I'm gonna shoot through the rest of this ff quick fast, as I want to get back to the books, which many people seemed to enjoy. Please leave me feedback, I'm devoting most of my energies to my Fallout fanfic, so any constructive criticism of my TES writing (my first love) is much appreciated. Particularly on the use of the diary as a framing device, which I think is starting to stretch WSoD at this point...but then our TES heroes update journals in the midst of battle, so...

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?, 3E433, ?
The great Kamal, clearly a leader of some kind, examines me closely, with deep-set black eyes. Able to comprehend my repulsion at my murdered fellow-merfolk, the smiles slightly. He speaks to me, in the deep growl of his people. I cannot comprehend him, but it is clear from his tone that he condescends to me, speaking down to this invader from his lofty station.

?, 3E433, ?
If I am to survive here, I need to communicate with my strange captors. He repeats one word above all others, 'nooskiya'. An accusation, he points his thick, calloused fingers at me with each utterance. It is clear that the word means 'invader', or possibly 'spy'. Perhaps even 'foreigner'. The Dunmer do not take kindly to outlanders in Morrowind. It is very possible, given the state of the crewmen, that these Kamal are of a similar mindset. I reply in measured tones, in my clearest Cyrodiilic, 'peaceful, explorer,' but he does not comprehend.

?, 3E433, ?
What a fool I was. Why would they understand Cyrodiilic? A learned Altmer has more tools of communication at his disposal than just the crude speak of the Imperials. I try varying my dialects, hoping these monsters are familiar with any other languages in Tamriel. I try some pidgin-Ta'Agra, which meets with blank looks. Again, unfamiliarity clouds my thinking, as a moment of clarity strikes me. Aldmeris. The ancestors of all mortal life on Nirn.
"Mer sepredia," I speak carefully, gesturing to myself. "A man of peace."
My host brings a colossal hand to his face, stroking his matted beard. He replies slowly, "Acharyai?", "The first?". "Ne," I reply. "Altmer."
"Av Ehlnofey, Kamal." He responds. "From the first people, Snow Hell." Continuing, he gestures at himself. "Emero av mafre! Alt-mer. Ye adonai av fal! Mathmedli Alt-mer, gandra!" - "Master of frost! High-Elf. And lord of snow! Outsider, gifts!"
I am unsure whether he refers to his mastery of cold as gifts, or expects such from me. Assuming the latter, I reply. "Gandra av magicka. Altmer atadonai av magicka." - "My give is magic. High elves are old masters of magic."
My captor lets forth a mighty and throaty laugh. "Atadonai av magicka, mathmedli? Sa, Tam-riel - latta!" - "Old masters of magic, outsider? So, Tamriel - shine!"
An unusual command. I interpreted it to mean light, illuminate. I cast a simple light spell on myself, to the amazement of my captors, who gasped in wonder. An odd reaction. I thought back to my time in Vvardenfell...for masters of Destruction rarely devoted themselves to any other discipline. It was possible that these Kamal have forgotten the arts of Illusion entirely.
The giant stepped forward, speaking in plain Ehlnofex. "We may have use for you, outsider. If you can prove to us you are not a spy. If you cannot, you will die."
"What do you wish of me?" I replied.

Oh, this is AWESOME !!!! I love your diary entries - not when just anyone does them. I have never seen anyone do with a diary entry what you can! You bring the story totally to life, and depth - WHEW!! I have so missed your writing!

I do love Fallout 3 and want to read your FanFics on there too, I have not been playing Fallout 3 since I started writing the Oblivion FanFic because it pulls from my immersion into the writing; I don't know how you do it Lorca !!!! Awesome write !!!

Thanks Malx, kind words as always! The story continues, right now...

?, 4E433, Snow Hell.
I have determined that I am in the Kingdom of the Kamal, the Snow Hell of Akavir. Through slow communication with their apparent leader, I have also determined that this is not the central province of the Kamal, but an outlying province. The leader refers to himself as a 'Vassal Prince to the God of Frost', presumably the supreme leader of the Kamal. Their society is primitive by Dunmer standards, hierarchical, based on strength in combat. It appears that academia has no place in the ice-halls of these creatures, although it is easy to underestimate them as simple savages. Their architecture is a marvel, intricate patterns hewn from ice and rock, stronger than even the mightiest fortresses of old Volenfell. Their grasp of the arcane is also impressive, although seems to be an instinctive function of their species rather than the result of the study of magicka. Almost comparable to how lesser races can use the powers of the birthsigns, or how a Cyrodiil might appear trained in Illusion, when in fact he is simply using a racial power.

