Arrival In Stros M'Kai

Pirate 1: "Get below" is what the Pirate said to the wet-earred knave before him.

Pirate 2: The Restless League is claiming this cargo.

Pirate 1: Said the other with cruel, cruel clarity.

Cyrus: It probably wouldn't make any difference if I told you I had no time for this.

Pirate 2: This is about Redguard honor, boy. Stand aside.

Pirate 1: Yes, a doubtful notion it is, piracy and politics, but there you have it.

Cyrus: Never been much for politics. In my days, piracy was honest work.

The Pirates approached Cyrus.

Pirate 2: Don't be a hero, boy.

Cyrus: Where's the money in that?

Cyrus took out his sword.

Pirate 1: And verily they were impressed by his bravery, for a scant few seconds.

This is where the player gets control. I, as the player, defeated the two Pirates onboard the ship, after which a cutscene began, in which Brennan, the Redguard Captain, came back on deck.

Brennan: Cyrus!

Cyrus: Captain, good to see you back in command.

Brennan: Ah... Please call me Brennan. You disposed of those ruffians so quickly I had no time to retrieve my sword from my cabin.

Cyrus: That so, hm?

Brennan: Look! Over there!

The camera approached the Pirate ship, showing four Pirates. One of them, whose name I would later find out was Vander, was clearly annoyed. The Pirate ship eventually left.

Brennan: Let us move on, before more show up.

A short cutscene showed how Brennan's ship entered the Harbor of Stros M'Kai. Once I regained control, I went and talked to Brennan.

Brennan: Ah, Cyrus. And how do you do?

Cyrus: Brennan, can I have a minute?

Brennan: Anything for your like, Cyrus.

Cyrus: I am looking for my sister, Iszara. Perhaps you have heard of her?

Brennan: I'm afraid not. Before the Empire cleaned things up, Stros M'Kai was a Pirate haven, avoided by honest merchants like myself.

Cyrus: It seems the Empire has not eliminated all the Pirates from Stros M'Kai.

Brennan: Apparently so. They've become bold, attacking a ship so far into Hunding Bay. But give it time, the Empire has only been here for a few months.

Cyrus: The Pirates who attacked us spoke of a "Restless League". Have you heard of them?

Brennan: Other Captains tell me that the remaining banditti have organized themselves against the Empire's crackdown on smuggling and piracy.

Cyrus: How has Stros M'Kai fared under its new Imperial masters?

Brennan: The locals are still chafing at the bit, but in time, they will come to appreciate the benefits of membership in the Empire.

Cyrus: That so, hm? I am meeting a friend at the Draggin Tale. Can you direct me?

Brennan: I can't recommend it, but it's the only drink-hole in this godsforsaken town. Up the bridge you see to the right, through the gate to the town square. You'll see the sign.

Cyrus: The Empire has done well in its conquest of Hammerfell, you think?

Brennan: Absolutely. No offense, but Hammerfell is in need of some law and order.

Cyrus: Thanks. We'll talk later.

As I walked off Brennan's ship, I noticed the statue of Frandar Hunding towering above me, its base in the water.

I saw a Redguard woman walking around the Harbor, so I went and talked to her.

Siona: Hey, sailor.

Cyrus: May I trouble you for a moment, my lady?

Siona: Lady, you say? You must be new in town! Besides, Siona would have remembered you.

Cyrus: Cyrus, at your service. Do you know a young lady named Iszara? My sister, last seen over three months ago.

Siona: Iszara, yes, I see the family resemblance. Can't say I know her, though. She was all caught up in them troubles we had when the young Prince was killed.

Cyrus: What is news around Stros M'Kai these days?

Siona: That it's best to keep your mouth shut, or end up in the catacombs. Or worse.

Cyrus: Have you heard anything about a group called the Restless League?

Siona: They claim to fight the Empire, but seem more interested in plunder, from what I can tell. They make a point to forebears, though, so I guess they aren't all bad.

Cyrus: A friend is meeting me at the Draggin Tale. Do you know it?

Siona: Sure, Siona knows it all right. Used to be a favorite of mine till that damn lizard barkeep got all high an' mighty on me... Does this friend have a name?

Cyrus: Tobias. Do you know him?

Siona: Did Hunding hate Goblins? Course I know him! One of my best customers, and I'm no lie. Any friend of Tobias is a friend of Siona. I'll be happy to help you out any way I can.

Cyrus: This lizard barkeep... An Argonian?

Siona: Don't know his politics, but that Dreekius is a damn nuisance to us working girls. Pretentions of grandeur, he has. Nobody but Forebears in there now, anyway, and I wouldn't catch their get for any cart o' coin.

Cyrus: You don't care for Dreekius, then?

Siona: Well, he's not a bad sort for a lizard, him and me just don't see eye-to-eye on the friendship of the thighs, so to speak. But he knows anyone who's anyone on this island, no mistake.

Cyrus: These catacombs -- Some kind of a dungeon?

Siona: That's where fatboy tosses any Crowns he can catch. Under the Palace -- Where the Dragon lives.

Cyrus: A Dragon lives in the catacombs?

Siona: That's how fatboy beat the Crowns. The Imperials, at least, think the Dragon's still down there, layin' about on the royal sea o' coin.

Cyrus: Maybe you can help me. Tell me more about the recent "troubles" in Stros M'Kai.

Siona: You know, the civil war between the Crowns and the Forebears. You really aren't from around here, are you?

Cyrus: Tell me more about the Crowns.

Siona: They supported Prince A'Tor after his father died. True Redguard patriots, more's the pity.

Cyrus: What of these Forebears. Who are they?

Siona: Forebears! Pah! And they call me a whore! Sold out the Prince and left us with the streets full-a foreign Soldiers and not an honest ring to any heel.

Cyrus: Was my sister involved in the civil war in some way?

Siona: Well, I don't want to spread gossip, especially not to her brother, but they say she was friends with the Prince. Good friends, ya know? So it's no wonder she disappeared when fatboy came to town.

Cyrus: Fatboy?

Siona: Sorry. I mean, his Imperial highness, Provisional Governor Lord Richton.

Cyrus: The Prince -- What happened to him?

Siona: A'Tor was murdered by the Imperials, that's what. Nice young man, too, not too proud to tip his hat to Siona, either. Ah, what a shame, what a shame.

Cyrus: Tell me about this Richton.

Siona: He's a bad one, he is. Siona can tell. Invited me up to the Palace once, but I won't be back. Maybe Siona is not a fine lady, be she is an honest working girl, and doesn't like being treated like dirt. And she definitely doesn't like being watched by that sneaking, prick-eared shadow.

Cyrus: Who is this shadow you speak of?

Siona: Fatboy's pet assassin, Dram. A ghoul from furthest Morrowind, they say. Those red eyes of his, watching me... No, Siona won't be back to the Palace, not for all the coin in Hammerfell.

Cyrus: Where is the governor's Palace?

Siona: The poor dead Prince's Palace, you mean. Just keep climbing up the hall, you can't miss it. But don't expect to sneak your way in.

Cyrus: We'll talk later. Be careful.

After talking to Siona, I went and talked to an old Redguard man who was also walking around the Harbor.

Trithik: Well...?

Cyrus: Hello, my name is Cyrus.

Trithik: And mine is Trithik, lad.

Cyrus: I'm looking for my sister, Iszara. Perhaps you've seen her?

Trithik: I do not know the name. But so many have been lost since the Dragon arrived.

Cyrus: She went missing about three months ago.

Trithik: If she was with the Crowns, I would count her among the casualties. Richton's slaughter was elegant only in its thoroughness.

Cyrus: Perhaps I should speak to this Richton, then.

Trithik: Spoken true, my boy, but I'd advise against it. The Imperials suffer no Redguards in the Palace, unless you're Forebear, and you walk on too few legs to be that.

Cyrus: So I can't get into the Palace, then?

Trithik: Not unless you can produce something that Richton will desire.

Cyrus: This Dragon -- An Imperial metaphor, perhaps...?

Trithik: Banner and bone, young Redguard. Seek the Old Quarter if you want to see the handiwork of both.

Cyrus: What happened to the Old Quarter?

