In the Mood for Lox (Revised)

(A revision of http://illfatedscrolls.blogspot.com/2012/02/in-mood-for-lox.html)

          I was assigned to stand guard at the main gate today. At around noon, I felt the oppressing sun, filtered through the holes in my chainmail, pressing against the back of my neck. It must’ve triggered something. A strange inclination took over me. I suddenly had the urge to eat some lox. I suddenly craved lox as if I was a vampire craving for blood.

          I felt as if I was under a spell. Could someone have casted an Illusion spell on me while I was unaware? It was almost like a state of sleep paralysis. My body moved perfectly, driven by an overwhelming epicurean crave for lox, a desire to gnaw a salmon down to its bones and sinews.

I couldn’t resist it. I faintly remember leaving my post, and walking over to Anoriath at the market. Images of salmon, swimming in the cold streams, flashed before me. I saw salmon jumping and pushing against the relentless stream. But when I got to the marketplace, I had already forgotten why I was there. So, I stood in front of Anoriath’s stall for a while, staring at those lox without saying anything. He spoke. But I could hear no words.

I told Dora and Fiona what happened to me when I returned. Dora, Divines bless her, immediately went to find Anoriath, the hunter and meat merchant at the market. It was already dark, so Anoriath closed the stall and was heading home. Somehow, Dora still managed to buy some lox from him. We had lox for dinner, a lot of it in fact. I couldn’t finish my portion, and had three pieces left.

Fiona enjoyed it through. She downed the about five pieces. If she had a craving like that every day, I don’t know how I would feed her. She’s growing up real fast.

11^th of Last Seed.

Stabbing and Burning (Revised)

(A revision of http://illfatedscrolls.blogspot.com/2012/02/stabbing-and-burning.html)

          Irileth is on to me. The woman is more thorough than a Whiterun guard on late night patrol. That was a joke, by the way. But seriously, she’s very thorough. Everyone knows Darien and I were the first to discover the body. She doesn’t just stop there. She wanted to know who saw the body first, if either of us touched the body, and who stayed at the scene and who called for backup, and why. Since Darien and I didn’t even discuss these things, I don’t know what he answered.

Darien was called in for questioning before me. He was told to wait outside for my interview to be over. After mine was done, Irileth told Darien and I to come with her to the Hall of the Dead, where Adriane’s body is.

          When we arrived, Irileth told the priest to open Adriane’s coffin. The priest refused at first, but it didn’t take long for him to submit to an angry dark elf investigating a murder case. A foul stench emerged from the coffin when the priest opened it. Adriane’s body is still charred as when we left it.

Looking at the body today was completely different than looking at it a few days ago. I was able to notice a lot more, not panicking and having Illusion spells casted on me and all. With the three of us looking for any clues, we were sure to find something. And we did. Turns out, there is stab wound on solar plexus of the body. The killer is no amateur. It was the only wound we found on the body, too. That means Adriane died from that one stab.

Irileth went on to check every conceivable organs and body parts. The elf’s meticulous examination revealed another clued. There was also a mark on Adriane’s tongue. It was as if the killer carved out letters on the poor girl’s tongue. He must’ve used a dagger, since the cuts are small. From what we could make out, it was the word “Krex.” Irileth concluded that the burning and cuts happened postmortem. Those features are probably signatures of the killer.

          “Gentleman, it looks like we have an experienced serial killer on our hands here.”

8^th of Last Seed.

Fathers and Daughters (Revised)

(A revision of http://illfatedscrolls.blogspot.com/2012/02/fathers-and-daughters.html)

          Adriane’s death has been all over the city. Rumors are spreading. It’s on the tongue of the innkeeper and the ears of all the guards.

It took me twenty minutes to walk from my home to HQ this morning. Everyone was out in the streets, talking to their neighbors. There were crowds of people gathered in front of Warmaiden. Some of them were there just to gossip. But, most people in Whiterun just wanted to pay respects to Adriane.

Even Farkas, the town idiot showed up. He gave quite a speech, too.

“I remember when I first met Adriane.” He began. “I had an assignment to clear out a cave infested with bears and spriggans. So I went to the Warmaiden to buy a steel hammer. Adriane was standing outside, working the smelter. I asked her if she could make a hammer fitting for a strong man like me. She got to work immediately.” He started to sob. “She even modified the hilt so that it would fit in my hands perfectly.” At this stage, it was more like wailing.

