Daggerfall

Session 9 - Sundas the 1st of Second Seed 3E, 405th Year - Sundas the 15th of Midyear 3E, 405th Year
Mad Ravings of a Lunatic

I still think it’s 300 years ago.

Welcome, Schizophrenics and Psychopaths, Maniacs and Madmen, Daydreamers and Haberdashers, to New Sheoth’s greatest show, The Not-Mundane Tales of Mundus! With your host, Heirammus the Void Caller! But first! A word from our sponsor, Tove’s Tongs! Tove! What do you have for us today?

“I’ll buy your calibers. The ones you gave me next week.”

Good, good Tove. You know how valuable calipers are. Just have to remember giving them to you later. So, dear mad men, are you ready for today’s tale? As many of you know, I was banished from the Isles because the Dark Brotherhood were driving themselves CRAZY trying to fulfill that old contract on me. Apparently, Momma won’t shut up about me and how I stole Daddy’s shoes. They have really been killing the mood around here, quite literally, between their not so inspired stabbings and all around being boring. But that is another story for the days of some other time!

What most of you don’t know is I met the most interesting five companions for this little trip I am going on. You all know Broan, the blind war priest who sees his enemies by glory shouting vibrations!
(The party’s reaction to Broan’s echolocation included in image)
Sheogorath has had his eyes on him since he sent that annoying s’wit ‘worshipper’ to his grave. Sometimes literally! It’s funny to watch the Old Hat’s eyes touching Broan while he sleeps. Best part are nose eyes. Makes him snore in orcish.

But then there are my other companions! Jo’zin-Dar and his friend, “This One!” I believe “This One!” is a dragon, because a reliable source tells me that dragons are invisible, and I have never seen This One, but Jo’zin talks about him all the time. This One is very wise, as he is always giving the party good advice through Jo’zin.

(Maybe this one is a tiny invisible human child? A dragon would be too large to conceal, yes?)

Next, there is Ulrich, our newest companion! A male Dibellan priest, featured in many steamy Dibellan novels, he draws his divine power from the collective sounds of every woman on Mundus calling out ‘Oh Divines!’ during coitus. Bonus spells if they are masturbating to one of his books!

And finally, there is Azagoth! He is serious and boring, and merits little description.
Signature hat included.

Now, we were sent on a perilous journey to deliver a piece of paper to the King of Worms!
Lines of power not available if viewed in mortal format.

Danger lurked around every corner in the form of slavery, necromancers, maggots, and paper cuts. But there was also glory, fun, and a chance… at EXPERIMENTATION!

Yes, dear mad men. I found something. A very, very normal ruby. And I wondered, in this dark cave… oh yeah, we were in a dark cave. In this dark cave, I found a very, very normal ruby! And I determined that casting the spell “Light” on it should make the ruby give off a shiny, red, and sparkly light, instead of the normal color of light one would expect. This, of course, is drawn from Sheogorath’s Law of Arcane Likelihood, which states if something awesome could happen, it probably will.

The well known second law

However, it DIDN’T! Sheogorath’s will was defied, and there had to be a reason, probably, maybe! So, while my companions fought an argonian necromancer fire shaman, I delved into the deep mysteries of the arcane world, and their interaction with divine sources of power. And the solution was so obvious! The problem was Multiple Arcane Theological Turbulence! As some of you know, this is a condition caused by multiple extremely devout divine casters being located in the same area, on the same side. A form of arcane synergy begins, but their conflicting natures, and the conflicting nature of their sources of power, hinder each other, causing divine alterations to spells to not work properly. This is most notable for Sheogorthian priests, because we like to do our magic with a bit of pizazz!

Anyway, the necromancer kicked our asses, then ran away. But remember the morale of the story children! M.A.T.T. is a dick!

Never forget.
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Session 8: Middas The 11th of Rain's Hand, 3E, 405th Year - Sundas the 1st of Second Seed 3E, 405th Year
By Jo'Zin-Dar Thrice Shackled

Jo’Zin-Dar’s Missive

[This cream colored parchment is folded and sealed with a dab of black wax. The insignia upon the wax is not immediately recognizable as belonging to any noble family or merchant house; but a clever examiner might notice a striking resemblance to the insignia of the Blades. The words in the letter itself are penned in a flowing, elegant script.]

