Character Diary: Dunmer Fugitive Soren

[Sevrin]

NO SPOILERS!
This was originally posted in Fanfiction but the journal-esque style did not seem suitable to that forum's intended purpose and I dislike blogs, so I am recreating it here (and altering the writing a bit). That said, this character is my first playthrough. If you post here, don't spoil anything.

QUESTS
The standard "Dragonborn" questline will be avoided as much as possible. I have invented an alternate questline more aligned with the character and his story. As for what it is...You can guess but I won't be telling until it becomes relevant within the tale.

SUMMARY
I BACKSTORY
II PLAYSTYLE/CHARACTER RESTRICTIONS

I - THE BACKSTORY
From an early age, Soren showed skill in the art of magic. Unfortunately, as his age and abilities grew, so did his desire for power. He began to view his fellows as mere instruments to be controlled and commanded so, to that end, he began to abuse his skill in ever more corrupt ways, delving eagerly into the study of dark and destructive magic. As his twisted abuse of magic increased over the years, his appearance grew increasingly corrupt, pale of skin and scarce of hair, his very life energy seeming to burn itself up as fuel for his dark magic.

After a failed attempt to subjugate the others of his race, he was captured and put to trial. Many called for his head on a plate but he knew they would accomplish nothing that way. His years of twisted magical dealings had afforded him, alongside his own power, great connections. While not truly a Daedra himself, he has unnatural connections with these entities and, were he to die, they would simply rebirth him in Oblivion. Unfortunately, his judges seemed aware of this and instead sentenced him to suffer for his crimes via torture until such a time that no one was left to take up the work of administering his punishment. The sheer agony of this years-long penance instilled in him a deep trauma.



One night, the hold he was held captive in was attacked and in the ensuing battles, the bonds holding him were shattered. He escaped into the wilderness but soon lost strength as the endless torture he endured had left him weak. Discovered by Imperials searching the area for hiding Stormcloaks, he was assumed to be one of them and sent off to be executed along with an assortment of other criminals. When a sudden dragon attack disrupted his would-be death sentence, he fled the burning town of Helgen with an immediate desire for revenge upon his tormentors...


II - Restrictions I'll be using
- May only carry a maximum weight of 150. A mage's focus isn't as effective if they're worn out from carrying a heavy burden.
- Must not use metal weapons. A pure mage disdains such crutches.
- Must never kill, break-and-enter, or steal unnecessarily in order to maintain a low profile. After all, he is a fugitive. Bandits and the already-dead are fair game in all cases.
- If encountering any torturer-variety character, they are to be murdered. His torture-induced trauma will not allow him to let them live.
- No alcohol. It impairs the mind and weakens the effectiveness of one's magic.
- Must sleep (wait) at least five hours a day, ideally at his home instead of the inn, to avoid citizens becoming too familiar with him and to save gold.
- Must wear a hood at all times in towns or villages to hide his face.
- Fast travel via carriage is not allowed, again to keep a minimal profile and familiarity with people.
- Destruction magic is a top priority in developing the character.
- If he dies, any save (auto or manual) may be loaded but he must wait 24 hours upon reload before doing anything. This is to simulate the time it takes for his resurrection.

(Sadly, this journal won't include pictures. I'd have to take each one with my iphone, transfer it, save it, upload it...I may take pics now and then for it though.)

 

[Sevrin]

Day One​

Upon escaping Helgen, I had little choice but to entertain the fool Imperial I had followed. At least in joining him, I had avoided a potential disaster: Running off with members of a known rebel organization would only draw unwanted attention. Hadvar rambled on about how lucky we were to be alive and I could only just restrain myself from burning him alive. I did not need luck: I had the powers of Oblivion at my side. Amidst his blathering though, he at least provided me with proper bearings. We were apparently near a place called Riverwood. The name meant nothing to me, being that I was a relative stranger to the area, but it was good to know we weren't too lost after our escape through those caves.

