Change in Posting Fanfic

I have given some thought to my future fanfiction.  There are many characters I have planned for my various Skyrim playthroughs, interesting stories that would make great fanfiction. 

So, I have decided to move all my fanfiction to a fanfiction writing site called fanfiction.net.  I have decided to do this because this particular site would make it easier to manage the many various characters I may play on Skyrim, the many various stories I can RP in my Skyrim plays.

However, I will not totally discontinue this blog, but will continue using this blog to advertise my work and provide links to my fanfiction.

Log of Larrius Varro, an Imperial Soldier: Part III

Rated M for Violence, Language, and Sexuality
Make sure and read parts 1 & 2
      - Part I: Sept. 5
      - Part II: Sept. 12

Rain’s Hand 23

            The journey has been a long and taxing one.  We crossed through Pale Pass, through the Jerall Mountains.  We did not stop in Bruma, but continued on.  Later we came into the Colovian Highlands, continuing our march south. 

            We arrived in the Imperial City late this evening.  We marched over 12 hours today, for the Captain wanted to reach the Imperial City by nightfall.

            We stayed in the Legion barracks in the Waterfront District.  We were informed that tomorrow, we shall be able to survey the damage, and will be informed of the casualties.  I shall be sure to inquire about Rielle’s brother, if I can, and hopefully speak with him.  Tomorrow night, I shall write her, to tell her I am safe and the news of her brother.  I hope he is alright.  I don’t know what I should say if he was among the casualties.

Rain’s Hand 24

            I am shocked tonight as I write this, as I received very ill news. 

            Today, we awoke, ate breakfast, and were ordered to march to the Arboretum.  Many of the statues here were destroyed, statues that had stood here for centuries.  The statue of Tiber Septim received some minor damage.  But, as we observed later, a lot of the destruction occurred in the Talos Plaza District and the Temple District.  The number of citizens slain were in the hundreds.  Fifty-two legion soldiers died in the attack, a third being guards.  When I inquired about Rielle’s brother, Gerich, I was informed that he was among the casualities, one of the very first soldiers who responded to the attack.

            I’m not sure how to tell Rielle this news.  Perhaps I should not say anything, and wait until I am with her.  Though I am sure her uncle would be able to calm her.  Also, the Captain informed us today we would be leaving tomorrow for the Dragontail Mountains. 

Around the necks of the orcs slain in the defense, was a necklace from which hung sabertooth tiger teeth.  It is believed to be symbolic of their tribe.  We will travel to Orsinium, where we will attempt to learn more about this tribe, especially where they live.

Our mission is to punish the tribe, to capture their chief if possible and return him to the Imperial City for execution.  Our units joined 2 other units from Hammerfell and High Rock, along with the entire 7^th Battalion.  We leave tomorrow.

Second Seed 19

We left the Imperial City that morning on the 25^th of Rain’s Hand.  Several days later, we crossed the border into Hammerfell.  From there we encountered the brutality of the Alik’r Desert, and slept at whatever town we came to along the way.  When we came to a town, we refilled our water supplies.

Now, we have come at last to the last breadth of civilization before we come to the craggy paths of the Dragontail Mountains.

I shall be glad when this journey is concluded, as the Captain informed us that after this mission, we can return home to see our families.  I will make sure I stop in Cyrodiil to see my family, but also to stop in Hofgard to see Rielle.  I miss her terribly and long for the time when I can gaze upon her face again.

Second Seed 25

I write this, as I am hiding in a small mountain crevice with my unit, at least what is left of it.  Yesterday afternoon, we were ambushed in a large ruined fortress that we attempted to camp in.  Arrows and balls of flame shot at us from above.  Men all around began falling.  The source of the attack was unknown.  Our units separated, and dispersed from the fortress.

My unit gained higher ground as quickly as it could.  Finally spotting our attackers, our archers fired back.  Archers from my unit killed 10 or 12 of them.  Six men from my unit fell.  Chaos ensued.  Soon, we were down to four men.  My unit commander ordered us to retreat. 

As he turned around after us, an arrow twitched into his neck.  Blood sputtered from his throat, and he fell to the ground.  There was nothing we could do for him.  The two remaining other troops and myself retreated.

We found a small cave where we hid.  All afternoon we waited, listening for any other troops that might pass, or perhaps a couple of orc hunting parties.  We remained there till nightfall.  

Once darkness overcame the land, we crept out of our cave, and snuck back in the direction of the massacre.  We came to the old fort and spotted a large party of orcs just within the gateway, some wielding torches, and several men kneeling and hands bound.  Some orcs were armed with axes.  Others with bows.  And there were a few orcs with staffs, who I assumed to be orc shamans. 

After several moments passed, the orcs shoved the men to their feet, and they started to walk.  We retreated several yards away and got down behind some rocks, so they would not spot us as they exited the fort. 

As the orcs left the fort and turned north, I motioned to my comrades to follow me.  I knew not what madness took me, but thus it did, and we followed them.  We walked all night, careful to remain where the orc party could not see us.  We moved in the dark, well out of their torchlight.

Before the sun rose, we spotted a large camp.  The orc party entered the camp with their prisoners, but we dared not follow them. 

There were 10 Legion prisoners, of which they tied each one to a pole.  By now, daylight was fast approaching.  The two soldiers, named Luther and Helvo, and I went back a ways, and hid in a small crevice.  It wasn’t a cave by any means, but provided a small space by which we could keep ourselves hidden till nightfall. 

After we caught our breaths, and got over some of the shock, we spoke, in lowered voices.  It was Helvo who opened the conversation.  “Where’s the 7^th Battalion?  Where’s the units from Hammerfell and High Rock?”

Luther said, “Dead most likely.  Vile orc bastards!  Could you see any faces, Larrius?  What units were those prisoners from?”

I replied, “I couldn’t tell.  It was just too dark, and the men’s faces were turned away from me.”

Luther said, “Well, what do we do now?”

Helvo said, “I say we return to the Imperial City.”

I then told them I was going to try and rescue the men.  Helvo thought I was absolutely crazy. 

I told them I was trained in the arts of stealth, along with my combat training, that I would go and rescue them, and for them to remain here.

Luther told me that he would join me.  Helvo reluctantly agreed it was the right thing to do.

I knew it was a desperate, dangerous move, and I told them so.  I strongly desire to see Rielle again, but I also know that I cannot, in good conscience, leave those soldiers behind.

And so, now we wait here, for the darkness of night, and wait for the eternally long hours of silent daylight to end.  I shall write Rielle, and give the letter to Helvo.  In fact, I may order Helvo to remain behind and deliver the letter if anything should happen to me.

Log of Larrius Varro, an Imperial Soldier: Part II

Rated M for Violence, Language, and Sexuality

Make sure and read Part I.


