1
Middas 11th of Last Seed 4E 201 the summoning of Potema Middas 18th of Last Seed 4E 201 I scarce believe all that has happened to me since I last wrote, nay, since I last believed I could ever write. For quite a horrific thing has happened. All of such I shall make an account of here in my memoirs, should my mind forget such an ordeal. Yet I ask how could I? The chaos is forever seared into my brain with all the fury of a dragon's breath, for it was dragon's breath that left me in such a frightful state. As last I wrote, I was coming from Whiterun, or rather passed the town swiftly by for fear of recognition. Truly, a year has passed, yet so near to towns of stature and might, I still feel a chill, and the sinking pit of dread that I am to be spotted and carted off. And I was. But not near Whiterun. I followed the back roads through the province, hoping to cut West towards Markarth then make for Solitude on my appointed path. Yet what should happen, but I found myself set upon by Imperial Soldiers. Some wide patrol curving round towards Helgen, the fortress city I despise with all my heart yet weep for at its mangled fate. An Imperial soldier called out to me. I panicked. I fled. They made chase and caught up with me. One tackled me to the ground and wrenched my arm till the shoulder popped. I conjured a sword and stabbed back at him to no avail. He kept pulling back on my arm, twisting it cruelly. I was near blinded for the pain that surged through my side. Just as I felt the skin would break and my whole arm peel off, another soldier came upon me and crushed my wrist under his boot so that I broke my concentration, and the sword vanished. I saw an armored fist above me, and then all was darkness. When I awoke, I was sore all over, my arm properly in place but awfully tender to the touch. My robes had been stripped from me, my items confiscated. My hands were bound together before me, and my feet were bare and bloody. A man asked if I was alright and apologized that he had no water. I was still foggy and coming round, and he helped me to sit up on a bench. But the bench was moving and I felt sick. When I blinked the fog away, I saw we were in a wagon. There were four or five of us, and another wagon off before us. I realized in horror we were prisoners all. They spoke in the rumbling Nord dialects and talked of death and fear, and I was rather confused by all of it as my senses had not all turned to me. As I looked about us, I realized with a horror I was surrounded by Nords. And from their talk and uniforms, I realized they were the Stormcloaks I had managed to avoid. (TO BE CONTINUED) (He was able to continue this journal because he went back to Helgen once the dragon was gone and retrieved his effects off the body of an Imperial Soldier and the wagon he had been brought in on) As of today, my account continues, I had made my way through various means of carriage to the city of Solitude, having run all of yesterday and most of today to get there. This was the day of Potema's summoning. I knew it. I prayed I was not too late. The Ritual Master would not abide such tardiness, and whatever would the Wulf Queen think of me then? Her greatest admirer not attending her awakening? I had to be there. Had to. And luck would have it that they caused a stir for the townsfolk of Solitude, for as I arrived, I heard rumor of strange sights and dealings at Wulfskull2 Cave. I sit here now in the greatest of anticipations as I wait for the Innkeeper to afford me the supplies I requested. I need to keep my wits about me, as my heart demands I leave all and fly to that dark sanctum at once. Turdas 20th of Last Seed 4E 201 I have been accepted into the Bard's College with much wailing and gnashing of teeth. Very few remember me, as most of the mages have died or departed. Though Tolfdir seems to have given me a completely clean slate, I shudder to think what the Arch-Mage will want with me. A most curious thing: I came upon a lovely young Dunmer by name of Brelyna Maryon of House Telvanni. She talks of many things, but I admit, my mind tends to wander. Granted, she is a most accomplished and intriguing specimen, but she just has this way with the eyes that makes me lost. I feel silly for even having such a notion. A strange Thalmor ambassador by name of Ancano lurks about the place, sticking to the walls like glowing mushrooms. None are exempt of his crude stares, save I, which I believe I owe to my race. I am never inclined to detest my kind, for I am a patriot and a proud member of Altmeri, yet he gives chills and all sorts of nasty feelings, like a sickness under the skin. I cannot help but devise he has disturbing ideas for us all. As such, I refuse to cross with him. Fredas, 21st of Last Seed 4E 201 Tolfdir led I and three other apprentices, including Brelyna to an ancient Nord ruin outside Winterhold, a place called Saarthal. I met with J'zargo and the strange Nord fellow Onmund first there till the Professor and Brelyna came. I was sent off alone to search for artifacts. Tolfdir eventually caught up with me, as I delved into depths unexplored by any being. We came to find some strange orb in the depths of Saarthal. I never imagined such a strange creation could have been forged. It hovers above the ground, covered in luminescent glyphs. I am mesmerized by it, and cannot blame Tolfdir for not wishing to be part of it. He remained while I alerted the Arch-Mage of the College. |
Tirdas 17th of Last Seed 4E 201:
all characters wake up on Tirdas 17th of Last Seed 4E 201, but as he was bound and gagged and running for his life, he hardly got the chance to write in his diary 1 Tamaros was a criminal wanted by the Empire for murdering over a dozen men, women, and children, having used them in his ghastly, magical experiments. He was cast out of the College of Winterhold and was hunted down. After a year of running, he was finally apprehended. His bounty and name were cleared after he saved the life of an Imperial while escaping Helgen. He did not stick around for this, but it was cleared all the same. 2 Tamaros has a habit of writing "wolf" as "wulf", with a U. |