Dearest Joanna,

Jo’Zin feels he must apologize that you’ve not heard from him since the shipwreck. Though he wanted to assure you of his safety, he thought it most wise to wait until he was able to find others loyal to the cause, so as to ensure the security and secrecy of this missive. Per the instructions of our mutual friend, this one will keep you well appraised of the situation as he and his new companions undertake their mission.

Jo’Zin’s first meeting was with the dunmer Liliana Varindes. A warrior with an unorthodox style, but nonetheless no dearth of prowess. We decided to seek out the others together once it became evident that we held the same allegiance, but this one fears that he may have come off as less than friendly to her. Liliana did not bear this khajiit any ill will, but the old memories that a dunmer brandishing a whip brought to the surface was enough to make trusting her difficult – irrational as that may be. Her scent was most strongly that of Cyrodiilian perfume… and not a hint of netch leather. It is more likely that she hailed from the Imperial City than any place in Morrowind itself. Over time, perhaps the suspicion could have been overcome.

Three others make up the remainder of our band. The first, also recently found after the shipwreck, goes by the name of Heirammus. Jo’Zin does not know the remainder of his name, or if he has one, nor his race. Heirammus has mentioned the Summerset Isles, so Jo’Zin would suspect him to be altmer, but he’s too short for that to be true. He smells of things unnatural and unknowable, and while the others may shrug off his claim of being hundreds of years old as the ravings of a madman, this one believes there may be truth to it. Heirammus’ magicks are far more potent than this khajiit’s, and while he now fights alongside us, Jo’Zin questions the stability of the strange one’s mind. Here, Jo’Zin must trust that our mutual friend exercised his usual good judgement when he recruited Heirammus.

Broan gro-Atumhash the orsimer is a devout warrior-priest of the divine Talos… which Jo’Zin was able to discern literally within seconds of meeting him (seconds being the length of time it took for him to begin speaking). Broan is stony-faced and often frowning, and he overwhelmingly smells of old blood; it is strongest upon his decorated spear, and his loud and boastful talk of battle in the name of his god suggests that all of it was drawn by his own hand. His speech is simple and to the point, and Jo’Zin suspects that the intricacies of language are often lost on the orsimer. Broan’s insistence upon ‘fair and honorable’ combat places his methods directly opposite Jo’Zin’s, but this one must admit that the orc’s fervor is inspiring.

Finally, there is a dunmer by the name of Azagoth Valen. Where Broan is boisterous, Azagoth is quiet and reserved. Dangerous. His is the smell of smoke and charred things… and the familiar scent of reagents of destruction magicka. A battlemage by vocation, Jo’Zin thinks it likely that this battlemage strongly prefers the fire magic which is so intrinsic to the dunmer. Jo’Zin has seen his kind before wield steel and spell together with deadly effect, so this khajiit is glad to have Azagoth fighting on our side. The battlemage is not much of a talker, however, so little else could be discerned.

As for Jo’Zin’s activities thus far, most notably his band performed a task in the name of the elite Order of the Raven. This group was tasked with destroying the Butcher Birds; a powerful ring of bandits who had taken camp in the region and were terrorizing the local countryside. The Ravens had discerned their location, and it was our job to eradicate them. From what rumors found their way to Jo’Zin’s ear, these bandits had quite the reputation, and the nine day travel to their camp was one rife with apprehension. Heirammus was his usual mad self, and Broan was elated. Jo’Zin actually believes he caught the orc in a smile when he didn’t think anyone was looking.

