Updated 31/5/2009:

I have recently returned to Morrowind after a short break, and after experimenting with a few builds I have finally settled on a character I am truly satisfied with. However, in the past I have always been something of a powergamer. I want to experience a different side of this fantastic gameworld, so after a little consideration I decided to begin chronicling the adventurers of my stealth based Bosmer, Caidiana Aluuvial. I am writing this for my own benefit, but I also hope my readers are able to gather some sense of enjoyment from these entries.

Note: Clicking the links beneath each entry will allow you an easier method of navigating the journal.

Current statistic screen as of 31/5/2009: http://i120.photobucket.com/albums/o182/Dakashakk/Trials%20of%20a%20Bosmer/Inventory2.png

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Chapter One: Dealing with the Imperials
As a Bosmer who prides herself on her proficiency in Speechcraft, I have a great deal of experience with the various accents and dialects of Tamriel. However, few voices have instilled in me the same feeling of calmness and sanctuary as that of the lady in my dream. Her words are now nothing more than a blur; washed away by my sudden awakening and the subsequent trials I was to face on that fateful day of 16 Last Seed, but her underlying message and tone will forever remain with me, and provided a great deal of inspiration in the harrowing days to come.

I was awakened that day by a rough, gravelly voice. The contrast between this and the dulcet tones of my dream was jarring, and I awoke with a start to find myself being watched over by a fellow prisoner. The ashen skinned Dunmer stared intently at me, a feeling of genuine concern apparent in his expression despite having lost one of his scarlet eyes; most likely taken by the sadistic bastards at the Imperial Prison during his prolonged incarceration.

“Can you stand, Bosmer? You were shaking, and you show clear signs of fever. I thought you would not make it through the night.” He spoke slowly and clearly, appraising my sickly, malnourished form with his one good eye.

It took me a moment to find the correct response, so taken was I by my dream.

“I... I was having a strange dream; that is all. Where are we?”

As he spoke, he staggered to his feet and deliberately moved to stand beside the wrought Iron Gate which sealed us within the dark and dingy cabin.

“Have you forgotten? We are aboard an Imperial prison ship, bound for the province of Morrowind. My homeland. I heard the guards speaking outside our cell – It seems we have reached our destination. They should be filing paperwork as we speak; it sounds like they are finally letting us go!”

I wished at that moment that I could share his optimism. But I had witnessed enough of the Imperials behaviour to have me convinced this was nothing more than a twisted game to them. Thoughts of slavery and execution immediately ran through my mind; I had horrors of finding myself released from the Imperial Prison where I had made some powerful allies, only to be sold to a twisted Dunmer plantation owner who would make me his pet. After all, I hear Bosmer females are particularly sought after by lonely and desperate noblemen . . .

Before I could bring myself to voice my opinion on the matter, our iron-clad door swung open on its hinges with an almighty crash and a large Imperial Guardsmen was framed in the entryway. He took one step forward and looked down at me; making me painfully aware that I was still sat ungracefully on the dusty floor of our cabin. Clearing his throat, he addressed me in his strong, confident tone.

“Caidiana Aluuvial, Wood Elf? I am under orders to escort you to the deck, where you will be released into the custody of the Vvardenfell authorities. Follow closely behind me, and for your sake, let’s keep this as civil as possible.”

With one final nod to my cellmate, I began to trudge through the damp and miserable corridors of the prison ship, my head lowered in an attempt to block out the jeering catcalls of the prisoners contained within their own holding cells. Why was I the only one to be guided along that oppressive, hostile passageway toward certain death at the hands of an executioner? There was so much at that time I failed to understand. The revelation that was soon to come only paved the way for yet more questions and uncertainty. This was to become a recurring theme throughout my time in Morrowind, each step I took simply serving to deepen the countless mysteries surrounding my identity and eventual destiny.

Upon finally completing the demoralising walk past the leering inmates, I was pushed unceremoniously through the hatch leading to the outer deck of that unremarkable Prison ship. The brutish guard who had dragged me from my cell gave a slight chuckle as he forced my head to collide roughly with the thick wooden trapdoor on my way through.