Belethor spoke up after Farkas. “She always saw herself as the second best smith in town. Though, that is not an insult, because Adriane always knew that Eorlund Gray-Mane was the best. The dear girl was so modest…”

          It was good until he started to talk about his General Goods. He went on about how Warmaiden undermined some of his business. Typical Belethor.

Sooner or later, this whole murder will come back to Darien and me. But for now, further investigation into the case has been postponed. Jarl Balgruuf, the mayor of this city, fear that the situation might be too sensitive. He’s right, too. Adriane was the daughter of Proventus Avenicci, the right hand man and advisor to the Jarl. When the guard brought news of the murder to Proventus, he broke into tears right in front of the whole court. Never before, have I seen Proventus in such a state. He collapsed to the floor, pounding on the cold granite of Whiterun and demanding the Nine Divines to return Adriane to him.

Poor Proventus, I can only imagine the pains that he suffers. To imagine losing a daughter is painful enough. I sometimes ask myself what I would do if I lose my dear Fiona. Regardless of how much thought and contemplation, I could never imagine a life without her. A life with my dear Fiona and beautiful Dora was all I wanted fourteen years ago. Before then, I would laugh at the idea of me walking a little girl to school. Now, not a day goes by that I don’t take Fiona to school in the morning, singing the Nordic rhymes, and picking the mountain flowers, along the way. A life with my dear Fiona and beautiful Dora was why I stashed my adventurer’s boots, and put on the working boots fourteen years ago.

4^th of Last Seed

Insecurity

This dragon rumor gets more spectacular by the hour. The line that separates truth from speculation is diminishing.

Helgen is not too far from here. It’s a small imperial fort just south of Whiterun. It’s about a two hour horse ride from here. I’m guessing for a dragon that’s about a two minute flight.

What if the dragon attack actually did happen? Will Whiterun be able to withstand should a dragon decide to indiscriminately rampage the city? Will I be able to protect Dora and Fiona?

18^th of Last Seed

Dragonborn!

         I can’t sleep for some reason. It’s 3AM right now, here in Whiterun.

The city is asleep. There’s only the occasional sound of the guards on night patrol, of the drunkards stumbling home from The Bannered Mane. Maybe it’s just me, but there’s also an occasional feral roar echoing from the distant mountains. Those hermits at the Throat of the Worlds are probably up to no good again.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the dragon rumors…Oh, I forgot. The rumors introduced another piece of the story today. My guard buddies are saying a mysterious person came to Whiterun today. He met with the Jarl and warned him of an impending dragon attack. They say that he is among the prisoners at Helgen when the dragon attacked; that he was scheduled to be executed along with Ulfric. The Jarl took him seriously, too. He met with Farengar, the court wizard and was assigned to retrieve an artifact in some perilous dungeon. Typical.

What is it about prisoners that make them so special, I wonder? The person who helped Martin defeat Dagon Mehrunes in Cyrodiil during the Oblivion Crisis was a prisoner. He was there when Uriel Septim was assassinated, too. And before that, the one who united the Dunmer Noble Houses in Morrowind was also a prisoner. Sometimes, I just don’t understand the Divines that designed this world.

18^th of Last Seed

Midday Reflections

          It is midday right now. I usually write in the evenings, but there are a lot of things happening right now.

          I don’t have anything better to do anyway. My arm is still frail like a dry twig. It’s going to take a sometime to heal. I can’t swing a sword or lift a barrel. For someone like me, that’s pretty much all I can do to contribute to society. So I might as well use this time to write and reflect.

Rumors of the dragon attack are intensifying. Reminds me of that murder that happened so long ago… Does Whiterun have nothing better to do than to indulge in speculations and half-truths? Everyone innkeeper and his brothers around Skyrim are talking about it.

Fiona still shows no signs of recovery despite all the alchemical treatments. She must’ve consumed over ten potions for the disease by now. Rockjoint usually isn’t that severe. I should know. I’ve contracted Rockjoint all the time back in my days of wandering Tamriel. The reason why Fiona is still struggling to recovery is because of malnutrition. Since I haven’t been able to earn any septims lately, we’ve been eating sparingly at home. A potato for breakfast, cabbage soup for lunch and mudcrab porridge for dinner. For a growing girl like Fiona, that’s simply not enough. She needs her meals and she especially needs it when ill like this. Malnutrition exacerbated the disease. It’s more resilient and harder to treat.

I just don’t know what to do anymore…

          18^th of Last Seed.