Once we reached camp, Jo’Zin-Dar scouted the lay of the land so his companions could best plan the assault. Noting that very few of the bandits were creatures well-suited to the dark (most were breton), the group opted to attack under cover of night. Jo’Zin-Dar disguised himself with magic as one of their number, and he was able to infiltrate the camp with relative ease and position himself while his companions approached from the east. Jo’Zin was not as effective as he hoped, however — only one sleeping bandit was ended in silence before pitched battle was upon the camp. The bandits’ reputation was well-earned — they were skilled and deadly combatants. Two more fell by Jo’Zin-Dar’s hand as his companions endured the brunt of the battle. Most of the Birds hesitated to engage Broan in battle — this one is not certain why, but is sure that divine protection was at work. Liliana fought well, but as the Birds began to surround her with their sheer numbers, she was unable to use her whip to best effect. Heirammus spent much of the fight tangled up in animated vines, and was unable to bring his full power to bear, instead summoning scamps to aid in the battle. Azagoth, while arriving late due to the same animated vines, quickly set to cleaving bandits in two; he is as deadly as Jo’Zin expected – but again, as more and more foes joined the fray, it became difficult for him to fend them all off.

Ultimately, it looked like we had been defeated. Liliana and Heirammus had fallen — along with a dozen of our foes. But still, four Butcher Birds remained. Broan had charged away, after a fleeing Bird, and Azagoth had withdrawn to the south, as two bretons gave chase. Zin-Dar ran to Broan’s side, ready to retreat and plan our next move. But to this khajiit’s surprise, his companions were not broken.

Broan charged back into the battle, heedless of danger. And Azagoth turned back to plow into his foes with a burst of flame. They were outnumbered, and wounded, but determined to save the fallen. Perhaps Jo’Zin had been hit on the head too many times in the fight, but he decided that he must help too. Jo’zin received two arrows for his bravery, and learned his lesson. Still, the battle was won, while he is sad that Liliana did not survive the battle, Jo’Zin is glad that at least one was saved.

Jo’Zin-Dar will learn from this fight, and be more cunning in the future.. Worry not for his safety, for he will return to Joanna.

Eternally Joanna’s friend and grateful apprentice,

Jo’Zin-Dar Thrice Shackled of Morrowind

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Letter Received From Priness Morgiahs of Wayrest
Sundas the 1st of Second Seed 3E, 405th Year

Dear Azagoth & Company,

My eyes and ears abroad say that you are interested in the fate of
a certain letter. Any emperor should not be so careless, nor should
a queen. You really should come visit me in Castle Wayrest when you have the chance. I have some most interesting tidbits that I am sure you would enjoy hearing.

—Morgiah
Princess of Wayrest

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Session 7: Loredas The 27th of First Seed , 3E, 405th Year - Middas The 11th of Rain's Hand
By Azagoth Valen

The first half of this tower was a blur to me. After the shock of battle had faded we realized the true danger lie beyond; this white dragon that we were sent here to slay. We could sense it’s chilling presence, waiting to taste our warm blood.

We did not expect it to have company. We battled against some foul woman and the scaled beast. The dragon blasted us with its frost breath but our preparations paid off and we were unscathed. Seeing it’s cowardly tactics ineffective, it began circling around using its reach advantage, while the wench was distracting half of the group with a wicked axe.

Seeing this beast in action I realized the folly of engaging it alone from close range and began to poke at it with a pole-arm as it evaded Broan and his fervent screams to Talos. The dragon instead settled on Khyu-Grym, lashing out with all of it’s attacks.

However; the beast was still a beast and all beasts bleed. Broan pierced its scaly hide and began to pull it towards the ground. I dropped my pole-arm and drew my trusted blade. I was not quick enough though and the beast delivered a mighty blow to Khyu-Grym; a blow that would have dropped most warriors, yet Khyu-Grym held fast (I still do not know if it was bravery or foolishness, or perhaps he was too stubborn to fall) but he did not survive the rest of the onslaught and was rent before our very eyes. Then my blade struck home and the creature fell.

dragon_master1_web.jpg

We held a proper farewell for Kyhu-Grym. We also went back to the mages guild, hopefully we do not get shown out right away this time. There is much the mages guild can offer if only the group would realize this. Perhaps in time they will see that swords are not always the best answer.