My first breath of fresh air was marred by the stench of stagnant swamp water and a veritable army of midges, who took an instant liking to me and homed in on my bare arms and neck the moment I stepped through the hatch into the lovely little Imperial wasteland known as Seyda Neen. A burly redguard turned to me with a slight smile.

“I can tell by your face you have been struck by the smell. Don’t worry, Wood Elf. You’ll get used to it.” He spoke in a hushed tone, as if sharing friendly words with an inmate was a crime in itself. I nodded appreciatively, well aware that if I were to truly express my resentment toward this guardsman then I would be treated to yet another of the savage beatings I had recently become accustomed to at the hands of these Imperial dogs. He followed up his initial greeting by adopting a more official tone and pointing to the wooden door at the end of a narrow, makeshift walkway.

“This is where they want you. Head down to the dock and follow the path to the Census Office. Socucius Ergalla will complete the necessary paperwork, and then you will officially become a citizen of Morrowind.”

This news instantly bought me to my senses, and I found a new spring in my step as I bounded down the walkway toward the finely crafted wooden door. I was to be released, after such a short sentence? I didn’t yet understand the reasoning behind this decision, but regardless, I was to become a free woman again. I had dreamed of this day every night for the last four years; and I was not going to allow some stagnant swamplands to spoil my mood.

However, I was not counting on the particular conversation that was to follow. When pursuing a profession like mine, it becomes natural to avoid talking about yourself too often and to stop drawing attention to yourself. Therefore, upon being interrogated, my usual reaction, as with many of my associates, is to start lying through my teeth. Covering for oneself is simply good sense, especially when you have something to hide.

Socucius himself seemed like a fairly regular Imperial Scribe; his plain, unassuming robe giving him an appearance slightly reminiscent of a devout monk or priest. His kindly blue eyes likely invited those who converse with him to open up and trust this surprisingly unthreatening Imperial agent. But when faced with his scrutinising gaze on the morning of 16 Last Seed, comfort was the last thing I felt.

“Ahh yes, Caidiana Aluuvial. We’ve been expecting you. You’ll have to be recorded before you are officially released. This is merely a formality, I am sure you are aware. Here at the office of Census and Excise, we do like to keep on top of paperwork. Now then, you will have to answer a few questions for the benefit of my records. Be brutally honest here, Bosmer. I want an insight into what makes your mind tick.” He spoke in a slightly squeaky voice, similar to that of a Bosmer male. I am not certain whether this was done to mock my people or to make me feel at ease, but I got the feeling it was not his natural tone and was put on for my benefit.

I cleared my throat and launched into a brief speech, unable to contain my anger any longer.
“Well now, if there is one thing I love, it is conversing with Imperials. No hard feelings about the harsh beatings and borderline starvation I have been subjected to for the past four years. Ask your questions, and I will gladly provide you with a wealth of information that you can use against me in future.” I am not entirely certain what prompted this outburst, but it went unappreciated. The only reaction I successfully invoked in the aging Imperial was a slight smirk and a subtle nod that told me he had been looking for exactly this kind of response. Inwardly kicking myself for allowing him to break through my defences, I folded my arms and inclined my head, motioning for him to continue. It was clear that I was dealing with a master of speechcraft, but I was not about to back down and allow him to patronise me any further. After a brief moment in which his eyes roamed over my body, clearly assessing my character and demeanour, he gathered a sheet of fresh parchment and quill from the nearby desk and began scribbling furiously, occasionally watching me as he began to ask a series of questions.

“Before your imprisonment, which province did you call home, Bosmer?” This was a simple enough question, and I did not hesitate in answering truthfully.

“I was born and raised in the Imperial City, sir. Cyrodiil is, and always will be, my home. You were likely expecting me to mention Valenwood, but I have never visited my people’s traditional homeland and thus do not identify myself with such an environment.”

Socucius nodded solemnly, watching me carefully once again as he followed up with his second question.

“What is your chosen profession? ‘Prisoner’ is not a particularly flattering title to be lumbered with, so your answer here will help to determine your future identity on Vvardenfell. Please choose your words carefully, Bosmer.”

I wracked my brain, listing in my head the various titles I had been given throughout my life in the Imperial City. Nuisance, Beggar, Pickpocket, Assassin, Murderer. None of these options seemed appropriate when placed under the scrutinising gaze of this Imperial Scribe. Eventually, after what seemed an age, I came to a conclusion which I knew would surprise this seemingly unshakeable official.

