Journey West

Faen and I traveled west for some two weeks before arriving at our destination to deal with some outlaws that had been troubling a small village hamlet.  I found more than I bargained for.

Before leaving the college I spoke with some of the longer residing students regarding the mysterious orb we had now taken custody of.  One claimed an ancient mage named Magnus was its creator, hence why the archmage wishes me to seek out the staff of Magnus, though no one knows where it is.  And one student recalled a delegation from the Synod of the Citadel that came demanding the staff be entrusted to them. 

This leaves me wondering, if perhaps there was a secret cabal in the Citadel the entire time I was there.  I had thought that my fall from power was orchestrated by the council of the Empire, but could it have been instigated by mages within the Citadel who were hungry for power?  I shall have to be on the watch for mages from the Citadel. 

I traveled to Whiterun by way of Dawnstar.  Faen and I stayed a few days in my home there in town.  It grows cozy now that I am coming into some money and a few books to pass the evenings.  Leaving out and heading west we found the western watch tower in flames, I suspect due to a raid by either the rebels or the imperial forces.  I saw no movement below, but we made a wide detour around the site not wishing to become engaged in these politics.

Not a span to the west we spotted a three man imperial patrol.  We hunkered down and let them pass not wishing to be misunderstood.  A few span further on we were ambushed by a very talented young swordswoman.  She did not look nordic but rather elvish.  I don't know why she thought we were a threat or if she meant to rob us, but she underestimated our skill at arms.  I now find myself in possession of some beautiful elven armour. I am hoping to regain the means for enchanting such items, so will keep them around for a future time.

The plains began to open up and I began to feel hope for this northern land.  Beautiful rugged landscapes lay open before us.  And in the midst, out of nowhere, was an ancient nordic druid shrine.  Once again after solving a short riddle an underground cache opened, but little of consequence was in it.  A bit of gold and a strange book about a treason.  I wonder if the book was important enough at some time to be kept secured away.  It will be added to my library in Whiterun for future research.

Faen spotted a cave about a week into our journey. We both needed rest so decided to make it our home for the evening.  But others were home.  We found ourselves in a nest of bandits.  And of all things they had a mage.  It was a stiff struggle, but I was able to take the mage out from a distance by bow.  I think I may be giving Faen a run for his money in marksmanship, but probably I just got lucky, as the bow is not my best weapon.  It never was. 

The next morning I was surprised by a huge sabercat. I've never seen anything like it before, all fur and teeth and appetite.  Faen took care of it from a distance with an incredible bow shot.  As he was skinning out the hide I looked around and found an altar down below where a few coin and some jewels had been left in token of appreciation to a god named Zenithar.

The rest of the week was uneventful as we drew near to the afflicted hamlet.  It was early evening and we decided to wait a few hours for full darkness then move into the outlaw camp.  There were perhaps a dozen guarding the perimeter but in the darkness they were not much trouble.  But entering the cavern below I discovered a gruesome scene.  Blood smeared all over in one location.  Looking from a balcony we spotted three of the enemy and using our bows took out all but the ring leader.  A battle commenced with him throw waves of cold magic in our direction and I responding with my gift for fire.  With his death I found a horrible site.  He appeared to be half human and half spriggen, those great tree like creatures found throughout our lands.  I decided we should stay in camp and do some research into this mystery.  In one of the small hovels up top I discovered a letter which seems to hint at a larger group of tribal people gathering for concentrated military action to push back invaders.  Are the settlers and townspeople considered invaders?  Does this refer to the imperials?  The rebel stormcloaks?  Does it have anything to do with that foreign mage hanging out at the college?  Or are there other invaders no one seems to have seen yet?

I went into town but the residents there seem largely ignorant of the tribal forces up top. They mayor seems more concerned about being caught up in the war between the rebels and the legion.  But he seemed to know nothing of the tribesmen on the hill top other than he had heard that some people called "the forsworn" were camped out nearby.  I think these are the same people.  Could there forswearing have something to do with the mutation that I saw in their leader?  Fain and I are going to return to Whitehall to speak with the Companion who asked me to look into this matter.  I begin to think there might be more to this group of companions in Whitehall than just a group of swellswords.

I have not been long in this northern land and already my life grows complicated.  A war is brewing.  Rumors of dragons fly everywhere and no one seems to know that Martin was transformed into a dragon to battle the great demon who sought to bring oblivion to our created realm.  The dead are walking, this I have seen with my own eyes.  (Though a few are not walking any longer given the taste of my mace.)  Mages are messing with power I suspect better left alone.  While in myself I find some ancient power I've never sensed before lingering just below the surface.  Is there perhaps a power tied to the land here that is not available elsewhere?  Could this explain the power of the standing stones that I discovered shortly after fleeing Helgen?  Add to this a mage from some land who is up to something, I know not what.  An oracle proclaiming doom is coming?  And now the Companions involving me in some conflict with not outlaws but a tribe of people, at least one of whom has been mutated by magic and I suspect on purpose. 






I am tempted to return to Riverwood and take up chopping wood as a living.