Hadvar soon became lost in his own thoughts and I eagerly took the opportunity to slip away unnoticed, only sticking by him long enough to make use of the guardian stones nearby. My power was still but a loathsome speck of what it used to be but these artifacts at least gave me something. Soon enough, I found myself stumbling into ill territory as a bandit drew his blade and warned me not to come closer. Were I some cowardly peasant, I might have obliged...But, to his misfortune, I was not. He began to move in for an attack only to be toasted moments later. His blade never touched me. As it turned out, the poor fool had been stationed to guard a mine where his little group was hiding out. It was a fine little base of operations, I had to admit, and so I torched every last bandit within and took up residence myself.

Having so easily located and taken ownership of a fine place for myself, I decided it might be good to explore the surrounding area. Donning a cloak and hood I had claimed during my escape from Helgen, I set off to map out the region around my new home.


Not long after departing from what I learned was the Embershard Mine, I quickly discovered the humble logging village of Riverwood. That droning leech Hadvar had mentioned a blacksmith relative of his that might have something to offer me. Taking solace in the lack of chatty companions, I decided to scout out the fellow. Oddly enough, I found him wandering the road rather than at the blacksmith. Seems Hadvar's fellows were a lot of slackers. Regardless, I had no need of smithing work, so I did not bring it up in our conversation. He was a nice enough sort, welcoming me and even offering an assortment of goods for the taking. His generosity was rather misinformed but that certainly did not stop me from making use of it. I took my fill of silver treasures and learned a bit of information about some mage's college in Winterhold. I knew vaguely of Winterhold but had never attended any such college. My magical learning had been done in relative isolation amongst my former Dunmer brethren. Nonetheless, as my powers had been greatly weakened by all of these ordeals, a visit to this place could be very useful. Excusing myself from the smith's company, I entered the Sleeping Giant Inn to get some rest and plan my next move. Some wench was shouting about the ale gone bad. It is a good thing I do not partake of such things or I might have had to give a damn. I approached this woman to learn she was the village innkeeper. Tossing a paltry ten gold at her, I retreated to my room for a night's rest.


Day Two
Waking at six AM sharp, I stepped back into the noise of the main room and noticed an alchemy table. Not wanting to draw any troublesome attention, I questioned the barkeep, an oaf by the name of Orgnar, who granted me permission to utilize the table. I purchased what little ingredients were available, mostly blisterwort and wheat, and came away with a few extra potions for my supply stock. To my irritation, this transaction depleted the measly supply of gold I had scrounged together since my escape from Helgen. I would need more if I planned on getting anywhere. Orgnar, being a barkeep, was bound to have all sorts of tidbits about any events going on so I asked him if he knew where I might find work. As luck would have it, he informed me of a recently-delivered local bounty: A group of bandits had holed up in some place called Redoran's Retreat and their leader's death would pay well. Not being well-versed in the deciphering of maps, I set out in search of this retreat guided instead by clairvoyant magic.

Along the way, I passed near the city of Whiterun and was distracted by the pained bellows of a giant. I found the hulking corpse in a field of potatoes. The culprit, I discovered, was a huntress by the name of Aela. She spoke of an organization called the Companions and suggested I might join them. A clan of empty-minded meat shields hiding behind steel? No thanks. I had no time for such cowardice. Eventually I discovered the retreat and, after a short rest, entered to take my bounty. The bandits and their dogs fell like fragile leaves as I scorched the walls with flame, taking what gold and alchemical supplies I could find amongst their supplies. When the time came to eliminate the leader of this sad rogue pack, he proved rather more resilient than I had planned. And with that mistake, for the second time in my life, I died. Seemingly instantaneously (though I knew it was not), I was reborn at the door. Oblivion bless the Daedra. This time, I went in prepared and downing healing potions as the flesh was steadily scalded from his bones. In minutes, it was over.