“I am a Diplomat, sir. Language is my weapon, and I am widely renowned for toppling fearsome opponents with a combination of well timed insults and a dazzling show of witty wordplay.” This was a complete lie, but it seemed to impress the man standing before me. Mission accomplished.

“This is an unusual path for a Bosmer to follow, especially one with a background as colourful as your own. However, I applaud this particular philosophy. I hope you will employ your talents in service to the Emperor, for if you are as skilled in the art of speechcraft as you claim then you could perform wonders for our cause.”

I laughed inwardly at this prospect. After the treatment I had received from the Imperials, the only business I wished to have with them would result in their swift and brutal assassination.

“Perhaps. I will take your words into account, sir.”

Another lie.

“Excellent. Now, I have one final question. It says here that you were born under a certain sign. What would that be, Bosmer?” His eyes widened as he asked this question; clearly this was a matter of great significance. Far more so than the previous questions he had assailed me with. It seemed an odd request, but I saw no harm in answering him honestly. Although negative conclusions could be drawn from my answer, it is not one’s fault which constellation they are born under.

“I was born under the sign of the Thief, sir.”

Socucius’ eyes narrowed as he jotted down this final piece of information, then he casually handed over the sheet of parchment he had been scribbling on.

“Show your papers to Captain Sellus Gravius when you exit, to get your release fee.”

After muttering a quick thank you I quickly proceeded through the door, stepping into a slightly larger room, painfully aware of the watchful stare I was being given by Socucius’ Imperial bodyguard as I brushed past him. Clearly my release was highly unorthodox, judging by the undue amount of attention I was being given by all those involved. The moment I was freed from the oppressive eyes of the Imperials, I quickly unrolled my release papers and looked over them. To my surprise, there was no mention at all of my birthsign. Clearly that was not required information, and was simply a matter of curiosity on the part of the Imperial Agent.

Outraged at the fact I had been outdone by an Imperial, I snatched up a few items from a nearby table and carefully stowed them out of sight. I felt I was owed a little payment for the years of abuse I had faced. Over the coming months, I would end up taking far more from the Imperial lapdogs, but those few meagre possessions were a start.

As it turned out, my meeting with Socucius was not the most awkward conversation I was destined to have with the Imperials that day. Unfortunately my meeting with Sellus Gravius, the captain in charge of my release, went no better than that previous debacle.

Captain Sellus Gravius was indeed an imposing sight; standing at well over six feet tall and wearing perfectly polished golden armour he cast a strong aura about himself and made me think twice about attempting to backtalk him the way I had Socucius.

Turning to me slowly, he said in a gruff yet not entirely unpleasant voice:

“First, let me take your identification papers. Honestly, word of your arrival only reached me yesterday. My name is Sellus Gravius, I am an Imperial Captain and you will do exactly as I say, Bosmer.”

Feeling that I was in no position to argue with a man who would likely be able to snap me in half with little effort, I nodded slowly and cast a quick glance about the rather unremarkable room.

Save for a small key resting on the shelf behind the Imperial Captain, there was little in the room that contained any real value. Figuring that the mysterious key was out of my reach for now, I turned my attention back to the figure that was currently addressing me and listened carefully to his words.

“You’re in Morrowind now, and the moment you step through that door you are free to establish your new life. You will of course be branded a citizen of the Empire, and as a result, will be obligated to follow the laws of the land. I do not know the reason for your release, nor why you are here. But the order has come from Emperor Uriel Septim VII himself, and that is enough for me. You have, however, been assigned a few specific duties which you are obligated to carry out. So pay careful attention; I do not wish to repeat myself.”

The emperor himself had decreed that I be released from the Imperial Prison? If the man standing before me had not been built like an Ogrim, I may have questioned him further on this point. But as it was, I allowed him to continue uninterrupted.

“This package came with the news of your arrival. Don’t open it, or there will be consequences. Your instructions are to travel to the city of Balmora and ask in the South Wall cornerclub for directions to the home of one Caius Cosades. Present him with this package, and then follow his instructions to the letter. Tell no one your business, and travel with haste. This is a small price for your freedom, Bosmer.”

