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