Skyrim Day 023 - The Midden and the Augur

7 Heartfire, 4E201

Winterhold

~~~

I did not have it in me this morning to stop at Morthal for the book, but I have no doubt I will be in that area at some point in the future anyway. Instead I left Whiterun and spent most of the morning walking the road back to Winterhold. As I left what could be considered the "end" of Whiterun I witnessed two city guards drag the bodies of three bandits away from one of the city's watchtowers. The banditry is getting bolder, if not smarter.

Near a farm I came upon another horse-and-cart, but this time its owner was very much alive. But if a person can be said to be unhinged, then this fellow had his door removed completely.

The little Imperial was dressed as a jester and introduced himself as 'Cicero'. Cicero had a very odd way of speaking: sort of singing, sort of whining, and somewhat poetic. I was able to understand that the cart belonged to him and that it was carrying the casket of his dead mother whom he hoped to re-bury (I assume) somewhere in Skyrim. But the wagon wheel had broken and he was unable to fix it himself.

Fortunately he had broken down right in front of a farm, but he said the farmer there was not willing to help him repair the wagon and the guardsman who was patrolling the road had not been any more helpful. I offered to speak with the farmer on his behalf and he did a little dance in front of me and offered bags of gold if I succeeded.

The farmer, Vantus Loreius, watched me warily as I walked up from the road and spoke first, telling me that there was no way he was getting involved with the strange man's wagon trouble. I pointed out that the quickest way to get rid of him was to fix the wagon, but he countered with the idea of going to the guard and having the man arrested. But then his wife spoke up and chided Vantus for not being "neighborly" and helping someone in need. With that his defenses collapsed and he sheepishly asked me to tell "that little Imperial" that he would be by shortly with tools to repair the wagon. My reward was another dance and three pouches of coins. I had no reason to wait to see the wagon fixed, so I wished Cicero and his late mother luck and continued on to Winterhold.

While on my way through the pass between Whiterun and Winterhold I found a horse standing placidly next to the body of what was probably a bandit.

Judging by the angle of the woman's broken neck she had been thrown from the horse and struck the frozen soil with her head, hopefully killing her instantly. If that were the case the horse did not seem bothered by it

It has only been a few hundred years since I have last ridden a horse, but the skill came back to me rather quickly...which was the only thing quick about the ride. I vaguely remember the horses of Cyrodiil being fast, but I could have ran faster than this horse galloped. It was considerably more sure-footed on the snow and ice than a quicker horse, so it did end up being worth the jostling I received, even if it had killed its former rider.

When I arrived back at Winterhold I sold the horse to a lucky guardsman for ten Septims and walked across the precarious-looking bridge to the College. Tolfdir and Savos had somehow managed to transport our treasure from Saarthal to Winterhold and while the image of them rolling the giant metal sphere across the snow and ice is amusing, they must have teleported it into the hall.

The ever gruff Urag gro-Shub was rather gracious in the acceptance of the missing volumes and presented me a gift of six much more common books, each a lesson in the use of a particular school of magic. He then suggested that I seek out Tolfdir to receive my next assignment pertaining to the College's new hall centerpiece and asked me to bring Tolfdir the 'Night of Tears', though having read it myself I could not see what help it would be.

Ancano chose that moment to make his entrance by striding into the Hall and politely insisting that Tolfdir find somewhere else to be. Tolfdir did not take the interruption likely, as he had just begun what I am beginning to understand is his favorite activity: lecturing. He left with the promise to issue a complain to the Thalmor Embassy and then it was just Ancano and I alone in the Hall with the giant, levitating ball.

Ancano only wanted to tell me that a visitor had arrived at the College and was waiting for me in the Arch-Mage's quarters, not an announcement I felt Tolfdir had to be dismissed over. I had little choice but to follow him upstairs to speak with whomever this was.

I should have known: the "visitor" was another Psijic mage. As soon as I opened my mouth to ask what his Order needed now the world froze and turned white.