Skyrim My Home

          Fiona is finally as sleep. It is 2AM right now. I forgot to mention one thing. The rest of the day was uneventful. I couldn’t do anything but think of Fiona. Although, there’s some strange rumors traveling around Skyrim.

You see, there’s been a civil war going on in Skyrim for some time now. The Imperials are fighting the Stormcloak rebellion. The leader of the rebellion, Ulfric Stormcloak, was captured recently. He was scheduled to be executed in Helgen today. Everyone thought this is the end of the war.

          But apparently, Ulfric escaped from his execution today. People are claiming that dragons appeared at his execution. Dragons. Yes, Dragons. That’s the rumor, anyway. A dragon swooped in, killed almost everyone and burned down Helgen.

          If you ask me, there are two possibilities. Neither of them includes dragons. One, Ulfric got away because the Imperial guards were too incompetent in keeping an eye on him. So, the Imperial cooked up this story to save face. Two, the Imperials don’t want Ulfric to die yet. If Ulfric is dead, the Imperial would have no more excuse to overreach their authority into Skyrim. They’ll be forced to withdraw military presence from Skyrim. Sure, Skyrim is under the jurisdiction of the Empire. But, the Empire is more concerned with rebellions than whether or not Nords can pray to a certain dead man…

          Ugh. Even talking about this exhausts me. I usually don’t follow politics of the land. I’ve seen enough men rise and fall in my adventuring days. The stories of kings and lords are no more different than the ones of beggars and plebeians.

          17^th of Last Seed.

The Diagnosis

          Fiona couldn’t even get up this morning. She struggled just to lift her hands. She’s gotten even worse. Her stomach has been acting up a lot more frequently.

At this stage, it’s not just a fever anymore. Fiona must have contracted a disease. So, I asked Arcadia to come over for a diagnosis. The symptoms were reduced dexterity of the hand and stiffening of the arms. Fiona is suffering from rockjoint, Arcadia concluded. It’s a disease that is common among people bitten by wolves. This proved my suspicions. The disease was transmitted through the food. The deer we ate was bitten by a wolf.

Arcadia administered a potion of cure disease to Fiona. She said I can pay her for the potion later, once I find a job and all…

I’ll conclude here for today. I need to tend to Fiona.

          17^th of Last Seed.

Sick and Wounded

          Things are not going well. I thought being discharged from the force was the best thing that happened to me. I never thought that Dora and Fiona would be the ones bearing the burden.

          My daughter, Fiona, shows no signs of recovery from her illness. She stayed home for the day again. When I saw her in the morning, she looked even more drained and feeble than yesterday. She could barely move when I saw her this morning. I went to kiss her goodbye before going out to look for work. When she saw me, she summoned all her strength just to sit up. So I gave her the rest of the health potion from yesterday and left her to rest.

          Once again, I couldn’t find much work inside Whiterun. Belethor didn’t need me, neither did Arcadia. I ventured out to the plains again, hoping I could find something that could earn me some septims. I thought maybe I could kill a few wolves and sell the pelts; or maybe mine some iron ores to sell to the smith. I couldn’t go very far. The wound from the deer started acting up. I couldn’t mine or hunt anything.

          I returned to Whiterun empty handed at dusk. I didn’t even have enough septims to buy another health potion for Fiona…

          Dora made dinner with the leftover deer from yesterday. But, she didn’t want Fiona to eat it. So, she went out and borrowed some septims from Arcadia to buy Mudcrab soup for Fiona.

          Divines help me…

          16^th of Last Seed.

Ill Fallen

          Fiona was feeling sick all day. And it’s my entire fault.

          She woke up this morning feeling lethargic and barely able to move. She asked if she could stay home for the day. The sweet thing said she doesn’t want to go to school. I, being a complete fool, insisted that she tries to get up because there is an important alchemy test at school today. She looked into my eyes, and only said “Ok, daddy.” So, I went over to Arcadia’s shop and picked up a large health potion. I didn’t even have enough septims for it. But Arcadia, once again, said she’ll put it on my tabs. I had Fiona drink half of the potion when she got out of bed. She looked better, but there was still something wrong with her. A father knows.

          I took her to school as usual. Fiona was quiet the whole way unlike usual though. She just clasped my hand and walked.

          I couldn’t do anything the whole day, thinking of my daughter like that. I went around the city to see if anyone needed an extra hand. Belethor had a few errands for me to run, saying he’ll pay me some septims. He needed someone to restock his inventory, since the guy who usually does it went to Riften to find a potential new supplier. I usually don’t work for someone like Belethor, but I was desperate. I can’t risk being empty handed if Fiona falls ill. So, Belethor had me moving crates of tomato and leek the whole day.