8th Hearthfire, 4E433, Snow Hell.
One of the guards has informed me that 'ten nights have passed' since I was captured. I knew that I had been rendered unconscious for some time, but ten nights? The prince of this place has allowed me a night's rest before I commence my 'duties' for him. If it helps me understand this strange land, I am willing to return to the questing life. This place almost reminds me of my first steps on the soil of Vvardenfell, or my first arrival in Solstheim. Everybody wants something, everybody needs somebody dead. In this regard, Akavir and Tamriel share much in common.

9th Hearthfire, 4E433, Snow Hell.
And so to my quest. The prince of this hall requested that I travel to the south, to the 'Snake Palace'. No doubt he refers to the land of the Tsaesci. The Tsaesci are the race most known to the scholars of Tamriel, following the years of the Akaviri Potentate. The prince wishes me to act as a 'watcher and long knife', what I interpret to mean spy and assassin. I seems that the Kamal have no equivalent to the Morag Tong, or Dark Brotherhood, but rather rely on outsiders to commit the unpleasant necessities of war. My target is apparently a minor noble who resides in the fluctuating borders, one 'Yushuoi-Se', who launches raids against Kamal border villages. I have read the history of Akavir extensively, Mysterious Akavir being the standard - it seems the tome is accurate in regards to the nature of the warring races of this strange continent. I look forward to seeing if the vampire snakes of myth live up to the reality.

9th Hearthfire, 4E433, The coast.
I have bid my strange captors farewell, swearing an oath that I will kill this Tsaesci noble and relay my findings back to the prince. Having been here little more than a week, I find it amusing that I have already been drawn back into politics. Politics backed up by a blade, no less. The prince supplied me with a surprisingly detailed map of eastern Akavir and the Kamal-Tsaesci border. The province that I was in is known as 'Ram-Sung', 'Stone-Halls', a tribute kingdom of the 'Greater Kamal Empire'. The coastal area I arrived in is known as 'Jormun-Gandr', 'Sea-Gate'. The region is dominated by a great forest and coastal city. The city itself, named after the region - or is the region named after the city? - is a most amazing construct, based on the cartography. It appears to be almost a water-borne equivalent of Bosmer Falinesti, the walking-city. It is situated in the sea itself, the wood of the forest keeping it afloat. Arrows pointing north and south indicate that the city can move up and down the coast. Most extraordinary.

Oh, now there is a twist I did not expect, to prove he is not a spy he must become one for them - intricate detail brings the time-frame and settings of the "Mysterious Akavir" to life - AWESOME - As Always, Lorca!!!!! Your depth of knowledge in the Lore is one of the greatest assets of your stories, the rest is your ability to bring them to life in a way no one else can.

I am glad you resumed this. Very interesting!

9th Hearthfire, 4E433, Jormun-Gandr Forest.
In the distance I can see the city of Jormun-Gandr, through the towering snow-topped pines. From the forest it almost resembles the cantons of Vivec, but built from wood rather than stone. Although my quest to kill is foremost on my mind, I cannot deny myself the opportunity to explore this new land. Although since exploration and espionage can be difficult to distinguish from each other, my wanderings could be construed as hostile. Trueflame and Hopesfire both once again hang at my side, ready to strike down any who oppose me.

9th Hearthfire, 4E433, Jormun-Gandr City.
On the Kamal map this place is marked as a settlement, like Ram-Sung. But truly, it is more of a fleet. A navy created not for war, or trade, but as a city on the sea. It still reminds me of Vivec, only more...mobile, more impermanent. Smaller boats carry Kamal back and forth between the larger vessels, themselves tethered to a series of piers jutting out into the cold ocean. But why? Why would they go through the effort of maintaining a fleet rather than simply construct buildings on land? I can see no apparent practical purpose. Perhaps this forest is sacred, building forbidden. Although they seem willing to cut down the trees. This is a strange place indeed.

