Prologue and Arrival in Anvil
It's not even evening and I've killed three people already!
I'm sorry, but I needed to get that off my chest. Finally I'm able to write again! I'm lying low in Tamriel after the scandal at the Legion HQ and have only this afternoon arrived by ship on the mainland, in the south-western port city of Anvil. I thought I might as well look for my half-sister Estelle as something to do while in exile.
Yes, I'm exiled, more or less. To protect Lexie's station at the Legion, I asked her to dishonourably discharge me. That way, Lexie (actually, "Captain Lex"; although her soldiers often referred to her fondly as "Sexy Lexie") could politically distance herself from me and whatever our liaisons had ultimately caused. Making friends and deepening meaningful relationships (with or without rolling around in bed, mind you) has always served me well, and at the Imperial Legion, Captain Lex was not only a lovely friend with benefits but one with some clout and connection. I never shirked my Legion duties, of course, but Lexie managed to get me more frequently on schmoozing assignments like escorting bigwigs--which my friendly and social nature predisposed me anyway. Only rubbish politics from jealous parties ruined it all for everyone. Now the VIPs are stuck with socially awkward backwater hicks as their guard details.
So I must admit that making the "right friends" isn't foolproof, but I remain stubbornly convinced it's a more pleasant way through life -- There's always a warm smile and a warm bed in every city and port.
Still, I had to leave everything behind and hopped on the first ship to a promising destination. Well, my mother, who's a bit getting on in years, will have good use of my things and my modest city apartment. I lucked out running into a wonderful painter at the docks by the name of Astia Inventius, and arranged for a few portraits to accompany my letter home to dear mum. She never was the type to want to travel, and now in her declining years, it was even less likely she would take it up. It cost quite a bit of my dwindling coin (even after she generously offered a "friends and family discount" following a wonderful get-to-know-you chat 'n chew at a harbour cafe -- and no, I did NOT bed the married woman, her complaints about her hides-from-housework husband notwithstanding) but those paintings of Anvil would, I'm sure, be a delightful treat for her.
Anvil is a remarkably spacious city for a busy port and one of the Empire's larger cities. The people seem happy here, and I'm glad to have landed here first. By day's end I was still of that opinion, though I'd had to kill three people before I could take in a late lunch -- that's more action than I ever saw in the Legion in a busy month! But I'm getting ahead of myself.
As my previous set of memoirs were left behind, I ought to set down a few facts about myself in case -- as is my wistful hope -- these personal scribblings one way become published into into a best-selling series of novels. (Well, one CAN dream, can one not?)
So, my dear reader, my time in the Legion I've already mentioned. It lasted only a couple of years, I'm afraid. We did some good defending the loyal citizens of the Empire, and I learned a thing or two about swinging a sword and shooting a bow. Even had a brief stint roughing it with the Imperial Rangers raiding bandit hideouts.
Something else you ought to know is a peculiar condition of mine -- commonly termed stunted magic (gods, I hate that word -- "stunted"). In ways still not entirely clear to me though it was explained several times by expert astrologers, a certain alignment of stars at the time I was born makes magic difficult for me. Not to grasp, but to actually cast. So I'm well out of practice, you can imagine, despite the many perilous times on Legion duty when it would have come very much in handy. Quaffing certain potions to reinvigorate myself was a recommended fix and early on I toyed with the idea of alchemy, but the promise of travel and adventure sidetracked me into the Imperial Legion. Even with Lexie on my side, proper opportunities to practice were few -- and when those appeared, I admit I was always more keen on being with Lexie (No, not just sleeping with her -- I hope you haven't gotten the idea that I just want to boink every warm-blooded woman I meet. Which I do. But, well, it's not the be all and end all, you understand).
Along with the peculiar deficiency was also an interesting condition where, on occasion, I would absorb an enchantment cast on me. It was quite random, but when it happens, it can be both handy and spectacular. Even the most awesome spell that could blow all the meat off a minotaur in a single blast can be rendered as harmless as funny sparkling light. In all seriousness I tell you it's saved my life a few times while I was out with the Rangers. One of the reasons I applied for a transfer well before my first stint with them was up.