Trithik: It was the last stand of the loyalist Corwns, and governor Richton had it destroyed. It smolders still, all ash and dragonfire. Few escaped the incident.

Cyrus: What do the Imperials plan to do here?

Trithik: Confusion often follows conquering, but if Septim does have a plan for Hammerfell it hasn't been made clear. I suspect a greater plan than constant terror, for Richton has men all about the island, not just here in Stros M'Kai.

Cyrus: Has Tiber Septim made the Crowns suffer much for their resistance?

Trithik: Through his agents, yes, but I fear that the Provisional Governor is an especially wicked feast to swallow. The blood has slowed to a trickle, if only for lack of targets, and the Crowns who survive still remain silent.

Cyrus: Can a Redguard not even admit his allegiance to the Crowns openly?

Trithik: I can't speak for the rest of Hammerfell but such an admission here is martyrdom at best. A persecution of silence reigns in Stros M'Kai.

Cyrus: Tell me of the Forebears.

Trithik: Throne-defilers, all. Hosts to the invader, and Hunding's shame.

Cyrus: The ship that brought me here was beset upon by some rascals called the Restless League. What do you know of them?

Trithik: They were the necessary cancer of a nation divided and at war. Grown at the borders where the kingdom's skin is most contested by the foreign sword-- Fearless men, whose names are all too often breathed in hate.

Cyrus: Hmmm.

Trithik: Don't believe them too wrong, for even the Prince had their ear.

Cyrus: What did the Imperials do to the Prince?

Trithik: A'Tor was slain at sea, and there his body was lost, thankfully. Already the obligatory prophecy of his return has begun, spoken in hush, an ill surrogate for true hope this season. The Redguard should know better, be blind to desperate omen. Thassad's son has left us, wind-swift and sadly, never to return.

Cyrus: So A'Tor had dealings with the Restless League, then?

Trithik: Never openly, for then even the Crowns thought the League untrustworthy. Now they are Hammerfell's last hope. A'Tor's death sent them into hiding, and dragonfire keeps them there.

Cyrus: How can you be thankful that Prince A'Tor's body was lost at sea?

Trithik: Insofar that the seabed may claim him before the necromancer does, that is all. That his soul may rest easy from the snare surround.

Cyrus: Tell me about the necromancer.

Trithik: A westward evil, aseat in the ash-gray shoals. On parade now that the Empire's here, lad, so don't die.

Cyrus: What is the "snare surround"?

Trithik: The necromancer's curse, writhing in the near-here, only a death away. Its magic snatches at your soul should you perish, to fuel some darker deed still.

Cyrus: Should I fear death more than normal, then?

Trithik: The snare waits for those who don't.

Cyrus: How far west are the shoals?

Trithik: Not a day's journey. Just follow the path over the bridge.

Cyrus: It seems quiet here, especially for a port-city. How fares Stros M'Kai under Imperial rule?

Trithik: Defeat is read in every native face, my boy. The war cost the city much, including its voice. The Crowns are no more, as kingless as Yokuda, lost now to song which no one will sing, lest Richton hear. Overmuch, the governor is the reason Stros M'Kai is so quiet.

Cyrus: I have not heard mention of Yokuda since my childhood.

Trithik: The first land, where the Redguards came from, in blessed Hunding's day.

Cyrus: I saw the statue of Hunding on my way into port. I'm surprised Richton hasn't levelled it yet.

Trithik: He cannot, or will not, for it keeps the Goblins out of Stros M'Kai, out and under it. Such is Frandar Hunding's grace that he blinds them still.

Cyrus: There are Goblins under Stros M'Kai?

Trithik: And worse, but you needn't worry about them. They are doomed to the dirt and bother the Redguard no more.

Cyrus: I fear that my sister's disappearance had something to do with the civil war...

Trithik: I read more than fear in your face, Redguard, either retribution or redemption. Alas, sometimes they are the same. Neither can come without wounds.

Cyrus: I said nothing about redemption or --

Trithik: Why else would you be here, in this narrative? In you--

Cyrus: How can the two be the same?

Trithik: In their concern for blood, in blood as closure. I assure you, it will be spilt before you find your sister. A prayer may do you well.

Cyrus: Where should I pray?

Trithik: At the temple of blessed Arkay. Brother Nidal presides there, and he knew most of the people in town. He may know something about your sister.

Cyrus: Where is the temple?

Trithik: In the town square, shoreside from the pool.

Cyrus: Thanks. Trithik. I've got to go.

After I spoke with Trithik, I saw a sign with a hammer hanging from a building in the Harbor. A Redguard man sat on the chair under the sign, his hands on a table.

Kotaro: Ahoy there, sailor! Can I have a word with you?

I decided to talk to him.

Kotaro: Greetings, stranger!

Cyrus: What can I do for you, friend?

Kotaro: The question is, what can I do for you! The young stranger in town, fearless, footloose and fancy-free, a little light of purse, perhaps. I have a proposition that may appeal. But first, allow me to introduce myself: Kotaro, Contractor of Stros M'Kai, at your service!

Cyrus: Cyrus. Charmed. I wonder if you know my sister, Iszara? I've come to Stros M'Kai to find out what's happened to her.

Kotaro: I'm afraid I don't know her. I'm just a simple working man! You might try Dreekius up at the Draggin' Tale. Pretty much everyone in Stros M'Kai passes through his door eventually.

Cyrus: Dreekius?

Kotaro: Our friendly local lizard, not that I have anything against him. Or her -- Whatever. Can't ever tell with those Argonians. Runs the Draggin Tale, the tavern on the town square.

Cyrus: What do you know about a group of ruffians calling themselves the Restless League?

Kotaro: Damn them and their bloody-minded ways! They've done more to ruin Stros M'Kai than the Forebears and Empire combined. If it weren't for them, this city would have been at peace months ago.

Cyrus: How is the Restless League responsible for ruining Stros M'Kai?

Kotaro: Burning or plundering half the cargoes headed for this port! Stirring up the Imperials to ever-more ruthless repression! The League don't seem to realize that the war is over, and they lost.

Cyrus: You're saying the League was allied with the Crowns?

Kotaro: Depends on who you ask. I don't know. I'm not one of your political gentlemen, always in someone else's business -- I'm just a poor working stiff. A bird in the hand is better, you know what they say, ha ha!

Cyrus: I haven't been in Hammerfell since before the war. How do you like being a citizen of the Empire?

Kotaro: Surely beats war, my young friend. I won't lie to you, though. Hard to find honest labor these days -- Forebears would rather smirk than lift, and the Crowns don't have the back for it anymore.

Cyrus: Sounds like the Crowns are taking their defeat pretty hard.

Kotaro: I've always stayed out of politics. Bad for business. Crown, Forebear, I don't care, as long as their coin is true! My philosophy is, what's done is done, live and let live, the grass is always greener, you know?

Cyrus: I guess the Forebears are still savoring victory in the civil war, eh?

Kotaro: You could say that. Although you might not want to say it in their faces. They're a touchy lot these days.

Cyrus: I've been up north for years, but I was pretty sure the Forebears won the war.

Kotaro: Of course they did! And the Forebears like to bust up the Draggin' Tale just in case anyone doubts it. Some ungenerous Crowns like to point out the Imperial flags flying over the Palace, and the Imperial Soldiers patrolling the streets. None of my concern, though, ha ha!

Cyrus: I'm supposed to meet a friend at the Draggin' Tale. Can you direct me?

Kotaro: The only watering hole in town! Follow the ramps uphill to the town square. A bit of friendly advice -- Watch your step. The Forebears are a touchy lot these days.

Cyrus: You call yourself a Contractor. What does that mean?

Kotaro: Over here, we have someone who needs something done. Over there, we have someone who is looking for work. How do they find each other? That's where I come in!

I knew that Kotaro had a quest for me, but I decided to do it later on.

Cyrus: We'll talk later.

While looking around the Harbor, I found a crate behind the building to the right of Kotaro. Climing on the crate allowed me to climb onto the building, from where I jumped onto a ledge on the building behind Kotaro. I climbed onto the building, and there I was able to reach the roof of the next building by walking on the ropes leading to it. Once I was on it, I was able to jump on the city wall and to follow it up to the back of Frandar Hunding's statue. There I found a hole leading into the statue, and in the statue I found the Talisman of Hunding.

