News Of The World

So, what? You say. Belenor saves Cyrodiil and disappears? Maybe he met his final doom at the hands of an overzealous guard, trying to stop him from snooping around too much? Or has Falanu Hlaalu somehow suceeded in her nefarious (but quite enjoyable) plans?


Sad thing is - apart from the fact that the 'u' key on my laptop mysteriously stopped working unless punched with enough force to kill a small rat - life happens.

I started this blog for two reasons.

One, I wanted to see what this 'blogging' fuss is about.
Two, I wanted a motivation to actually finish a game for once.
Three...

Okay. I started this blog for three reasons.

Three, I wanted to practise my English in a storytelling environment.
Four...

Ahem. Among the reason why I started this blog are such things as:

Four, I wanted to entertain while waiting for the next pen'n'paper roleplaying session to come along.

But enough with the Monty Python.


After finishing the main quest, I tried getting into the Mages Guild storyline. Unfortunately, it does not give much new things to do, the quest are rather similar to each other. There are still lots of sidequests remaining, and extra content like Mehrunes Razor awaits.


The question, however, is: Do I have the motivation to keep playing until I really finished all quests? Again, with the sadly: No. I am in the process of getting a job that will put me in front of the computer at least eight hours a day, and while money is always good, I fear I'd rather move on to other things. And games. You never know, there might be another blod like this somewhere in the future. At least if I can get all my keys working again. In the meantime, I should just try to avoid words with the letter 'u' in them.

I will try this: Give Belenor and this blog the proper ending it deserves, instead of leaving it hanging in the air like that. So, while Belenor is still in Hiatus, the small village next to Cheydinhal, the finale of his story lurks around the corner!


More on the two mystical towns of Cognito and Communicado, how I threatened the Dell laptop technician with an original Bihänder and the sulking of Falan Hlaalu coming soon. -ish.

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The Rise And Fall Of Ulrich Leland

Travelling through the Nibenay Basin, on my way to unearth one of the greatest legends of our time, I found myself in the beautiful town of Cheydinhal. However, it seems that although the outside threat of the Daedra is gone, not everything goes as smoothly as it should.


I was sipping an ale at the Cheydinhal Bridge Inn, listening to the rumours floating around. Soon, it became apparent that people were rather annoyed at the city guard. Or more specifically, their captain, Ulrich Leland.

Leland fought beside me at Bruma, a capable fighter, but I knew little else about him. Young, focused, ambitious and clad in the finest armour. Just the type that makes a fast career in the guard. Also, the type that may stray outside the law to achieve his goals.

The next day, I decided to find out more about the fines that Leland imposed on the people of Cheydinhal. One person in particular, the Dunmer Llevana Nedaren, had a strong opinion about him. And she did not hesitate to voice it.

Leland had thrown a man, Aldos Othran, out of his home for not being able to pay his fines. Othran had done little more than drown his sorrows after his wife was killed in an ambush by bandits. Still, fines were fines, I needed more to act upon than just lack of sympathy towards fellow citizens.


In the county hall I met up with Garrus Darelliun, second in command after Leland. Darelliun, after congratulating me for my part in the battle at Bruma, was only too eager to share his own suspicions about his captain. Leland had recently bought expensive merchandise, more expensive than what his normal pay would allow. But we needed a witness, someone to press charges against Leland.


Othran was the man. I was lucky to catch him in one of his more sober moments and convinced him to bring the matter before the count. Unfortunately, on the way to the castle, we passed his former home, with a guard standing at the door. Othran started a heated argument, and before I could intervene, he drew a dagger and attacked the guard.

I needed a new witness.

In the castle, I called Darelliun once more into a huddle. A new plan. Instead of trying to find someone else with enough courage to stand against Leland, we would do it ourselves.

Darelliun would distract Leland, while I searched the private rooms of the captain for something incriminating. Notice how, as usual, I would be the one actually performing illegal deeds in the risk of getting caught? Some things never change, I suppose...


I all went smoothly, however. Leland had cleared his rooms thoroughly, but I was able to find an unfinished letter that held enough proof for our purposes. Darelliun offered to speak with the count, while I returned to the Bridge Inn.


Soon after, Ulrich Leland, former captain of the guard in Cheydinhal, had the pleasure of personally experiencing the safety of the castles dungeon. I visited there, just to make sure he truly was locked up. True to form, he threatened to kill me should he ever get out.

Not that I am afraid, but I had a slight sense of deja vu.

More on the question if Mehrunes Dagon needs a shave, why not to go skinny-dipping in Lake Arrius and my intended ascension to knighthood coming soon.

Authors Note: I will be migrating to a newer version of blogger soon. Hopefully there will be no complications, but I thought I'd better give a warning anyway.