Rain’s Hand 8

            I rose early in the morning.  Walking downstairs, I smelled the aroma of bread and sweetness.  When I came into the kitchen, I was greeted by Rielle.  Very shyly, she asked if I would like some sweetcake.  Serving up a nice portion of the cake and placing it before me, she apologized that she wasn’t able to eat with me, that she had taken her breakfast already, and that she had housework that needed tending.  Needless to say, the sweetcake was amazing.

            After I ate, I went into the den and pulled a book from Langley’s bookshelf and read while the woman continued her work.  She was currently dusting the mantelpiece above the fireplace.  Once while I was reading, I caught her watching me from the corner of her eye.  When I looked up, she returned her gaze to the mantelpiece, and continued dusting.

            Later that morning, I told Rielle I was going to check in at the Legion camp, and left the house.  The truth is, I had received no such instruction, but it was clear the girl was uncomfortable in my presence, so I decided to go out. 

I came back to the camp, where my unit’s Commander informed me that no message had yet come from the Imperial City.  I ate lunch in the camp, and afterwards made my way back into the village.

I entered the Red Dragon tavern, and ordered a pint of ale.  In the tavern were two other Imperials, not soldiers but Hofgard’s residents.  There were also three Nords here, all sitting at a table together.  One of them was a large, burly man, with a rough beard, and kept giving me threatening looks.

I gulped my ale, and left the tavern, not wanting to get into a fight.  Many of the people in the village, mostly Nord, watched me with disdain.  I soon decided I would return to Langley’s house, and perhaps take a nap. 

On the way up to Langley’s house, was a large cliff, which was empty, except for a very large pile of wood.  I was curious about this wood pile, as it looked like a pile meant for a bonfire, and I would ask Langley or his niece about it later. 

There was a population of around a hundred people living in the village.  Unlike the rest of the Empire, Hofgard consisted of only Imperials and Nords.  There was not one Khajiit, Argonian, High Elf, or any other race.  There were not even any Bretons or Redguards.  As I stated earlier, most of the homes were built on mountain cliffs, with stairway paths that connected them.

When I returned to the house, Rielle was sitting down on the couch, reading.  She asked me if I had lunch, and I replied that I had.  I told her I was going nap, and to knock when dinner was served.  She assured me that she would knock.

She seemed a bit more comfortable this time, as her voice was a bit louder than normal, and she looked straight at me, chin up while speaking to me.  I figured Langley must have been by for lunch and probably figured I left because she looked uncomfortable and probably lectured her on speaking to me.

I slept well that afternoon, probably too well, because I awoke to a knock at the guest room door.  It was Langley, who informed me that dinner was being served.  Dinner that evening was beef, rice, and salad.  We did not speak much at the table.  After dinner though, I joined Langley and his niece in the den with a fire in the hearth.

Langley was sitting in a chair, and Rielle was sitting on the couch.  I sat next to her.  After a few moments of silence, Langley opened up the conversation.  “So, Larrius, I heard you went down to your camp to report in.  Any word from the Imperial City?”

I replied, “No, sir, not as of yet.”

Langley said, “It’s good having you here, boy.  You have become so much like your father.”

I replied, “Thank you, sir,” and we then discussed the news happening around Tamriel.  Another skooma ring had been disrupted down in Bruma.  Also, there was news of Imperial troops arriving in the Imperial City.  One unit was from Hammerfell.  Another unit arrived from High Rock.  Rielle remained silent the whole time. 

Langley said, “Something’s going on.  That’s the second and third unit since yesterday.  The Empire’s getting ready for something.”

I replied, “Either that or they needed extra troops to reinforce their position.”

Langley then yawned.  “I’m goin’ to bed.  Goodnight.”  He then rose from his chair and walked by us and up the stairs, leaving myself and the girl alone.

We listened as he walked up the stairs, footsteps down the hall, and a door shutting behind him.

There were many minutes of silence.  For a long time, none of us spoke or made any sound.  Outside, we could hear the winds howling in from the north.  The only light in the room came from the hearth.  Though, before too long, it was Langley’s niece who reignited the conversation.  “I do remember, you know.”

I looked at her and asked, “Remember what?”

She said, “When you and your father came to Hofgard.”

I told her, “I was 13 at the time.  Still so long ago, and my life in the Legion has taken a toll on my childhood memories.

She said, “I have been living with Uncle Langley since I was 10.  It seems though only a fortnight since my parents died.”

I said, “By the power of the Nine Divines, your brother was in the Legion at the time, and was spared.”

The woman replied, “Yes, I’d be all alone if it wasn’t for my brother.  Do you really think he’s alright?”

I said, “As I said earlier, we’ve received no news of such, but I’m sure he’s okay.  But, why Langley?”

She said, “Well, he is my father’s only brother.  My father’s will stated that if anything should happen to him and my mother, that Uncle Larrius would care for me.  My father was a poor farmer.  He wanted so much for me.  He wanted one day for Uncle Larrius to help me become a merchant anyway, to let me work for him and to teach me mercantilism.”

I asked, “Does he take you to the butcher shop?”

She said, “Usually twice a week he takes me.  The rest of the time, I care for the house, which he pays me nicely.  One day, I plan to take my savings and open up my own shop, perhaps in Solitude or Dawnstar.  Tell me soldier.  Is there…anyone special in your life?”  She had paused while asking this and her voice even toned down a bit after she said the word ‘special’.

I cleared my throat, and replied, “Well, uh, no, not really.  Life in the Legion and all.”

She asked, this time seeming much braver, “Is it more of a time issue, or a hazardous life one?”

I said, “It’s both.  For one, I would not wish pain on the part of the one I love during the time I am away, nor the agony if I should die.”

The woman replied, “It’s sacrifice though.  Agony must be endured, and patience must be required for love to grow.”

We sat in the silence for many minutes.  It was not awkward, but calm, and a bit relaxing.  In a few moments, she opened conversation again.  We discussed more of our lives, our hobbies, our dreams, and our most wild fantasies.  I talked about my travels, discussed more about my time in the Legion, and told her I had not dreamed much, which made her laugh.  My wild fantasy was being the historical Champion of Cyrodiil.

She was very curious, asking many questions.  She wanted to know more about Windhelm, being quite fascinated by Dunmer culture.  She also asked about the Imperial City, and if I had ever been to Morrowind.

Her dream was of course to become a Tamriel-famous merchant.  Her wild fantasy was being the daughter of the Emperor.

Several hours passed us by, and the midnight hour came.  She bid me goodnight, and went upstairs.  By now the fire had went down, so in a few moments, I too went upstairs to bed.

Rain’s Hand 9

            This morning, I awoke to Rielle’s voice calling me down to breakfast.  As we ate, Langley told her to take the day off, and for the both of us to go out.  The woman immediately had an idea.  “You know, Uncle, Larrius told me he enjoys fishing.  Perhaps we could go fishing.  How does that sound, Larrius?”

            I said, “That sounds like fun.  We should even roast them on the bank and eat.”  By now, we had finished breakfast.    

