11 - Victoria - The Brina Cross Murderess:

My first stop was, of course, the shops, it was now early afternoon and they were yet open. When I say 'all', that means maybe two in this town; and only one of interest - the traders shop in the harbour side district. Idly browsing my cluttered inventory en route, I realised that I had overestimated my fortune, which upon re-examination stood at a mere seventeen hundred gold. I was also beginning to doubt the value of the silver, hoping instead that the mess of ingredients I had collected might amount to something.

I still had the Welkyd stones I had collected from the Elven Ruin a number of days ago, and until now had paid them little thought. Holding one now I concentrated upon it, attempting to deduce what use the glowing stone might have, if any. A sense of raw magic power emanated - yet it felt contained. Closing my eyes and exploring the stone with my magical abilities I realised that with but a mental nudge this containment barrier could be breached - unleashing a flood of magicka into the immediate surroundings. Such a breach would of course render the stone useless thereafter, and I wondered how they had gained their power. Perhaps the barrier acted as a kind of one way filter, with the stones slowly absorbing ambient power from their surroundings, or perhaps they collected the lost energies of spent castings. Such theories were of course entirely hypothetical, for the secret of the stones manufacture had been lost with the departure of their creators. Still, I felt that it was entirely possible that, breaching a stones barrier, I could regain my own spent magical resources in the brief magicka shower. Such might prove extremely handy in situations such as the Arena, which I now had every intention of returning to, and so I decided that these items at least, would not be for sale.

Unfortunately, I had been correct in my estimation of the value of the silver, for upon selling everything I felt I had no need for (including the silver) I held a mere four hundred coin greater than when I had entered. Would the ingredients then provide a better source of income? I decided to make what potions and poisons I could from what I had collected right there and then, garnering some strange looks from the shop keeper as I set up my alchemy equipment upon a nearby bench and upended my pack – showering the floor with all manor of rare and dangerous reagents. I remained there for some time, working continually, until at last I had created the thirty fourth and final potion. The shop keeper had watched me throughout, but had not interfered – it seemed he had received no business that day, and so my eccentric actions could hardly cause him to lose custom. Besides, he surely knew that, judging from the array of source ingredients, many of these potions would practically sell themselves. Despite this I received only a further three hundred and fifty coin for all the created potions, leaving me with slightly under two thousand five hundred; no where near enough to even consider buying that manor.

Walking now upon the shoreline, I gave some thought to my situation. The manor seemed beyond my grasp, and even if I did scrape together enough to cover it I would be doing so to the detriment of my long term advancement. Perhaps I would postpone the purchase until such a time as I had established myself, and gained a source of income. I was also painfully aware from the dull ache in my legs that Anvil was a town on the very periphery of Cyrodiil – and was thus not conveniently located for me to be able to visit it easily considering the distances involved - and the likely need for activities around the capital itself. The more thought I gave, the greater the disadvantages appeared, for walking to and from the Imperial City was a great distance, measured in days. Further, I travelled light, and currently had little in need of permanent storage. I realised now that I could only purchase this residence once I had secured a fast means of transport, and indeed such would be useful as a catalyst for my other activities. With this in mind I decided to pay a visit to the Horse Whisperer Stables, located just outside the main gate.

Upon reaching the stables I approached a Redgaurd, who informed me I should enquire inside the stable regarding buying horses. Judging from the enclosed paddock, white horses appeared to be the variant on offer here. Asking inside I discovered the horses cost four thousand gold, causing my heart to sink. Apparently the white horses are hardier than any other, however I was informed that there was a faster breed; the black horses of Cheydinhal. Personally, I would prefer to purchase the fastest horse around – and had little plans for my steed to become involved in any fighting. Besides, with such speed I doubted that anyone could even touch us. A horse is also a long term investment, and so I did not wish to waste money on an inferior breed. Besides, who wanted a white horse? Not I. Or at least not for that price.

Cheydinhal then would be my next 'port of call', although unlike Anvil it is far from the coast – lying as it does near the borders of the Morrowind district. The distance between here and there is essentially the longest single distance between two town in Cyrodiil, as the cliff racer flys. With this in mind I decided that I could not afford to waste my time here, and, the afternoon already late, entered the Anvil guild hall in search of my next reference to the Arcane Univrsity.

Carhil, the Altmer guild head, did indeed have a task for me which would, upon successful completion, 'earn' me her reference. How I detest leaping through these hoops, yet I have a long way to go before my powers reach their potential, and so I affected a patient expression, nodding in all the right places and doing my best to appear sincere.

The task, such as it was, involved acting as bait to a rogue mage who had been murdering traders travelling along the gold trail. Carahil claimed that I was the perfect choice as, being new, I was 'less likely to be recognised as one of their number' (that being the mages guild), however I think rather it is that as a new member I am considered disposable. If I happened to die then her purposes would still be achieved, for her hidden battle mages would have the murderer revealed to them – and the elitism of the 'Arcane University' would be maintained.

Enquiring further regarding the murders, Carahil revealed that those found dead appeared to have been killed by magical frost, before reluctantly handing over a few scrolls to protect me from elemental cold. Perhaps the miser thought she were doing me a service, but one look at the scrolls revealed their uselessness to me, for they would cut but one tenth of the damage. The wasted time it would take enacting these very wards would likely do more harm than they would prevent, and so I mentally assigned the scrolls to the 'sale' pile, before departing Anvil for the Brina Cross Inn.

It was by now early evening as I walked along the path, the objective being to make myself known as a trader, as well as make contact with the battle mages who would follow me from the shadows, - striding forth in the 'hopeful' event (from my beloved guild heads perspective) of the murderer attempting to assail me.