I'm sorry, but I needed to get that off my chest. Finally I'm able to write again! I'm lying low in Tamriel after the scandal at the Legion HQ and have only this afternoon arrived by ship on the mainland, in the south-western port city of Anvil. I thought I might as well look for my half-sister Estelle as something to do while in exile.
Yes, I'm exiled, more or less. To protect Lexie's station at the Legion, I asked her to dishonourably discharge me. That way, Lexie (actually, "Captain Lex"; although her soldiers often referred to her fondly as "Sexy Lexie") could politically distance herself from me and whatever our liaisons had ultimately caused. Making friends and deepening meaningful relationships (with or without rolling around in bed, mind you) has always served me well, and at the Imperial Legion, Captain Lex was not only a lovely friend with benefits but one with some clout and connection. I never shirked my Legion duties, of course, but Lexie managed to get me more frequently on schmoozing assignments like escorting bigwigs--which my friendly and social nature predisposed me anyway. Only rubbish politics from jealous parties ruined it all for everyone. Now the VIPs are stuck with socially awkward backwater hicks as their guard details.
So I must admit that making the "right friends" isn't foolproof, but I remain stubbornly convinced it's a more pleasant way through life -- There's always a warm smile and a warm bed in every city and port.
Still, I had to leave everything behind and hopped on the first ship to a promising destination. Well, my mother, who's a bit getting on in years, will have good use of my things and my modest city apartment. I lucked out running into a wonderful painter at the docks by the name of Astia Inventius, and arranged for a few portraits to accompany my letter home to dear mum. She never was the type to want to travel, and now in her declining years, it was even less likely she would take it up. It cost quite a bit of my dwindling coin (even after she generously offered a "friends and family discount" following a wonderful get-to-know-you chat 'n chew at a harbour cafe -- and no, I did NOT bed the married woman, her complaints about her hides-from-housework husband notwithstanding) but those paintings of Anvil would, I'm sure, be a delightful treat for her.
Anvil is a remarkably spacious city for a busy port and one of the Empire's larger cities. The people seem happy here, and I'm glad to have landed here first. By day's end I was still of that opinion, though I'd had to kill three people before I could take in a late lunch -- that's more action than I ever saw in the Legion in a busy month! But I'm getting ahead of myself.
As my previous set of memoirs were left behind, I ought to set down a few facts about myself in case -- as is my wistful hope -- these personal scribblings one way become published into into a best-selling series of novels. (Well, one CAN dream, can one not?)
So, my dear reader, my time in the Legion I've already mentioned. It lasted only a couple of years, I'm afraid. We did some good defending the loyal citizens of the Empire, and I learned a thing or two about swinging a sword and shooting a bow. Even had a brief stint roughing it with the Imperial Rangers raiding bandit hideouts.
Something else you ought to know is a peculiar condition of mine -- commonly termed stunted magic (gods, I hate that word -- "stunted"). In ways still not entirely clear to me though it was explained several times by expert astrologers, a certain alignment of stars at the time I was born makes magic difficult for me. Not to grasp, but to actually cast. So I'm well out of practice, you can imagine, despite the many perilous times on Legion duty when it would have come very much in handy. Quaffing certain potions to reinvigorate myself was a recommended fix and early on I toyed with the idea of alchemy, but the promise of travel and adventure sidetracked me into the Imperial Legion. Even with Lexie on my side, proper opportunities to practice were few -- and when those appeared, I admit I was always more keen on being with Lexie (No, not just sleeping with her -- I hope you haven't gotten the idea that I just want to boink every warm-blooded woman I meet. Which I do. But, well, it's not the be all and end all, you understand).
Along with the peculiar deficiency was also an interesting condition where, on occasion, I would absorb an enchantment cast on me. It was quite random, but when it happens, it can be both handy and spectacular. Even the most awesome spell that could blow all the meat off a minotaur in a single blast can be rendered as harmless as funny sparkling light. In all seriousness I tell you it's saved my life a few times while I was out with the Rangers. One of the reasons I applied for a transfer well before my first stint with them was up.
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