            She said, “Well, then.  Allow me to dress more appropriately for a day outside the village, and then we’ll leave.”

            As soon as she went upstairs, Langley left for his day at his butcher shop.  Before long, the girl came down the stairs, dressed in a rough white dress.  We left the house then, and proceeded down into the village, and out across the bridge.  We turned, and followed the small mountain river to the northeast.

            Now, we were deep within the mountain forest.  We had stopped, and Rielle sat on the bank.  I removed my tunic, tossed it aside, and waded into the river.  I bent over, and put my hands into the water, preparing to catch the first fish that crossed my path.

            The first one swam by in a couple of minutes.  I made a grab for it, but too soon, for as soon as my hands struck the water, it changed course and quickened its pace.  The second one came by a bit later, and this time, I caught it.  Holding it tight with both hands, I carried it to the banks and tossed it in the basket.

            “Can I try,” she asked.

            I said, “Come on.”  She gave me her hand and I helped her up.  I lead her into the river.  She released my hand to hold her dress above the water.

            I told her, “Don’t worry about it.  You won’t catch anything like that.”  She released her dress, which fell into the water. 

            The water was only up to her thigh.  She asked, “Well, what do I do first?”

            I stood behind her, and said, “Well, you have to bend over like this.”  As I stood behind her, I took my hands and held her arms and put them into the water.  I continued, “Well, now we wait.  When a fish swims by, you just reach for it with your hands.”

            I watched from behind.  She stood bent over, for quite a few minutes, before the first one crossed us.  She tried to move too fast, and lost it.  A second and third one came during the first half hour, but she also missed them.

            She said, “I don’t think I’m doing this right.”

            I said, “Then let me help you.”  I then stood close behind her, took her arms, and held her arms beneath the water.  When the first fish came by, we missed it.  The second though, we landed just right.  I moved her arms in its direction, and she clasped her hands over it.  I took her arms out of the water, and we both walked onto the bank together, with her arms still in my hands, and tossed the fish in the basket.

            Now, we decided to get a fire going, and cook our catch.  We ate in silence.  Once we finished eating, she said, “My real name’s not Rielle.”

            I asked, “Really, then what is it?”

            She then told me her real name, and about how her uncle began calling her Rielle after she began living with him.  She told me the name was from the Ayleid language, and that it meant ‘beauty.’

            I said, “I’d say your uncle hit the nail right on the head when he named you Rielle.”  She looked away and blushed.  I then changed the subject. 

            “So, what’s that large pile of logs I saw in the village?”

            Rielle said, “It’s for our bonfire.  Hofgard’s anniversary is tomorrow.  It’s the day Hofgard was founded.  Each year, we have a bonfire.  The entire day, there’s music, and feasting, and dancing.  Then, as the sun sets, we light the logs for a bonfire.  I hope you’ll join us.”

            I said, “Nothing would be more pleasant, unless my company has to depart.”

            Rielle said, “I’ll understand if I have to.  Larrius…?”

            “Yes,” I asked.

            She then asked, “Would you write me as soon as you see my brother?”

            I said, “Of course.”

            We remained out there, the whole day, resting, talking, watching the clouds, and the wildlife around us.  It was late afternoon before we began walking back to the village.  We took our time though, moving as if life itself was an eternity.

Rain’s Hand 11

            By the end of yesterday, I had felt too depressed to write.  The truth was that I was in so much agony that I was finally leaving.  I had come to a realization, too late it seemed, that I loved Rielle, and now I was moving on.

            I was in my tent, during the midnight hour of the 11^th, as we were ordered to do so since we were leaving early the next morning, and we should be ready to march at a moment’s notice.  That day had truly been wonderful.  That day, the festival began at noon.  Rielle wore a lovely blue dress.  There was also something else about her.  She had cut her hair.  Now, instead of running a few lengths past her shoulders down to her lower back, her hair now stopped just right below her shoulders.

            That day, I was introduced to a few woman friends of hers, mostly Imperials, but also one Nordic woman.  Langley introduced me to a few of his pals, all Imperials.  All that day, there was feasting, and music.  Bards and lutes and drums filled our ears.  We heard epic tales from the past, including the story of Hofgard’s founding. 

            According to the story, it was founded by a Nord named Logvaar who was tired of living in a world among elves and beast folk.  So he got permission from the Emperor himself and received the funding and the settlers to settle the northern border of Skyrim.  They endured quite a few attacks from bandits and marauders, but the settlement persisted.  Starting out with 5 families, the village had grown to 17 families.

            Langley told me after the story that he came to the village 30 years after it began, himself tired from living among orcs who he didn’t trust and absolutely believed the orcs living in the Empire would one day turn on the Empire, and that it would be a massacre.

            The food was great.  Rielle had spent the night before the festival, after our day out, at a friend’s house to help prepare part of the village feast. 

            There was much dancing.  I danced with Rielle mostly, but also danced with her friends and some of the elder ladies as a sign of courtesy.  After all, I am a soldier in the Imperial Legion, and it is only courtly for a Legion soldier to do so.

            That night, our garrison captain called us together, telling us to enjoy the rest of the evening, that we were leaving the following morning, and ordered us to return to our tents by midnight.

            When I returned to Rielle, Langley was standing right next to her, and it seemed they were watching our gathering.  I told them that my company was leaving in the morning, and that I no longer required their hospitality.

            Later that night, shortly before midnight, we shared farewell.  Langley grasped my hand, and shook it proudly.  Rielle and I embraced each other.  It was friendly, though a bit lengthy.  I could feel her heart beating against mine.  There were things I wanted to say, but couldn’t.  And now I know there were things on her mind she wanted to share, but couldn’t either.

            I left them after saying a final farewell, walking back to the tent alone.  I knew I should have told her how I felt, and this was the cause of the agony, so I did not write last night.  But, something happened, something I did not expect.

            I was stronger than this.  I was a soldier in the Imperial Legion.  Certainly, love could not keep me awake, but it did.  And so, I was still awake when I heard a familiar voice, “Larrius?”

            It was Rielle, whispering to me with her head near my tent opening.  I immediately got up, put on my red robe, and left my tent.  I asked, “Rielle, what are you doing here?”

            She was dressed in a long white robe, folding her arms.  I said, “Come on, it’s warm in my tent.”

            Rielle said, “No, I need to speak to you, but not here.  Come on.”  Before I could ask where we were going, she took off running.  A moment later, I took off behind her.  She was fast, but I kept pace.  We followed the shallow river we fished from earlier.  We passed the bridge into the village.  We continued through the mountain forest, following the river. 

            Before long, she stopped, and I stopped as well.  We were far from both the camp and the village.  I soon recognized the same place we fished and ate at earlier.  We stood silent for a moment.  I then called her name.  “Rielle.”

            But she didn’t answer.  She walked over to the river bank and stood, looking out into the forest.  There upon the ground was the ruin of the fire we lit yesterday to roast our fish. 