I jumped into the water, after which I swam back to Stros M'Kai. Once I was back in the city's Harbor, I went into one of the Harbor towers, where I found stairs leading up and down. I initially went down the stairs and found a chest containing some gold, after which I went up the stairs and opened a door that led to the walkway connecting the two Harbor towers, a place with a great view of the Harbor and Marketplace.

I went to the other tower, where I found an old Redguard man sitting on a very tall chair with a telescope attached to it. I decided to speak with him.

Cyrus: Hello, sir. Sir? Sir, could I speak to you for a moment?

Prnell: Who's there? What do you want?

Cyrus: My name is Cyrus. I'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind.

Prnell: Mind? Why would I mind? I'm Prnell, by the way. Ask away, my boy!

Cyrus: Do you know my sister, Iszara?

Prnell: Iszara? And you're Cyrus, her brother! Of course. Probably look just like her, too, would've seen the family resemblance, but without my eyepiece, I'm afraid I can't get too good a look at you. You know, I haven't seen Iszara around in quite some time.

Cyrus: So you can't see without your eyepiece --

Prnell: I can see the galleons and spice-traders just fine with this spyglass! But other than that -- I mean, I can't very well walk around town holding a telescope up to my eye.

Cyrus: It might be kind of funny, though.

Prnell: I'm laughing even as we speak. Could you maybe find it for me, lad? It's a strange kind of loneliness when the beginnings of yet vision's at half a hundred yards.

Cyrus: I'll find it for you, Prnell. Don't worry. Have you heard of a group called the Restless League? My ship was attacked by a couple of them on the way here.

Prnell: That was you? I saw the whole thing, through my telescope you know. Not much of a battle, though. Ha, you really gave those ruffians what for! Wait a minute! Maybe the Restless League is after you, too. I wonder what Iszara could have done to get them so riled up?

Cyrus: Too'? Do you mean the Restless League is after my sister? Why didn't you say so before?

Prnell: You never said she was missing, Cyrus. This was months ago, anyway, and my memory ain't what it used to be. As I was saying, couple-a them boys came around, asking about her, but not respectful, like you. Gave me the hairy eyeball, trying to scare an old man. Don't believe anyone has the right to talk to me like that! No wonder they have such a bad reputation.

Cyrus: What did these Restless League fellows want to know?

Prnell: Just if I'd seen Iszara, let them know if I ever did. Ha! Like I'd tell them anything, after they come in here all threatening-like. Seemed to think she'd stolen something from them. If that's true, no wonder she's disappeared. Either they found her, or she's makin' sure they don't.

Cyrus: I thought the Restless League was outlawed. How would you contact them?

Prnell: You'll find out soon enough, the Smuggler's Den is hooked up with the League somehow. Not directly, or it'd be out of business by now, with Fatboy on a rampage. But I'm sure they could still get in touch with the League.

Cyrus: Where is this Smuggler's Den?

Prnell: Under Maiko's shop. But it ain't that simple. No one gets in without a password.

Cyrus: Do you know the password?

Prnell: Afraid not, Cyrus.

Cyrus: What kind of reputation does the League have?

Prnell: Terrorists, Pirates, all that. No doubt about it, they ain't to be trifled with. Fatboy found that out himself. But then, the Empire don't like to be messed with either.

Cyrus: The League is fighting against the Imperial occupation?

Prnell: They were. Not openly, like the Crowns, but that's never been the League way. Blowing up Richton's flagship, more in their line. Watched it burn from right here, an amazing sight. But what did it accomplish? The Empire's still here, and I haven't heard hide nor hair of the League until today.

Cyrus: How does the city fare with the Imperials in charge?

Prnell: I got nothing to tell that you can't hear from anyone in town. This was the heart of Crown resistance, but look at it now. When you lock up or murder every Crown or League supporter, it don't leave much.

Cyrus: What are you watching for up there?

Prnell: Ships, sonny. I let the town know when a merchant ship is coming into port. Reminds me of my seafaring days, a bit, watching out from the crow's nest. But now I'm stuck with this job!

Cyrus: How come?

Prnell: Cause ships are about the only thing I can see! I lost my eyepiece around here somewhere, and the spyglass here's no right alternative.

Cyrus: Thanks, Prnell.

After speaking with Prnell, I went back to the ground, after which I left the Harbor by going up the ramp to the Marketplace. I decided to go into Gerrick's shop.

Gerrick: Good day.

Cyrus: Hello, shopkeeper. My name is Cyrus.

Gerrick: Pleased to meet you, my good fellow. Gerrick, your humble servant.

Cyrus: I wonder if you know my sister, Iszara.

Gerrick: Iszara...?

Orsone: Is>>squawk<<zara!

Gerrick: ... A lovely name, by the way... I believe she may have been mixed up with those League Pirates, am I right?

Cyrus: That's what I'm trying to find out. She's been missing for three months. What do you know about them?

Gerrick: That bloodthirsty gang of villains! If your poor sister--

Orsone: Squawwwk!

Gerrick: --Was connected with them, I'm afraid to speculate on what might have happened.

Orsone: Poor pretty! >>Squawk!<<!

Gerrick: They've been a plague on Stros M'Kai for years, although the cowards haven't dared show their faces since the Imperials arrived.

Orsone: >>Ssssquawkkk! Platepate Parrot knowsmore >>squakw<<! Knowsmore!

Cyrus: Please, if you know anything more about Iszara...

Gerrick: Well, she came into my shop some time ago. Looking for malachite - don't stock it, of course, unusual request -- But she was very insistent.

Orsone: >>Squakka-kat!<< Sister plentymoney frightface!

Gerrick: Iszara offered me a tidy sum for the malachite -- Much more than it was worth. I said I could have some for her in three weeks, but she needed it right away. I'm afraid she may have tried the Smuggler's Den, dear me. Not a place to walk into with a purse full of gold.

Cyrus: Smugglers Den?

Gerrick: Yes, under the Cartographer's shop. An open secret around town. I'm sure those smugglers are connected with The Restless League -- Selling Valenwood wine stolen from my own ships, at double the price since they have no competition!

Cyrus: Hmm.

Gerrick: I can't prove any of it, of course.

Orsone: I'm a pretty bird!

Cyrus: Did Iszara say why she needed malachite?

Gerrick: I'm sorry, no. Not much call for it anymore, now that the Alchemist's Shop is closed.

Orsone: >>Squawk<<! Old Vromish crustfinger! >>Squawk<<!

Cyrus: Malachite is used in alchemy?

Gerrick: I believe so. Old Vromish --

Orsone: Squawwwk!

Gerrick: The alchemist, used to order a pound or two from time to time. But he's been dead now these seven years, and the Mage's Guild gets their potions wholesale, so I haven't carried malachite since.

Cyrus: The Mage's Guild sells potions?

Gerrick: Yes, they now have an official monopoly on magic of any kind. Archmage Voa's doing, took advantage of his access to the Prince, at the expense of us small businessmen! Remains to be seen what the new Imperial policty will be. Governor Richton's too busy with his archeological hobby to bother with a small matter like economic policy!

Cyrus: The governor is an archaeology buff?

Gerrick: He's crazy over anything Dwarven. The Dwarven ruins are full of Soldiers, looking for who knows what. Richton better hope the Emperor never finds out how he's wasting his valuable troops!

Cyrus: Where are these Dwarven ruins?

Gerrick: Down on the south end of the island. You won't get in, though. Richton's men have sealed the gates.

Cyrus: What do you know about The Restless League?

Gerrick: A collection of the worst scum from the sewers of Stros M'Kai! Pirates who'd cut your throat as soon as look at you!

Orsone: I know your sister's name.

Cyrus: What'd he say?

Gerrick: Ignore Orsone, good Cyrus, he's a half-wit. What were we talking about?

Cyrus: ... The League -- The Empire crushed The Restless League?

Gerrick: I assume so. They haven't been seen around Stros M'Kai for months. The League pretended to be patriotic rebels after the Crowns' defeat, but a few encounters with Imperial warships quieted them down right quick.

Cyrus: How's business these days?