Meanwhile at the school, Fiona’s condition was worsening. At around noon, Dora had to come to school to get Fiona. Dora could not believe that I let Fiona go to school when she was clearly sick. She had Fiona rest up on her bed.

          Fiona kept saying her stomach hurts throughout the night. It must’ve been the deer yesterday. I didn’t even check if the deer had any disease. An adult’s body, like Dora’s or mine, could resist against the disease. But for a child, like Fiona, that’s a different story.

          How could I have neglected this?

          15^th of Last Seed

Out Hunting

          Yet another day went by, I’m still unable to find a job. I tried picking nirnroots for Arcadia again, but managed to only pick up one of them after four hours of scavenging the plains to the West. I knew that would only net me few meager septims, not enough to buy anything. So I started to look for a deer or rabbit for tonight’s dinner.

          I finally found a deer after patrolling the plains for half an hour. I began to feel an adrenaline rush that I haven’t felt for fifteen years. I sprinted towards the deer and landed a blow to its left rear leg. The deer panicked and ran. I was able to catch up to it since it couldn’t run as fast with a wounded leg. I lunged, and delivered another blow to its right leg. The thing knew running away with two wounded legs would only delay the inevitable. So the bastard turned around. Antlers out and in front, he charged at me. It was my life or his. The antlers got me right where the wolves bit me yesterday, knocking my sword out of my hand. So I raised shield and bashed the beast right in the face, stunning it for a few seconds. I picked up my sword when the deer was still stunned. When the deer finally recovered, it was too late. I drove my sword the beast’s face, right between the eyes. It was absolutely glorious.

          With my wounded arm, I couldn’t carry the beast back by myself. So, I asked a traveling merchant to carry it back to Whiterun for me, and I would give him a portion of the deer in return. I decided to keep the nirnroot I picked up earlier and have Dora prepare it with the deer. It’s been a while since I’ve had sautéed deer with nirnroots. The deer tasted so much better than any deer I’ve bought from the meat market. But maybe I’m bias, because I caught it.

14^th of Last Seed

The World Seemed Brighter

          Today is the first day in thirteen years that I did not wake up as a Whiterun guard. And let me tell you, it feels good. The air is crisper, the skies are brighter, the mountain flowers are more colorful the dark elves are fairer and the wood elves are less hairy. Everyone seems so nice.

I tried to earn some money inside the walls, but to no avail. I asked if I could run errand for Hulda the innkeeper or Belethor the general store owner. Neither of them needed an extra hand. Arcadia, from the alchemist store, decided that she would help me. Bless her; the woman has the spirit of Mara. Since her store has been running low on nirnroots, Arcadia asked me to go to the field and gather some for her. She would pay fifteen septim for each.

The nirnroots were a pain to find. Some say that they don’t regrow, but no one knows for sure. After five hours of looking at every lake or pond, I only found two. Not only that, I encountered a few rabid wolves out there. I took three of them on and slayed the bastards, but the last one managed to take a small chunk out of my right arm. After that, I had to go back.

Arcadia paid me thirty septims for the nirnroots.  It was barely enough to buy dinner for Fiona and Dora. I could only get a small rabbit from Anoriath.

Poor Fiona, she was still hungry after dinner. She didn’t say it, but I knew.

13^th of Last Seed.

A Guard No More

          As of today, I have been discharged as a Whiterun guard. Jarl Balgruuf gave the order. To add insult to injury, my craving for lox was the final straw.

I went and talked to Farengar, our court wizard, and asked if he knows anything. He said it must’ve been something I ate, a potion I drank, or a spell I was under. I decided to tell him that someone casted an Illusion spell on me last week, it was a pretty strong spell because I don’t remember anything while under its effects. Farengar concluded that the craving for lox must be some kind of residual effect from the spell. Whoever casted it is no doubt a powerful wizard, because the effect still lingers.

          My conversation with Farengar apparently got out to Irileth, then the Jarl. Needless to say, the jig was up. Now everyone knows I was the one who let Adriane’s murderer escape.

          Dora was surprised when she saw me coming home early. When I told her what happened, she wasn’t ashamed or angry. She only smiled and said that I’ll have more time to spend with her and Fiona now. Since we have just about a hundred septims left, Dora used the leftover lox to make dinner. In all my thirteen years under this roof, dinner had never tasted so good.