While I prefer to travel light, I decided to liberate my fallen prey's armor and weaponry to compensate for the gold and ingredients I had put into the potions I'd had to waste on him. Satisfied in my victory, I prepared to depart only to see night had fallen outside. The night gave way to hostile wildlife. I did not feel up to dealing with such beasts and so took a short nap within the retreat before heading back toward Riverwood, to sell off my fallen bounty's gear and claim my reward.​

 

[makoman8]

What difficulty level? How about map usage? The mention of using clairvoyance implies you're going with BIGWooly's no-map restriction...true?​

I really enjoy these journals. Good distraction for a boring work day. Would there be an easy way to organize them? A tag or separate forum or something?

 

[Sevrin]

What difficulty level? How about map usage? The mention of using clairvoyance implies you're going with BIGWooly's no-map restriction...true?​

I really enjoy these journals. Good distraction for a boring work day. Would there be an easy way to organize them? A tag or separate forum or something?

I can't recall the actual name for the difficulty level. It's the Skyrim equivalent of "Normal".

As for the clairvoyance, it's less of a restriction and more of I'm not very good at navigation so I'm using magic to navigate for me. So no, I'm not really using the map.

 

[Mr1cammando]

This is pretty nice. I think I'll read this in between Hrisskar III entries.

 

[Sevrin]

Middas, 20th of Last Seed​

On my way to collect on that bounty, I ran into a group of rather unpleasant characters. As I came near, I overheard one of them mention the date and committed it to memory: I hadn't kept proper track of time in ages and it may be useful to start doing so. The man I spoke to was an abrasive elf called Thalmor Justiciar. He mentioned something about working for the Aldmeri Dominion which is apparently some sort of elven empire with aspirations to rule the land. I will teach them their place later. I approached Whiterun after some time and immediately set out to find the man who held my reward. Unfortunately, it seems the city was closed off so the guards would not let me in. It's times like these being witness to a vicious dragon's attack can prove beneficial: All I had to do was mention Helgen and everyone in this place became putty in my hands. I was granted access and found my way to the Jarl's residence, though not before many locals barked and spat at me in disdain for my use of magic. I would have to kill them someday. Proventus Avenicci waited there with my reward but, to my irritation, Jarl Balgruuf insisted on talking about Helgen some more.​

​

I didn't pay much attention but he mentioned a wizard by the name of Farengar. A fellow magic user could prove helpful in my quest so, after finally claiming my reward, I sought him out. As it turns out, he was of no great use. He merely wanted a delivery boy and I am no peasant courier. But he also requested that I deliver a batch of frost salts to a local alchemist: This job I accepted, fully intent on disappearing with the ingredients for my own use. Alas, some ward was placed upon them that prevented me from doing so: I could not use them effectively and no merchant would touch them. Farengar clearly takes great measures to insure his property is not stolen. I sold off the various goods and armor pieces I had collected before stalking back out of the store. Frustrated, I decided to complete his little delivery to gain whatever monetary compensation I could. On my way, I watched a little girl extorting coins out of some other weakling child. She could be a useful servant someday...But I digress.​

​

The local alchemist, Arcadia, had a rather well-stocked but poorly-kept shop. Ingredients and books in haphazard piles over the shelves and counters. But I am not a housekeeper so I did not care to linger on these details. The woman had no gold to compensate my work but she did provide a number of potions. I took the gold I had gained from my bounty and my sales to purchase a few extra stocks of ingredients, crafting them into potions before I turned to leave. And that's when something caught my eye: A particular book. A Guide to the Daedra. A guide this woman was surely unworthy to possess. Her lowly mind did not deserve knowledge of my benefactors. What's more, perhaps it could provide clues as to where they currently hid themselves amongst the mortal populace. Against my usual principles, I stole the book away when her back was turned.​

​

Immediately upon exiting Arcadia's shop, I teleported myself home to the Embershard Mine. After searching for intruders, I stored the guide in a chest and curled up on a bedroll, pausing only briefly to wonder which of those murdered bandits had rested here before sleep silenced my thoughts.​