I nodded to prove that I understood, and promised to deliver the package immediately. Upon hearing this, Sellus presented me with a small pouch containing 87 Gold coins and wished me luck for the journey ahead.

As I opened that door and took my first few steps into the town of Seyda Neen, I was hit with an overwhelming sense of freedom. I was now a citizen of Morrowind, and was certain that with the use of my somewhat unique talents I would prosper in the coming months . . . .

(http://www.gamesas.com/bgsforums/index.php?showtopic=997202&st=4)

I'm intrigued. This Morrowind story has a very different tone than that of the other one I've been following on the forum recently. I like it so far, looks like Miss Helena has a rival . I'll be watching both of these stories closely, keep it up!

Quite well written; I think you managed to pull off the first-person perspective nicely. I also think you did a great job describing Caidiana's emotions and thoughts throughout the whole thing, as well, which really helped the character come alive for me. Not really any criticism from me, at this point.

Keep up the good work; I'm interested to read more of this.

Wow I'm impressed. Your writing is clear and gives a lot of description of the scene and the characters. I agree with Ghostpaw that Helena who makes the the other Morrowind fan-fic may have some competition. Keep up the good work and I would love to read some more!

Thank you for the feedback. I admit I am a little rusty, having not written anything substantial in over a year. But I am slowly getting back into it, so there should hopefully be a marked improvement in the coming chapters. Anyway, here is part two. Enjoy.


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Chapter Two: A Taxing Start

Upon walking into Seyda Neen for the first time, I was struck by an interesting realisation. I am not the only individual who holds a certain resentment for the Imperial regime. I had barely been given time to gather my bearings and fill my waterskin from the nearby well before I heard someone approach me from behind. I whipped round to face him, only to find myself staring into thin air. When I heard the usual slightly strangled, high pitched greeting of a Bosmer male I forced myself to adopt a pleasant smile and looked down at my approacher. Despite spending a great deal of time with those of my kin who had taken up residence in The Imperial City, I still find it humorous when I consider their short stature. This particular mer stood at the average height for one of his kind, which meant his face was about level with my chest. After suppressing a giggle, I forced myself to smile pleasantly at my conversant, which encouraged him to address me properly.

“Greetings, fellow Bosmer. Fargoth’s the name.” As he said this, he extended his one free hand in order for me to shake. This was an unusual greeting for one of my kind, and I immediately put it down to the rampant Imperial influence in this otherwise unremarkable swamp town.

To be polite, I shook his slightly clammy hand and calmly introduced myself.

“Caidiana Aluuvial. It is a pleasure to meet you, Fargoth.” I had not been free five minutes, and already I found myself lying. This particular meeting was far from a pleasure, for Fargoth’s beady eyes were focused on my chest and I don’t believe that could be entirely attributed to his diminutive height.

Lifting his gaze slightly, he cast a quick glance about our surroundings and spoke in a hushed voice:

“You’re the one the boat dropped off, aren’t you? It’s unusual to see an Imperial ship arrive at this time of night. I hope you were treated fairly, but knowing the Imperials, I sincerely doubt it.” As he spoke he unconsciously rubbed the ring finger of one hand, which tightly grasped a burning torch. “I swear the fetchers took my ring . . .” He added hastily, seemingly muttering to himself.

I realised in that moment that Fargoth was yet another victim to the Imperial regime and immediately felt a strange kinship with him, despite his slightly annoying persona. Therefore I reacted in a way which many who know me would consider out of character. I reached into the pocket of my stained prison garb and withdrew a small enchanted ring that I had found in a barrel during my impromptu raid on the Imperial office.

Fargoth’s eyes immediately widened greedily and he snatched it from my hands before I had a chance to speak, sliding it back onto his finger with a satisfied smile.

“Thank you, outlander. It is a family heirloom, and it never leaves my person. I noticed it was missing after that swi’t Hrisskar engaged in his weekly ‘Shake down Fargoth’ ritual. What I would not give to see the arrogant smirk wiped off the face of that detestable Nord . . .”

Aware that he was beginning to ramble, I cleared my throat loudly and allowed myself to interrupt his speech.

“So, in exchange for that ring, what can you tell me about this town? Are there any rumours I should know about, or important services?”

Fargoth snapped out of his rant, and eyed me up and down critically before responding.