12^th of Last Seed.

Closing the Case

          The Jarl needs a scapegoat for Adriane’s murder. He needs to calm down Proventius as much as he needs to stabilize Whiterun. Unfortunately for him, even Irileth can’t do anything. Fortunately for him, there’s Darien and Faustus.

A careless guard is much less threatening than a mage walking around burning people alive. A careless guard is slightly better than an incompetent guard. Most importantly, a careless guard is less embarrassing than the whole force of Whiterun under the command of Irileth unable to catch an old man with a rusty dagger.

Is this it? Is this how my career as a Whiterun guard comes to an end? I expected something better, something…more exciting. I don’t mind dying a Whiterun guard, as long as Fiona is grown up and well.

11^th of Last Seed.

In the Mood for Lox

          I was assigned to stand guard at the main gate today. At around noon, I felt the oppressing sun, filtered through the holes in my chainmail, pressing against the back of my neck. It must’ve triggered something. A strange inclination took over me. I suddenly had the urge to eat some lox. I suddenly craved lox as if I was a vampire craving for blood.

          I couldn’t resist it. I faintly remember leaving my post, and walking over to Anoriath at the market. Images of salmon, swimming in the cold streams, flashed before me. I saw salmon jumping and pushing against the relentless stream. But when I got to the marketplace, I had already forgotten why I was there.

I told Dora and Fiona what happened to me when I returned. Dora, Divines bless her, immediately went to find Anoriath, the hunter and meat merchant at the market. It was already dark, so Anoriath closed the stall and was heading home. Somehow, Dora still managed to buy some lox from him. We had lox for dinner, a lot of it in fact. I couldn’t finish my portion, and had three pieces left.

Fiona enjoyed it through. She downed the about five pieces. If she had a craving like that every day, I don’t know how I would feed her. She’s growing up real fast.

11^th of Last Seed.

The Elusive Mage

          There hasn’t been any breakthrough in the murder case for two days now. Everyone in Dragonsreach is becoming uneasy that even Irileth can’t make progress.

All Irileth knows right now is what Darien and I told her (even if what we said were inconsistent) and what she deducted from examining the body. During our conversation a few days ago, I described to her the old man I saw that evening, the one in red and black robes. We all know the old man is the culprit, but catching him is another thing. Today, we even checked in with Bjorlam, the carriage driver outside the walls, hoping to find out if our murderer took the carriage to escape. Bjorlam stated that he saw a suspicious man leaving the city that night. The old man was heading southwest. Irileth went to consult the Jarl afterwards. Regrettably, southwest of Whiterun is insufficient a lead to devote manpower to.

          On the other hand, the two guards who discovered the body is a sufficient lead. Irileth knows that one of us saw the killer that night. She also knows that the killer left using the main gate, which was my post for that evening.

          Divines help me. How will I face Dora and Fiona if the truth finally surface? What do I tell Dora and Fiona if I am discharged from the force?

10^th of Last Seed.

Stabbing and Burning

          Irileth is on to me. The woman is more thorough than a Whiterun guard on late night patrol. That was a joke, by the way. But seriously, she’s very thorough. Everyone knows Darien and I were the first to discover the body. She doesn’t just stop there. She wanted to know who saw the body first, if either of us touched the body, and who stayed at the scene and who called for backup, and why. Since Darien and I didn’t even discuss these things, I don’t know what he said.

Darien was called in for questioning right before me. When it was my turn, he was told to wait outside for my interview to be over. After mine was done, Irileth told Darien and I to come with her to the Hall of the Dead, where Adriane’s body is.

When we arrived, Irileth told the priest to open Adriane’s coffin. The priest refused at first, but it didn’t take long for him to submit to an angry dark elf investigating a murder case. A foul stench emerged from the coffin when the priest opened it. Adriane’s body is still charred as when we left it.

Looking at the body today was completely different than looking at it a few days ago. I was able to notice a lot more, not panicking and having Illusion spells casted on me and all. With the three of us looking for clues, we were sure to find something. And we did. Turns out, there is stab wound on solar plexus of the body. The killer is no amateur. There is also a carving, most likely done by dagger, on the chest. From what we could make out, it was the word “Krex.” Irileth concluded that the burning happened after Adriane died. The killer burned the body to make the flesh softer, so he could write on it. “Krex,” is probably a signature.

          “Gentleman, it looks like we have an experienced serial killer on our hands here.”