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Orrery Express

While sifting my belongings what to leave in Benirus Manor, I found a crumpled note. By the looks of it, it had been in my pack for a long time. Carefully smoothing it out, I could decipher it as a letter from Bothiel of the Mages Guild in Imperial City.

I remembered, then. Something about an urgent search for stolen parts or something. Well, I figured, better late than never. And I really hate loose ends.


On top of one of the towers of the Guild in Imperial City is built a large orrery, helping in divining the fate of the Empire. A merchant bringing spare parts needed for repairs was ambushed, and now the parts are in possession of a group of bandits somewhere in the county of Kvatch.

The only clue I had was Camp Ales, situated on the southwestern end of the Colovian Heights, north of Kvatch.


That in itself was reason enough for me to leave Anvil for a while. I like stopping by Kvatch, seeing how the people slowly rebuild from the burnt out ruins of the city. The remains of the first great gate still stand there, a warning to all future generations.

Standing there, I half expected to be attacked by Daedra, but the threat is finally and truly gone. That doesn't make it less spooky, though.


Kvatch also has one more reason I wanted to visit. It is one of the highest mountains in the south, until you reach the Colovians. Gazing out north, I noticed two things.

Firstly, County Kvatch is boring. Rolling hills, a handful of rocks scattered around the landscape and no real marks for orientation.

Secondly, that was a lot of wilderness to comb for a group of bandits not wanting to be found.


However, County Kvatch has one big advantage. Game. To pass the time, I took up hunting, quite successfully, too. There may have been a slight miscalculation when I accidentally shot one of the mountain lions roaming the wilderness - I never knew that claws could actually scratch mithril. Well, you never stop learning.

A few hours later, I arrived at a hill that was, according to my map, the location of Camp Ales. And indeed, my usual approach of storming up the hillside was met with fierce resistance. Futile, but fierce.

The bandits were not half as stupid as I thought at first. They had divided the parts amongst several camps all throughout the region. I would be in for a long day.


I cannot stress how mindbogglingly monotonous County Kvatch is. It is boring enough that it is neccessary to use long words to describe it. You have a lot of time thinking up these words when travelling there.

Unless you are looking for your horse. Which I managed to misplace several times while scouting out the crest of a hill, hunting deer or generally stretching my legs.

It took me two days. But I can confidently say, I have been to every. Single. Hill. In County Kvatch. Seriously. I took up etching 'Belenor was here' into larger rocks to make sure I would not search the same hill twice. Ought to be fun watching future archaeologists trying to figure this one out.

Back in Imperial City, Bothiel immediately began the repairs so I would see the repaired orrery before setting off again. Although I offered my help, she politely declined. Too bad. My autograph on a celestial body could be worth an incredible sum of gold sometime.


I have to give it to her, though. The orrery is one fascinating machine. A huge dome, with the Dwarven construction in the centre, it is an impressive piece of work. Even more impressice as I was allowed to pull the lever that set it in motion.


Having camped in the middle of nothing more often than I care for, I was amazed by the activated orrery. It is as if one stood on top of the tallest mountain and gazed into the clear night sky. Granted, I have the same view whenever I visit Frostcrag Spire, but the shops and pubs are much closer here.

More on amazing bodies - celestial and otherwise, how to play 'King of the Hill' against Minotaurs and my struggle with the Imperial Merchants Union coming soon.

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Nightmares on Anvil street

In order to keep a close eye on the harbour in Anvil, I decided to buy a house in the city. When I heard that a decent sized manor was for sale at only five thousand goldpieces, all I could think of was how much gold that would save me.

I really should have read the fineprint.




Benirus Manor sits at a prime spot in Anvil, near the chapel and overlooking the statue and lake. Sure, it is a bit run down, but nothing that a few days work cannot change. The current owner, Velwyn Benirus, agreed to sell it for a mere five thousand gold, which is very cheap, compared to the prices in other cities.


Having seen the house, I could not really understand his decision to sell it, but I was happy. It is close to the Mages Guild and in a location that allows me to watch all the comings and goings at the city gates.


The interior, however, is just as run down as the outside. My estimate is that it has been several years since anybody lived here. That would also explain the cheap price.

With a plan and a shopping list in mind, I went to bed.

Now, I do not want to assume anything. Really. But the fact that the manor is haunted by malevolent spirits also may have had something to do with the price.

Fortunately, my weapons are never far out of reach, so I was able to defend myself. As soon as the threat was gone, I took another quick tour of the house. And found, in a broken vase, a skeletal hand, still clutching a page of an old journal.


Down in the basement, that I had not bothered to visit previously (a mistake it turned out, there was quite a collection of the finest old wines there), I spotted arcane symbols on a wall. Try as I might, I could not figure them out, but they had the look of a portal.

What is it with me and magical portals?