“Well, no offence Outlander. But your clothing gives you the appearance of a vagabond. My friend Arrille runs the local tradehouse, just over yonder. I will put in a good word for you, as you so kindly returned my ring. He should be able to set you up with a nice, new outfit, along with a sizable discount as you are a friend to Fargoth. I hold some sway in this town, you know.” He remarked proudly, straightening up as he spoke the final part of his monologue.

I thanked him and began to walk away, but was stopped in my tracks as he began yet another speech. Clearly, this was a Bosmer who enjoyed the sound of his own voice.

“Be careful around Seyda Neen, friend. Attract too much negative attention to yourself and you may find yourself silenced.”

“What do you mean?” I enquired, curious as to the type of danger that could possibly be present in such a dull town.

“Vvardenfell is a hazardous place, Caidiana. You should keep your wits about you, and don’t underestimate anyone you meet. The locals are not quite as civilised as those of the other provinces, and they hold very little love for Outlanders such as you. For example, there is the sad case of Processus Vitellius . . .”

“Processus Vitellius?” I narrowed my eyes, expecting some ridiculous urban legend to spew forth from the lips of my newfound friend. He seemed the type to spread tall tales.

“Processus Vitellius was a local taxman, in the employ of the Census Office. He was not well liked around here, as is the case with many of the individuals on their payroll. He had a strong presence in Seyda Neen, and many accused him of skimming profits off the top of our tax money. Whether or not that is true is anyone’s guess, but regardless, somebody must have sought their own brand of justice, for Processus has now simply disappeared. He has not been seen in four days, where previously he maintained a constant patrol of the town. Some suggest he may be away on business, but I don’t believe that one bit. I think someone killed the Imperial tax collector, for whatever purpose.” He spoke in a constant whisper, as if worried he would be overheard. He struck me as slightly paranoid, so I simply offered him a polite smile and a quick thank you as I went about my business, searching for the tradehouse of the local merchant, Arrille.

After a few minutes of searching the town, I finally stumbled upon the residence of the trader in question. The interior seemed to be a standard shop in a distinctly Imperial style, with the upper floor holding a bar selling a variety of local spirits. Alcohol would have been a divine gift at that moment, but in truth I simply felt a desire to explore my freedom, and for that I would require a clear mind. Therefore, approaching the tall, proud Altmer known as Arrille I simply requested the necessary supplies in order to begin hunting, and ended up walking out of there with a set of light furs, a rusty dagger and a basic Chitin longbow.

Feeling slightly more comfortable with my newfound freedom, I decided to test my new purchases by hunting the oversized mudcrabs I had spotted outside of the town boundaries. However, it seemed I was destined to become distracted from this brief foray into the swamplands of the ‘Bitter Coast’ by far more pressing matters.

As with most Bosmer, I am proficient in the field of Marksmanship. Therefore save for a few cuts and scratches I faced no significant problems with the Mudcrabs and other local wildlife of Seyda Neen. Combat has never been my specialty; most of the dangerous situations I found myself placed in while living in the Imperial City were easily solved through the use of subterfuge or careful manipulation of speechcraft. But upon noticing the abundance of hostile creatures surrounding this unassuming town I came to the realisation that Morrowind is a very different region than those I was familiar with, and training my combat skills would become a necessity if I were to survive my adventures in this mysterious new land.

After little more than an hour of exploring the stagnant swamplands, I stumbled upon the beaten and bloodied corpse of an Imperial who looked to be in his mid thirties. The shock I felt upon this grizzly discovery passed quickly; after all I was not entirely innocent, even in those early days on Vvardenfell, during which I could not be considered anything more than a rookie.

Judging by the few meagre possessions carried by this Imperial male it was clear that I had stumbled upon the corpse of Processus Vitellius, and by the clumsy method in which his body had been disposed of, it was easy to surmise that his killer was something of a novice. Pocketing the 200 gold coins he had been carrying and gathering up his collecton of various tax documents, I stomped back through the undergrowth toward the town of Seyda Neen to ask the locals for information regarding his death.

A female member of the Imperial Legion nodded patiently as I informed her of my discovery, chiming in only when I finished explaining.