            She left her spot where she was standing and began gathering sticks.  When I saw what she was doing, I helped her, and soon we had another pile of sticks for a small fire.  But, I had nothing to start the fire with. 

            Then, I watched as her lips moved and fire erupted from her hands, and lit the sticks.  “Woah!” I said.  “Where did you learn that?”

            “My uncle,” she replied.

            We both sat near the fire for a minute, warming ourselves.  She then got up and walked over to the river’s edge.  I was quite confused at the moment.  Rielle was acting so strange.  So, I got up and stood ten steps from her.  Her back was to me.

            A few more moments of silence passed, until she said, “I know what’s going on.”  She seemed not to want to look me in the eyes.  “You are going to the Imperial City.  But I know better.  They are not just calling garrisons from around Tamriel just to reinforce the Imperial City.  You’re going to battle, aren’t you?  To make the orcs pay for the blood of citizens.”

            I said, “I do not know as of yet.”

            Rielle said, “I was afraid this evening, when you left my side.  I’m afraid I will never see you again.”  With this last statement, she put her head in her hands, and started weeping.”

            I walked over to her slowly.  By this time, she had stopped and was wiping her tears, as I lightly touched her shoulder and turned her around.

            “Rielle…I…” 

            I never finished the sentence I meant to finish, at least not till our night was done.  But, I immediately took her hands and pulled her to myself and began kissing her.  She then removed her hands from mine and clasped my robe, and removed it from my body.  The only clothes I had on were my trousers, along with of course my loincloth.  I felt the chill of the north wind, but I cared not.  My lips were still sealed on hers. 

            While Rielle put her arms around my neck, I then took off her robe.  She pulled away from my lips, and folded her arms tightly around herself, shivering from the cold.  Beneath the robe, she had worn a long white gown.  Her arms were all naked, and her upper breast skin and chest bare. 

            I lifted her up and carried her over to near the fire and set her down.  I then moved behind her, put my hands on her shoulders, and leaned over and began running my lips along her neck.  While I massaged her neck with my kiss, I grasped her gown straps, and slid them off of her shoulders.  With that, the gown slid off her body.  All that now clad her were two piece undergarments

            Truly a beauty to behold, Reille’s darker skin reflected the power of the moon’s gaze.  Now, running my lips along her left shoulder while still behind her, it wasn’t long before the both of us stood completely unclothed in the night of the forest.

            I turned her to me, and we just stood, looking in each other’s eyes.  I then lifted her and laid her on the ground next to the fire.  I then laid above her, kissing her, and ran my lips along her neck and her chest.  That night, we made love to one another, a night I know I will constantly call upon when despair is nigh.

            We slept in each other’s arms next to the fire, our bodies both naked, beneath her robe for covers to keep out the chill.  It was her who woke me up.  “You need to get back to your camp,” she said.  “And I need to get back home before my uncle wakes up.”

            We got up, and dressed, and ran along the river bank, hand in hand.  We soon found ourselves standing on the bridge to Hofgard.  “Well, this is it,” she said.

            I took her hands, and held them, and caressed her face.  I then pulled her close, and kissed her.  Before I let go, She said, “Come back to me.”

            I said to her, “I promise you.  I will return.”  With that said, and one more kiss, we left each other.  I walked back to my camp, and entered my tent on the edge of the camp before the sun broke the horizon.

            I laid down, and not too much later, horns sounded.

            This day, we marched further into the mountains and crossed the border into Cyrodiil.  We set up camp somewhere in the Jerall Mountains.  My spirits were much stronger now, having been emboldened by her love.

            This may be the last log I write for a while, at least not until we come to civilization.  I will use every memory of ours, every day we’ve been together, to keep my morale from failing me.  May Talos keep me strong!

Release Date and Preview

I will be releasing the 2nd part to "Log of Larrius Varro: An Imperial Soldier" this Monday 9/12/11.  I'm considering releasing a story part once a week to space them out better, as I don't have very many preludes planned before Skyrim releases, and work begins on my major Skyrim fanfic.

So, stay tuned to Part 2 on Monday.  Part 2 concerns Larrius's time in the border village of Hofgard.  Stay tuned to discover what happens when Langley tries to encourage a courting relationship between Larrius and Rielle.  Does Langley succeed?

Update to the Imperial Soldier first part

If you have read "Log of Larrius Varro: Part I," then you have realized that one of my characters did not have a name.  Well, if you go back and read now, you will see I have named her Rielle.  I avoided naming her because I wanted this character to be a reflection of a romantic, marriageable companion in Skyrim and my future fanfiction about Skyrim.  But, I came to think that Larrius would not leave her name out of his personal log, so a solution immediately came to me.
  
The solution: Why couldn't I just have a sort of nickname for her, a name that can be used for the story purposes, but also as a creative solution to the fact that I do not yet know her name.  It is a name her uncle has used since she came to Hofgard to live with him.  'Reille' is an Ayleid word, meaning 'Beauty'.

Log of Larrius Varro, an Imperial Soldier: Part I

Log of Larrius Varro, an Imperial Soldier, is rated M, for violence, language, and sexuality.

First Seed 20

            I was awoken in the early morning hours by Commander Arcadia.  This morning there were reports of a suspicious Argonian along the Morrowind border.  Our unit was to survey the area southeast of Windhelm.

            I soon joined my comrades in the Legion dining area eating a swift breakfast of bread and mutton.  In half an hour, we moved through the fort’s gate, on a course that would take us into the Dunmeth Pass. 

            All throughout the day, we heard and saw nothing.  It is the end of my day.  I shall write again if something is seen.

First Seed 29

            We have now just returned to the fort.  We saw no sign of the Argonian.  As my unit returned during the late afternoon, we were informed of an attack on the Imperial City.  The attack had occurred on the 21^st of First Seed, only 8 days ago, by an orc tribe.  The Captain of the 7^th Battalion of the Imperial City was currently planning a retaliatory attack.  The Captain of our garrison pledged two units for assistance in the retaliation.

            Our orders were to move to Hofgard, a small village on the southern Skyrim border.  We would set up camp there, and await orders from the Imperial City.  From there, we would either receive an order to return to Windhelm, or an order to come at once to the Imperial City.

Rain’s Hand 6

            I am weary this evening, as our company has only just arrived on the outskirts of the small mountain village along the cliffs of the Jerall Mountains, along the southern border of Skyrim.  It’s been 8 days of travel.  We have come, two units from Windhelm, 12 soldiers in the first unit, 13 in the second. 

            I hunker down in my small, white tent, writing this log.  My commander informed us that tomorrow we can go out to the village and relax from our journey, and find a bed to sleep in.  However, he told us to watch our backs, as the locals here were not particularly fond of the Empire, or the Imperial Legion for that matter.

            I think I shall do just this, go to the village, and relax in the tavern with a mug of ale, spend some gold on a book or two, and read.

