(Translated from Ta’agra)
It
has been some time since I saw fit to keep a journal, long before the events
that drove me to Cyrodiil. However, while staying in Chorrol, I’ve managed to
buy an empty journal from Renoit’s Books, and no keep it with me. I will,
hopefully, keep this as a record of my time here in Cyrodiil, so that others
will know of what I have done here.
Cyrodiil
is far from the calm center of the Imperial storm that many make it out to be.
When I arrived in Anvil, it wasn’t long before I was involved in intrigue
between the guards and local thieves, and whatever various matters the Fighters
Guild got into, of which I became a member. (Episodes 1-3)
Tiring of Anvil, I
made my way to Kvatch, (after some brief altercations with local outlaws),
where I began to compete in the local arena. It was good money, but the
behavior of the Arena master, Kholfe, disturbed me, so I left from there as
well. I once more ran into outlaws, as well as an Imperial Guard who had helped
me before, one Viatrice Kolinidas. (Episodes 5-8)
She would escort me
to Skingrad, and after buying her a few rounds for her troubles, I decided to
integrate myself into Skingrad, hoping to build up some more funds before once
more pushing towards the Imperial
City .
Skingrad… what can
I say about SKINGRAD? The local guild master, Ah-Malz, wasn’t too fond of me,
but he gave me regular work. But many of the people there were so rude, it
almost drove me assault them, despite my hopes for some reformation in Cyrodiil.
But that wasn’t the most… bizarre part of the city. (Episodes 9-10)
Glarthir. What an odd little man…
reflecting on my time working with him is what drives me to write this. He
offered me gold to investigate some of his concerns, and while I was tempted to
brush him off as a mad man… well, his gold glittered just as much as a sane
man’s. His first task was to have me follow some woman around. I honestly thought of just asking her about him, as well as the local church leader… but neither would give a straight answer. Glarthir believed a group was secretly
out to get him, and multiple people were refusing to discuss him. I had seen
such things before, back in Elseweyr… so he began to make more sense. I found nothing in her house, but as soon as I left, a guard, Dion, immediately accosted me, telling me to stay out of the town’s business. Glarthir’s
conspiracy theory was making more and more sense to me.
The next target
was Toutius Sextius. I’d met him before, and he’d proven surprisingly capable at combat, more than I would have expected from a random noble. I managed to
buy some guard armor off of the town blacksmith, in the hopes that by
pretending to be a guard recruit, maybe I could ply some more information from
the locals. Toutius seemed ignorant, but I wrote that off as him hiding
something. Everyone seemed to have an opinion on Glarthir, even those in the
Fighter’s Guild! It was beginning to seem like Glarthir was right: everyone in
town was against him! (Episode 12)
I spent much of
the following night in thought on the matter, and tried to be rational… would
an entire town really all be against one man? Or was he actually just a
lunatic, as I originally thought, and so they kept an eye on him. And my
previous experiences with Bosmer weren’t all that thrilling either.
Investigating Glarthir’s next target, Davide Surilie, I found him to be
relatively stand-up, and though proud of his vineyards, he had an air of
humility about him. I decided to investigate Glarthir’s house (once properly fortified by some of Surilie’s wine), and found his home… disturbing, to say
the least. Skulls, strange books, chests enchanted to stay locked… it was
enough to, at the very least, make me doubt my continued involvement with
Glarthir. However, after speaking with him again, he essentially conscripted me
into murdering Bernadette and Toutius, and to say the least, this wasn’t a task
I was… keen on performing. But he grew angry when he showed reluctance, and
though part of thought I could overpower him, I didn’t know what sort of mad
strength he secretly had, and how his scythe shined under the moonlight! No, I
decided to sleep, hoping my dreams would give me an answer on what to do…
And so they did.
In the past, maybe I would have done the deeds he asked. Or maybe I would have
run away. Or maybe I would have turned my blade upon Glarthir. But I decided that I would instead bring this to the attention of the guards, hoping it could be ended without bloodshed. I was,
sadly, mistaken, and Glarthir perished during the altercation with the guards.
Captain Dion thanked me for my assistance, and I pocketed Glarthir’s keys to
make use of some of the goods in his home (after all, it’s not as though he
would need them), but still… I regret that things ended as they did. It was at
that time I decided to leave Skingrad behind me, and to move on to the Imperial City , my ultimate goal since coming to
Cyrodiil. But I’ll leave that for another time, as I believe Renoit is getting anxious by the cloaked Khajiit sitting and writing furiously in the corner. Perhaps I will continue this later, after I tend to some business around town...