8^th of Last Seed.

Denial, Grief...Investigation

          Things are starting to calm down in Whiterun.

Today, Jarl Balgruuf and Proventius finally laid Adrianne to rest. Surprisingly though, Adrianne didn’t get any special treatment, being the daughter of Proventius and all. Like everyone else in Skyrim, she was put into the Hall of the Dead.

Today, the Jarl officially launched an investigation to find out who is responsible for Adrianne’s murder. Proventius wanted the investigation to be flawless. So, Jarl Balgruuf placed Irileth, his personal bodyguard and commander of the Whiterun guards, in charge of the investigation.

Commander Irileth has been with the Whiterun force for years. Irileth is a dark elf, but apparently she and Jarl Balgruuf were war buddies long ago. She’s skilled with a battle-axe as she is with alteration magic, which makes her so good at catching criminals. Just yesterday, Irileth caught a Khajiit thief stealing from the marketplace when she was out for a stroll. She didn’t even break a sweat. If you don’t know, Khajiits are these cat-like creatures with unparalleled agility. They are the fastest runners in Tamriel. Irileth saw the thief running away. She didn’t even chase after the thief. Instead, she stood still, raised her left hand and casted a paralyze spell on the thief.

One time, Irileth dove into a river to save the Jarl Balgruuf. It was an assassination attempt from the Dark Brotherhood. The assassin was close too. He had the Jarl in ropes, and tied to a boulder. The assassin pushed Balgruuf down a river. Then, Irileth charged at the assassin, hacking him to death with her axe. Then, calm and collected as ever, Irileth used Detect Life to see where the Jarl is in the water, casted Waterbreathing on herself, and dove head-first into the water. The Jarl emerged from the incident without a scratch, just merely soaked.

          Now, with Adriane’s murder case, Irileth is already making progress. She made a list of all of the guards on duty the night of the murder. Today, she interviewed most of the guards on that list. From what they said, Irileth narrowed down the exact entrance and exit used by the culprit. Darien and I are on that list. It looks like I’ll get some face time with the commander tomorrow.

7th of Last Seed.

Fiona and Faustus

A lot has happened since I started writing in this scroll.  Not just what happened with the murder, but with me. Somehow, the days seem shorter to me. Late at night, after reading from or writing on the scroll, I feel an immense lethargy in my limbs.

My daughter, Fiona has noticed it, too. At dinner, she told me that she learned about similes in school today. I asked her to give me an example. She took a moment. 

“The lines around your nose are deep and distinct, like trails up a mountain.”

She made another rather unnerving comment when I put her to bed. As usual, I bent over and gave her a kiss. She returned a smile, and asked why my hair is so gray like the skies on a rainy day?

My Fiona never fails to amaze me.
5th of Last Seed.

Fathers and Daughters

          Adriane’s death has been all over the city. Rumors are spreading. It’s on the tongue of the innkeeper and the ears of all the guards. Sooner or later, it will come back to Darien and me. But for now, further investigation into the case has been postponed. Jarl Balgruuf, the mayor of this city, fear that the situation might be too sensitive. He’s right, too. Adriane was the daughter of Proventus Avenicci, the right hand man and advisor to the Jarl. When the guard brought news of the murder to Proventus, he broke into tears right in front of the whole court. Never before, have I seen an advisor to the Jarl in such a state. He collapsed to the floor, pounding on the cold granite of Whiterun and demanding the Nine Divines to return Adriane to him.

Poor Proventus, I can only imagine the pains that he suffers. To imagine losing a daughter is painful enough. I sometimes ask myself what I would do if I lose my dear Fiona. Regardless of how much thought and contemplation, I could never imagine a life without her. A life with my dear Fiona and beautiful Dora was all I wanted fourteen years ago. Before then, I would laugh at the idea of me walking a little girl to school. Now, not a day goes by that I don’t take Fiona to school in the morning, singing the Nordic rhymes, and picking the mountain flowers, along the way. A life with my dear Fiona and beautiful Dora was why I stashed my adventurer’s boots, and put on the working boots fourteen years ago.

4^th of Last Seed

Murder in Whiterun

          I didn’t know what to expect coming to work today. I knew it was my entire fault that Adrianne’s killer got away. Darien, Divines bless him, said that he would keep my secret. Our assignment for the day was to partner up and patrol the city’s outskirts. As soon as we were alone, he started to explain what had happened. As far as I can remember, he seemed to be telling the truth.

