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Five Companions

The Unbreakable Redguard

Author: 
Anonymous

For all of his self-doubt, Sai Sahan has proven monstrously difficult to break. Perhaps the years of physical training he endured to condition his body make the tortures of the flesh pale in comparison. Likewise, threats of bodily harm to friends and acquaintences have no effect. He merely closes his eyes and promises to avenge them.

So deftly he pulled the Amulet of Kings from the fingers of Varen's withering husk amidst the chaos of the Soulburst, and then he was gone, a fleeting shadow in the night. I must have it back if I am to enact the final stage of my plan. Since that day I have played a waiting game as Molag Bal's Planemeld continues unabated.

For the time being, this works to my advantage. But I must find the amulet before the Planemeld concludes, or my plan is doomed to failure. I would tear this continent apart stone by stone if I had to, but for now I shall be patient. Sai Sahan cannot endure these tortures forever. He will break, and the Amulet of Kings will be mine once again.

The Duchess of Anguish

Author: 
Anonymous

It became necessary to relocate Sai Sahan when it became clear that standard interrogation techniques would not work. His will is very strong; no doubt forged during the years he spent training in solitude, attempting to restore the ancient Yokudan art of sword-singing. Despite his utter failure to manifest the spirit swords—a task that came as naturally as breathing to the ancient masters—Sai Sahan maintains an unusually strong sense of self.

When it was determined that he could resist or outright ignore physical pain, I had him relocated from the dungeons beneath the Imperial City to a location that might be better suited to break his will and extract the information I seek. My contacts amongst Molag Bal's Daedric servants were receptive to the suggestion; after all, it had been years since any of them had the challenge of breaking a subject with such a strong will.

The lovely Duchess of Anguish has a touch that is like razors against the flesh. Her voice sears the mind and soul, her lips are coated in venom, and her intellect is as sharp as her tongue. She has practiced her art for uncounted centuries, and I am confident she will extract the information from the Redguard without killing him.

I suppose the Redguard will need to be disposed of when this is over. Once the information is mine, perhaps I will give him to the Duchess as a gift. She will almost certainly kill him, I think, but first she will enjoy him as a plaything for many long years.

Aldimion's Journal

Author: 
Aldimion

A strange request, indeed!

I was on my evening stroll, having a bite to eat in a back alley, when I noticed that the Imperial neck I feasted upon bore a golden medallion. I recognized the trinket at once as the sigil of the Cult of the Black Worm. While I considered this, I heard the dull thwack of a blunt object hitting flesh and bone, and my world went black.

I awoke in a cave, bound to a chair, my head throbbing with bittersweet pain. A number of hooded cultists surrounded me, each with the unmistakable gleam of murder in his eyes. I quite liked them.

One of the cultists seemed different than the others, and I recognized him as their leader almost immediately. He had a cold, yet calm demeanor and seemed completely unafraid of me.

He introduced himself as Abnur Tharn. He was somewhat displeased that I had made my evening meal on one of his most loyal guards. Normally, he explained, I would have been discorporated for such an infraction, but he said he liked my style and my … violent proclivities. He said he saw a lot of promise in me, and would like to propose a mutually beneficial arrangement.

If I agreed to join the Worm Cult, I could replace this agent. I would reside in a conveniently placed underground lair within the city limits, which would assure me a continued stream of meals, along with a virtually unlimited supply of black soul gems.

The agreement did sound promising, but just to play Daedra's advocate, I asked what my alternative might be. In answer, Tharn opened a portal to Coldharbour right at my feet. My chair began to teeter, and the screams of the damned filled my ears. Lovely to listen to, but not something I wished to experience firsthand.

Needless to say, I chose servitude. Now, I while away my days guarding this wretched cavern while prowling the city streets after dusk. It's not a bad existence. In fact, I've even begun to take up the study of necromancy. At some point, perhaps Tharn will consent to teaching me the finer points himself. Time will tell. And I have all the time in the world, don't I?