“So you have discovered the body of an Imperial Agent? I suppose Socucius Ergalla in the Census and Excise office would be the one to speak to about such information. If that is your inclination, of course.”

Surprised by the casual nature of her instructions, I nodded a quick thank you and once again returned to the Imperial offices to speak with that fetcher Socucius Ergalla. I had taken an instant disliking to him that went beyond his Imperial roots, and I did not relish the idea of engaging in conversation with him once again. But if there is one thing I had been taught by my time in the Imperial Prison, it was that enemies should be kept close. Reporting this crime would appear to be a measure of good will toward the Empire, and frankly, despite my personal feelings toward them they could indeed become a powerful ally if I were to remain on their good side. Besides, reporting a crime like this would surely be deserving of a reward. In those days, I needed every septim I could get my hands on, so I would gladly swallow my pride and march into the Imperial Offices if it meant I could survive my first week in Vvardenfell as a result.

The moment I entered his office, Socucius fixed me with a curious stare. Undaunted by his obvious displeasure at seeing me, I stood before him and inclined my head respectfully. Before I had a chance to state my business, he began speaking in his usual patronising tone.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the road to Balmora by now, Bosmer?” He eyed me up and down as he said this, obviously absorbing every detail of my new outfit and not appearing altogether impressed. I admit, I must have looked a state, even whilst standing in that dimly lit Imperial office. My furs did not fit me comfortably, clearly designed for the larger frame of a Nord, and my arms and torso were stained with the discoloured blood of the mudcrabs I had been hunting for their meat just ten minutes earlier.

“While exploring the Bitter Coast, I stumbled upon the body of the Imperial tax collector, Processus Vitellius. Among his belongings were a number of official documents, which should serve to prove his identity.”

Socucius seemed momentarily taken aback by this news, then composed himself and resumed his usual infuriatingly calm exterior as he made his next request.

“Processus Vitellius has been murdered? What a waste. He was a good man, loyal to the Emperor and known for his generosity. These are dangerous times we live in, and I suppose this sort of thing is inevitable. I hate to seem callous, but did you happen to find the tax money he had collected? Regardless of the saddening circumstances, I do have a job to do.” The Imperials certainly had some nerve, mistreating me for four years during my stay at their Prison and then expecting me to run around and act like their personal errand girl. Accepting that I would look suspicious if I denied locating the gold in question, I decided to compromise with this detestable figure that represented everything I despise about the Imperial invaders.

“I found 100 septims on his body. It seems strange that his killer would leave the gold behind after going to such trouble, but who am I to question the mentality of a killer?”

Socucius seemed to chuckle inwardly at my response, but accepted the septims with a slightly knowing smile. It was as if he could detect my lie and knew I had pocketed half the gold, but if he did realise my crime he chose not to comment on it, instead offering a proposal which piqued my interest.

“It is good to meet a citizen who understands her loyalty to the emperor. If you were to bring Processus Vitellius’ murderer to justice, I would offer a substantial reward for either his capture or an honourable defeat at your hands.”

After taking a moment to ponder this request, I nodded in agreement to Socucius’ words and promised to avenge the death of an Imperial who, in all honestly, probably deserved his fate anyway. With this unwholesome thought lodged in my mind, I turned to leave the dingy office, but was halted by Socucius’ personal bodyguard who turned to me and spoke in a hushed voice.

“My name is Ganciele Douar, officer and Spearman of the Imperial Legion. I overheard your conversation with sir Ergalla, and would like to offer my own input on the situation.”

Willing to accept any advice I could get on this matter, I motioned for the Imperial officer to continue.

“Processus Vitellius was a good man, and since his arrival has been a close personal friend of mine. He carried out his duties honourably, and he will be missed. If you wish to seek his killer, you should take the opportunity to speak to one Thavere Vedrano, a Dark Elven female who makes her home at the Seyda Neen lighthouse. In recent weeks, she and Processus have been spending a lot of time together, so if anyone has insight into the identity of his killer, it will be her.”

Thanking him for his assistance, I left the Census and Excise office in a particular hurry. The less time spent in that office the better; it just served to remind me of my Incarceration, and anyway, I was eager to begin my investigation in order to claim my ‘Substantial reward.’

