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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, March 24, 2006

32: Hostile territory

It started early this morning, on the docks of Sadrith Mora. A fine sturdy craft rode high in the water, her master lounging against the mast. Before I could speak she started quoting prices for distant destinations.

"I'm just going to Tel Aruhn today," I said.

"Not worth my time," said the captain. I didn't know what to say. Tel Aruhn is very close to Sadrith Mora, true enough, but almost all travel in the rugged Azura's Coast region is by water. She could easily drop me off on her way to any other port, or have been back in a few hours to get her next charter.

"Look outlander, I don't care how you get to Tel Aruhn. Fly. Swim. Water walk. For that matter I don't even care if you get to Tel Aruhn, but you aren't getting there by standing around on my boat, so get off." I realized that the reason I didn't know what to say was that there just wasn't anything to be said, so I left.

I water walked across the narrow channels and clambered up the rocky shores of the islands through the crashing surf. Kagouti among the towering spires, flights of cliff racers; delays came from all sides. What could have been a quick voyage wasted half the day, but eventually the great tower of Archmagister Gothren came into view.

The Telvanni wizard lords don't build their towers, they grow them. The giant mushrooms of Morrowind, like their smaller brethren, are focal points for magicka, and the Telvanni use their craft to shape the magicka, along with the material. Four huge mushroom caps loomed overhead, supported by their stems that entwined into a single central stalk. Undoubtedly that stalk would be hollow, providing a vertical shaft giving access to the chambers inside the caps above. At the feet of this awesome structure smaller 'buildings' huddled. The lesser mushrooms also offered hollow chambers in their caps, with twisted ladders grown from trama vine providing access for those unable or unwilling to fly. I walked past the long flat tendrils that are trained along the surface of the water to serve the Telvanni as docks, and their towers as roots.

With more than half the day gone I reconsidered my direct approach to the Archmagister. The Pot and Plaster was familiar, and I determined to refresh myself with their hospitality and present myself in the morning. Another miscalculation.

The proprietor of the Pot and Plaster did not remember my previous visit, but recognized me immediately from my current notoriety. "We have no rooms, outlander," he said as I walked through the door. Again my plans changed.

"I won't be staying then. I'll just quickly refresh myself from my travels and be on my way." I reached for my money pouch.

"You've not traveled far enough, outlander. Refresh yourself elsewhere, perhaps on your own shores. Lord Dagoth rises. Sleepers awake. Your time here is through." The red eyes blazed. In Telvanni territory I could count on short shrift from the authorities, which evidently emboldens the sleepers. I left quickly to avoid a fight that would cost me as much to win as lose.

Back on the ground I considered my options. With my temper already flaring I had no desire to face Gothren. I could have teleported back to Sadrith Mora and repeated the trek tomorrow, without the aggravation of having transportation and hospitality surprisingly denied me since I now know there will be none. There was another option that merited at least some investigation in the remaining daylight though.

So here I am, writing my journal by the magical light of a spell, in the cabin of an unknown vessel lodged on the rocky outcrops of an island near to Tel Aruhn. While lacking in many comforts, it offers shelter from the weather, and with a locking spell on the cabin door some measure of security from predators. I shall sleep well, if lightly, to recover my strength of body and mind, and face Gothren tomorrow.

10 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

It's prounounced 'magicka'.

1:39 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

It's spelled "magicka." I don't see your point.

8:48 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

And another good chapter. While I prefered the last, it is only because the last had more action. I liked the description of the trek there, and especially enjoyed reading about the ship captain denying service to Avril.

Over all another solid chapter.

-Nivekcloud

12:33 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I like it that Avil Bren also has days of frustration- even as an Archmage! But- the plot thickens! And we're all being kept nicely in suspence. i like that as well!

- Angela

2:50 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Do I sense a small chapter setting up a significant one?

-Noozooroo

8:13 PM  
Anonymous mikekearn said...

I think Noozooroo may have the gist of it here. This seemingly inocuous chapter may very well be foreshadowing a very big upcoming event.

In any case, I can't wait to see what happens.

1:44 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

*uppercuts making a funny woodpecker sound* now i have your attention... would it be a bit too hopeful of me to be expecting an oblivion journal anytime soon? or will it wait until arvil is DEAD AND BURIED!!! ... or has had all his enemies killed... or should i shut up?

3:02 AM  
Blogger Xikorolkel said...

I fully expect someone to start an Oblivion journal, and I keep expecting to see a comment saying "look at what I'm doing!" I'd start one myself except I have neither an Oblivion-level computer or the game itself, so I guess I'll just keep checking.

I definitely want Tim to finish this off right before he even begins to think about doing another one!

9:31 AM  
Blogger Tim said...

I saw Oblivion run for the first time this weekend on a machine I built for my son specifically for it...awesome.

And I got an e-mail from someone who is writing an Oblivion Journal...once I've read a bit of it I'll probably post the link somewhere.

And I won't be writing one, at least until Arvil has reached his final fate.

11:40 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Strange... Aren't Sleepers supposed to 'wake up', when the PC has passed the 3rd test and talks to them? Then again, Arvil will be Arvil. Very Good overall! I like your story.

-jgpz

6:04 PM  

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