11 Heartfire, 3E433
Bravil
~~~
I was already awake when Arielle slid into my room several hours later. I was already pretending to be a merchant, so my role in her plan was to act as bait. At my own discretion, I was to leave the inn and continue to travel along the Gold Road heading east into the area where the bodies have been found. With luck, I would serve as a tempting target and the murderer would be flushed out of hiding. Arielle and her battle-mages would be following me discreetly, ready to leap out as soon as the murderer made his move against me. I concurred with the plan and left the Inn after midnight, trusting my Khajiit eyes to give me early warning of any attack.
The murderer revealed herself to be none other than my fellow inn-mate, the Altmer Caminalda. She gave no reason for her wanton hostility and said little other than that my time had come. Very uninspired. As it turned out, neither myself nor Arielle and her battle-mages were required. Caminalda's oratory was matched by her environmental awareness and she launched her attack upon me just as a Legionnaire turned the corner of the road on his horse. A blow from the man's long blade nearly cleaved the woman in two as she concentrated on a spell.
Arielle asked me to return to the Guild while she and her people cleared the road of the Altmer's remains. Having left so early in the morning, everyone was still asleep when I arrived at the guildhouse, so I idly experimented with some of my alchemy ingredients to pass the time. When Carahil came down for breakfast I reported her fellow Altmer's death and my recommendation from her was assured. I set off for Bravil after a hearty breakfast, though it was obvious I was still an outsider there, recommendation or no.
While enroute to Bravil I came upon an Oblivion gate close enough to the road that Scamps were actively tearing the path's cobblestones out of it. After clearing the area of Scamps, I secured my horse and stepped back into Oblivion. Fortunately where I ended up was a place I have been before and I stole another Stone from Oblivion effortlessly, even with the rather welcome addition of more Dremora than usual. I left the smolder wreck of the gate behind as it began to rain, quenching what little fire remained of it.
Bravil is an ugly, poor town, the houses are little more than shacks and the residents little more than beggars. They all have a desperate, haggard appearance, as if there was some secret way out of the town that everyone was looking for. The town universally smells like a latrine, as they use the sluggish canal winding through the town as one, as well as for bathing and washing. It is a rather archaic way of living and I cannot think of a reason why Count Regulus does not seek to improve his squalid city.
As soon as I stepped inside the gates I was approached by a woman named Ursanne who had been looking for anyone to help find her missing husband. The man had borrowed from a notorious lender of money and she feared his final location was somewhere underneath the waters of the canal. Still, she had hope that he lived and that someone could re-unite them and this hope is what drove her to approach a richly dressed, armed Khajiit who had just walked into her town.
Despite my misgivings of the town itself, I felt I could spare the time to help the woman and agreed to look into her husband's disappearance as soon as my own business had been attended to. She thanked me profusely and gave me the location of her shack so that I might return him to her once I was able.
But the trip from Anvil to Bravil had been a long one and the Oblivion gate also ate into the day quite well. When I finally was able to distinguish the town's Inn from the rest of the shacks, it was deep into the evening and I had no energy to either look for her husband or visit the local Mages Guild. I have rented a very plain room in the 'Silverhome on the Water', an inn whose name is far more extravagant than its furnishings.
I have slept in worse places, the ruined strongholds of the Sixth House certainly being one (or several) of those places. The room is dry, if rough, and I am content enough with that. Tomorrow morning I shall call upon the Guild and see what is required for my recommendation from Bravil. I was told that the Bravil Guild specializes in Illusion spells, so I am eager to see how I can improve my own skill in that school, for it has been a very long time since I have cast much of anything and a Khajiit is always well-served by illusions.
The murderer revealed herself to be none other than my fellow inn-mate, the Altmer Caminalda. She gave no reason for her wanton hostility and said little other than that my time had come. Very uninspired. As it turned out, neither myself nor Arielle and her battle-mages were required. Caminalda's oratory was matched by her environmental awareness and she launched her attack upon me just as a Legionnaire turned the corner of the road on his horse. A blow from the man's long blade nearly cleaved the woman in two as she concentrated on a spell.
While enroute to Bravil I came upon an Oblivion gate close enough to the road that Scamps were actively tearing the path's cobblestones out of it. After clearing the area of Scamps, I secured my horse and stepped back into Oblivion. Fortunately where I ended up was a place I have been before and I stole another Stone from Oblivion effortlessly, even with the rather welcome addition of more Dremora than usual. I left the smolder wreck of the gate behind as it began to rain, quenching what little fire remained of it.
As soon as I stepped inside the gates I was approached by a woman named Ursanne who had been looking for anyone to help find her missing husband. The man had borrowed from a notorious lender of money and she feared his final location was somewhere underneath the waters of the canal. Still, she had hope that he lived and that someone could re-unite them and this hope is what drove her to approach a richly dressed, armed Khajiit who had just walked into her town.
Despite my misgivings of the town itself, I felt I could spare the time to help the woman and agreed to look into her husband's disappearance as soon as my own business had been attended to. She thanked me profusely and gave me the location of her shack so that I might return him to her once I was able.
But the trip from Anvil to Bravil had been a long one and the Oblivion gate also ate into the day quite well. When I finally was able to distinguish the town's Inn from the rest of the shacks, it was deep into the evening and I had no energy to either look for her husband or visit the local Mages Guild. I have rented a very plain room in the 'Silverhome on the Water', an inn whose name is far more extravagant than its furnishings.
No comments:
Post a Comment