Gerrick: If it's not Pirates stealing your cargo, it's Imperial taxes. I get by, though. All the ships heading for the Iliac Bay pass through here, so I get first crack at their wares. As long as I can get that lazy Rollo to bring it up from the Harbor.

Orsone: >>Squawk<<! Lazy Rollo fat fu--

Gerrick: Orsone!

Cyrus: Thanks for the time, Gerrick.

After talking to Gerrick, I decided to speak with Orsone, Gerrick's Parrot. I knew that I had to rhyme for him to say anything useful.

Orsone: Squawwwk!

Cyrus: And what's your name?

Orsone: And what's your name?

Cyrus: I'm searching for a young lady.

Orsone: I know your sister's name.

Cyrus: Her dealings, I fear, were shady--

Orsone: And rumors of her game.

Cyrus: My time is short.

Orsone: I only rhyme.

Cyrus: Come, be a sport.

Orsone: 'Bout half the time.

Cyrus: Give us a break there, matey.

Orsone: Unless you do the same! Whee whoooo. I know your sister's name and rumors of her game. I only rhyme 'bout half the time unless you do the same!

Cyrus: I'm searching for a young lady. Her dealings, I fear, were shady-- My time is short. Come, be a sport. Give us a break there, matey.

Orsone: Pretty sister had her schemes, needed gold this time, it seems, twenty-one paces, as the head faces, buried there the gold still gleams!

Cyrus: Bye bye, then.

Orsone: Bye bye, then.

Orsone had given me clues to a hidden treasure, but I didn't want to start looking for it yet, so I decided to wait until I would. I left Gerrick's shop, ready to return to it in the future to buy wares from him, after which I went to the Silversmith's shop. I could easily tell which building was the Silversmith's shop because it had a special sign.

Once inside, I saw a Redguard woman behind the counter and spoke with her.

Krisandra: Yes?

Cyrus: Greetings, my lady. I am Cyrus.

Krisandra: A Sentinel accent, isn't it? I am Krisandra, Silversmith of Stros M'Kai. Pleased to meet you.

Cyrus: I'm looking for my sister, Iszara. Do you know her?

Krisandra: I'm afraid not. I have few friends here as yet. I'm hoping that as time passes things will get back to normal, but the war is still too fresh for people here to forget that I'm a Forebear.

Cyrus: Are you from Sentinel originally?

Krisandra: Yes, I owned a shop there for six years -- On Market Street. Perhaps you know it? Sentinel is overcrowded these days, and when I heard of a business for sale here, I decided to take the chance. So far I haven't had too much trouble from the locals.

Cyrus: Why would the local people give you trouble?

Krisandra: Forebears aren't exactly popular around here, you know? I've never been much involved in politics, but I always supported the Forebear cause. Before the war, all that didn't matter. I had many friends who were Crowns. But things are different now.

Cyrus: You're new here, then?

Krisandra: Arrived only 2 months ago. I'm still trying to get things sorted out. The former owner must not have cleaned this place for twenty years, there was so much junk piled up. I tossed most of it in my warehouse next door just to get it out of the way.

Cyrus: The old Silversmith -- He left because of the war?

Krisandra: He died, actually. I bought the shop from his estate. I guess there was some kind of incident in the Old Quarter, where the most fanatical Crowns lived.

Cyrus: Do you know what happened?

Krisandra: It was before I arrived. The people here tell some pretty fantastic stories. As near as I can figure, the Crowns burned their houses down around their heads rather than surrender after the Imperials took the city. Some would call that admirable, but I think the Redguards put too much stock in zealotry.

Cyrus: I haven't been back to Sentinel since before the war. How did it fare?

Krisandra: Better than Stros M'Kai. Before I came here, I thought the stories I'd heard were just Crown propaganda. The Crowns recaptured Sentinel just before the Empire intervened, but it was nothing like this. Stros M'Kai was the center of Crown resistance, and I suppose the Empire is making an example of the city.

Cyrus: How has Stros M'Kai fared under Imperial occupation?

Krisandra: It's suffered greatly. The incident in the Old Quarter seems to have left the city in shock. The Crowns lost the war, after all. You can't expect to get over that in a few months.

Cyrus: What can you tell me about the Restless League?

Krisandra: I know I sound just like every other Forebear, but they were nothing more than Pirates, using the civil war as cover for their crimes. They were a black mark on the Crowns' cause from the beginning. The destruction of the League is one of the few good things to come from the Empire's victory.

Cyrus: So the League has been wiped out?

Krisandra: As far as I can tell. They haven't been seen in Stros M'Kai in weeks. Their last hurrah was blowing up the Governor's flagship -- A pointless gesture which only spurred Richton to finish cleaning out their organization from the city.

Cyrus: You call it the Empire's victory? What of the Forebears?

Krisandra: Please. I'm not one of the Forebear fanatics. Anyone can see that Baron Volag was used then cast aside by the Empire. He hoped to be King of Hammerfell, but who has seen him since his supposed victory?

Cyrus: You disagree with Baron Volag's decision to ally the Forebears with the Empire?

Krisandra: A gamble that he lost. As a Forebear, I supported Volag's claim to the throne of Hammerfell. I never supposed he was infallible. But the war's over now, and the only thing to do is to make the best of the new situation -- A philosophy more Crowns should embrace, if you ask me.

Cyrus: I admire your courage, a Forebear in the Crown capital.

Krisandra: When I first arrived, the Restless League made a few threats, but the Empire seems to have them under control now. Forebar and Crown, that's all in the past anyway. Hammerfell is part of the Empire now. At least we finally can stop killing each other.

Cyrus: What do you know of the new Provisional Governor Richton?

Krisandra: Ruthless to a fault. Served him well during the war, but not a trait guaranteed to win loyalty in a new province. I wonder how much Tiber Septim knows of what Richton is up to here in Hammerfell.

Cyrus: Tiber Septim, the colossus of our generation, Tamriel's new self-proclaimed Emperor. What's your take?

Krisandra: The Empire's expansion has proceeded according to the merits of the Emperor's servants. By all accounts, Septim's Governor in High Rock has ended the feuding of the Witch-Kings there with tact and skill. The Emperor's representative here in Stros M'Kai is not of the same caliber, and the Emperor is viewed dimly as a result.

Cyrus: I've been told of a Smuggler's Den under the Cartographer's shop. Have you heard of it?

Krisandra: Sure I have. Smuggler's Den! Ha! A pretty grandiose name for a place where the local boys go to get away from their wives and play cards.

Cyrus: So you think it's nothing more sinister than that?

Krisandra: Well... I've heard rumors it was connected with the Restless League, but they're hard to take seriously if a joker like Lakene could get in.

Cyrus: Lakene? Who's he?

Krisandra: The local handyman. Not a bad sort, don't get me wrong, but a bit lunatic fringe. Harldy what I'd call the foundation of a revolution.

Cyrus: What does Lakene have to do with the Smuggler's Den?

Krisandra: Oh... I really shouldn't gossip, but I'm sure you won't tell anyone, will you Cyrus? Seems he was gambling at the Smuggler's Den and lost his wife's antique silver locket. He came to me, desperate to have it replaced so she wouldn't find out. I'd have been glad to help, but I couldn't reproduce it simply from his description. Poor fellow, he went away quite crushed.

Cyrus: Excuse me. Perhaps we can speak later.

Because I had nothing else to say to Krisandra for the moment, I left her shop and went to the belltower near the entrance to the plaza.

Inside, I found an old Redguard man sitting on a chair, next to him being a rope that he used to ring the bell. In the middle of the chamber there was a rope leading up to the bell itself. I decided to speak with the man.

Favis: Ehn-ehn-ehn.

Cyrus: Greetings, old man. I am Cyrus.

Favis: Cyrus, eh? Never heard of you. Must be new around here. My name's Favis. Everybody just calls me Favis though.

Cyrus: My sister, Iszara, is missing. Do you know her?

Favis: Sure, nice young lady, too. Sister, you say? I haven't seen her around in a while though. Wonder if she might be missing.

Cyrus: Apparently no one has seen her for months. Do you have any idea what might have happened?

Favis: Might have something to do with the Restless League. Some of them fellows came around looking for her a while back.

Cyrus: Iszara was in trouble with the Restless League?