Rain’s Hand 7

            I would not have written a log this day if not for the events of the day.  This morning, half of the troops set out for the village, called Hofgard Village.  I set out alone late that morning, around noon.  I had slept most of the morning to catch up on the sleep I had lost on our rigorous journey, as we had slept in less than comfortable conditions.

            I crossed a bridge over a small mountain stream, and began moving into the village, along the stairways that allowed one to traverse the steep sides of the mountains.  The buildings were built on mountain alcoves.

            I was hungry, being tired of Legion food, so I set out for the nearest tavern.  I entered a place I thought was a tavern, though when I saw the man with a bloody apron, and raw meat on a table, I knew I must have walked into the wrong place. 

            I apologized, but before I could leave, the man in the bloody apron called my name, but in a questioning tone.  “Larrius?  Larrius Varro?”

            I paused, and turned around, immediately asking who he was.

            The man laughed, and told me his name was Langley, and that him and my father were good friends, and that he had met me many years ago, when I was but 13.  It was funny I did not remember him, and still did not, but I played along anyway.

            He said, “So, a soldier now, in the Imperial Army.  Your father would be proud.”

            My father was dead, having been gone 2 years now, so I responded, “I have been in the Legion for three years.  My father is proud.”

            The butcher then said, “Sadly, I had not been able to pay my respects at the moment, as we had lost touch for many years.”

            I said, “That is my fault I’m afraid, sir.  I should have written you.”

            The butcher said, “No, no, not your fault my young friend.  Your life in the Legion had certainly taken a toll on your memory.  But, enough speaking of past sorrows.  You must come to my house tonight, and be my guest for dinner.”

            I said, “That is very kind of you, sir.  But, I’m afraid I’ll be taking my dinner in the tavern tonight.”

            Langley then said, “The taverns will have been taken by your companions, and you’ll be forced to take Legion food.  So, I insist.  You’ll also have a comfortable bed to sleep in.”

            I argued with him no further.  I accepted his invitation, and he told me to return that evening, and he would lead me to his home.

            Langley’s house stood on one of the higher alcoves, reached by several flights of stairs.  We arrived at his house at dusk.  He opened the door, and let me inside.  The air was immediately warm, as there was a fire in the hearth.  Also, I could smell the aroma of chicken cooking. 

            Langley shouted out someone’s name, a name I was vaguely familiar with, but a face I could not place to the name.  Before long, a young woman who looked to be my age, was walking toward us.  She wore an old dress, had long, dark hair that ran all the way down her back, and over her shoulders, covering opposite sides of her breasts.

            Langley introduced me, or rather reintroduced me to his niece.  Her name was Rielle  And, now, the memories flooded my mind, memories of meeting her at 13.  I knew her to be 2 years younger than I, as she was 11 at the time.  I remember having something of a liking for the girl, as she was very pretty.  Like her uncle, she was dark-skinned, not as dark-skinned as a Redguard, but definitely carried a darkish, honey texture, and this feature had only made her prettier.  She was now a woman of 22 I guessed, and radiant with beauty. 

After her uncle reintroduced us, and we shared greetings, he told Rielle to go upstairs and put on something a bit more fitting for in the presence of a soldier.  She nodded, and smiled at me, and turned and walked up the stairs.

When she reappeared, she was wearing a nice, light purple dress, which only enhanced her features.  Langley and I sat at the table, while she finished preparing dinner.  It was only about 15 minutes before dinner was ready.

Langley had taken the girl in when she was 10, as her family had perished from a plague that ravaged their village.  She had an elder brother, Gerich, who was serving in the Imperial Legion at the time, and according to Langley at the dinner table, was still stationed in the Imperial City.  Her parents just couldn’t ask him to turn from his duties to care for his sister, as they were very proud of their heritage as Imperials, not proud of the Empire as it had become, but out of their loyalty to Talos. They believed that though the Empire was corrupt and falling apart, Talos desired that the Empire continue, and believed everything would one day be put back into place, that one day, somehow, a Septim would one day rise again to the throne.  Before long, Langley’s niece was setting plates and utensils before us, and serving up a fine portion of chicken and potatoes, and joined us at the table.  The food was very good.

Rielle did not speak much at dinner, and only looked at me with a fleeting smile.

Langley opened the conversation, “So, if I may ask, what are soldiers doing here in Hofgard?”

I told him that I was stationed in Windhelm, and was now on a course for the Imperial City.

He then said, “So that’s why you’re here.  I heard about the attack.  It was orcs, was it not?”

I replied, “Yes it was.  We are heading there, to…to back up the garrison there.”  I paused, but only for a brief moment.  My mission was secret; not to mention, I did not want to cause concern for my life.  Rielle asked, “Is my brother alright?”

I said, “I’m sure he is.  We have not though heard any details of injuries or casualties yet.”

Langley said, “Well, I hope Mede punishes Orsinium, and for good, not that I like the Emperor.  In fact, perhaps maybe it would be best if the damn city was wiped clean off Tamriel.  Those bastards can’t be trusted.  Savage barbarians, they are.”

I replied, “We don’t think Orsinium was part of it.  There’s some evidence suggesting it is some independent orc tribe.”

Langley said, “Well, Mede better punish them, and punish them severely.  And I assure you.  Orsinum is behind it in some way.”  Silence passed at the table, allowing us to finish eating.

The butcher said, “You know, Larrius, my niece’s cooking is considered the finest in Hofgard.”

The young woman blushed as I replied, “I wouldn’t doubt it.  The food has been very delicious.”

Langley said, “I’ve been looking for a fine lad for my niece.  There does not seem to be many in this village.  At least I don’t approve of the lads here.  There’s not many Imperial lads to say the least.” 

Now, if it wasn’t already hinted before, now I was almost certain that Langley

was trying to market his niece to me. 

Langley continued, “You know, I remember that time you and your father came by so many years ago.  You and my niece got along so well, me and your father used to share a joke that perhaps you and her would some day be married.”  Langley then let out quite a haughty laugh.

Laughing to myself and looking toward the woman, she immediately lowered her smiling gaze while picking at her meat.  I returned my gaze toward Langley and he said, “Anyway lad, how long do you think you’ll be here?”

I said, “It depends.  The Captain says we are waiting for word from the Imperial City, on whether they need us.  After we receive the message, I’ll either be returning to my post at Windhelm or on a course for the Imperial City.”

Langley said, “Well, I have a guest bed upstairs all made up.  I hope you’ll be staying with us.”

I replied that I would, and excused myself, telling them I was still tired from my march here.  They bid me goodnight and Langley showed me to my room.

The room is rather small, but contains a small desk where I sit in the candlelight, writing this log entry.  Tomorrow is a new day, and I must now rest.

Smaller Posts and Preview of My Next Story

Yesterday, I released one of my Skyrim fanfic preludes.  I released it as one whole story, which made it a pain the edit the little errors I detected after it was published.