I was still able to ask my question, but received far more of an answer than I had wanted. According to the mage, the artifact hovering in the College's Hall was known as the "Eye of Magnus", an artifact said to have been created by Magnus, the God of Magic. The mage said disaster was now unavoidable due to events that had already transpired, so naturally I asked him what was expected of me before an inevitable disaster. His response was one I might have received hundreds of years ago: do your best to contain it. He suggested that I speak with someone or something called the 'Augur of Dunlain' who would know more about what I needed to do.

With that the world regained its color and the mage excused himself to a very confused Arch-Mage and Thalmor. Ancano demanded to know what had happened, but he was in the Arch-Mage's personal residence and was asked, politely of course, to leave.

But when I asked Savos about the Augue he was only able to point me back to Tolfdir, so feeling a little silly I went back to the Hall where Tolfdir had been kicked out moments before.

Tolfdir knew of the Augur and offhandedly commented that he used to be a student at the College before his studies and experimentation went disastrously wrong and he became what he is today. I felt that sort of personal history deserved a bit more detail, but Tolfdir was not able to provide much more. His name long forgotten, the former student now went by the title of 'Augur of Dunlain' and resided, for lack of a better word, in the College midden accessible via a trapdoor in the courtyard.

The midden was half storage area, half illicit training ground. Skeletons raised and fallen by students littered the entire area as well as Draugr that students had lost control over. I also had to contend with more more natural predators in the form of giant spiders which were occupying a corner of the midden.

There was evidence scattered about the whole area that pointed towards generations of College students having retreated to the midden to further their own research, some of the evidence looking unfortunately violent. Some of the evidence was very interesting though, one being a magical "forge" of some sort that a nearby journal claimed could take several items and turn them into an Atronach.

The journal did warn that the Atronachs would not arrive loyal, so I fail to see the usefulness of such a tool, elegantly designed though it might be.

The only other item of deceitful interest was an obsidian altar which terminated in a gauntlet that appeared to be reaching for something. Again, a nearby journal explained what I was looking at. It began by declaring that the "missing students" had been found dead around the altar, their wounds being consistent with something the author called "conjurer's burn", a phrase apparently describing burns to the hands and arms. The author, an instructor at the time, removed four rings from the gauntlet's fingers and stored them at the College while they awaited examination from a master of Conjuration magics. Something to keep in mind for the future, perhaps.

I found the Augur in a little room of his (its?) own, hovering above a pool of what appeared to be oil.

Whatever he was now the Augur was surprisingly open and helpful about my problem. Right away he warned me that Arcano had already come down to the Midden to speak with him about the Eye of Magnus and that his interest would lead to his death and disaster for the College. 

Despite his incorporeal and presumably immortal form the Augur of Dunlain seemed to lean towards helping the College over the interests of the Thalmor. He instructed me to return to Savos and tell the Arch-Mage that Magnus's staff was required to harness, or perhaps just contain, the power within the Eye of Magnus. Without it, as Arcano is, usage of the Eye could destroy the College or worse.

Having said that, he withdrew into his pool of oil, leaving me with no time to ask any further questions. I made my way back out of the midden via a short passageway which deposited me on the shore, about one hundred feet beneath where I wanted to be.

I was not as fortunate during this walk as I have been recently. The weather cleared up as I made my way up the shoreline, but I was attacked by three black dogs that each had glowing red eyes and over-sized fangs occupying a distended mouth. Fearsome though they looked, they were still just dogs and I claimed a beaten silver collar from each one of them. I do wonder where they came from to have collars on.

The only other encounter I had was with a goat who trotted along with me as we passed the as-yet not-visited Shrine of Azura.

I went immediately to the Arch-Mage's quarters when I finally arrived back at the College, but he was not there despite it being several hours past midnight. Instead I found him in the Hall pondering the Eye of Magnus. I told him we needed to find the Staff of Magnus and once again was told to speak with Mirabelle. By this time some of the early risers were waking up for breakfast, so I shall only be getting an hour or two of sleep.

No rest for the weary.

Oblivion Day 23 - The Mythic Dawn

19 Heartfire, 3E433

Imperial City, Arcane University