Favis: I didn't say that, although come to think of it, they didn't look too friendly. No one you'd want to cross, that's for sure. Their enemies have a way of turning up dead.

Cyrus: My ship was attacked by two members of the Restless League just off Stros M'Kai. What can you tell me about them?

Favis: Not much. Fire-eating Redguard nationalists-- More even than most Crowns could stomach. But they've kep quiet since the Old Quarter was burned. I wonder why they decided to attack your ship?

Cyrus: I don't know. How long has it been since their last attack?

Favis: Hmm. Must've been a month or two, at least. Their last big success was blowing up Richton's flagship, right here in the harbor. A pity, in a way. Whatever else you say about the Imperials, they make beautiful ships. But that little caper cost the League plenty. Afterwards, Richton rounded up anyone who'd ever spoken to a Leaguesman. I was starting to think he had crushed them completely.

Cyrus: You're not in the Restless League?

Favis: Me? Ha! If I was, do you think I'd still be here, with precious Governor Richton throwing every known Leaguesman in the Catacombs? In my day things were simple. A Redguard was loyal to the King and that was that. All this new-fangled politics -- Crowns and Forebears, Restless League -- Not for me.

Cyrus: What of these Catacombs?

Favis: You're a nosy young fellow, aren't you? The less you know about them the better. If Richton doesn't like you, he throws you in Jail. If he really doesn't like you, he throws you in the Catacombs. No one comes out of there alive.

Cyrus: Stros M'Kai was a Crown stronghold, wasn't it?

Favis: It was the seat of power for the Crowns. A'Tor led the Crowns here after Thassad's death. We've suffered greatly for it since young Prince A'Tor died. Took all hope out of the Crowns, but not all the fight.

Cyrus: Not all?

Favis: No, the battle in the Old Quarter did that.

Cyrus: What happened to Prince A'Tor?

Favis: Died in battle, like a Redguard hero of old. I've heard tales that he ain't dead, but that's all rubbish.

Cyrus: Really --

Favis: I spoke with sailors from the Garamar, second in line of battle behind A'Tor's flagship. They saw him on deck just as the Dragon lit up his ship like a festival bonfire. Weren't any survivors from the flagship, not a one.

Cyrus: King Thassad's death was inconvenient for many, but I've never heard tell of foul play.

Favis: Nor I. The Forebears preferred Thassad to his son A'Tor, a known League sympathizaer. Thassad had no patience for the League himself. Called them terrorists -- Maybe true, but they've shown more sense than the Crowns through this whole bloody mess.

Cyrus: I expected to see Stros M'Kai full of Forebears, after their victory.

Favis: Hardly a Forebear victory. It was Imperial might that defeated the Crowns, laddy, make no mistake about that. The for-show few that Richton brought with him mostly stay up in the Palace or drink themselves to stupor. You might run into 'em at the Draggin Tale, looking for trouble, so you'll want to be careful.

Cyrus: Tell me what happened in the Old Quarter.

Favis: The Crowns made their last stand there after the Dragon destroyed A'Tor's fleet. Senseless bravado -- Should've done what the League did, and laid low until the Imperials were off guard. Instead they went down fighting, Redguard heroes but dead all the same.

Cyrus: This Dragon -- Have you seen it?

Favis: Not with my own eyes, but I heard tell of it from the survivors. They say Richton keeps it in the Catacombs, feeding it on captured Leaguesmen.

Cyrus: What can you tell me about Governor Richton?

Favis: You don't look like one of his spies.

Cyrus: Rest assured.

Favis: I'm too old to worry about such things anyway. Hmm. Why was I worrying?

Cyrus: Richton.

Favis: Oh yeah: good Soldier, maybe, but a bloodthirsty beast of a ruler. Enjoys having Stros M'Kai under his thumb, he does. Won't be much left of it when he's through.

Cyrus: How do things stand in Stros M'Kai, under Imperial occupation?

Favis: As bad as they can be. Looks peaceful now, doesn't it? The peace of the grave, it is -- Most of the younger folk dead or run off. In the old days, this was the bustling south heart of Hammerfell. Harbor jammed with shipping, sailors from all over walking the streets. What you see now is the ghost of the old Stros M'Kai, dead but it just don't know it yet.

Cyrus: You're in charge of this belltower?

Favis: Don't want to be, but I'm stuck with it. Damn Prnell's fault. Leaves me stuck here while he sits in the cool breeze and watches Hundin Bay roll by. Doesn't he think I'd like to wave the flag once in a while? Stubborn as a Mule, he is, and ungrateful to boot.

Cyrus: Prnell...? A friend of yours?

Favis: Friend? Ha! Blind as a Bat, he is, but will he ever let me wave the flag? No. Too stuffy down there, he says. You'd fall off the chair, he says. Always some excuse. Now he's gone and broken the bell. Don't know why I put up with him.

Cyrus: I'm not sure I follow you. What flag do you mean?

Favis: We're supposed to trade off. One of us watches for ships, waves the flag when he sees one, then the other rings the bell to let people know. But he never lets me take my turn in the watchtower. Doesn't care about my feelings, not at all. Always about what Prnell wants. Hmph!

Cyrus: The bell doesn't look broken.

Favis: Well, not broken exactly, but I'm sure it doesn't ring as loud as it used to. But Prnell wouldn'tlet me have Lakene look at it, would he? Insisted on doing it himself. Typical. Took him half the day, then had the nerve to tell me there's nothing wrong with it!

Cyrus: Prnell said that he lost his eyepiece. Have you seen it?

Favis: That's just perfect! He's as blind as true love without his eyepiece! I guess the only way he can see is through his damn telescope now!

Cyrus: So you haven't seen it, then?

Favis: No. He'll never leave the telescope chair now! And I'll never get to wave the flag!

Cyrus: I'm not sure if I've met Lakene.

Favis: Me neither. Now that Lakene on the other hand -- Handiest young fellow I ever met. Can fix anything. Hey, you look like a handy sort yourself. Maybe you could take a look at it for me?

Cyrus: Sure, I'd be happy to.

Favis: Good lad!

Although I had accepted to fix the bell, I knew that this was part of a quest that I didn't want to do yet. So I left the belltower, knowing that I would return eventually, and went to the beautiful Plaza of the city, where I started walking around. I stumbled upon no one else but Mariah, a Redguard woman and one of the most notorious characters in the game... While I knew that she had one of the worst character voices in video gaming, I decided to be brave and talk to her!

Mariah: Well met, stranger.

Cyrus: Excuse me miss, can I have a word?

Mariah: Yes, my name's Mariah. What can I do for you?

Cyrus: Do you know of a woman named Iszara?

Mariah: Used to see her around. But that was a while ago. Last time I saw her -- Mnnn... She was headed toward the Cartographer's. Never saw her again -- ...And that was three months ago if it were a day.

Cyrus: The Cartographer's? I wonder what she would want there?

Mariah: Hopefully she was just seeing Maiko, the Mapmaker, and not the boys in the Smuggler's Den below.

Cyrus: What do you know about this Smugglers Den?

Mariah: Below the Cartographer's. I've seen all sorts coming in and out of there, even so-called "League members" from time to time. I hope Iszara didn't end up there.

Cyrus: You wouldn't happen to know the password to the Den, would you?

Mariah: Oh no. I stay far away from that sort of trouble.

Cyrus: Any idea how I can get into the Palace?

Mariah: Richton doesn't take to uninvited guests, and there's no way to sneak in that I've heard of.

Cyrus: What do you know about this Restless League group?

Mariah: They scare me, frankly. They've been around since the days of Thassad, and no one seems to know much about them. They seem to remain as quiet as possible, not like your usual Pirates, there's something else to them.

Cyrus: And what does life hold for you in Stros M'Kai?

Mariah: Not as much as it used to. Spend my days landscaping. Before the civil war there were more of us. The Town Square and the Park were so beautiful. But I do what I can.

Cyrus: I'm surprised Richton even allows such a practice to continue.

Mariah: City beautification may not be one of Lord Richton's concerns, but he still needs to put on the right airs, should his Emperor, Tiber Septim, ever check up on him. All leaders like their gardens full and the smell of success in the air.