It seems that the original owner, Lord Benirus, dabbled in the dark arts of necromancy and tried to become immortal. With his hand in hand, I hurried over to the inn where Velwyn was staying. But I was too late.

He had already left for Imperial City, the very minute the deed for the house changed hands. So he knew about the haunting. And now, I was a little bit cranky.

Not stopping, I arrived at Imperial City early the next day. Here, my reputation as Champion of the Empire was the strongest and quite helpful. The city watch pointed me in the right direction and soon I sat down next to a surprised Velywn Benirus.

He knew about the haunting. And with the information I learned from the journal, he also was the only one that could stop it.


Back in Anvil, we agreed upon a plan of action. He would try and open the portal in the basement, while I did what I do best - keep the bad guys from killing some clueless, helpless guy that might or might not be our only hope. Even it is only the hope for a decent nights sleep.


Indeed, as soon as we entered the manor, the spirits attacked from all sides, apparently knowing where we were headed. Nevertheless, we pushed forward. Ignoring the ones that did not stand in our direct way, I only drove back the others. In the final room, Velwyn frantically tried to open the portal, while I fought several spirits in the confined space of the basement.


Just as I thought about the irony of surviving Oblivion only to be killed in my own house, the spirits vanished. Velwyn had opened the portal. And run for the hills.

Cautiously, I entered the next room. It looked like a necromancers lair, and on an altar in the middle of it I could see the skeleton of Lord Benirus.


I was about to fetch myself a big hammer in order to solve this problem, when the booming voce of Lord Benirus sounded in the room. He was sorry about all the inconvenience and wanted nothing more than eternal rest. Preferably with both his hand attached to his skeleton.

Someday, I promise, I will stop listening to all those voices in my head.


He had indeed achieved immortality as a Lich. For about as long as it took me to draw my trusty Magebane and hack him into more pieces than I can count.

About half a minute, I would say.

More on fluorescent lichen, my latest attempt at interior decorating and why not to visit haunted manors on Tuesdays coming soon.

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Lessons In History

Welcome dear reader to another column of the Black Horse Couriers 'Belenors Historic Babble'. This time, we follow the footsteps of the Hero of Kvatch to Crowhaven. Expecting the solution to the Great Arrow Conspiracy, Belenor was surprised by what he found on a dark and stormy night.



As you may or may not recall, I set out from Anvil, determined to follow the trail of the merchandise that had left the Black Dreugh. A simple plan. One that even Priority could understand.

Instead of explaining my intricate plans to my horse, I should have paid attention to the map. Or maybe I should give up navigating entirely and just let Priority wander. It is what he is best at anyway.


After stumbling through several fields and then quickly gallopping away before the farmers' pitchforks could reach me, I arrived at the ruin that seemed to me the perfect spot for my investigations. Crowhaven.

How is it, that places that look quite cosy - even romantic - by day suddenly take on a dark and ominous feeling at dusk? Right. Probably because they truly are dark, foreboding and ominous. Several undead archers pointing their arrows (The gods only know where they got them from. Probably still the ones from their last life.) at me also did nothing to make me feel welcome.

However, where there are archers and arrows, there has to be a clue.

In the midst of the battle, I lost track of Priority, who had charged mercilessly - and foolishly - into the fray. In panic, I dispatched the remaining enemies. Only to discover that he had found a nice spot on the first floor of the ruin, chewing on some ferns that grew there.

Some day, that horse is going to give me a heart attack.


I ventured forth into the dark dungeon. It was deserted, except for rats. I hate rats. They remind me of prison.



No leads for arrows were to be found. All that I found were several coffins in niches in the wall of a cave. Not exactly my choice of decoration, if you ask me. But it put me on my toes. Skeletons, coffins, a dark dungeon in a gloomy ruin at night... I read adventure novels too, you know. They are always good for escaping the dreary everyday life in Cyrodiil.


The last sign that I needed to know that this was not, in fact, a Goblin lair, were several rooms fitted with the finest furniture money could buy a century ago.

Barely able to prepare myself, I was attacked by the owner of the place. Quite spry for his age and also quite undead. Fortunately he did not have any experience with intruders in his place, for he was armed with nothing but a glass dagger.

Weapons made of glass? What will they think of next, I ask you?


While searching the place, I came upon the journal of the very late lord of the castle. Skimming over the pages, it detailed a quite immoral affair that, with my limited knowledge of the city, could be traced to the current champion of the Arena in Imperial City.


Looking from the top of Crowhaven back to Anvil, I think I will bring this journal with me. The Courier already asked for an interview and I think maybe I should get my own column. This journal would be the perfect start. Hunting down all sorts of historic places and rumours, I can imagine that it will be a great hit. And it might make me some money.

More on obsessive-compulsive editors, why full plate is not considered 'light armour' even if it glows in the dark and a special appearance by Mehrunes 'Weakest Link' Dagon coming soon.

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