Spotting a mine off the path, I gave it a brief investigation. It was a strange place, for I encountered no life, or indeed unlife. Yet food lay upon tables and fires still burned. It was perhaps even more unnerving than the occupied caverns I had previously explored. This alone would not have halted my exploration, but the rewards were pitiful, and so having explored the majority of the complex I simply departed, feeling I was wasting my time. At least against foes, no matter how inane, you are gaining experience – here I was simply practising impatience and time wasting.

Returning to the path I continued onwards, only to be interrupted by a Khajiit 'highwaycat', who appeared to be under the delusion that he could intimidate me into paying him – or defeat me if I did not comply. I disappointed him on both counts, shredding him using only my summoned Daedric dagger, for I was in a foul mood. Besides, it made a change from using magic and letting my minions take care of the melee.

I left the corpse without even the dignity of a search (although I suppose some might consider such an action an indignity for the deceased, I personally believe that it implies that I think there is the possibility, however slight, that they have something I could conceivably want – a compliment in my mind) – and before long I sighted the Brina Cross.

The incident with the cat had allowed me to vent my frustrations and I knew I needed to concentrate in the upcoming events, for deliberately making myself a target to a known skilled mage was a little different from getting the drop on people from the shadows. Realising I must play the role of a merchant, I packed my hood, bow and quiver out of sight, before entering the tavern, looking – presumably, something like a merchant.

Entering, I had a brief word with Arielle Jerard, one of my 'protectors' for the coming day, who said she would catch me in private later. From here on I did my best to advertise the fact I was a trader, first to the barkeeper, and later in conversation with a woman named Caminalda – who expressed an interest in my route, although ostensibly affecting fear at taking it herself. She wore a blue dress that I rather liked the look of, as it might allow me to mingle better in certain instances; for although I am fond of my travel stained robes I realise that they are perhaps not appropriate in certain contexts. I suspected she might indeed be the murderer herself, and indeed rather hoped it – for that would be a convenient way to claim her clothes for myself. Wondering idly if I was the only person in Tamriel to think in such practical terms, I ascended to my room, where I discovered Arielle was waiting for me. She had little to say beyond that her and a fellow mage would follow from a distance and aid me if I were assailed; and following her departure I relaxed upon my bed, lying awake for a time before losing consciousness at perhaps three in the morning.

I would be damned if I would hurry up for the others, besides, I'm supposed to be a trader – and presumably an apparently lazy trader would cause my assailant to underestimate me all the more. Therefore I lay in bed comfortably until past nine, when I finally took my leave of the Inn - waving away the concerns and warnings of the Inn keeper with an apparently arrogant disregard. My brief glance around the bar revealed no sign of Caminalda, so perhaps she was still in bed, or had left before me – in which case there was a chance I would see her in due course. Considering she had claimed to be too afraid to leave the Inn yesterday I suppose I could have asked the Inn keeper if she had departed, which would have dispelled any doubts regarding her true identity, but ultimately I decided not to – for one it would ruin the surprise, and beyond that it could damage my whole 'clueless trader' identity.

My two mage protectors stood outside, and while appearing to ignore them (in case I was being watched) I gave the new arrival a glance. He stood larger than Arielle, and was obviously a battle mage – for both Arielle and he were in their full regalia – hardly subtle. Worse, they followed me out of the Inn gate in plain sight of anyone watching, and I was left merely hoping that their incompetence would not ruin what, to me at least, seemed a rather fragile plan. Certainly my attempt at appearing unfamiliar would now be to no avail, if any had indeed watched.

They moved to either side of the path behind the bushes, flanking me as I walked. I had remained un hooded and ostensibly unarmed, and now did my best to ignore any fears that crept into my mind. How would the attack come? Would the first I would know of it be the blast of a paralyzation spell from a hidden grove, or perhaps the mage would simply attempt an immediate coup de gras by unleashing the destructive ice magic which had killed the traders?

Expecting the unexpected, I was nevertheless stumped by the form the attack took. Stumped not by any particular cunning however, but by the blatant stupidity, the unforgivable foolishness, the sheer arrogance of it – for the murderess mage merely jumped into plain view. Not content with losing the element of surprise she further proved her ineptness by engaging me in conversation – saying she was going to kill me, as she had the other traders. She? Yes indeed, the very she whose dress I had so admired at the Inn.

Her presumptuous gloating over, she began back peddling and initiated a spell of summoning, which I matched with my own. Even now I had some thought that surely, surely this arrogance must have some basis in power – yet the summon was no Daedra Lord, nor even a Scamp for that matter, but a humble skeleton, who would be no match for my zombie, or even a spirited peasant for that matter...

My heroic rescuers chose this moment to intervene, having perhaps concluded that the assailant was sufficiently benign as to not even require the distraction I could provide. Caminadala might be known for her elemental cold, but it achieved little here, and ultimately my characteristic bolt of electricity proved her downfall. Maybe I should take up merchant killing? If an idiot such as she could get away with it then it could hardly be that hard. Besides, I felt that I could handle any battle mages who were sent my way – if they were of my 'rescuers' calibre at least.

Claiming the blue dress and matching shoes for myself, I left her body face down in the dirt as I turned back towards Anvil – my hood and bow now back in place. Coming across the cat's corpse on the way back, I amused myself through levitating the battle axe in front of me, before finally leaving it on the way side as I approached Anvil.

Returning to the mages guild, Carahil provided the second of the seven references for the Arcane University. From her words it seemed she underestimated my role in bringing about the completion of this mission, for in reality I could have accomplished it alone, ultimately however being underestimated is perhaps for the best. It's certainly what I'm used to, and I do so like to surprise...