~~~

My morning ride from Bruma to the Imperial City should have been my victory march, but naturally an Oblivion Gate had opened right next to the road during the night.

They are getting more dangerous to venture into since the past couple of days. Whereas I used to be able to step through a gate confident of facing nothing worse than a bunch of irritated Scamps, I now have to contend with far more Dremora than before as well as Clannfear daedra. I have yet to have an encounter that I have had to flee from, but I must ensure my skills improve alongside the Gates' garrisons.

Of particular note is a steel breastplate I found in the Gate's tower. It is enchanted with a minor shield spell that will protect the wearer from the blows of ordinary weapons, though I cannot tell how much protection the breastplate has upon it. Whatever it is, armor enchanted as such is very rare and valuable and I considered it a welcome burden to strap the thing against my back as I wobbled through the rest of the Oblivion Plane.

Anticipating such a delay, I left Bruma very early in the morning and arrived back at the Imperial City just as it was beginning to rise from its slumber.

My entry into the University was an anti-climatic affair. After days of riding to and fro seeking all the recommendations, all I got was a key, a half-hearted congratulations, and an inquiry as to whether I was seeking to perform more duties for the Mages Guild. I am not. I performed the tasks requested of me so that I could find out what the stones are and I have already accomplished that.

Though not on my own. An Argonian mage named Tar-Meena is something of an expert on all things Daedric and identified the stones as Sigil Stones, powerful containers of magicka that bind the Oblivion pocket planes together. As I remove them, the planes and their gates collaspe, but the magicka still remains. Each stone can be coaxed to to lend its power to a piece of equipment, whether it be weapon or armor, but the resulting enchantment will not be of my choice. Should I have any free time in the future I will be sure to experiment with them.

While I was examining the stones a mage came up to me to let me know a courier was waiting on the public side of the University with a message for me. The message was quite short: "Go to Luther Broad's Boarding House and order a drink."

I was not surprised to see Baurus also sitting at the bar. I sat down and ordered my drink and he hissed at me to sit down and not say anything...which I was not anyway. He said that he was going to go to the basement in a moment and that the man in the corner reading a book would follow him. I was to follow the man and see what he does. Once the man disappeared behind the basement door I sneaked behind him, certain of what would happen next.

Predictably the man drew a dagger once he thought he was alone with Baurus. I can only imagine his surprise to find the blade of my short sword protruding from the front of his chest. On his body was a book titled 'Mythic Dawn Commentaries, Volume I'. Baurus confirmed that the man was an assassin from the Mythic Dawn, a Mehrunes Dagon cult. This tied in very neatly with my forays into Oblivion, so I had no doubt that he was correct in everything he said. My next move was to go back to Tar-Meena and speak to her about the Mythic Dawn.

She was able to give me a little history on the secretive cult, including the name of its founder, Mankar Camoran, for what little good that did me. He was also the original author of the cult's four volumes of  'Commentaries', which Tar-Meena suspected contained clues as to how to contact the cult. Those who could decipher the 'Commentaries' successfully to find the cult would have then proven themselves at least somewhat intelligent. But that would only be possible if someone had all four volumes. I had one, but Tar-Meena lent me the second volume from the University's library and suggested I visit the 'First Edition' about the third and fourth volumes.

Phintias at the 'First Edition' is easily the most uptight Redguard I have ever dealt with, but he did have a copy of the third volume which was already paid for by someone else. I was able to persuade him to part with it nonetheless, then patiently waited in his store for the interested party to arrive. I was expecting a would-be cultist, but I received a scholar instead. When I confronted him about his interest in the cult and their part in the Emperor's murder he caved and swore he did not know they had committed such a crime.

He revealed that the cult had contacted him via a letter and set up a meeting, likely to induct him into the cult...or kill him, I suppose. The letter told him to go to a location in the city's sewers where a table and chair were waiting. With this information and books in hand I returned to Baurus.

The Blades frequented the sewers as a clandestine way of moving about the city and Baurus was familiar with the table and chair in question, having always wondered who had put them there and why. We made our way through the sewers, fighting off the occasional goblin or rat until he stopped and directed me up a stairway, where, according to him, I would be able to see and hear everything that occurred between him and the Mythic Dawn representative.

This was not a meeting, but an ambush. As I listened to the representative drone on about the glories of Mehrunes Dagon, two more Mythic Dawn cultists crept up the stairs right in front of me, apparently unaware that I was watching them. I charged just as they opened the gate separating us, heaving one of them off our platform and into the meeting below, ending it rather suddenly. The remaining cultist in front of me cast a spell that armored him in the same equipment I saw during the Emperor's murder, but he was not skilled in its use. While Baurus finished gutting his cultist, I slashed mine across the throat, sending him tumbling down into the room below. On Baurus's contact we found the fourth volume of the 'Commentaries'.

Having acquired all four books, Baurus felt that I could handle things from there, declaring that his place was at Martin Septim's side. I continued along the sewers, mysteriously ascending a ladder into someone's basement. Fortunately, no one was home and I slipped out with no one the wiser.

Tar-Meena would both be interested and helpful in deciphering whatever mystery lay within the books, so I brought the volumes to her and she agreed to study them, asking that I come back tomorrow to discuss anything she might have found. This was acceptable by me, for it was already late in the evening and I was too tired to put my own mind to the books. Hopefully she will have something for me tomorrow, else I am sure I can figure out whatever lies within the books, for the cultists I have fought so far have not demonstrated a great deal of intelligence.