As promised we returned to the Order of the Raven. They seemed pleased and somewhat surprised that we made it back (for the most part). The Baron and Baroness were also pleased but I did notice the Baroness’ body language was slightly less composed. Turns out she knew Khyu-Grym and was saddened to hear about his untimely end. I assured her that he died valiantly.

The Ravens mentioned something about a Butcher Bird Camp setting Broan into a frenzy, so much so he was smashing the wall with his head. So after rallying up some supplies we are ready to head out.

We have already lost so many allies in the short time that we have been on this quest. Serasate fell in the dungeon when we crashed, Khyu-Grym in battle with the beast, and now the cowardice of Marella as she stole away in the night. It matters not if all my allies fall. Azagoth Valen will remain vigilant in this task for his Emperor!

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Session 6: Middas The 24th of First Seed , 3E, 405th Year - Loredas The 27th of First Seed , 3E, 405th Year
By Broan Gro Atumhash

[A pristine book of bleached leather is filled with elegant parchment, fit for a proper regaling of the glories of Talos and the battles there in.]

[Entry 2]

5th -6th of First Seed, 3E, 405th Year.

Oh mighty Talos, long have my dreams been spent fighting along your holy battlefields, glory intertwined and life well spent.
This servant fears his life will be spent fighting boring and quite frankly insultingly easy battles, til I may die in bed, old of age and heavy of heart.

Please my Hero-King, I beg of you to send a worthy battle, one whose record will be worthy of these pages, one whom shall not fail to please.

24th of First Seed, 3E, 405th Year.

By Talos’ finely polished greatsword!

I have been given instruction by the Order of the Ravens, as a requirement to join thier order, to slay a dragon!
My heart it sings Talos! My blood thunders with a chance to truly prove myself.

Please dearest Talos, I beg of you, let diplomacy fail, let the beast be prepared, let the battle chatter be saucy and as always, its end bring you great pleasure.

I, Broan gro-Atumhash, do hereby solemnly swear that tomorrow my story might just truly begin!

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Session 5: Tirdas the 10th of Sun's Dawn - Middas The 24th of First Seed, 3E, 405th Year.
By Khyu'Grym Raggswörg

This is leading up to be one of the most complicatedly strange adventures in my life. Sure, there were the trials of the giants, and I did that roaming work for the blades… but this adventure has been of a different sort. I have lost count of how many poisons and diseases have ravaged my body. My memory isn’t what it used to be, perhaps a side effect of the concussions I’ve suffered. More than a handful of times, my life has been saved by one of my compatriots. I have never once used the term friend since Victoria left… at least, not until recently. For the first time in years, I feel like I have a purpose. As the blood pours from my wounds, and my friends battle at my sides, I feel alive!

Recently, I renewed my membership with the Fighter’s Guild, and the group did a few odd jobs here and there, trying to make enough coin to scrape by. With the coin coming in, I’ve been able to party a little – in my own way.

Come to find out, not all partying is good for you. One night, I got piss drunk and wandered around the forest nearby, singing to the moon and the stars. Next thing I know, I’m hung over in the bed of this ugly maiden – at least I hope “she” was a maiden, but I did not stay long enough to check – and nearly a week has passed. I should be more careful buying liquor and smokes from black market dealers. That shit might get me killed faster than any ghosts.

Ghosts… now that’s a thought, isn’t it? They say that Daggerfall city is absolutely full of them at night. I would like to believe that it is some kind of bullshit hoax perpetrated by some temple or another, but I know better. My sword arm quivers with both fear and anticipation at the mere thought of going toe-to-toe with such a thing. Even when I think things through, my heart longs for combat. They say that such cravings are in the blood of every Orsimer.

But back to my story. We get this crazy letter from someone – don’t remember the name, but they said it was a woman working for the Emperor – claiming to be on our side. We curried along down the paths, and some idiots decided to attack us. Had it been me, I’d have used better ambush tactics. Of course, had it been me, I’d probably not attack a sizable group with only two people. It was poorly thought out; no wonder they followed the lunatic prince. I felt a little sorry for the dunmer woman, because she was a pretty little thing, but her boyfriend – thing – pissed me off when he charged at me. So I cut their heads off and threw them somewhere into the forest. We spent the rest of the afternoon burying a poor traveler that they’d murdered.