          Last night, I was assigned to guard the main gates on the inside. At around 10PM, a scream emerged from the Warmaiden, Whiterun’s best shop for weapons and armors. I immediately rushed over to investigate. Inside the shop, a man was standing over Adriane, who was on the floor. He had on a black and red robe. On the robe, there was a symbol of a hand. He had only dagger in his right hand and a glowing bright orange light in his left. From that, I gathered that he was a mage. He seemed calm and collected, even after taking a life and on the brink of being arrested. Surely, he knew what he was doing.

          Just as any other guards would do, I shouted at him “Stop right there, criminal scum!”

          This is where it began to get fuzzy. I only remember the man raising his left hand, this time with a lime and transparent light. “Calm down, boy” he said.

          Apparently, this was where Darien came in. He was on patrol through the city. Darien saw that I was missing from my post. So he looked around and saw an old man leaving the shop. Nothing about the man indicated a murderer. He was still calm, walking towards the gate. Darien was only suspicious because of the man’s dagger. The dagger was neither sharp nor lethal. Instead, it had a brown and rough texture. Why would a man leave a blacksmith’s house with a dull blade?

          Darien entered the shop. He found me standing over Adrianne’s body. Just standing, and doing nothing, he assured me upon scrutiny. Adrianne was on the floor. Her body was charred beyond recognition. This could’ve been done only by the fire of a mage.

          The next thing I can recall is Darien shaking me violently. “What in Oblivion are you doing, Faustus?” he panicked. Both of us realized what has happened. Darien knew what would happen to me if the truth is leaked. He told me run and alert the Captain and say that he was the one who found the body.

3^rd of Last Seed, 4E 201

Stage Two: Great Strife

          Divines help me. Please. I don’t know what just happened. Is Darien right? How could I let that criminal go? How could I just stand there and let a murderer walk free after taking a life? Akatosh, help me. Hermaeus Mora, the lord of knowledge and memory, help me. I don’t know what happened.

All I do know is that Adrianne is dead. Adrianne Avennici, daughter of the advisor to the Jarl, is dead. And I, Faustus, was the one who let her killer go free…

3^rd of Last Seed, 4E 201

The Prince, Hermaeus Mora

            Greetings, mortal. I am Hermaeus Mora.

            In his last recording, our dear hero Faustus explained to you about the scroll. The scroll, he believed, would grant him that which he yearns for. It is true.

            Faustus Lachance is a good man. However, bad things often happen to good people. This is the way it is, and the way it has been.

            Faustus is not a fool. Nor is he wise enough to know how the scroll was created.

Long ago, I, Hermaeus Mora, gave the scroll to the Dwemers. They were a race of people who take pride in knowledge. They lived in the most advanced civilizations ever known to mankind. Among their achievements, the Dwemers discovered how to extract elements from plants, manipulate the forces around them, and even animate machines.

However, their unceasing quest for knowledge defined their existence. It occupied the Dwemers’ lives more than their own family, the people whom they surround themselves with every day. The Dwemers were always yearning to know more about alchemy, magic, machinations, and even the Elder Scroll itself.

The Dwemers, for all their knowledge of their surrounding world, was ignorant of themselves. They were a race of shrewd and cold people. They lived in close proximity with each other in large mechanized cities. Yet, the desert of emotions between them was vast, and the solitude they endured was immense. Fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, brothers and sisters were distant to one another.

            The condition of the Dwemers prompted me to create the scrolls. It is as Faustus said. The scroll alters the fate of its bearer, and requires the bearers to record their events. As for what it grants and does not grant, that is what Faustus does not know. The scroll, when it was given to the Dwemers, altered the lives of its bearers. It forced the bearers to confront great strife and conflicts. It brought to the forefront, and tested the bonds between fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, brothers and sisters. It was not my intention, nor am I proud of this. But the scrolls brought the end of the Dwemers.

Only upon the destruction of their civilization, the Dwemers realized what was important. It was not the schematics, compasses, or sextants that they tried to save in their final hours. It was their fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, brother and sisters that they embraced and held dear.

            Faustus, I fear, desires more than what he currently possess. Like the Dwemers, his fate will be altered; and strife, he will know.

A Visit From the Prince

          Hermaeus Mora came to me. Hermaeus Mora actually came to me.

          Ok. Let me explain. I had a dream last night, after Dora and I argued over chopping the firewood. In the dream, I was doing my usual rounds during a late night shift. I had to patrol the perimeter around the marketplace. Then suddenly, a body of darkness, like a gate into the abyss, appeared before me. I thought the darkness would pull me in; I thought I was going to die for sure. But then a voice came, from the body of darkness.