Taking the advice of Ganciele Douar, I decided to proceed immediately to the nearby lighthouse. It was not difficult to find, in fact it was less than a five minute walk from the Census office. Cautiously pushing open the heavy wooden door, I winced inwardly as it creaked loudly on its hinges. Yet I could not explain why this bothered me so. The lighthouse consisted of a single poorly lit room, filled with a selection of storage crates and small, finely crafted chests. Each one was fitted with a large and complex looking padlock; for a brief moment I actually considered examining the contents of these Imperial containers, but a loud cough from the shadows bought me to my senses. I quickly turned, surprised by this sudden revelation that I was not alone, and found myself face to face with a tall, remarkably pretty Dunmer female.

Suddenly realising that I had intruded on her property without invitation, I quickly introduced myself and stated my business.

“Thavere Vedrano, I assume? My name is Caidiana Aluuvial, I only arrived in Seyda Neen a few hours ago. I- I am afraid I may have some distressing news for you . . .”

When Thavere heard the news of her companion’s death, her entire body tensed and her expression became one of intense sadness. Yet, as is common with the Dunmer people, she retained her composure and addressed me after only a momentary pause.

“Processus, murderered? This is quite a shock. He was such a caring, thoughtful man. He was not entirely without fault, but I do not understand who would commit such a heinous crime. He had no enemies to speak of in Seyda Neen, why I only witnessed him becoming angry on one occasion. He argued with that greedy fetcher, Foryn Gilnith, when accused of dipping into the taxes for his own personal gain.”

With a quick thank you, I turned to leave the lighthouse and seek out this ‘Foryn Gilnith’, but before I could step back into the early morning sun I was once again stopped by Thavere, who asked me in a quavering voice:

“Please, if you should locate Processus’ ring, I would very much like to have it returned to me. I offered it as a gift, and I would like it to remember him by.”

Promising to do all I could to help in this matter, I strode back through the door to hunt down the murderer. Who knew such a sleepy town would be able to produce such excitement?

However, I was soon to get more than I bargained for upon locating Processus’ killer . . . .

Thanks to the shaky directions offered by my new friend Fargoth, it took me only thirty minutes to locate the home of Foryn Gilnith. Standing outside his shack, I prepared myself for a potentially violent outcome and knocked politely on his door, aware that the Dunmer within would likely be more forthcoming with a confession if I first treated him respectfully. As it turned out, such behaviour was unnecessary as Foryn seemed strangely eager to boast about his illegal activities.

“What do you want, outlander?” This rather hostile greeting was offered within seconds of entering the home of Foryn Gilnith. Clearly he was not one who appreciated visitors to his home, and I immediately noted that his impatient disposition would be well suited to one who was guilty of the crime he had been associated with.

“Forgive my intrustion, Dunmer, but I am here to discuss the murder of the Imperial tax collector, Processus Vitellius. His body was discovered on the outskirts of town this morning, and you have been charged with his murder.” Taking such a direct route and accusing him outright was a risky move on my part, but he did not seem the type to make small talk. It seems my estimation of him was correct, as he lifted his head to gaze directly into my eyes and whisper in a menacing voice:

“That fetcher? You’re damn right I did him in, and the people of this maggot infested cesspit should be thanking me for my actions. He was skimming money from us honest folk; overcharging us on our taxes and pocketing the difference. He was forever flaunting his ill-begotten trinkets amongst the hardworking townspeople. His demise was well deserved; good riddance to him.”

I am no stranger to killing, myself. But to do so for such ridiculous reasons, and then to boast about it, is nothing but ignorance. The irony of my current situation was not lost on me, but at that time all I could think about was bringing this murderer to justice.

“That is no excuse for murder, Dunmer. Your punishment has been decided.” As I said this, I realised I sounded like an ally of the Imperials and inwardly cursed at myself. Already they had made me a willing servant, but there was no going back now. Foryn had already let forth a battlecry and charged at me, flailing his fists wildly.

Foryn fought without discipline or style; it was clear that his life had not been based around adventure or combat, for his lack of formal training was apparent. However, whatever his particular profession, it had served to develop his muscles and given him remarkable upper body strength. I dodged his blows efficiently, but as previously stated, I am no warrior myself. I could not help but take a few blows, and even armed with the dagger I had purchased from Arrille, it was clear that I would be no match for this assailant if I were to confront him directly.