What I'll do from now on, is release chapters of each story in one post.  My second prelude concerns the adventures of an Imperial Legion Soldier by the name of Larrius.  Follow Larrius as he sets out with two companies of soldiers to punish an orc tribe in the Dragontail Mountains for an attack on the Imperial City.  The first part will be released in the next few days.

Journey in Cyrodiil of an Imperial Ranger

In this fan fiction, called 'Journey in Cyrodiil of an Imperial Ranger', a ranger by the name of Adamus arrives in Cyrodiil looking for clues to the identity of his father's assassins.  He is writing to his lover in Summerset Isles, and one can certainly see the Aragorn/Arwen love inspiration. 

            This fan fiction is a sort of experiment in writing a letter/journal formatted fan fiction, as my major fan fiction series will be based on Skyrim, and will be in this sort of format, though it will be more in journal than in letter format.  It was a challenging task, as I knew I was basing this particular tale in Cyrodiil 200 years after Oblivion. 

            This fan fiction is a prelude for my major fanfiction.  You will get a glimpse of one of the major plotlines for the Skyrim fanfiction.  "Journey of an Imperial Ranger" follows the travels of Adamus in Cyrodiil right before he enters Skyrim.  Adamus serves as a major character in my major story, called "Adventures of a Nordic Blacksmith".   

This fan fiction is rated M for 'some sexual content'.

To my dearest,

            It is Last Seed 27, and I have arrived at my destination.  The ship pulled into Leyawiin late that night, as pouring rain camouflaged the landscape.  It has been three weeks since I left the port of Dusk, with not much to do other than to think of you.  The sea is quite dreadful, and I have learned to despise it.  The days seem as an eternity and the nights sorrowful.  You must be laughing as you read this, thinking how eternity could fit in a day.  The ship sails on and on, and yet nothing is seen beyond the horizon, neither to the north, south, east, or west.  Soon, you're beginning to go mad, believing you haven't moved at all.  Meanwhile, in harsh weather, the ship seems more like a mere play thing of the gods, as it is tossed about on high waves.  I'm certain I would never make a good sailor!

            Well, now the sea voyage is over, and I have finally set foot on Nirn's sweet greenery once more.  As I stated above, on the southern edge of Cyrodiil, overlooking Topal Bay, is the city of Leyawiin.  As I enter the city gates of Leyawiin, a city guard greets me, and guides me through the dark, rainy streets, leading me towards a good tavern where I can get food and drink, get out of these wet clothes, and bed down for the night.

            We soon arrived at a tavern called Five Claws Lodge.  Behind a counter to my right were two Argonians, lost in conversation.  As soon as I shut the door to the tavern, both turned to look at me.  One of them, a female Argonian, greeted me.  That night, I ordered a mug of mead, along with boar and a cob of corn and rice, the first good meal in a long time.  I requested a room, and for 10 gold, it was mine.

            And, now I sit here, my wet clothes removed, I write to you with a candle as my only light.  The Argonian female took my clothes and said they should be ready for me in the morning.  I will send this letter to you in the morning, and will write again as soon as I can.

                                                                                                Adamus

To my dearest,

            It is Last Seed 29.  I write this at the end of a long, adventurous day.  Yesterday, however, was another story.  It had been raining since the night before when I arrived.  It continued raining the whole day, so I used that time to catch up on some real needed rest, as I had many nights on the ship that were sleepless.

            Even by late evening of the 28th, it was raining, so I resolved to stay put in the tavern.  This morning, I awoke when it was still dark outside.  But, the eastern sky was beginning to light up, and I knew the sun was not far behind.  So, I decided to have a look inside Leyawiin's chapel, its entrance being right across from the tavern.

            There are three entrances to the chapel, an entrance from the south, west, and north.  There are stairs that lead down to a chapel undercroft and the chapel hall, which were both locked.  Past the downward stairs, leading to the chapel's eastern end, are several pews.  At the front of the chapel is a round altar.  The chapel contains stained glass windows, and each contains an image of one of the Nine Divines.  I meet a priestess, who reveals that this chapel is dedicated to Zenithar, one of the Nine Divines.

            When I leave the chapel, the sun has risen above the horizon, shedding light on the town.  Coming to a shop called 'Best Goods and Guarantees', I am greeted by a Bosmer, who speaks to me of the new laws and regulations by Emperor Mede.  I purchase some arrows for my bow and some paper and ink.  After a fine discussion

on the state of the Empire, I leave the shop to explore more of the town.

            Many of the homes are quite large, consisting of three floors, along with several medium homes to small shacks.  Much of the population here, seems to be Argonian, but from my lessons, I know that Cyrodiil is actually well blended in the races that reside in Cyrodiil.  However, most cities have their own majority.

            This evening, as I returned, there were three Argonians, including the tavern keeper, as well as a Khajiit female sitting at a small table drinking.  I ordered a mug of mead and some bread before going to bed, as well as purchase my store for the traveling I plan to do the next few days.  It may be some time before I can write again, so goodbye my love, till next time.

                                                                                                Adamus

To my dearest,

It is the 4th of Hearth Fire.  I have returned to the coziness of Five Clothes Lodge.  Upon my return, the Argonian tavern keeper gave me a letter, from the Countess of Leyawiin herself.  It stated that I should come to the castle the morning after my return to Leyawiin, once I am well rested and refreshed.  According to the letter, she claims to know where I can find more about my father's murder, but wishes to meet with me personally, as my father had good relations with the Counts and Countesses of Cyrodiil.

            You probably want to hear more of my adventures the last few days. On the 30th of Last Seed, after making sure my provisions were good, I left the tavern.  There was a fog as I left the tavern, not very thick, but enough to where I could see only several strides in front of me.  I exited through the eastern gate, and trailed off the main road into the dense swampland.

            I know I need not give you a geography lesson, but with Cyrodiil being along the western border of Black Marsh, many miles of dense swamp permeates throughout the south of Cyrodiil, comprising a region known as Blackwood, a land with tall trees and bodies of water approaching as deep as my waist.  Cyrodiil's close proximity to Black Marsh likely explains why so many wretched Argonians take up residence in Leyawiin.  Thieves and assassins they are.  In all likelihood, my father was murdered by one of these reptiles.  I'm not sure why the Empire allows them to run the taverns and inns of Cyrodiil.  They can't be trusted with travelers.

            By the 1st of Hearth Fire, I had traveled deep within the marshes.  By noon, I had stumbled upon a great ruin, a large marble-like, white-stone structure, hiding the entrance to a great city, though I dared not enter into it.  I'm sure by my description you have been able to conclude that I had come by one of the great Ayleid civilizations of ancient times. 