Cyrus: Where's the Park?

Mariah: Over by the waterfall! I'm ashamed you didn't notice... I'll have to spend more time on it. People really do enjoy it, especially that Arkay boy, Kithral.

Cyrus: What were you saying about Kithral?

Mariah: He's one of the Temple members. Loved the park. Would stare at the waterfall and write in his journal. Passionate Crown, that one. But now that you mention it, I haven't seen him in months.

Cyrus: Thanks Mariah.

After having spoken to Mariah, I saw a drunken Breton man walking around the City Plaza and decided to speak with him.

Cyrus: Name's Cyrus. You ok?

Crendal: No. I'm Crendal.

Cyrus: You seen a woman named Iszara around?

Crendal: Sure I have! Not that I remember names though... Oh, but they remember mine. Dem broads love Crendal... Have my way with em all, ya know, hee hee.

Cyrus: What do you know about the group called the Restless League?

Crendal: Dem punks. Killed em, killed em all once I did. Bunch a Redguard pansies... Hick... They want me to join em, but I got too much thinkin to do.. Heavy load, I saaay! Richton's got it out for them. You watch out.

Cyrus: So, Stros M'Kai's one big party for you, eh?

Crendal: Gotta drink to keep sane in this place. Dem sissies round here think they can make the best of it. They makin nothing. Noooaathing. Richton's got em all scared.

Cyrus: Richton doesn't have you scared?

Crendal: No sir. I kicked his fat butt. No throwing me in his Catacombs!

Cyrus: You're scared of the Catacombs, eh?

Crendal: Didn't say that. Did. Not. Say. That. Richton throws the Crowns in Jail, and Pirates in the Catacombs. I ain't neither. Doubt his cronies could take me anyway.

Cyrus: You've certainly spent a lot of time at the local tavern.

Crendal: Richton's got that damned Lizard, Dreekius, charging three gold pieces for lousy Valenwood wine! He freaks me out... Picking flies off the bar with his tongue. I can't... Hick... I can't relax with that... Hick... Going on.

Cyrus: Liquor tax?

Crendal: That's right! It's a real shock that sailors don't hang around anymore. He... He... Who's in charge of that one?

Cyrus: Just like a drunk to blame the bartender for his troubles --

Crendal: Pahh! Who the (hick!) do you blame for yours, tough guy? I know Dreekius' story... Just no one, no one else does. Damn Argonians...! Dem Darkelves got it right: cage em up and let em hawl ash!

Cyrus: Don't like Argonians either? Who do you like Crendal?

Crendal: Fine, then, fine. Hang 'round that scaly bastard an' catch the flu --

Cyrus: There hasn't been a case of that in two hundred years.

Crendal: All I'm sayin', those of us play our cards right could open a right-good belt shop.

Cyrus: I've had enough.

Crendal: Good!

After talking to Crendal, I decided to see if there was any way to enter the Old Quarter. Unfortunately, the path was blocked.

Since there was no way to get inside, I decided to talk to the Redguard man nearby.

Lakene: Hello there.

Cyrus: Hi. Cyrus. And you are?

Lakene: Lakene. You're new here aren't you?

Cyrus: You know anything about a woman named, Iszara?

Lakene: Iszara. Name sounds familiar. But I can't say that I do.

Cyrus: What do you know about the Restless League?

Lakene: Nothing. Who said that I did?

Cyrus: And what does Stros M'Kai hold for you?

Lakene: I'm what everyone likes to refer to as Mr. Fix-It. I'm cursed by it actually. Oh... And by the way... If you see a man named Trithik, tell him I'll get to his boat when I have time.

Cyrus: If I'll see the fellow, I'll tell him.

Lakene: And as for what keeps me in Stros M'Kai, with the Empire and Richton and all... Well, I've lived here for a long time, got friend and roots here -- And Stros M'Kai has deep roots... Ancient history... There's the real mystery.

Cyrus: The real mystery? Huh, I've heard too many already.

Lakene: The ruins. In the mountains. Dwarves, sailor. Long dead. An ancient technological trove. Empire's searching the world for such knowledge. They may have found it here.

Cyrus: What does the Empire hope to find there?

Lakene: Power! Before you know it we'll have steam-driven carriages and flying machines-whole Empire's interested in them Dwarves for some reason. Sure, sure, Prince A'Tor, Arkay bless his soul, might've said they were dangerous and we should leave dead civilizations be, but, hell, man, there's progress to be made.

Cyrus: Flying machines? Are you ok?

Lakene: You wait! You just wait! Those Dwarves made up for their lack of magic in other ways. Magic is the crutch of the world! Why build a better bridge when a mage can teleport you to the other side? Things have been the same for thousands of years, and it's going to end soon.

Cyrus: Steam-driven carriages, huh?

Lakene: That's right. Dwarves knew how to use the steam. You may laugh, but it's a powerful force and Richton's got his boys looking at it right now. Empire may have what they need to conquer all of Tamriel sooner than you think.

Cyrus: What's wrong with Trithik's boat?

Lakene: Not sure, really. I think he's had some vandals at night.

Cyrus: Do you know the password to the Smuggler's Den?

Lakene: I don't know what you're talking about.

I knew that Lakene knew the password to the Smuggler's Den, but I didn't want to make him tell me what the password was because, once again, I didn't want to do the quest that he was going to ask me to do just yet.

Cyrus: We'll talk later.

Having spoken with Lakene, I decided to go into the shop with the book signs with the text "J'Ferr's".

Inside I found bookcases filled with books. A male Suthay-Raht Khajiit was behind the counter.

J'Ffer: Welcome to J'Ffer's.

Notice how the signs outside say that the Khajiit's name is "J'Ferr", and the Khajiit himself says that his name is "J'Ffer". Still, I'd rather trust the Khajiit; it's likely that he knew his own name better than the person who made the signs did.

Cyrus: Hail, desertwalker. I am Cyrus.

J'Ffer: J'Ffer is at your service.

Cyrus: My sister, Iszara, is missing. Do you know her?

J'Ffer: An all too common tale in this city. J'Ffer regrets that he cannot count your sister among his friends.

Cyrus: Ever heard of a group called the Restless League?

J'Ffer: Some say Pirates, some say rebels. J'Ffer knows too little to judge. Rumor calls them secret allies of the late Prince. Whether they survived the Crowns' defeat, J'Ffer cannot say.

Cyrus: Stros M'Kai seems quiet, almost deserted. Has the Imperial occupation been so harsh?

J'Ffer: Tiber Septim has many clansmen, of lesser repute than he. The city of Redguards suffers under one of the least of these, Provisional Governor Richton.

Cyrus: Tiber Septim's reputation seems to depend on who you ask.

J'Ffer: True. And the Redguards have long memories, as the statue in the Harbor attests. History loves an empire-builder, though. J'Ffer cannot yet say who will write Septim's epitaph.

Cyrus: I was surprised to see Hunding's statue still standing, national treasure or not.

J'Ffer: Doubtless our esteemed Governor has reasons aside from Redguard sentiment. Lord Richton has shown indifference to such niceties in other matters -- Witness the fate of the Old Quarter.

Cyrus: The Old Quarter? What happened there?

J'Ffer: In his excessive zeal to root out his clan's enemies, Richton put it to the torch. A silent history of Hammerfell, wrough in stone and wood, now ashes. The Redguards speak of dragonfire in the night, but J'Ffer remained indoors and so saw nothing.

Cyrus: Do you mean a Dragon was here in Stros M'Kai?

J'Ffer: Was, is. J'Ffer hears much, but knows little.

Cyrus: Is there any way to gain an audience with the Governor?

J'Ffer: Proclaiming yourself a Crown might work, but more likely will lead to a speedy death. Few besides Forebears have access to the Palace.

Cyrus: There must be some other way into the Palace.

J'Ffer: An interesting architectural puzzle. The present structure dates to the early Common Era, a harmonious design, that is until our esteemed Governor began his renovations. The foundations are much older, connected to a maze of Catacombs which may predate the arrival of Redguards in Hammerfell.

Cyrus: How do I get into the Catacombs?

J'Ffer: That honor is now reserved for Crowns, who must find it a pleasant place, for none has ever returned.