          “Hello again, Faustus.” It spoke to me. “I am Hermaeus Mora, the daedric prince of knowledge and memory. But, I’m sure you already know that.”

          At that point, I thought he was coming to reclaim the scroll. But as you can see by the fact that I’m still writing, that was not his intention at all. Instead, he wanted me to continue writing. He wanted me keep recording these events. After all, the attic of a common guard’s house is hardly a fitting place for a daedric artifact of that power.

          Hermaeus went on to explain the power of the scroll, to make sure that I use it to its full potential. The scroll is powerful indeed, from what he claimed. Apparently, it has the power to alter fate and grant the bearer that which he desires most: wealth, knowledge, meaning, and so on. The scroll does this with one condition: that the bearer record how it happens. It demands the bearer to write in it the events of his life. This is so that others can see and fulfill their own desires.

You see, there’s more than one scroll in existence. In fact, there are over twenty, but each in a different place and a different time. Hermaeus Mora created these scrolls a long time ago, to teach mankind about themselves, for that is the knowledge that is worth knowing above all: to know thyself.

The scroll not only allows the bearer to write on it, but also reveals the stories of others. And so, every time the bearer opens it, he or she, can see, hear, or watch someone else’s story. When it is blank, it is thus the bearer’s turn to write. The scroll, which might not be even a scroll at all, manifests itself in different forms. So far, after already seeing the stories of my fellow writers, it looks like Hermeus Mora’s artifact is referred to as a “computer” in a different time and place.

          I must conclude for now. It is now morning here in Whiterun. I rushed to write this after waking up. My shift starts shortly, and I must tell Darien of this news.

2^nd of Last Seed, 4E 201

Feodora and Faustus

          Feodora and I were at it again. She wanted me to chop enough wood for the next five days, in case a storm comes. There have been signs of a big storm coming, she said. Dark clouds are approaching us from the east and the air is becoming moist by the day. But chopping five days’ worth of firewood, that’s easier said than done. After all, she’s not the one guarding the city all day. She’s not the want who chased down a thief stealing from Arcadia’s alchemy shop, stopped a rampaging bear near stables outside the walls, or stood at the gates for six hours. So I told her I’ll do it tomorrow. Just like that, she summoned the wrath of Ysgramor on me. I had to get little Fiona out of the room and put her to bed. I swear, Feodora was so loud that even the monks at temple heard us.

Oh Feodora, my love, how did we come to this?

1^st of Last Seed, 4E 201.

Stage One: Yearning

       Hello? Hello. Can anyone see this? By the Divines, this thing actually works. If anyone is reading this, you are reading the words of Faustus Lachance. Also, if you are reading this, I assume that you, too, possess a scroll of your own. I found mine after a little bit of ransacking the attic last night. This is one among the many treasures I have accumulated over the years of my adventuring. However, all of that are only relics of a forgotten past. Now, I’m just a lowly guard in Whiterun, dealing with petty thieves and drunken brawls. It’s been a while since we even had a good bandit raid. Part of me wants to go back to that chapter of my life. I conquered Ayleid ruins, cleansed bandit hideouts, stared feral beasts in the eye then proceeded to mutilate them. Most important of all, I stood before Hermeus Mora himself and received this very scroll.

And yet, part of me wants to remain as I am. As I am… I am Faustus Lachance, a guard in the city of Whiterun, in the province of Skyrim. I chose to settle in Whiterun because of the city’s history. Legends say that long ago, when dragons existed, Whiterun was built to trap a dragon. I thought, hey, maybe someday, I’ll live to witness a dragon in captivity. Other than the legends, Whiterun is a city among many others in Skyrim. To the west, a great plain serves as home to wild beasts, mammoths, and giants. To the East, the tallest mountain in Skyrim stands. Its peak, the Throat of the World is a constant reminder of how insignificant we are.

I have been a guard here in Whiterun for thirteen years. I’m still where I was thirteen years ago; still a lowly guard, no promotions, no recognitions. All I have are anecdotes of times when Farkas has had too much mead. Thirteen years in uniform can do many things to a man. To me, it drained the life out of me more than a vampire ever could. It reduces my care to having enough septims to buy the next meal…

But, I feel a change coming. If this scroll has the power Hermeus Mora promised…I will live again…


31st of Sun's Height, 4E 201.