9th Hearthfire, 4E433, Jormun-Gandr City.
Against my better judgement I approached one of the piers. Naturally, it was under guard. The Kamal here appear smaller than their mountain-dwelling brethren, a maritime cousin perhaps. Regardless, they blocked my entrance. Standing stoically, I attempted my best Kamal. They looked at me, puzzled. The dialect here is also different, lighter than Ram-Sung, more flowing. I could not comprehend their reply. I once again attempted my linguistic trick of speaking Ehlnofex, which again meets with confused looks. I turn to leave, but they gesture me to wait and send one of the guards back to a ship...or building. It seems unclear. At first I assume that they would attempt to capture me. To my surprise, they bring forth a robed figure. Smaller than the guards, and lacking horns, I would speculate that the individual was a female Kamal. It spoke softly to me, in Ehlnofex. A priestess of some kind, she explained that the 'Gateway was shut to outsiders'. I explained that I was a simple traveller, and held favour with the prince of Ram-Sung. She replied that 'Mountain and sea are separate. Outsider and Kamal are separate'. Sensing my efforts would come to naught, I asked one more question to sate my curiosity - why build a city on the sea? She smiled, replying 'We cannot move the storms. But we can move the city.'

9th Hearthfire, 4E433, 'The Coast of Wrecks'.
I have abandoned my efforts to gain access to the floating city. I could, of course, have destroyed the guard and forced my way in. But they seem far more peaceful than their somewhat brutish cousins. I doubt a battle with his kinsmen would have endeared me to the mountain prince, either. I continue south, heading to Tsaesci territory and my mark. The area is marked in Ehlnofex as 'The Coast of Wrecks' on my map, for good reason. All along the rocky shore are scattered shattered remains of Kamal vessels, similar to design as the ones in 'the Gateway'. Presumably from a time before they discovered the treacherous weather patterns of their homeland. Remains of wooden buildings lay overgrown in the forest, battered by ancient storms. A hard land for a hard people.

9th Hearthfire, 4E433, 'The River of Blood'.
After a long march soul I have reached the river which signifies the border between Kamal and Tscaesci territory. It surprises me how soon I reached the border. There must be a great deal of Kamal territory left to north. Given the freezing conditions of Ram-Sung, it is almost inconceivable that anything could exist even further north. But exist it must. The river itself, despite the name, is a pleasant, slowly meandering steam. No doubt in ages past it ran with the lifeblood of Kamal and Tscaesci warriors, earning its grim name. My destination is south east of the border, the fortress of this northern Tscaesci noble who so bothers my former captor.

I am always amazed at how much detail you can squeeze into each journal entry! I am so glad you are writing again, Lorca - you have way too much talent to stop!!! Awesome Write !!!

Hope this doesn't count as thread necromancy...

10th Hearthfire, Tscaesci-Kamal border.
I have arrived at the Tscaesci noble's fortress - although it is more of a tower, reminiscent of the Telvanni mushroom towers in height and form, although appearing far different in construction. It's twisted battlements are rendered in a dull ebony-like substance, a ceramic material of some kind. I have not seen any real counterpart to it in Tamriel, nor can I guess how old it is - it could be thousands of years old, or erected last week, there is no way to tell. I can spy no serpent-men.

10th Hearthfire, Tscaesci Tower.
My mission is one of assassination, so top priority is locating the target. Despite my mastery of Mysticism and casting the most powerful Life Detect spell in my repertoire I can see no signs of life. The Tscaesci were last seen on Tamriel eons ago during the Potentate. In the interceding centuries fact has been tainted by myth and conjecture, speculation and rumour. Some scholars insist that Tscaesci are vampiric in nature, whether from Porphyric Hemophilia like the common vampires of Tamriel, or through some dark magical means like the Ash Vampires of Vvardenfell nobody seems to know. In any case, it is clear that they should not be approached lightly. I have rendered myself invisible, and am approaching the long, thin door which appears to be the only entrance into this magnificent edifice.