So the woman we were going to go see. She was waiting for us at this tavern called the Prancing Pig. I had to stop and stare at the sign when we got there. I thought they bullshitting when they said that this was our destination. Luckily, we didn’t stay there long enough to get into any real trouble. Our lovely priestess Avery went to the back room for a meeting, Marella went to the “other” back room looking for some “company,” Azagoth went about being all mysterious and quiet again, and Broan… my god that oaf would pick a fight with his mirror reflection if he thought it didn’t praise Talos as well as he did. I drank in a corner while watching him man-hug a bunch of other Orsimer that talked about Malacath. In comparison, I’d much rather hear a sermon about Talos.

Well, sermon we did hear! We were told we needed to get in good with the noble houses, and that the best way to do that would be… to be knighted. The entire walk. The entire fucking walk through god-awful forests, in the middle of winter, was filled with Broan’s shouting and boasting. He kept challenging the creatures of the forest, even the damn rabbits and squirrels, to test his mettle. Or was it metal? I can’t remember now… thankfully, we didn’t meet anything to take him up on his offer.

So we met with the knightly order, and what do they ask us to do? Kill a damn dragon. A dragon of all things! Pardon me while I get my dragon killing sword and my dragon killing armor. Oh, and maybe while I’m at it, they can kiss my dragon killing ass… is what I’d like to say to them, but on the other hand, this might be a profitable business venture. Avery saw this as well, and she signed us up to bring the Mage’s Guild some dragon’s scales. Next we went by the Fighter’s Guild to try and get them in on this venture as well. I’ll get back to this point in a moment, but for now, the adventure they sent us on.

Find the guy, blah blah blah, do a job. Typical guild business, and nothing we couldn’t handle. Except the contact was dead on arrival, and there were some spellcasters in there who – frankly – pissed me off. I don’t care that the contact is dead, because I got paid, but you could at least have the finesse to pretend you weren’t caught red handed. Another bunch of lowlifes with a poorly thought out plan, this time they were Dark Brotherhood rejects. When the first one dropped, and we had the second one surrounded, I made a simple taunt. I told him that he could still turn himself in.

I didn’t think he’d take me seriously! dude just dropped everything he was doing, threw his hands up, and asked us to take him to jail. We did just that, making sure to leave the house exactly as we found it. So yeah. Dark Brotherhood goon behind bars, we made our way back to the guild. They complained and griped about the dead contact, but hey. They understood that it wasn’t our fault, and they threw in some spare change for our efforts.

Eh… then came the funny shit. You see, on the way back, Avery asked me all sorts of odd questions. Things about what parts of the dragon can do what. I told her that most of the parts could be used for something or another, and that back home, we even had this food made of dragon testicles and mountain flowers. Said to boost your libido or some shit like that. I didn’t really believe it, but Avery’s eyes looked like they would fall out of her skull. It looked like she could already hear the coins jingling in her pouch.

It made me laugh so fucking hard when the guy called her a blatant liar and a cheat. She was able to convince him that it was legitimate business, but I think they’re suspicious of us again. Either way, we have skulls to split and money to make. Next stop; a mysterious dark tower with a pissed off dragon!

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Meeting With Lady Brisiena
Tirdas the 22nd of Sun's Dawn

Avery met with Lady Magnessen alone in a back room of the Prancing Pig:

“Ah, thank you for responding to my letter. I am Lady Brisienna, sorry for the deception in my name but it was important my identity not get around. Let me bring you to date on affairs. The spectre of King Lysandus haunts the streets of Daggerfall at night. Trying to communicate with him is futile. He will occasionally moan the word “Vengeance,” but that is the only coherent word I have ever heard him utter. If you are ever in Daggerfall, do not wander the city at night. You are certain to be attacked by his legion of ghosts and they will overwhelm ones even as powerful as you. It is futile anyway, no matter how many are killed there seems to be an endless number.