Morrowind Day 23 - No Place to Rest Your Head

7 Hearthfire
~~~

The morning started the same they always seems to: wake up, eat a quick breakfast, and start off on my journey to where ever I am going. My travel pack was close to bursting though, so my first stops were at the merchants of Ald'Ruhn. I sold off a good quantity of supplies I had previously thought to be required, but had not used them since, so away they went.

While bartering with them, several of the merchants asked if I was looking to earn some coin on the side. I had rebuffed the first and second, but after Bivale asked me, I mentioned that two other merchants had asked similar of me. She sighed and revealed that a rich, young nobleman had purchased many fine goods after the death of his family, but was now late in paying the Ald'Ruhn merchants. The coins Bivale offered was to have me act as a go-between for the merchants and the young man in an effort to either collect the payment owed or retrieve and return the merchandise. 

Bivale did give me a good amount of money for my own wares yesterday, so I agreed to help. I must admit the possibility of getting in good relations with several merchants through such a simple task was also a factor. She gave me a list of individuals whom she knew was owned money by the nobleman, a Ienas Sarandas. 

Rather than talk to each merchant and likely get the same story, I asked a guard for directions to Ienas's house to speak with him directly. A dejected voice answered my knocking on the door and bade me to enter. I found a young Dunmer bent over his table, the smell of alcohol radiating from him and the empty bottles scattered around his chair. He immediately set upon a spiel of his misfortune and bad luck, ending with the fact of being so poor as to be unable to buy another bottle of drink. 

I had been carrying a flask of Flin with the intention of selling it at some point, but I offered it to the man and he gratefully accepted, complimenting me on my generosity and quality of the vintage. Then he broke down, sobbing about how he ruined his life and squandered his family's money. He had sold off most of his furnishings and all his family heirlooms in an effort to make ends meet, but his desires outpaced his budget and he had little left, save for the simple furnishings in his home and the clothes on his back.

The clothes on his back lasted for all of about five minutes. After confessing to his gambling problem and realizing he had no hope of continuing his present lifestyle, he stripped the offending clothes from his body and asked that I return them with his apologies. As for the man himself, he declared he would start a simpler life and dedicate himself to the Temple. I'm just glad he didn't owe anyone his pants.

My fiendish plan to earn the merchants' goodwill worked perfectly. They were all grateful for the items returned, but also for the change in Ienas, who was actually quite popular around town, which explains the amount of credit he was able to leverage. They thanked me for "saving" him, but he was his own salvation. Himself and a bottle of Flin.

No one in the Ald'Ruhn Mages Guild could tell me anything about the magical portals at the two Dunmer fortresses, so I teleported to Balmora, was immediately propositioned by Ajira in some money-making scheme of hers and compromised by selling her a bunch of potions that I couldn't see myself using soon. But no one in the Balmora guild knew anything either, nor in the Vivec guild, which was surprising. 

With little to do and unwilling to keep bouncing from one guild to another, I made the Walk again between Vivec and Ebonheart in order to report the witch's death to Kaye. He was unusually cordial and seemed glad to see me return, fretting about how difficult the assignments are getting. I hadn't the heart to tell him how quickly the witch was taken care of and he handed me a simple ring that would enable me to shoot flames from my fingers. This would undoubtedly burn the fur right off my hands and I'll be selling it as soon as I can.

For my next job, Kaye has tasked me with tracking down an Imperial Cult possession: The Silver Staff of Shaming. An Imperial Cultist, Linus Iulus, disappeared some years ago near Molag Mar with one of the staffs of Shame. The Imperial Cult Oracle had a vision of the staff and now needs it retrieved. According to Kaye, the Oracle was responsible for sending Linus out to Molag Mar to execute a traitor, but the man never returned and the Oracle has been feeling guilty about his apparent demise. 

Unfortunately, her guilt is clouding her crystal ball (or whatever she uses) and Kaye could only tell me that the staff was either to the west or east of the Mount of Fear, another name for Mount Kand. Kaye apologetically gave me a ring to help detect enchanted items and wished me luck.

I know I swore not to take boats anymore, but I wound up sailing out of Ebonheart to Tel Branora, which I skipped visiting, sailing immediately to Molag Mar, which I arrived at late in the evening. The  entire outpost is built exactly like a Vivec canton, only without a roof on the top level. The local tavern, Saint Veloth's Hostel, offers no accommodations at all. It is assumed that if you're at Molag Mar, it's either at the service of the Temple or for a pilgrimage and that such services will be found with them. 

As I neither work for the Temple nor am on a pilgrimage, I paid ten Septims to sleep on the boat. Ah, the simple joys of adventuring.