            After I passed by the Ayleid ruin, I turned away from my east course and onto a southward course, in order to make a roundabout return to Leyawiin, as I felt I was passing too close to Black Marsh for comfort, likely to be observed by Argonian spies. By the next morning, I turned on a south-west course, so that I may return to Leyawiin

            It was the afternoon of the 4th when I looked upon the walls of Leyawiin, and returned to the tavern.  I am writing you after a fine dinner of rice, beef, and sweet rolls.  Shadows now fall upon the streets of Leyawiin.  Tomorrow, I shall meet with the Countess, and find out what I can about my father.  I shall write you again tomorrow, and tell you what I found out.  I love you, and am with you always.

                                                                                                Adamus

To my dearest,

            It is the evening of the 5th of Hearth Fire.  I have met with the Countess of Leyawiin.  This morning, I awoke at 9:00 sharp, eating a swift breakfast of sweet rolls, and being on my way, arriving at Castle Leyawiin an hour after.The Countess appeared to be in her fifties, quite old in human years.  "Greetings young Adamus," she said.  "I can't tell you how wonderful it is to meet the son of Skyrim's finest Jarl."

            I replied, "I never imagined a Countess would wish to meet with someone such as myself.  I know my father was an important man, and yet I know so little about him."

            The Countess said, "A noble man he was, both in stature and in heart.  Not many men of noble stature possess the nobility of heart.  Many are corrupted by power, but your father never allowed that power to corrupt him."

            Adamus said, "You said you know how I might find more about my father's assassination in your letter.  Where should I go from here?"

            The Countess said, "A man of business, as your father was.  But also he was a man of pleasure.  I know that you are likely in a hurry though, so here are your instructions.  Go to the Imperial City.  There you will be contacted."

            Adamus asked, "Do you know anything, though?  Do the Argonians have anything to do with this?"

            The Countess said, "Do not be so presumptuous, young Adamus.  There are other forces in this world, other than the ludicrous conspiracy by Argonians to take over Tamriel!  Be open to other possibilities."

            Adamus asked, "Where in the Imperial City should I go?"

            The Countess replied, "To the Merchant's Inn, in the Market District.  There you will be contacted.  I can say no more. Do you wish to leave immediately?"

            I said, "I plan to leave as soon as the dawn tomorrow."

            The Countess said, "You should be my guest for the evening then."

            I nodded and said, "That would be gracious, my lady."

            She then called a servant, a young Argonian male, who then lead me to the bath room.  I had a nice hot bath, and then had lunch with the Countess.  We were served venison and rice and bread, and didn't speak much.  The Countess said she had much business to tend to, that we would converse that night at supper.

            It wasn't till 9:00 when we had supper, a meal of beef, corn, soup, and sweetroll.  As we dined, we spoke of the events occurring in Cyrodiil, and Black Marsh.  The Countess was especially curious about Summerset Isles.  The last we spoke of was the recent death of the High King of Skyrim.  According to the Countess, things were not

looking good in Skyrim, and feared a Civil War was fixing to cover the entire country.

            At 10:00, she rose from the table, bid me goodnight, and went to her chambers.  I was led by the same Argonian male servant to my chamber.  It really is a nice room, a king's sized bed along with silk curtains, a small table set with wine, and a balcony overlooking Topal Bay.  As I write, I am sitting on the balcony, peering over Topal Bay, where I know you wait for the day I return, which may not be for a while.  Tomorrow morning, I set out for the Imperial City. 

            Goodnight, fair lady, until we meet again.

                                                                                                            Adamus

My dearest,

            It is the late evening of the 8th of Hearth Fire.  I am now in a small village called Aleswell, writing in my room in a tavern called Aleswell Inn.  It is a quaint little settlement, north across the lake from where the Imperial City awaits.

            I slept well in Castle Leyawiin.  Early the next morning, I left, along with 3 Leyawiin guards, at which the Countess insisted I take along with me to the Imperial City.  We traveled all that day, finally stopping late in the evening to make camp.  Only once had we actually run into bandits, who had ambushed us early in the afternoon.  There were 3 of them in which I assisted the guards in putting down.

            The next day, we left late in the morning, and came to a burned down village called Cropsford.  It felt good to have a bed, even if the only bed you could find was in a nearly destroyed tavern, with parts of its foundation still holding, but bits of ceiling gone.  It must have rained not long after the fire consumed it, or there'd be hardly anything left of the tavern.

            In an old drawer, I found a journal belonging to some poor old bloke in the year 433 of the 3rd Era.  It was a moment before I remembered this was the year of the Oblivion invasion, the time of the hero of Kvatch, the time of the Champion of Cyrodiil. He tells of the time the Champion of Cyrodiil helped the village's development, and alludes to some problem with goblins, which was keeping the village from being built.  It seems the Champion of Cyrodiil rid them of their goblin trouble, and the settlement of Cropsford eventually grew to the status of a village.

            Well, apparently what happened here was some kind of attack on the village.  I have already found several skeletons with busted ribs, and some with cracked ribs laying around.  It was probably some orc band that raided this village, and not that long ago either, possibly only a few years back.

            We slept well that night, and arose early the next morning.  By mid morning that day, we were riding by a large lake, Lake Rumare, which surrounds the isle on which the Imperial City stood.  That evening, after a full day's ride, we came to a village called Aleswell, and stopped at the inn, from which I write now.  I am told that we should reach the Imperial City by noon tomorrow, if we rise early and make good time.  So, it's off to bed for me. 

            Goodnight, my love.

                                                                                                            Adamus

My dearest,

            It is the 9th of Hearth Fire.  I am in the Imperial City, as I said I would.  We arrived in the Imperial City early in the afternoon and checked in at Merchant's Inn in the Market District.  After we obtained some lunch, one of the guards insisted we go to the Arena.  I must say I am surprised this barbaric form of entertainment goes on.  I have to put one thing to you.  Your civilization is not quite as barbaric as ours.  In the Arena, there are two teams.  One fighter from each team fights the other, to the death.  It is bloody, and can last at the most 20 minutes.

            When we were done there, we went back to the inn, and waited at a small table in the corner of the room.  We waited, and waited, yet no one approached.  Evening turned to night, and night turned to midnight.  Exhausted, we decided to go to bed.

            But, to tell you the truth, I couldn't sleep.  I felt in my heart that I would receive answers tonight, but nothing happened.  I don't know how long I'll be in this great city.  At times like this, when I'm distraught, or feel there's no end to my trial, I think of you.

            I still remember that night, before I left.  It had been months since I professed my love to you.  But, we both knew.  Elven society, Altmer especially, looks down upon Altmer women who fall in love with men of another race.  So, I had made clear with myself, that though I loved you, I would not enter into relations with you. 

            That night before I left, I was standing in your tower on your father's land, with one hand resting on the wall, peering out of the balcony across the rich vineyards.  You were lying on your couch.

            You asked me, after many minutes of our blessed silence, "What is it you wish for?"

            I said, "The man who killed my father will pay.  He will beg for death, but I shall not be so merciful.  I will wound him, and using the magic I learned from your kind, heal him.  Then, I'll jab him again, so that he won't die.  I'll heal him again, and continue the cycle until he has bled to death."

