in Vvardenfell. The Hlaalu can be bought. They have a Cyrodiil on their clan council. How do you think he got there?"

He has a point.

It occurs to me that for the first time there is actually a choice in the path of the Nerevarine. I hope I choose wisely.


Anonymous mikekearn said...

That is something I always liked. If you were strong enough to survive all of what Morrowind could throw at you, you ended up walking away loaded with more gold than any person should physically be able to carry. (thank God the game doesn't work that way -- I'd have to walk around throwing gold away!) Buying his way in is something I should have thought about doing in my all makes sense now.

3:41 PM  

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