The Journal of Ian, Redguard Adventurer

[Gyrfalcon]

OOC: Patrick's journal gave me the idea for my own, so now there'll be two of these things. *laughs and grins* Anyway, as with Patricks, massive spoilers for the game Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion are ahead, so you have been warned!

 

28 Last Seed, 3E433

 

Part 1 of 2

Ah... good to have some place to write my thoughts again. I wonder what happened with my last journal? Probably thrown into the sewer (not a section I tromped through), or burned. Too bad, but I'm glad I didn't have too much that was personal in there.

 

Ah yes, where are my manners? If you're reading this, I either handed it to you, you pulled it off a shelf in a library somewhere, or you found it among my rotting bones. Either way, try to take good care of it, will you? First thing's first, if you aren't reading this for the first reason. My name is Ian, and I am - or was - a Redguard, born in the month of Rain's Hand in the year 3E413, under the Sign of the Mage. An odd sign for a member of one of the most well-known warrior races, but we all have to be born sometime.

 

My childhood was much the same as any other Redguard lad's, my parents members of the Forbearers, the descendents of the wave of warriors who took Hammerfell for the Yokudan, my people. My parents are both alive and well, my father a somewhat renowned alchemist, my mother a member of the city guard of Sentinel. I understand my younger sisters and brother are doing well, at least as of the time of this writing.

 

Now, why are you finding this book (presumably) so far away from Hammerfell? Well, my family is a bit more Forbearer then most - a large number of our ancestors are Redguard only by marriage into the family. Where many Redguards are dusky, black haired and dark eyed, I'm fairly pale, exacerbated by my recent stay in the Imperial Prison, green eyed, and with dark brown hair. This didn't make my childhood any easier, since I was physically quite different.

 

When I was sixteen, I decided it was time for a change in scenery, and I enlisted in the Imperial Army, with the aid of my mother and the tacit approval of my father. They, at least, were glad to have me, for whatever my coloring, I was a Redguard and did quite well in the initial training. I was given the standard training for the Imperial Army, given my equipment, and posted on the border between Valenwood and Eleswyr, where the occasional skirmish with deserters from units on either side who thought they could sneak up on our garrison unopposed kept our skills sharp and our nerves slightly frayed. Those Khajiit like attacking at night, where their night vision gives them an edge over our mostly human troops.

 

But that was a while back. Roughly three months ago, my unit was rotated to the Imperial City garrison for rest and refit. It was there a letter caught up with me, informing me that a distant uncle had died, and had designated me as his heir. It was a tower up in the mountains called Frostcrag Spire. It didn't sound like it'd ennoble me or anything, but property means that you can potentially join the officer core, and officers do a lot less fighting then the enlisted men do.

 

Anyway, I went out to celebrate my new fortune with some barrack buddies of mine... former barrack buddies. We ended up drinking too much in a low bar in the waterfront district, and one thing lead to another, and we ended up in a brawl. I was having a good time, even if my opponent wasn't, when I heard a scream behind me. I turned around and one of my mates shoved a bloody dagger into my hand before pushing past me. On the floor was one of the patrons, a rather nasty gash across his throat. Before I could even drop the dagger, the guard came through the door and beat nine kinds of Oblivion out of me.

 

When I came to, I was in the Imperial Prison, and the guard told me that the only way I'd avoid jail time would be paying a 'fine' of over a thousand Septims! I didn't have that kind of money on me and said so.

 

That was three months ago, and I've been in a damp cell deep in the prison for all that time. Today... well, yesterday since it's after midnight, I was moved from my normal cell to an empty one near the stairs down, something about my cell being needed for something else. Honestly, after about five minutes I was hoping they'd move me back soon, across from me some sarcastic bastard of a Dunmer kept making snide remarks, telling me that I'd rot forever in this prison... well yah, as if I hadn't guessed?

 

Guess fate had other things in store with me. I couldn't believe my eyes when three soldiers in ornate armor escorted a richly robed figure down the stairs. They looked tense, and nervous, and were annoyed when they stopped in front of my cell and saw me standing there. I guess the watch had mixed up which cell they needed to clear out. I was ordered to stand near the window or be killed, so I wisely followed orders. They opened the door and trooped into my cell, one of them watching me with dark, angry eyes, while the Captain went and started fiddling with the wall near the pallet. The robed man ignored me but for a casual glance... then started and looked at me more closely. I was looking back before dropping my eyes respectfully... and seeing the amulet on his chest. At that point, I almost went to my knees, but for fear that the Blade watching me would attack if I made any move.

