The travel to Weynon Priory was uneventful, nay even boring. A long day, into night, of marching lead me to the Priory, but I ran into few travelers, and even those were hesitant to talk and generally kept to themselves, as did I. Which, I suppose, isn't so bad in this age of disturbances and evil.

Once there, Jauffre told me the story behind the Amulet, which seems to be used to light the Dragonstones. Even he, however, was unsure of its real affect, as only the Emperor himself knows. He guessed that perhaps it kept the evil at bay, "closing the doors of Oblivion", as the Emperor so succinctly put it before he shuffled off this mortal coil. Jauffre then asked me to continue on to Kvatch and bring back Brother Martin, the unknown and illegitimate heir of Emperor Septim's. Turns out that Jauffre is the Grandmaster of Blades, running things from behind the cowl.

By the Nines, this is all confusing! Could it only have been less than a week ago that I was blithely working my way to the Imperial City, completely unawares of these momentous happenings? And yet somehow the Emperor saw in me a spark that I still search for myself. Jauffre's story of the daedra Mehrune Dagon, and the absolute evil of Oblivion, overwhelms my senses and I wonder how a peon like myself can not only get involved in the god-like battles, but actually have a real effect!

So here I sit, resting up at the Priory before the long arduous journey to Kvatch. I need to find Brother Martin before the forces of evil track him down and extinguish the flames of the Dragonstone forever. Do I really have the strength, both of mind and of body, to do this? Can one simple man like myself truly change the course of history? The doubts plague me, and the muscles are weary, but I must push on, and do my utmost to keep the evil at bay.

I did finally solve the mystery, if you can call it that, of Thoronir's low prices. It turns out that his cohort and supplier, Agarmir, was doing a little graverobbing on the side. He would observe the burial schedule, and then sneak off to the crypt and grab whatever he could. I surprised him in the act, but it turned out to be a set up, and him and his cohort turned on me. The blades sang and the arrows flew, but I don't think I would be here to tell about it if the guards hadn't arrived in the nick of time. The ugly pair fought like cornered cats, but we overwhelmed them in the end and put a stop to their nefarious practice.

I ache all over now. While my Restore Health spell puts a stop to any bleeding, it does nothing for the sore muscles and bruises that dot my arms and torso. A small potion of sleep sits at the ready next to me, to help guide me to a restful sleep after I get these words down. I am truly unused to being a "hero", despite the thanks Jensine and even Thoronir gave me. And the rare weapons I recovered from the tomb, while lining my pockets nicely, do nothing for the ringing in my ears.

Both Jensine and Thoronir gave me a small reward for my help. Gaining their trust and even admiration is, again, a very strange thing for a loner like myself. I continue to struggle in coming to grips with this new "me", someone who seems like a stranger from within. I marvel at my reactions, and how I continue to grow in both confidence and ability.

In the morn, I head out on the road for Chorrol, and Weynon Priory, to seek out this Jauffre fellow. Hopefully, he'll take this amulet from me, give me a hearty handshake, and I will be done with "saving the world". But I won't be done exploring it by any means. I raise my hefty mug of meade in a salute to the future!

Imperial City is simply overwhelming, even for the new, more confident, me. The hustle and bustle of people, even if they are very friendly, overpowers a small village guy like myself. Shops, people, temples, guard towers - it all smothers the senses, making one feel ungrounded and superfluous. My confidence has been shaken and I probably need to get out of the city soon. Maybe I'll continue on to Chorrol, to find Jauffre and hand off this Emperor's bauble.

I did find myself back underground again. It can be hard to stay in the fresh air around here, with all the buildings and people pressing in. I slinked away into the sewer system, and explored extensively while I tried to get back on my feet. I felt I needed more practice, to sharpen my combat skills, and the sewers turned out to be an excellent arena for my efforts. Mudcrabs and goblins proved to be worthy adversaries, as I explorer the twisty little passages underneath the bustle. The rats, however, I can do without!