            I remember what you were wearing that night.  It was a long, silky night gown, with long sleeves, the only opening being the long slit that ran along either side of your chest.

            You rose from the couch, came over to me, and asked, "And do you think that will truly heal the pain in your heart?"

            I then said, "I know of nothing that will heal my pain."

            You then said, with words of youthful wisdom, "Do not seek the path of vengeance.  In many ways you can't see yet, it will lead to more pain.  The path of justice though, while it cannot heal pain, brings comfort, comfort knowing the wrongdoer has been punished."

            It was a moment before I spoke again, for I considered your words.  I then said, "Justice then, will prevail.  But still, I doubt not my pain will subside.  I love you, fair lady."

            You then said, "Then, show me your love.  Take me to bed with you."

            I said, "But, your father.  If he should discover, you shall be shunned!"

            You said, "Shunning would not be as dreadful as the pain I will feel when you at last leave my side.  Kiss me now, and do not worry about the consequences."

            I then took your hands and pulled you close, my lips met yours, and we remained that way, locked in perpetual bliss.  As my lips ran along your jaw, you removed your hands from my grasp, and opened your gown from the front, which slowly slid off onto the floor.  There I beheld a beauty by which eye has never seen.  Your body, as a fair golden beach, your breasts full and healthy.  Kissing you once more, I slid my lips down your jawline, down to your neck.  I then put my arms around your thigh and lifted you up, and laid you down on the couch.  The rest, I'm sure you recall as you read this.  It was a blissful night, but one I'm sure has brought you pain in some way.

            I will make this my last letter, for a little while.  I must prepare myself for my encounter with whomever I will meet.  And for that, I must let go, but for a little.  But, I promise you.  Once I have met whom I have come to meet, I will write again.  I promise.

            Goodnight, sweet lady.

                                                                                                            Adamus

My dearest,

            It is now the 14th of Hearth Fire.  It has been a long wait, but I have finally met my contact in the Imperial City.  To my surprise, my contact was an Argonian.  Though he wouldn't give me his name, he said he knew something about my father's assassins.  I asked him who was responsible.  He told me he did not know, but talked about my father's political doings. 

            At the time before his murder, there was talk among a few of the Jarls of Skyrim of the possible implementation of slavery in Skyrim.  According to the Argonian, my father was the staunchest opponent of bringing slavery to Skyrim.  He told me that if I wanted to know more, that I should head for Skyrim, where I may discover the answers in time.  However, to my surprise, the Argonian did reveal his profession.  He told me he was a Shadowscale Agent, and assured me that Argonia, or Black Marsh as we call it, had nothing to do with my father's death, that my father was a beacon of light that helped hold back the tide of slavery, and Argonia's mission, was to make sure the practice was never reimplemented after its abolishment in Morrowind.

            Our meeting concluded.  The Argonian got up and disappeared from the tavern.  I sat alone for a while, and my guards soon rejoined me.  I told them I was going to Skyrim to find my father's assassins.  They told me they wished they could join me, but that their task was done and that they would be departing for Leyawiin in the morning.  I told them that I never expected or desired they should abandon their duties for another land. 

            After a good supper and a mug of ale, toasting my health and good fortune, we went back to our rooms.  Now, I sit here in candlelight, considering my path.  I am heading north, to Skyrim.  Bruma is the last patch of civilization I may encounter before crossing the border.  So, I may be able to write once more.  Then, our words may have to part for the time being. 

            Goodnight, fair lady of Summerset Isles.

                                                                                                            Adamus

           

My dearest,

            It is now the 18th of Hearth Fire.  I have come to Bruma and am settled in an inn.  My journey, however, was not without encounter.  I left the Imperial City in the early morning hours of the 15th of Hearth Fire.  It was the afternoon of the 16th when I had quite a surprise.  I spotted a dragon flying up from the south.  I was nearly paralyzed from the sight, not out of fear, but out of belief I was seeing something that wasn't there.

            It wasn't more than a moment before I moved.  I climbed off my horse, and tried to pull him to a safe space beneath an alcove.  Then, the dragon began to fly low, coming straight for me.  My horse by now was panicking, so much that I could not control the animal.  He quickly pulled away from my grasp and galloped away.  I watched, as the dragon, too fast for any horse, swooped down and grabbed the poor beast in its talons.  It flew away, seeming to have forgotten about me.

            I stayed beneath the cliff's alcove for the last bit of the afternoon and camped there for the night.  The next morning, I began the slow trek northward, towards Bruma. 

            It was not till the morning after when I arrived in Bruma.  Bruma is a town high up in the Jerall Mountains. Nords make up much of its population.  Its buildings are mainly constructed of wood, since wood is quite plentiful here in the mountains.  It is cold here, so I bought some fur armor with the last of the gold given to me by the Countess of Leyawiin.

            This is the last time I shall write for quite a while, my love.  I am in great pain at the moment, for I do not know when I shall be able to write again.  My journey from here is to enter Skyrim at Pale Pass, for which I shall not delay and leave tomorrow.  I love you, and always have.  Some day, I will return.  I promise.

            Goodnight, fair lady.  Till we meet again.  

                                                                                                            Adamus

This, as you can see, is Adamus's last letter to his elven lover before he crosses the border into Skyrim.  Adamus is not the main character in the next story, but he is a major one, as the reasons he is in Skyrim are just about as significant as the main character's reason for coming to Skyrim. 

            Preview for my major story: “Adventures of a Nordic Blacksmith” follows the excursions of a Nord by the name of Kalthar Northwode, a young man who was training to be a blacksmith before his father was murdered and his sister disappeared.  Kalthar enters Skyrim looking for his sister, and to avenge his father.  You will find that Kalthar not only has his own objectives in Skyrim, but will also confront a great evil (the game's plot).  Like the prelude you have just read, “Adventures of a Nordic Blacksmith' will be written in a first-hand account by Kalthar himself, mainly by journal, but will also include letters he writes to people and the letters he receives from others.   

            As you can guess, the story will contain major spoilers from Skyrim, which is why I will not post any of the story until 2 months after release and even then I will put a strong warning before the story begins. 

            Some significant mysteries related to the events of the prelude that you will uncover in “Adventures of a Nordic Blacksmith” are:

            1. Who murdered Adamus's father and for what reason?

            2. Who is the Altmer woman Adamus left in Summerset Isles?

3. What is the significance of the dragon sighting by Adamus? (If you know the general plot of Skyrim, then you already know this answer.)

4. Will Leyawiin's Countess or the Argonian Shadowscale Agent have any part to play in the story?

            5. How does Kalthar and Adamus meet?

            6. The events of Adamus' journey after leaving Bruma.

Stay tuned for more stories from major characters who play a major role in the upcoming "Adventures of a Nordic Blacksmith."