Enderal Journal, Entry 25 - Riddles of Life blog - AK151

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, 8th, 4E 8234

What the fuck is going on? What the actual fucking hell is going on? I... Jespar and I pressed on and we... we eventually came to some... cavern, open to the sea. There was a manor there. Maybe a guardhouse of some sort... you know, it doesn't fucking matter. Inside...

Inside I saw me. I saw Sirius. And I saw me. Our bodies. I didn't even notice the smell at first. Rotting flesh. I don't... I don't understand. Jespar... he thinks it's an illusion of the Temple. I'm... I'm... not so sure. I... I don't know. I don't fucking know! It's just... I haven't cut my hair since getting to Enderal. It's almost down to my neck. Any illusion might have tried to reflect that. But... my hair was as short as it was the day Sirius died. The day I was tossed overboard, tied to him, and... miraculously washed ashore. I got in a fistfight before we were caught and got a scratch on my face. It's there. It's... there. That's... that's... my body. My... my corpse.

No. No, it's not. It can't be. This is in my fucking head. It has to be. It's this fucking Temple or the fucking High Ones or some fucking thing like that. I'm alive. I'm alive. I know I am. My heart beats, my mind works, my blood flows. I'm alive. And I'm me. I'm me. This Temple is going to have to better than that.

I changed the composition of the air in the guardhouse – turned it into a highly flammable gas – and tossed a fireball into it. Demolished the whole thing. Me... Sirius... It's all gone. If those are really our bodies, they got a proper sendoff. If not, then good fucking riddance. It's time to get moving.

Well, now I know why Jespar's so jaded. We found the Pyrean train in surprisingly good condition and got it working. I can't tell how fast the thing is moving, but I reckon it's able to rival a Myrad in terms of speed.

Anyways, we had plenty of time to talk, so we did. Jespar seems to have recovered from the whole Constantine thing and he’s taken, well… seeing my corpse… in stride, which is… good. I guess. I’m still not sure I’m past it. But even if I’m not, we’ve got a job to do, and we can’t let this get in the way of what we’re here for. We owe it to Constantine, at the very least.

But back to Jespar, we ended up on the topic of his family. Apparently he had a sister; first time he’s mentioned her, actually. Lass named Adila. Seems they aren’t exactly on good terms anymore. She’s part of the League of Apothecarii based in the Frostcliff Mountains. But he told me of how this dungeon-delving reminded him of some of the exploring he used to do with her when they were kids. They’d sneak out and take a peek into ruins and caves and such. That actually ended up saving their skins.

See, until now, I hadn’t thought about it: the “Dal” in a surname denotes nobility. Jespar’s surname is Dal’Varek, which implies he comes from some sort of influential family. But I haven’t heard sight or sound of any other Dal’Vareks, and I can’t imagine why the son of a noble would be working as a mercenary living from job to job.

Well, it all has to do with his father: Damean Dal’Varek. He was a judge in Ark’s Tribunal – a principled man, who adhered to his justice with stalwart conviction. Sirius was the same way. But, being a judge who saw everyone equally, it’s not hard to guess how the story ended.

To make a long story short, a son of a noble committed murder and was brought before the Tribunal. Everyone voted for acquittal except for Jespar’s father. Didn’t make a difference and the guy (name was, or is, Valenzio Doran) went free.

It’s easy to figure out what happened next. Turns out everyone knew the family had ties with the Rhalata. Naturally. A few days after the ruling, thieves wielding shadow steel broke in and slaughtered everyone – servants, guards, Jespar’s father and brothers… everyone. He and Adila only avoided the carnage because they were out exploring. Just another two victims of the Rhalata. The more I hear of them, the more I know that I have to end them once and for all.

After that, Jespar went out on his own. He and Adila went their separate paths – I think they had inherent disagreements on how to view the situation – and he took up mercenary work. He told me that what happened to his father just proves how dangerous and useless stubborn adherences to ideals are. All those ideals will do are get you in trouble, and eventually killed.

And then there’s the whole thing about causes. He told me they’re useless to fight for, because it’s a thankless job, and some idiot will waltz in and ruin everything anyways; it’s easier to destroy than to create, after all. We saw it with Yero and his food bank for the Undercity. We’re seeing it now with the Cleansing and Coarek trying to tear down all of our efforts.

Even so, I don’t entirely agree with him. Sure, he’s not entirely wrong. But I don’t think he understand why people fight for those causes in the first place. Sirius didn’t stand up for me, didn’t endure beatings and attacks because he wanted to be thanked. He did it because he believed it was the right thing to do… because he wanted to help someone, no matter the consequences.

Yeah, idealism has consequences, and they’re tough to face. Sirius and I have had to square off against people trying to gut us and leave us dead in the streets. But some people are willing to face them. Sirius was. And… and so am I.

Anyways, there was more to unpack in our conversation, but I’m honestly too tired to go into all of it. We didn’t entirely see eye-to-eye, but I respect his views, and he respects mine, which is good enough.

After we wrapped up our little debate, he asked me about my history, about how I ended up orphaned, and all that. It wasn’t a long or terribly unique story. Our family was doing stuff the bastards at Ostian’s great Temple of the Creator didn’t like, and so they came in the night to slaughter all of us. Killed mother, father, and my little sister Sasha. And I ran. Slipped past them while my sister burned and ran as fast as I could. Didn’t even look back as my family got pinned up on burning crosses for everyone to see.

There’s survivor’s guilt, and there’s guilt because you just abandoned your family to save your own skin. I suffer the latter, and I deserve it. There wasn’t anything I could’ve done, I know that. But they were my family. Yeah, my father was a prick, but mother taught me to hunt and fight, at least a bit, and I played with Sasha every day. And then I just left them behind. Just fucked right off while they all screamed and burned. I guess it’s not much of a wonder that they’ll sometimes pop up in my dreams.

Jespar has them too. Dreams about his dead family and all that. I suppose it wouldn’t be too uncommon. They tapered off for a while. The last one I had was… well, it was right before things went south with Sirius. Just the same shit. But they’re just dreams.

On a bit of a lighter, more amusing note, Jespar made a bit of a veiled pass at me. I felt bad for him and kind of felt obligated to let him down. Had flashbacks to the same conversation I had with Sirius when he propositioned me. They both took it pretty well. Heh, both went red in the face too. I suppose it’s a bit embarrassing making a pass at a woman only interested in other women. It did well to diffuse the air of tension and gloom, though, so it was welcome.

In any case, I think that’s enough for the day. Leora said it would take at least a week for the Nehrimese ships to sail here after they’ve finished mobilizing. That means we’ve got a lot of distance to traverse in this train, and a lot of time to kill. Might as well use some of it to get some sleep. Gods know at this point, we’ve earned it.