My new confidence, however shaken, must be showing, though. I was looking around in a shop went the merchant, Jensine, approached me and asked if I would check out a small problem the merchant society has. It seems one Thoronir has been undercutting their prices and they wonder about the source of his goods. It makes a man feel good when he can wear his confidence on his sleeve and be appreciated for it! So I accepted the charge and went off to look for Thoronir's store. I figured at the very least I could find some cheap goods.

It turns out that Thoronir is the proprietor of "The Copious Coinpurse", a dubious name for an establishment. He was proud of his low prices, but refused the answer any questions as to his sources. Later, as I was out exploring the city, I came across Thoronir and one Agarmir, surreptitiously meeting up in a small park. So I slunk to within earshot and overheard Agarmir informing Thoronir of another shipment of ill-gotten gains, and for Thoronir to be ready to move them along. So it looks like Jensine and the merchant society were right in their suspicions!

I tailed Argamir back to his house. I will have to get in there when he's not around to see what is really going on.

After that little job is done, I will probably head on out to the Weynon Priory. This Amulet is getting to be too much of a burden, both physically and spiritually. Time to cut lose from this pressure and move along.

Last Seed 30, 3E433, 5pm : Once again, I am blessedly above ground - thanks be to the Nine for that! A long, arduous journey through the labyrinthine corridors of the Velverin catacombs has finally come to a close, and I am heartily glad to be breathing fresh, clean, evening air once again!

What a fool was I to think my travails were over after I vanquished the bandits! Were I only to know that my troubles had just begun, and that I had barely begun to scratch the surface of the evil lurking within, perhaps I may have headed to the surface much earlier. But the draw of a closed door proved to be too much for my still surprising verve, and so I continued down from my camp at the bandits lair.

Down those steps, I was set upon by undead too numerous to count. Skeletal warriors who attacked at first sight. Once, trodding upon a raised stone, a secret door unveiled an zombie horror, who required all in my arsenal to subdue! Only through judicious use of my Turn Undead spell could I fend him, or rather it, off long enough to heal up and begin the attack anew. We battled for several rounds, until my conjured skeleton finally dealt his death blow, releasing him from the horrors of being undead.

Treasure there was, especially in the guise of the white, glowing Welkynd Stones. I even uncovered a rare Varla Stone, trapped beneath a strange iron contraption. And the Ayelid Statue that I pried from the grasp of long rotted corpse! Hideous prison cells and many other hidden doors all helped to raise the horror, aye, even the excitement, of it all.

After many trials and tribulations, I finally came upon the diabolical fiend who ruled this putrid underworld. I surprised him at labor in his very own heart of darkness and quickly dispatched him with arrows of rage. His name was Jalbert, a hideously immoral being who's very hand penned a confessional letter I recovered. He was actually proud of his nefarious experiments, using the bandits and other hapless wanderers as vile ingredients in his evil stew.

I continue to surprise myself. My feelings of victory and confidence, virtually unknown to me in the past, are welcome new friends. I sit here, enjoying the setting sun, watching for a future full of promise and thrill.

After I talked with Baurus, I used the key he gave me to enter the sewers. Cold, dark, wet and foreboding, these sewers housed several dangers, including more rats and a couple of goblins lurking about. My sneaking and bow skills, as rudimentary as they are, came in handy, as I slowly moved through the sewers. I burst out into the blazing sun, blinking like a blind man given new sight. What a relief, to be free of the stinking cells, sewers and caves of the Imperial Prison!

Across the small river before me, I could see some ruins. Before I checked them out, though, I also noticed some interesting plants, which could be used in some alchemy experiments I've been planning. I just dabble in the Alchemists trade, but it can generate some nice coin and the folks back home were appreciative of my efforts. I even managed to find a Nirnroot plant, something I'd only heard about as vague rumors. I'll have to ask around in the Imperial City to see if I can get more information about the plant.

After a quick and invigorating swim, which helped to reduce my own overpowering stench, I crept around on the island. I felt little or no remorse while dispatching a few unruly bandits camped out in the ruins, and I gathered up a few of their items, although the pickings were slim. More interesting plants were found here as well, but even more incredible was the opening to a dark crypt or dungeon or whatever it is. I really didn't want to delve back underground, but my curiosity was overwhelming and thus I began my journey down the dark steps.

