You've reached the profile of AK151. How you wandered upon this profile, I do not know, and I sincerely apologize for your misfortune. Should you decide to stay and have a look around, you'll find writing (some decent, but most pretty bad), (mostly) failed experiments, and perhaps some music. You may also happen across some fo-Star Wars stuff, much of which I keep around as a lesson to myself in how to avoid being embarrassingly over-the-top and ridiculous. It exists primarily for the currently ongoing Star Wars role-playing group (yes, there is a somewhat-thriving Star Wars RP here, believe it or not). Anyways, enjoy your stay, have a nice day, and, as always, have fun!
I'm replaying Enderal, a total conversion for Skyrim. I found it well-made, with a gripping story, great characters, and excellent music. I got a whole bunch of mods for my next playthrough, and one adds in a journal one can write in to record thoughts, events, etc. I'll be keeping this journal up as I play, and I figured it would be fun to share it here.
Heartfire, 16th, 4E 8234
Well, Dal’Geyss is certainly personable – about as personable as any nobleman, I suppose. I could’ve made a scene, but I doubt it would have done much good. He’s got a bodyguard, one of those Petrified. I don’t know much about them, but I can see him in the Sea of Eventualities easily enough, so he shouldn’t be too much trouble.
The problem is that Dal’Geyss is stubborn. He’s hiding the Black Stone somewhere. That much is clear. But he won’t budge, and I doubt giving him an ass-kicking will change that. He threw me out of his mansion, but there are other ways to get in. I need to find something to use against him. Once that’s done, we’ll come face-to-face again, and I’ll show him just how worthless all his so-called power really is.
Looks like the good Ketaron Dal’Geyss isn’t as untouchable as he thinks he is. He has an heir. A boy named Ryneus, apparently. It wouldn’t be information of any significance if the certificate of his birth weren’t locked away in the attic of his mansion, never to be seen. I’m surprised Dal’Geyss didn’t simply burn the bloody thing.
From what I can tell, it looks like our noble had an affair with a commoner. If I were to guess, he wanted to keep it covered up. Gods know what he did with the poor lass and the kid. I guess we’ll find out. I’ve been moving through this place like a ghost, but it’s time to make some noise. I want answers, and anyone who gets in my way won’t last long enough to regret it.
Damn, words cannot describe how good that felt. As expected, the moment I walked in Dal’Geyss told his Petrified to toss me out. The bastard went to grab me but didn’t expect me to fight back. When I nailed him in the face and sent him reeling he went for his greatsword, but I drew Blutgang just as fast. We went at it for a few seconds before I called up Alice. She turned the tide. A few moments later he was out.
As for the other guards, when they heard the commotion they all came running, but none of them were prepared to take on Alice. She just stood guard, flaring her skin up and snarling pretty viciously, and none of them dared to come any closer. I love that wolf. She’s fantastic.
Anyways, with the guards taken care of, I confronted Dal’Geyss about the birth certificate I found. Apparently, it wasn’t an affair at all. His wife got pregnant seven years ago, but the child she had was deformed, and badly. Dal’Geyss gave him away and didn’t think twice. But before he sent him off to die in a whole at the edge of the world, his wife swiped the Black Stone and sent it off with the kid.
So that’s where I’m heading. It’s a village called Silvergrove, close to Duneville. If I’m going east, I need to do it rested, so I’m done for the day. Besides, I need my armor, and Halda will probably insist on holding onto it until it’s finished.
After he gave me the information, I left. He wanted me to hand him the certificate, but I told him that whether he got it or not would depend on how well-off his kid is. I wasn’t an unwanted child, but I knew plenty of people in Ostian who were. Their parents were pieces of trash who deserved to burn, and this bastard is no different. If something’s happened to that boy, so help me there won’t be a person in Ark who won’t know the story of Ketaron Dal’Geyss’ secret heir.
He was pissed, to say the least, which is good. Borek’s the only lead on the Rhalata I’ve got, but Dal’Geyss opens up a completely different avenue. I gave him my name and told him to sick his thugs on me. I welcome it. The sooner they start trying to kill me, the sooner I can start hunting them down.
On another note entirely, today is an interesting day. It marks the thirtieth day I’ve been here on Enderal. It’s been roughly a month since I washed up on the shore with arcane fever and not a clue about what the hell was going. It’s been a month since Sirius died and I left my old life behind for good. It’s been a month since I became the Prophetess.
Honestly, I don’t know how to feel. I suppose I should be happy I’ve survived this long. But a lot has happened. Looking back at this journal, I’m not sure whether it’s impressive or disturbing that I’m holding it together like I am.
Before I came to Enderal, I knew a few people, but I really had only one friend: Sirius. When he died, it didn’t really hit me until a few days later. Even then, I tried my best not to let it show and kept whatever grief I felt buried deep. When I killed Roccio I thought that would give me some closure, but it didn’t. I think the closest thing I’ve had to any sort of emotional catharsis was my breakdown after Lishari’s death. That was something I really needed. And maybe that’s enough to keep me going. I guess we’ll see.
Another thing: before I washed up ashore, I had maybe two or three kills to my name. Sirius and I got in plenty of scraps, but we usually left our enemies breathing at the end of it. I probably killed more rats than men in Ostian. But here? I can’t count the number of people I’ve slain. It would have to be a legion, at least. And that’s not even accounting for the beasts and the undead. It’s like I’m some sort of death-dealing killing machine. And I take it all in stride. But I feel like I shouldn’t. I feel like the fact that I am is a problem.
Regardless, it doesn’t matter much. What’s done is done. I’ve learned a lot over the past month, and I think I’ve grown from the scared and angry stowaway who didn’t know what to do with herself. It’s only been a month. And yet my life has changed forever.
Like I said, it hasn’t been without loss. I owe it to all of them to keep on going. Lishari, the Summerstones, the Foxhands, and everyone else on Enderal I couldn’t save. And I owe it to Sirius. We came to Enderal together, but he never got to set foot on the shore. Every step I take I take for him, and every breath I take I take because of him. Without him I wouldn’t be here. I owe it to him to keep going.
Link to Enderal. It's important to note that the writing above is based almost entirely on the story created by an extraordinarily talented group of modders. Credit is due to them, not to me. I would also be remiss to not credit Arcones for the idea of using a parchment-looking background to add some flavor.
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