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, 12th, 4E 8234
Lishari is dead. She's... she's dead. I just opened the door to her room and there she was, run through with a sword on the bed, blood on the floor. I don't know. I don't fucking know. But she's... she's gone.
Sha'Rim was here too. He said Lishari wanted to speak to him about something. I think he almost killed me when he saw her body. He was distraught, and I don't blame him. He just lost Constantine, and now... now Lishari's gone too. He's gone to tell the Order.
God damn it. God fucking damn it. Why the fuck does this keep happening? Why the fuck does everyone I care about, my friends, my family, everyone, why do they all fucking die? Why can I never just fucking save a single goddamned person? Just one fucking friend? Mother, father, Sasha, Sirius, Constantine, and now Lishari! Why is there never a damned thing I can do to stop this? What the fuck am I supposed to do? What the fuck am I doing wrong?
Someone's going to pay for this. I'm going to find out who did this and I'm going to kill them. We don't have any clues to go on but I've got the fucking Word of the Dead, and I'm gonna use it. They shipped it off to the Frostcliff Mountains for research, but I'm gonna go up there and learn who killed Lishari. Then I'm going to rain hell down until there's fucking nothing left.
I think I scared some of the novices and arcanists. Well, probably more than some. I had to let off some steam after... after what happened to Lishari, so I went to the training rooms and basically went wild. Started by carving up every one of those steel dummies they had into little bits with Blutgang. I'm probably going to have to pay for those.
Then I went to the spell rooms, basically ranges down which you can lob lightning and fire and ice, and tossed the strongest magic I had at the target dummies. They were annihilated within the first few seconds, but I kept going. Used fireballs, lightning bolts, frozen air, and even entropy. I didn't care. I definitely damaged the stone and magically-warded walls and I'm sure I shook the foundation of the building with all my attacks.
I kept raging and raging until Calia called my name. I think that's what jogged me out. When I heard her voice ring through the room I stopped completely. Then I just fell to my knees and started crying. In hindsight it was really embarrassing, but I don't think she really cared. She sat down while I ranted and raged and screamed and shouted like a kid. I can't remember what I said exactly, but it was something along the lines of what I wrote down after I found Lishari's corpse. And I just cried. I couldn't stop myself.
And Calia just listened. She stayed with me and held me and comforted me while all the other novices were probably cowering or seeking shelter. Through my tears I told her about my parents, about Sasha, about Sirius, about Lishari, about everything. I kind of just let loose. It... it felt good to talk to someone about it.
The Keepers and arcanists and novices are all either scared of me, in awe of me, or distrust me because I'm an outsider. The bigshots don't care about my problems; Sha'Rim's too stoic, Arantheal's too focused on his cause, and Natara and Bartarr both loathe me. Jespar's too jaded and cynical, no offense to him.
But Calia didn't give me any grief. She didn't seem impatient or inconvenienced or anything. She didn't judge me or look down on me or tell me to pull myself together. She just stayed with me for who knows how long until I was done crying on the floor of the training room. I think... I think I really needed that. I haven't really cried in a long, long time. Yeah, I really needed that. And I really needed her. I owe her for that.
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.
