492. Trust

Posted on Sep 8, 2020 by Tamriel Drifter

I recall a quietly spoken saying back in the Imperial City, ‘fire and lightning are slow tools of destruction compared to the forked tongue of a Tharn’. To trust is hard, knowing who to trust is harder still.

Trust, it is the very glue of life that holds together every partnership and fellowship. It is the moving sea between the shores of every relationship, yet so far I have found little reason to put my trust in any of my companions. The old man has hid truths from me from the beginning, and Titanborne was complicit in his deceit. The Redguard is honest to a fault, but he has not yet fully recovered from his torture in Coldharbour, and suffers still Mannimarco’s influence. And then there is Tharn.

Yet I must learn to trust my companions, and they me, for together we are the best hope that Tamriel has.

What better way to discover if you can trust someone in battle then to lead them into the fabled Crypt of Heroes whilst a necromancer is raising an entire city of dead against us. Because in the end the only way to discover if you can truly trust somebody… is to trust them.

~~S.K~~

491. The crypts of Sancre Tor

Posted on Aug 31, 2020 by Tamriel Drifter

We must travel to the ruins of Sancre Tor, the once majestic Colovian city of the Jerall Mountains founded by the great liberator Alessia herself. At its height it served as the axis of the Alessian Order where many a Cyrodillic emperor chose to be buried, yet now it is all but hollow ruins.

It is said that the great city was destroyed when its very walls began to tremble in terror at what arose in the catacombs beneath, and it is here in those same crypts where Sai Sahan chose to hide the Amulet of Kings.

The dripping ivy-clad walls of her catacombs still stand strong however, mists swirl underfoot and sudden chill winds rise and fall as if the door to the underworld has been left ajar. Yet the air is stifling, heavy with foreboding and fear. Behind every locked door, in every dank charnel house, amongst every overgrown gravestone, can be heard footsteps creaking, groaning, scuttling, and the clanking of chains.

But worse of all, the insubstantial spectre of that damnable necromancer Mannimarco dogs our every step, raising the buried dead of this once great city to arms against us.

9.8

S.K

490. The noblest Redguard

Posted on Jul 28, 2020 by Tamriel Drifter

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In the ancestral crypts beneath the ruins of the Abbey of Blades, we are ambushed by the treacherous Mannimarco, who appears before us in the form of cloud and mist. Once threat and wit are dutifully traded, the duplicitous elf begins to raise the corpses of the most lauded sword-singers who ever walked the sands of Hammerfell against us.

Now, in these cramped tombs, against the mightiest of undead, shall I discover the worth of my companions, and they in turn discover mine.

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In truth I already know how formidable a warrior Lyris is having on more then one occasion fought our way out of Coldharbour together. And if Abnur Tharn be but half the battlemage his reputation claims him to be, then he will prove a mighty ally indeed; although I strongly suspect like most Tharns, he is the author of his own repute.

My only questions are of Sai Sahan, can he be truly fully recovered from his years of torture in so short a time, and even if so, what use the Redguard against his ancestors anyway? For Sai Sahan is no Ash’abah, he is a Redguard nobleman. In the desert of the Alik’r, I witnessed far too many a redguard nobleman who would rather die on their knees in the sands praying to their gods, then fight against their honoured dead; and Sahan is perhaps the noblest Redguard I have ever met.

Thankfully he is also a pragmatist who realises that sometimes hands that swing weapons can be far more righteous then lips that pray.

S.K

489. The destruction of the Abbey of Blades

Posted on Jul 19, 2020 by Tamriel Drifter

Screenshot_20200713_201715 I make my way back to the Harborage from Bangkorai in answer to the old man’s call, the Redguard Sai Sahan has recovered from his ordeals in the dread Halls of Torment, and is ready to reclaim the Amulet of Kings from the ruins of Sancre Tor. First however we must travel to the Valley of the Blades deep within the Dragontail Mountains, where he left a mystical key to the ruined city in the safekeeping of his old mentor Kasura.

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We arrive at the Abbey where generations of Redguard Sword-Singers have learnt their art, only to find a scene of devastation. The Abbey is in wreck and flames, and the charred bodies of its young students lie all about. Worm cultists arrived before us and opened rifts to Oblivion through which the scourge of Coldharbour flooded the Valley.

Together we beat back the remaining daedric minions and closed the rifts, but just as we thought we had achieved the daedra, the monstrous shadow of a huge titan falls upon us.

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S.K

488. The King is dead…

Posted on Jul 12, 2020 by Tamriel Drifter

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The Far Shores, the utopia of the Redguard warrior cast. An afterlife of eternal martial trial, challenge, and competition. An Aetherial mirror of their desert homeland that is the aspiration of every Redguard warrior, hero, and champion. Yet one wonders about the common folk, the everyday people without whom these heroes could not shine. From the blacksmiths that forge their weapons, to the armourers and cobblers. From the chefs that cook their food, to the innkeepers and maids. From the the stable masters that train their steeds, to the bankers, and merchants. From the magistrates that uphold the laws, to the diplomats, and the city guard. Where do these unsung of heroes of Redguard society go when they die?

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Makes you question the motives of these ‘noble’ Redguard champions, what they truly fight for, and indeed what, or who, would they sacrifice to earn their place in this paradise? But these are questions for another time, for as I approach the pedestal upon which High King Emeric’s soul is still bound by ethereal chain, Septima Tharn brashly springs her unsubtle trap into which I have walked, eyes wide open.

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Tharn has led me here because she believes that in the Far Shores I am severed from the Anuic forces that tethers me to my stolen soul. Perhaps she is right, perhaps if I fall in the Far Shores there is no way back. But Tharn is about to learn that in the Far Shores there are no predators or preys, there are just contenders.

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The abduction of the High King was but a gambit to get me here, but for all her tactical brilliance and necromantic talents that force the spirits of the Hel Shira to fight for her, she is to me but a stepping-stone. For my prey is that accursed elf Mannimarco, and to reach him in Coldharbour I will need Emeric back on Nirn, alive again.

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