Cyrus: The Forebears run Stros M'Kai now?

J'Ffer: Redguard politics largely escape me. The Forebears allied with the Empire to win the throne, yet who sits on the high seat of Sentinel? Not Baron Volag, strangely absent from public view since his victory.

Cyrus: Do you think Richton dared murder the Forebears' leader?

J'Ffer: A strange reward for your chief ally, J'Ffer agrees. And no mention of murder passed J'Ffer's lips. Still, there is no King in Hammerfell.

Cyrus: Is it so dangerous to be a Crown these days?

J'Ffer: J'Ffer's interests lie more in the past than with the current upheavals, but even J'Ffer can see that the city has been cleansed of dissidents. Yet Soldiers continue to scour the island, to what end?

Cyrus: Do you have any idea what the Imperials are looking for?

J'Ffer: J'Ffer sent four copies of Dwarven Lore to the Palace last week. It may be no coincidence that Stros M'Kai, with the largest Dwarven Ruins in the windward lands, has received particular attention from the mighty Tiber Septim's clansmen.

Cyrus: Windward lands? I'm not familiar with that term.

J'Ffer: My apologies. J'Ffer almost forgot he spoke to the unclawed. The coastlands of Tamriel, to the northwest of our desert homeland. Mighty Tiber Septim bids fair to become Clan-Mother to them all, Hammerfell included.

Cyrus: Dwarven ruins? I'm intrigued.

J'Ffer: As well you should be. An amazing site, full of the inexplicable work of that vanished people. No longer open for visitors, however. The Imperials have resealed the ancient gates, for reasons known only to our honored Governor.

Cyrus: Peace, desertwalker. I must go.

Cyrus: Excuse me. Are you the Archmage?

Jaganvir: Leave me, please. I have much to do.

Cyrus: Can I have a moment?

Jaganvir: Are you slow boy? Begone!

Cyrus: This really won't take long.

Jaganvir: The Battlespire test awaits. I have no time for you now. Please.

Cyrus: I was wondering...

Jaganvir: Don't make me throw you out! Now leave me!

Because the Archmage was proving to be... Slightly uncooperative, I decided to speak with the Wood Elf female.

Falicia: Good day.

Cyrus: Hello.

Falicia: Hello, stranger. Welcome to the Mage's Guild of Stros M'Kai, fully chartered since 638 CE. I'm the resident Shopkeeper hereabouts. Feel free to look around, but remember everything is guild property. If there is anything you'd like to buy, just let me know.

Cyrus: I am looking for a young woman named Iszara.

Falicia: The name is not familiar, sir; might she have been a member of the Guild?

Cyrus: I doubt it, but she may have been.

Falicia: My apprenticeship here has lasted several years, and I haven't met any member named Iszara yet. But, who knows, many members of the Upper Cabal are of the secretive sort.

Cyrus: It's unlikely then, but she may have been a customer here at your shop.

Falicia: I can't recall anybody by that name, but so many people come here from day to day it's no surprise. And I would be the only one who works the shop since my apprenticeship, for some cruel reasons, seems relegated to retail.

Cyrus: How long do you have to be an apprentice, Ms...?

Falicia: Falicia. And it's been way too long. I think the Guild has a prejudice against Elves based on the fact that we live so long -- -- And have the potential of reaching heights no Human Wizard could ever dream for, unless he goes the rotting way, which so many do, but I guess I'm just being bitter. One day I'll make Archmage, and maybe none too soon considering there's an opening now.

Cyrus: Who is the Archmage?

Falicia: Human named Jaganvir, a real hardcase. Doesn't really have enough secrets to be Archmage, but the last one was killed at the Battle of Stros M'Kai so there was a vacuum to fill.

Cyrus: What happened to the last Archmage?

Falicia: Voa's Redguard blood got the better of him. He died in the Battle of Stros M'Kai fighting alongside the Prince.

Cyrus: The Mage's Guild helped the Crowns in the battle?

Falicia: Not the Mage's Guild, just former Archmage Voa. He was a Nationalist as well as a Guildmember, and couldn't help himself. Got killed for mundane politics.

Cyrus: Do you think Jaganvir knows anything about Iszara?

Falicia: Wouldn't tell you if he did. He doesn't talk to mundanes, and he's too busy studying for the Battlespire to be seen lately.

Cyrus: What's the Battlespire?

Falicia: A War College set up by the Empire to test its Battlemages; an Elite Mage's Guild, really. Archmage Jaganvir's got his sights on the Battlespire recently, though why anybody would want to hang out with those losers is beyond me.

Cyrus: Maybe I could speak to somebody in the Upper Cabal...

Falicia: Sure. You'll be right after me, as soon as you get ten years of apprenticeship under your belt and can cast an "alter reality" spell. The new Archmage, Jaganvir, he doesn't talk to nobody, and would make everybody else in the Guild do likewise, except for me, since I run the Shop.

Cyrus: Has the Empire interfered with the Mage's Guild yet?

Falicia: Of that I am not at liberty to say. Let's just say Archmage Jaganvir is trying to stay on their good side. He's got his greedy eyes on the Battlespire.

Cyrus: Do you know anything about the Restless League?

Falicia: I'm afraid not. The Mage's Guild tries to stay out of the lesser politics.

Cyrus: What kind of town is Stros M'Kai?

Falicia: I'm too busy studying to pay it much mind. Plus, with the Empire here, the streets feel kind of dangerous.

Cyrus: So you never leave the Guild?

Falicia: If you want to know the truth, wide open spaces kind of make me nervous. Many Wood-Elves are like that, you know.

Cyrus: They miss the canopies of the Valenwood trees...

Falicia: Our second sky, the Middle Green. Let's just say I don't wander around in Stros M'Kai enough to know that much about it.

Cyrus: How old is the Mage's Guild?

Falicia: This one, or the institution itself? This one is fairly new, two hundred years and a fourth more. Modern magicks came late to Hammerfell.

Cyrus: Redguards have strong traditions.

Falicia: But even they took finnaly to the notion of a more controlled and conscious auspice for magic. The Mage's Guild was a reaction to the mass hedgery of old, when magic was wild and unbalanced.

Cyrus: How very modern for an Elf.

Falicia: When you're a student you embrace the institutional line-- If you want to graduate.

Cyrus: Thanks for your help.

Falicia: The name's Falicia. I'll be here.

Cyrus: Thanks, Falicia.

Falicia: Thanks yourself.

After talking to Falicia, I went to the books in the bookcases.

Cyrus: Volumes on the art of magick. I would never have the patience.

On the shelf were a piece of Amber and a vial of Orc's Blood.

Cyrus: Sure smells like Orc's Blood.

On a small table was a Crystal Ball.

Cyrus: Huh. What's a Wizard without a Crystal Ball.

There was also a Unicorn's Horn on the table.

Cyrus: This Horn looks to be from a Unicorn.

On a shelf of a bookcase, there were some Pig's Sac and a Salamander.

Cyrus: It's a small purple Salamander.

I went to the book on the pedestal and activated it.

Cyrus: Hmmm. Text on potions. Says here that Orc's Blood mixed with Pig's Sac provides great strength.

I then went to the door with the "Keep Out" poster and entered it. Inside there was an empty opened chest and a table with destroyed alchemical tools. There was also a locked door which led outside. I left the small room returning to the chamber in which Falicia was, after which I went up the stairs. Above, I found a walkway which led to a magical pool, which had the power to show the past... And the future.

Looking in the pool for the first time, I saw the future; Cyrus in a grave with a sword. Looking in the pool again, I saw the past; the moment when Cyrus killed his sister Iszara's husband in a brawl. After I looked in the pool the third time, I saw, as Cyrus put it, "old friends long gone".

Having nothing else to do in the Mage's Guild, I left it. I then decided to go to the Cartographer's shop, which was right next to the Mage's Guild. Inside there were many maps, rolled up or otherwise, and an old Redguard man was working on a Summerset Isle map. I spoke with him.

Maiko: Yes?

Cyrus: Good day. I'm Cyrus.

Maiko: Aren't too many youngsters around these days, specially not as well-spoken as you. I'm Maiko, the local Cartographer. How can I help you?

Cyrus: Do you know a young woman named Iszara?