For a few minutes, Foryn attacked me relentlessly and without mercy, and it took all the strength I could muster to remain standing. I managed to get in a few good swings with my rusted dagger, and his arms and face were covered with superficial cuts. But still he continued to fight, ignorant to the pain due to the adrenaline rush endowed by his extreme rage and bloodlust. Eventually, one particularly strong punch caught me on the side of my temple and I felt my legs give way. Everything became black. At that moment, I thought I was going to die.

Foryn towered over me as I lay bruised and bloody on the floor, his expression nothing short of maniacal. It was clear this Dunmer had somehow been driven out of his mind, and as he prepared one final blow that would no doubt have ended my life, I suddenly realised what I had to do in order to survive. Quickly snatching up the dagger that lay at my feet, I gathered what remained of my strength and rolled to one side, dodging the slow but powerful strike that my opponent had planned to finish me with. It seemed Foryn had underestimated the natural agility of a Bosmer, for as I avoided this particularly brutal blow I managed to slash at his hand with my dagger and remove the thumb of his outstretched hand, causing him to cry out in pain and clutch at the bleeding stump. Rising quickly to my feet, I took advantage of his momentary lapse in concentration and swung at him one last time, leaving a gaping wound on the throat of my Dunmer opponent. As the blood seeped from his throat, Foryn collapsed to one knee and fixed me with a look of intense hatred before falling lifeless to the floor.

I felt a momentary pang of guilt for killing Foryn Gilnith; after all, he had only committed a crime that I may have considered myself had I been in his situation. But I was quickly learning that Vvardenfell was a harsh environment, and getting on the wrong side of the Imperials would not end well. Therefore, he earned his death at my hand. I for one did not lose any sleep over the matter in the coming days.

I was grateful for the reward offered by Thavere Vedrano upon my pained return to the lighthouse. The numerous injuries I had sustained during my battle with Foryn Gilnith made the return journey a lot less comfortable, therefore it was only fitting that I be rewarded with a pair of healing potions in return for returning the ring I had discovered on the corpse of Processus’ killer. She was grateful for having this memento returned to her, so it could at least be said that some good came from the death of that Dunmer criminal.

Less than an hour later, I strode proudly through the streets of Seyda Neen, the 500 septim reward from Socucius safely secured in a pouch at my belt. I had already found myself growing tired of the swamp town by this time, and it was with some degree of satisfaction that I visited the Caravaner on the outskirts of town. I had heard rumours that a local trader in the nearby Imperial settlement of Pelagiad was searching for an assistant. By travelling with a caravan I was guaranteed safe passage through the swamps. After witnessing the death of Processus Vitellius, I did not want to take unnecessary risks. The Dunmer people seemed to have a particular disdain for ‘Outlanders’, and it would be a shame to be cut down in the relative solitude of the swamps when I was well on my way to finding a legitimate profession for the first time in my life.

As it turned out, working for Mebestian Ence in Pelagiad was far from the steady, legitimate career I was expecting. It stands out today as one of the most unusual occurrences of my early days on Vvardenfell . . . .

(http://www.gamesas.com/bgsforums/index.php?showtopic=997202&st=0) (Chapter Three coming soon.)

Once again a very good post. But if there is one thing that I must criticize it's the fact that Caidiana didn't really express her feelings to much in certain situations. For example when she found the body of the Tax collecter she didn't really seem very bothered that she had caught sight of a dead person laying on the floor. But still it is only a very tiny criticism that you shouldn't really worry about to much.

Keep it up .

Thank you for your input. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.

After rereading the entry, I do see your point. The description at that point is a little sparse, however the way I saw it, Caidiana has just spent four years in prison and understandably feels very little remorse for the death of this Imperial taxman as a result. She agreed to avenge him due to a combination of boredom, keeping up appearances and the desire to earn some money from the bounty.

She also briefly referred to herself as an assassin during the profession selection scene, and had no issue with killing Foryn Gilnith in the second chapter. Therefore the sight of a corpse wouldn't phase her too much. She's clearly used to it.

I'm glad you enjoyed this chapter, that detail aside.

Ah I see, well from reading what you put there it does make sense that she isn't to emotional about the whole deal.

Sooooo when is there gonna be another post here?