It would probably be more gainful to investigate those who might have wronged Lysandus to find the cause behind his torment. I do not know if the royal family of Daggerfall or another person or persons merit more suspicion. The major powers of the Bay are Sentinel, Wayrest, and Daggerfall, they may be good places to start.

If you are having trouble getting anything from the royal families, you may need to increase your power or your reputation with their court before they will have any dealings with you. If the royalty of the court won’t have anything to do with you try working for one of the lesser nobles in their court. Doing a job or two for one of them should elevate you enough that the crown may then speak with you. Or come back later when you’ve gained some more power, they may just consider you too weak to take on whatever they may need done."

“In the matter of the letter, the Emperor’s agent says that he was unable to hand-deliver it to the Queen because of the war. He hired a courier who supposedly delivered the letter in his stead. We do not even know the name of this courier. Obviously, there is little information of use, but it would be worthwhile to see whether the letter arrived at Castle Daggerfall at all. How you decide to do this is entirely your decision. I will contact you if any new information should surface.

I am leaving Daggerfall soon. My position here has been compromised and my life is in danger. Do not mention my name in court. It is more likely to hurt than help. Good luck, and watch your back."

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Session 4: Loredas the 14th Day of Morning Star through Tirdas the 10th of Sun's Dawn, 3E, 405th Year.
By Azagoth Valen

[A simple journal bound in black leather and tied with cord. The book is filled with various illustrations, words wrapping around the pictures, detailing locations, creatures, and allies. The writing seems to be rather succinct, more like research notes with occasional personal entries than an actual journal. On the inside cover is written “The Record of Azagoth Valen, Dunmer of Morrowind, Blade of the Emperor”]

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Letter From Lady Magnessen
Received Tirdas the 10th of Sun's Dawn

I heard about your accident at sea, and feared the worst. Now that I’ve heard you’re alive and well, I would like the opportunity to meet with you and discuss our beloved Emperor’s mission in the Iliac Bay.

Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lady Magnessen, the Emperor’s agent in the court of Daggerfall. My position is not so official as an ambassador. None but other agents of the Emperor know of my true affiliation. The Iliac Bay is rife with rebels against the Imperial throne, so your discretion is required.

For the purpose of our meeting, I will take a room at an inn, The Prancing Pig in Lyonel of Daggerfall, for a month. After that, I will no longer be available. I will expect you as soon as possible.

Yours sincerely,
Brisienna, Lady Magnessen

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Session 3: Sundas the 8th through Loredas the 14th of Morningstar, 3E, 405th Year.
By Avery Atyalah

1st Letter: 5 Morningstar, third Era, 405th Year.

Dear Farwil,
It’s almost dawn.
Broan’s been shouting
All night long
Talos for hours
Freak storm caught us
Out of the blue
Doing our best
Just make it through
Even with our powers
Ol’ Avery isn’t
Scared too much.
Even though things
Are getting rough.
I march on.
With thoughts of home.

I grab my shield
And guard my buddies
So it’s our foes,
and our blades that’re bloody
And we all laugh
Cause there’s something funny
About last second saves
That fight off the grave.

2nd Letter: 7 Morningstar, third Era, 405th Year.

Dear Farwil

No poem today. We visited the Fighter’s Guild first thing in the morning today. They figured it would be a great way to get some easy coin. Our little adventure would have been a great lesson for you. We found two boars that had broken into someone’s house, and were wrecking the place. Instead of killing the boars in cold blood, we tamed them, leading them out of the town. You will be a ruler one day Farwil. As glorious as the battle to the death can be, the merciful are well remembered by history.

The steel should not be forgotten, but many warriors do not go to battle dreaming of their next; they dream of peace, and the day they can set their blades down. I was worried at first, but it seems even Broan understands where true glory lies. We are headed to a manor to clear out some infestations. Should be more easy work. I will send you another letter upon my return. Don’t worry. I will be back in Cheydinhal soon enough.

Avery

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