Maiko: I'm afraid not. I don't know too many of the youngsters around town these days, you see. I prefer to spend my time with my maps.

Cyrus: I wonder if you've heard of the Restless League?

Maiko: Hmm... The alliance between Daggerfall, Wayrest and Balfiera against the Cyrodiils during the First Era? No, no, that was the League of Unrest... Sorry, I'm not familiar with it.

Cyrus: What are people talking about around town these days?

Maiko: Damning the Governor's eyes, mainly. I try not to get involved in all those troubles. I've seen more than enough suffering in my life. I just want to spend my last days working with my maps.

Cyrus: Is life under the Imperial Governor so harsh?

Maiko: I said I didn't want to speak of such things.

Cyrus: What do your maps tell you?

Maiko: Maps are like people, did you know that Cyrus? There are good maps, bad maps, indifferent maps. You shouldn't trust most maps, they'll lead you astray if you give them a chance. An honest map is rarer than a true friend, remember that, young sir.

Cyrus: I've heard tell that your basement is used as a Smuggler's Den.

Maiko: Really? How about that? I rent the downstairs to some local lads. They're quiet, and always pay up on time. I can't imagine they're up to anything illegal.

Cyrus: These local lads... Do they have names?

Maiko: They never said. Perhaps you should run downstairs and ask them yourself.

Cyrus: Do you have any maps for sale?

Maiko: Sorry, I don't sell retail. Contract work only. But perhaps I can make a map for you?

Cyrus: I could use a map of the island.

Maiko: I used to make those, but I can't compete with the big Hammerfell Cartography Houses. Hire beggars and street urchins to copy off a master map. You've probably seen their cheap city maps around. Nothing like a good hand-drawn map, but people don't seem to care about craftsmanship anymore.

Cyrus: We'll talk later.

Having nothing more to talk to the Cartographer about, I left his shop and went down the stairs to the basement, after which I knocked on the door.

Urik: What's the password?

Cyrus: Open up!

Urik: Sorry, mate. Can't help you.

Having been refused entry, I decided to go somewhere else. Seeing as I didn't want to go into the Temple of Arkay just yet, I finnaly went into the Draggin Tale inn.

Once inside, I saw three Redguard men sitting around a table near a fireplace. An Argonian was behind the counter, and a Nord man was in front of him. I approached the Nord, who was actually Tobias, Cyrus' good friend who had sent him the letter that had brought him here in the first place. I, of course, spoke with him.

Tobias: Cyrus! You made it! Come here, lad! You look good! It's been too long!

Cyrus: If you hadn't retired --

Tobias: Mercenary life's younger men's work!

Cyrus: Bah, he said.

Tobias: Ah-hah-hah. I prayed that you would get my letter.

Cyrus: Is it safe to talk here?

Tobias: As safe as any, and the ale is good. Dreekius can be trusted as much as any walking Lizard can be. It might get a little rough with all the Forebears around but I'll be here until I leave Stros M'Kai.

Cyrus: It is lucky you were here, Tobias, or I wouldn't have known Iszara was in trouble. I have not been in Hammerfell since the --

Tobias: I know, lad, what you mean.

Cyrus: Anyway, Stros M'Kai has no one who could've reached me. Thank you.

Tobias: I sent the letter some weeks ago, Cyrus. I fear things have gotten worse for your sister since.

Cyrus: How do you mean worse? What more do you know about Iszara?

Tobias: Nothing more than my letter has described -- That she is gone and no one knows where -- Just a bad feeling that's grown worse with the wait. The Governor has not been merciful with the Crowns that survived the battle. I hear his Dragon's belly is full of the overloud, and that many died later in the burning of the Old Quarter.

Cyrus: How did you know where to reach me, Tobias? Our paths parted so long ago.

Tobias: I didn't send it to you directly. I knew that damn Cat was probably still getting you into trouble even to this day. S'Rathra seemed the likely solution, and through the channels I'd heard he'd made Wayrest his port of late.

Cyrus: He's moved from the throneseekers of the Old Empire to the lesser lords of High Rock, still playing them to his benefit, raking in the gold on all fronts.

Tobias: I thought that Septim had solidified the Bretons.

Cyrus: As much as the Witchmen will, but there is still a lot of money to be made in the drawing of borders before the provincial laws dry completely. Mercenaries are in great demand right now, as are fixers like our Cat-friend.

Tobias: Does he still stink so?

Cyrus: To here.

Tobias: I think I will go to see him when I leave. It's been too long.

Cyrus: What happened to the Old Quarter?

Tobias: The Crowns fled ashore there after the battle. It was their last stand. The Governor sent his Dragon and it was done.

Cyrus: Was Iszara there?

Tobias: That section of town is closed off. No one I've talked to knows if she was there or not.

Cyrus: Where's the Dragon now?

Tobias: It's disappeared, too. Some say it has returned to the Imperial Province. Others that the Governor keeps it well-aid and fed in the Catacombs below the Palace.

Cyrus: Is there another way into the Catacombs?

Tobias: There is the traditional way.

Cyrus: Imagine that I laughed. A secret entrance, maybe.

Tobias: Maybe. I don't know.

Cyrus: Do you think Iszara chose sides in the civil war and that is why she has disappeared?

Tobias: Your family's always been partisan, lad, since your early days in Sentinel. I ventured she still held her old allegiances even if you haven't. Few Crowns in Stros M'Kai survived the battle with the Imperials, but I know Iszara was one of them.

Cyrus: How?

Tobias: Hearing of the defeat of the Crowns caused me much concern. When I arrived, I searched for word of Iszara's safety. The only ones here who knew of her said that she had disappeared shortly after the Imperials landed.

Cyrus: I see the harbor is already arrayed in the flags of the Emperor, and that his men walk the streets as if born to them.

Tobias: Stros M'Kai's a dangerous port these days; there's an Empire to be built, you know, and Tiber Septim shows no sign of slowing its increase from here to the edge of the world map. High Rock's border kings bent knee to the Cyrodiil long ago. Even my father's fair Skyrim is adorned with flags of Red Dragons and foreign men. We are entering a new era, I fear, with Septim's name writ long and wide upon it.

Cyrus: Any kind words for our new Emperor?

Tobias: He is good at what he does and sees the holes lesser men leave wide. No offense to your Prince A'Tor, of course --

Cyrus: Hammerfell's problems are her own. I was only asking if Septim was the tyrant they say.

Tobias: Of course he is! Tyranny means never having to say you're sorry. But Iszara's fate has nothing to do with the Emperor, I'm sure. Look to the Provisional Governor if you suspect Imperial entanglements. He's the real tyrant around here. Septim's no Cyrodiil from what I've heard, though he rules their remnants and rebuilds their Empire; he's something worse, or greater, depending on your disposition to the center sun.

Cyrus: If he has no blood tie to the Cyrodiil throne then how did he make it his?

Tobias: Come on. For the last four hundred years the petty kings of Cyrodiil have been squabbling over the title of Emperor, all claiming forebearance -- Imperial throne's blood's thinner than a sea dream and half as wet. Tiber Septim took the throne as he took your people's.

Cyrus: Hail the new conqueror.

Tobias: There's a good little subject.

Cyrus: You used to hire out to those petty kings, did you not?

Tobias: Twenty years ago, maybe, when the whole heart of Tamriel was in chaos. I can admire Tiber Septim insofar that he has managed to consolidate the rags and tatters that bickered there then.

Cyrus: No Empire is a good thing, Captain.

Tobias: There's a Redguard for you.

Cyrus: So the Nord Kings have submitted to Tiber Septim, too?

Tobias: They do not worry overmuch. They have outlasted empires before and this conquest will be no different. Hammerfell has been the bloodiest invasion of current record, and by comparison Skyrim's occupation seems like a ballet.

Cyrus: Imperial expansion has been feared for years. Why wasn't Hammerfell better prepared?

Tobias: Factional squabbles, divided counsels, miscalculations. Crowns lost heart when they lost the capital. Forebears lost their heads -- Completely -- When they welcomed the Empire's "friendship and aid".

Cyrus: So the Empire played the Forebears pretty well, eh?

Tobias: What else is a visionary with an open invitation to do? The Forebears are having futile