10th Hearthfire, inside Tscaesci Tower.
Everything is constructed of this black material, although inside the corridors of tower it appears to be glossed. I can see nothing familiar at all, no tables, chairs or anything that could be called furniture. I have spotted a circular ramp leading to the upper levels, almost like a spiral staircase, but without the stairs.

10th Hearthfire, inside Tscaesci Tower.
I can't climb this ramp, it appears designed purely for Tscaesci use. I simply slip off it. I will levitate instead.

10th Hearthfire, Tscaesci Tower, upper level.
I have spotted a Tscaesci. It is not 'serpent-like', but an upright serpent, supporting its body and moving with its tail. It appeared slightly taller than myself, something I have come to expect of the inhabitants of Akavir. It has spindly arms and long, claw-like fingers. As it turned around to face me, I saw its face, small, jet black eyes set in a frilled face of golden scales, tiny nostrils and a thin slit of a mouth. It is clad in the same black material, broken into scales and seemingly attached to the body of the Tscaesci. Whether this is some advanced form of armour or Tscaesci clothing I cannot say. In a blink it flicked out a thin, split tongue in my direction, before speaking.
"Altmer?" it hissed in the Imperial tongue. It flicked out its tongue again. "Male Altmer. Welcome. You stand in the watchtower of Adeul-Meokda. What is your business here?"
"You speak Cyrodiilic?" I asked, somewhat taken aback.
"Cyrodiilic? My people once rule the men across the ocean," the Tscaesci hissed back. "Of course I speak their tongue. What are you here for? You are a long way from the Aldmeri Dominion."
"I am here to see your master," I replied, ignoring his historical anachronism.
"Master? I am he." the snake nodded.
"I am here to discuss your raids on Kamal land, Meokda. A powerful, and angry, Kamal prince was most insistent that they stop?"
"Raids? What..." Meokda stopped for a minute and flicked his tongue out again. "Arrod-Sharo Dir-Kamal. You were in his presence recently. Yes...I can see why he used a man like you."
"I am a mer, not a man," I replied. "If I must kill you to prevent your raids then I will do so."
"Kill me?" he seemed to emit the Tscaesci equivalent of a laugh. "What a fool you are."
"I have slain gods, Tscaesci, and I understand your race is mortal. Do not try me."
"Gods? Is it...Nerevarine?"
"How do you know that name?"
"Know? Know lots. Lots about Tamriel. Dawn's Beauty, like all you think it is the centre of reality. It isn't even the centre of Nirn. While your empires bicker and fall the nations of the Dragon Land stand strong. Arrod-Sharo, he is a minor Kamal warlord. Like all Kamal he hates Tang-Mo, he also hates Tscaesci. Wants to get rid of me, threat to plans."
"His plans?"
"Plan? To invade Tang-Mo. Kamal always fail."
"I thought the Tscaesci and Tang-Mo hated each other?"
"Hate? Alliances always shift, Altmer. Our plans would stop his."
"And what are your plans?"
"Plans? Alliance between Tscaesci and Kamal, necessary, to face true enemy outside the Dragon Land."
"Outside the Dragon Land?"
"Outside? Tamriel. Kamal excellent ship builders and brute force warriors. Tscaesci excellent strategists and masters of the sword. United, none may stand against us.
"Why are you telling me this."
"Tell? Haven't spoken with member of your race. Hear ancient rumour that your race, and you in particular, master of forces unseen. Honour to test myself in combat and kill you."

With that, he drew two short wazakashi swords, razor sharp and glinting. I drew Trueflame, and cast a bolt of lighting. Even at point blank range, he countered instantly by contorting his body, dodging the bolt.
"Predictable," he commented, lunging forward. His wazakashis lived up to Tscaesci reputation, making a nasty cut in my own armour before I was able to throw him off.
I summoned a Dwemer Centurion to distract him, figuring that the novelty would at least count for something. In one swift motion he sliced straight through the Dwemer metal, turning back to me. I charged straight at him, thrusting my sword towards the equivalent of his chest. It glanced off his armour, sending me hurtling behind him.
"Disappointing," the snake muttered. "Prey to old prejudices. Tscaesci have advanced since you saw us last."