 

The Emperor stated that he had seen me in his dreams, and dismissed the reasons I had been placed in jail as an act of fate, that would bring us together. The conversation was cut short as the Captain told him that they needed to get moving, and pressed a series of rocks in a precise pattern. The pallet lowered itself into the ground, and the wall behind it swung back to reveal stairs leading down!

 

I was allowed to follow behind the group, though both of the male Blades told me that this was none of my concern and to stay out of their way.

 

Before we had made it more then fifty feet, dark-armored figures swarmed out of the shadows ahead. I cast a simple spell that hurled a ball of fire ahead, but it flashed over the head of one of the attacks. In the confusion, Captain Renault went down at my feet, and her katana spilled from her fingers. I swept it up and stepped up behind one of the armored figures, slashing him hard and allowing the Blade he was fighting to finish him off, though he growled at me to watch where I swung the sword - guess I was a little rusty. I went back and slipped Captain Renault's steel short sword from her belt - she wouldn't need it anymore.

 

In death, the armored figures became robed men, cultists of some form, all wearing the same robes and hoods, though a few had potions on them that I collected. The remaining Blade's led the emperor through the next door, but one of them drew his sword and told me to stay behind before closing and sealing the door behind him. Obviously my continued fate was now in my own hands.

 

Before I could contemplate what I could do, rocks tumbled from the wall in front me, and a pair of giant, starving rats chittered before lunging at me. I caught the first one with a fireball, but the second leapt. I deflected it with my sword and slashed its throat with Renault's katana.

 

I started past the rats, but then remembered my father's words, that the meat of rats had some alchemical properties to it. I cut a strip from each of the rats before stepping over the rubble, into what looked to be a minimally worked cave. In the distance a rat was shuffling, but a fireball flung in it's direction (with a whisper of thanks to the Altmer wizard who taught me this basic spell) took care of it. I searched the area and found a luckless thief who had tumbled down from above. I could see light above his body, but no way to climb the small chasm that leads down here. I grimaced and looted his age-old body, surprisingly his boots and tunic were still serviceable, as well as a leather shield, iron-core bow, and his arrows. the chest next to him and another one in the area yielded a few golds, an inferior sapphire, and a number of lockpicks and iron arrows.

 

After cutting a strip of meat from the rat I had toasted, I came across a startling discovery - a dead goblin. This could prove a bit more troublesome then I thought. Rats are easy to deal with, but goblins are nasty and cunning trap makers. I looted its body, only a few days old, and came up with a pair of scrolls as well as a key to the door right beside it.

 

The next caves were interesting. In one chest, I found some rusted iron armor, which I gratefully put on. Leather is fine, but a bit of iron between you and someone or something intent on your death is better. I dealt with a few more rats and even some corpse that had decided to drag itself out of its grave before I came back into the worked stone and found the emperor and his bodyguards fighting off another attack by the strange robed men. I announced my presence into the battle with a few fireballs from my perch before dropping down to help them, but they were done with the last cultists. One of the Blades immediately started for me, but the Emperor thankfully told him to leave me alone.

 

The Emperor asked me an odd question, wondering what Sign I had been born under before inviting me to join them in their travels through the rest of these ancient ruins. We fought off several attacks by cultists before reaching a dead end. The two Blades rushed back to defend the passageway by another assault, leaving the Emperor in my care. I failed.

 

The Emperor took off his Amulet of Kings and gave it to me, warning me cryptically that the Gates of Oblivion must be closed, and that I must take the Amulet of Kings to Jauffre at Waynon Priory, near the city of Chorrol. Before I could ask more, a secret passage opened behind him, and an assassin sank his blade into the Emperor's back. A strange expression of peace crossed his face, and then he sank to the floor.

 

The next minute was a haze of red, but when I came out of it, the assassin was pinned to the wall by my blade and that of the Blade, Baurus. He was skeptical as to my explanation, but accepted that I would take the Amulet to Jauffre, his Guildmaster and the head of the Blades.

 

Baurus explained the minimal dangers ahead, and glanced me over, guessing that I was Bard, though his glance at my sword-callused hands and the way I handled the Akaviri blade makes me suspect that he suspected that I had a certain amount of Imperial training. Either way, I told him I was a simple Adventurer, which he accepted reluctantly.

 

I escaped through the sewers beyond, slaying a few more rats and a pair of goblins and then I reached blessed light, fresh air, and the smells of autumn.

 

I confess I broke down and wept with joy at that point, though anywhere other then here I will claim that the light merely stung my eyes.

 

Excuse me for a moment, I got some dust in my eyes.