The place was crawling with more vermin, both of the animal and human kind. None were a match for my stealth and unerring accuracy, though. Keeping to the shadows gives me a quick, nearly mortal, surprise shot. Following this with a fireball often finished the job, although sometimes the battle became more fierce and I was forced to use my shock and cold touches. Again, treasures were minor, but the confidence the victories engendered was priceless.

Here I am now, a few levels down, gnawing on some excellent mutton by the fire of the erased bandit leader. I feel strangely empowered and, even more peculiarly, purposeful, as I explore this dark underground cathedral. Up until now, my life has been a vacuous one, going from day to day with little reason or intent. Perhaps it was the Emperor's confidence that instilled in me a new sense of being, a part of the grand scheme of things once again, a blank slate with a limitless future, like a babe newly born. Or maybe it was just being freed from a certain death, forcing me to reexamine a life wasted.

In any case, I feel like a new man, here in the Velverin catacombs (I've found some notes discussing this eerie, haunted place). Despite the feeling of unseen eyes on my back, and the overpowering evil of this place, my spirit rises to the challenge and I feel in charge and in control of my own life for perhaps the first time, no longer tossed and turned by forces unseen.

And for some reason, just before the final assassin materialized, Emperor Septim gave the the Amulet of Kings, which he said I was to give to his heir. I think he was cracking under the strain - why would he give me, an escaped prisoner, the very symbol of power for Tamriel? It makes no sense, but I feel I must try and get the amulet into the right hands. Baurus, the surviving guard, told me I should seek out Jauffre, at the Weynon Priory, near Chorrol. I've never heard of any of these places, as my humble armpit of a village lays far to the south of here.

But Baurus assured me I could find the place, and even gave me a key to get down into the sewers to make my escape. Here I sit, steeling myself for the climb down and jotting down a few more notes. Just what have I gotten myself into? But surely it is better than the guillotine. My meager training as a Witchhunter has stood me in good stead so far. A few flares here and there, a sneaky bow shot, and I have done alright for myself.

The Emperor also asked me about my sign, or the stars I was born under. A very mystical guy, he was, but I don't believe in any of that. Being born under the sign of The Ritual gets me zip.

But that isn't even the strangest part. Emperor Uriel Septim claims to recognize me! The addled-pated bink actually seems to think I am a someone. Ha! The closest I've ever gotten to royalty is when the Imperial Tax Collector tracked me down and extracted his (late) pound of flesh from me every year.

No matter what the crazy Emperor might think, they left the huge sliding door open as they raced down the stairs, so I quickly followed behind them. They didn't seem to care I was nearby, and I was able to loot the bodies of some attackers they laid to waste a few moments later. It seems these red-robed Mythic Dawn assassins were able to take down the leader of the Blades, one Captain Renault, but I wasn't too proud to search the body for a weapon. The mystics also yielded up their robes and some potions as well.

The Emperor and a couple more of the Blades carried on, locking the door behind them. I've begun exploring another path, through a small hole in the wall. I'm jotting down these few words before I continue to explore the catacombs, as I catch my breath and steel my spine. Onward!

Welcome, kind reader, to my journal. Here I sit, in a pestilential dungeon, probably lost and forgotten. To take my mind off the future, I have decided to write about the past. Once the guards got over their shock at finding a prisoner who not only knew how to read, and actually wanted to write, they were kind enough to get me these few scraps of parchment, some ink and this flimsy pen. So I begin to jot down my story, glad for the distraction.

I am a Wood Elf and my name is Rhimmon Adricanno du Montfort y Cassualo, but my acquaintances call me Rhiadri. Note I say acquaintances. I am a loner, forging my own path, trusting no one. How ironic it is that I should be wasting away in this festering hellhole, framed by one of my few associates. I don't often get here to the Imperial City, but when called upon, I decided to take the trip. Much to my chagrin, it was merely to be framed for a despicable robbery and murder, after which I was tossed here, certain to die, either by illness, further treachery, or, most probably, by the guillotine.

There is some kind of commotion going on outside my cell door. I will put down my pen and investigate...