A hard and fast fight against an unknown enemy. I am not proud of the fact that I rendered myself invisible for some breathing space. It did not work, as Meokda flicked his tongue out.
"I sense you, High Elf," he boasted, slithering towards me unhindered. I threw an exploding fireball at him, which engulfed him in flame. His armour glowed white as it absorbed the magical energy.

His amour was the key to his power. As he readied for another strike, I remembered my mastery of Mysticism, using telekinesis to rip his armour from his body, the clasps snapping and the front plate was lifted from his body. I brought up Trueflame, slicing his body open. He froze, dropping his wazakashis to the ground with a clang.

"An honour," he gasped, as the life drained from his eyes. "But there are always more. The invasion...is imminent..."

I like this. just started reading today and i think it's really interesting. I applaud your use of first person and the journal mechanic, I can never get either to work for me. You clearly don't have that problem. The only things I can find wrong are typos, everything else is really entertaining. Hope you finish it.


Am I mistaken or does it really say in forum rules that you can't go back to an old fanfiction thread? lol, I'm unfamiliar with this "thread necromancy" term but it seems like bull to me, especially if there's quality work being contributed. Guess I'm not up with the forum lingo.

At any rate, looks like I won't be contributing any fictions myself for a good long time, I'm a really pokey writer.

Thanks, I first tried the device in my 'Books of Lorcka' thread, when the Champion of Cyrodiil in his pre-champion days set off on an expedition to find Atmora, the frozen last continent of men. It worked well, so I decided to revisit it for the Incarnate travelling to Akavir. Typos? Damn! I haven't spotted any myself, but I hope they don't break the flow.

Moderators tend to frown upon bumping older threads, don't know if it applies to the ff forum. Hopefully not, in any case the story isn't too much of a zombie...

You should have a go, everyone was new at it once!

This really is awesome. The Nerevarine was my favorite of TES protagonists, and them just settling the rest of his story by saying "Oh, he went to Akivir, nobody knows anything now," really pissed me off. You'd think such an important figure in such an important part of history would have something to do with a giant invasion from hell, per se.

And you'd think he'd have something to do with the events after Oblivion, as told by the Infernal City. Oh well. You should try and send this to Bethesda, it's really good. It could help them clear up some of the history of the Nerevarine after he left. Of course, getting rid of all the Altmer references, as somehow nobody knows what race the Nerevarine was. Same with the eternal champion and the Emperor's agent from the Illiac Bay, oddly enough.

But anyway, I look forward to seeing the rest. I also thought it was amazing how much depth and visualization I got from such small passages. Turns out the Nerevarine was a pretty damn good writer, as well as a hero of nations.

This is a great fanfic, It inspired me to start writing my own!

Oh and question, what is the character limit per post?

Fantastic... Just fantastic... :goodjob:

I agree.

I love the journal-entry format. Also, I think you're portraying everything about about the races and culture of Akavir very realistically.

As far as constructive criticism, I noticed a typo.



In this sentence,
Presumably from a time before the discovered the treacherous weather patterns of their homeland.
it should be, Presumably from a time before they...

Keep writing more, this is awesome. :clap:

Wow, thanks fellas. At the moment my Fallout fic, Queen of The Pitt, is taking up most of my energies, but Nerevar's latest quest will continue.

@ Sryner of the Sword; If Bethesda is reading and likes my stuff, I'm always willing to add my creative works to the process gratis - although Bethesda already have countless suggestions as well as paid writers, so somehow I doubt that they need my services.

@ Rivaldo; I'm honoured that I'm inspiring other writers. As to the character limit, I've no idea. If memory serves there is a limit, but it's a fairly generous one. A mod could probably answer definitively.

@ Elite; damn typos! They inevitably creep in, thanks for spotting. TES has lore-a-plenty, and to me a fic that breaks with lore also breaks the universe and the reader's immersion. Even in things like names, you don't want a Tscaesci called 'Bob Smith' or somesuch. So, I've tried to keep all my writings as consistent with the universe as possible. To this end TIL and UESP are invaluable resources for any TES writer, The Vault and Fallout Bibles for Fallout stuff.

keep writing. This is one of the four Fan Fics I constantly check on, and none of them (besides this) appear to have had any updatesin the past two months.