Today's adventure begins like so many others.
With me taking a nap.
I don't think I've actually slept without being interrupted for a while.
Looks like that streak continues.
I remember you. You were in the Crypt where I ended the Armor stuff. You gave me a hammer.
I like you.
Well actually I kind of took care of that with the Guards already.
Even if I hadn't you are still pretty late.
Kind of liking you less, buddy.
And he was actually serious about attacking me.
Oh well.
The fight boiled down to me hitting him once and him surrendering.
He is an old man, I guess.
But once he was Young and Heroic and all that jazz.
He talks to me about Ancestry and then leaves.
He also mentioned a book about him that is apparently important to the quest.
And I have to go to Leyawiin to get it.
I hate Leyawiin. The buildings are confusing and weirdly designed.
I buy the book from an orc.
What an orc is doing with books I don't know. I thought they were the "Smash stuff and then smash more stuff" race.
Anyway, the book is about Pellew and how he defeated a fiend.
Apparently Pellew is Half-Angel and he used the power of his ancestry to defeat evil.
And then he got old.
My journal regards finding my Ancestry important, though, so I guess I should do that.
I seek out the Imperial Registrar.
Registrar is a funny word.
And apparently I have no family.
Furius Smashman is alone in the world...
I need a nap.
God damnit man.
This is like the fifth night in a row I have woken up to this kind of crap.
He asks me about my Orphan status and tells me a story.
A story about a man who didn't know who his family was until he got naked and someone noticed a birthmark on his back.
Which means it is time for me to get naked in the presence of an old man.
an old man who watches me sleep.
The search is successful at least. I have some sort of Runic symbol on the heel of my right foot.
This paper is supposed to show me what it looks like. It does not.
It just dawned on me that I'm using a mysterious artifact to trace my long-lost heritage. Along the way I employ the help of a mysterious old man who guides me with sage wisdom.
It's too bad the Oscars are over. I'd have more Academy Awards than I could carry.
But for now tracing my family roots will suffice.
I show the good Professor the rune from my foot.
It is a rune of the Marcomannic dialect. I am not pop flyin' about this.
Marcomanni is also known as the King of all Necromancer's. I am wearing a Necromancer symbol on my foot.
Ehothorn, eh? There are worst last names, I guess.
Although I doubt I can fit "Freddy Furius Ehothorn-Smashman" in a thread title.
Back to the Registrar.
He looks for the name Ehothorn in his book.
And he finds them!
They live in Cheydinhal, and they're nobles!
Oh joy, now I can meet my family.
I'm sure they will be pop flyin' to know that I have saved Cyrodiil multiple times.
Buuut the door is locked.
It's technically my house, so trespassing is not a problem, right?
It's a list of names.
Apparently the Ehothron family has some serious bad luck, and there is usually only one Female left alive at a time.
Won't they be glad to see their son alive?
Jounral hints that there may be more than one Ehothorn alive right now.
I kind of hope neither of them are my mother. I do not want a mom demanding that I always carry extra suits of armor "Just in case".
TO THE BAR!
Hmm, the Crypt?
I suppose that, once again, it is my family crypt too so it is not intruding to go there.
The bartender also mentions that the Ehothorn family almost always look alike. I'm sure that is unimportant.
The crypt is a wooden door.
That's it. It is just a wooden door on the ground. There is no crypt, no bodies, no Ehothorn tomb.
But I am notified that I hear a door opening and closing nearby...
And there's my possible sister!
Except she is an Imperial and I am a Redguard.
Something is amiss.
I have no idea what you are talking about. I am quite clearly not dead at the moment, nor have I ever been dead.
She comes to her senses rather quickly, though. Apparently I am nigh-identical to a very old friend of hers.
Why yes, Allecia, I have come to realize something.
Using my incredible detective skills, I Furius Smashman, have deduced that
Allecia has achieved some sort of immortality. To prevent people from noticing, she marries occasionally, uses copious amounts of Illusions, and pretends to be her own daughter every couple decades.
I tell her about the Ehothorn symbol on my foot.
But, sadly, I am not related to her in any way.
Although she is interested in finding out why I so closely resemble her friend and why I have a Marcommanic symbol for her name on my foot.
She offers to help me find my family.
I accept and-
What the hell is going on here.
The light changed and I am on the upper floor now and everything is shaking. What.
The shaking
will not stop.
I am leaving this loony bin.
Oh there you are- No, I have no idea what you are talking about again.
Seriously, what the hell do you mean?
The lighting is back to normal now.
That was weird.
Anyway, We're off to her old friends mansion, which was burned down.
Well this doesn't look so bad.
There's even some completely intact cheese in that cabinet.
She is all teary-eyed about her friend, though.
She starts reminiscing and oh god here we go again.
I am back in the house.
I suspect that this is actually the house that is now burned down.
Suspicions confirmed.
I really hope the house does not burn down while I am still hallucinating inside it.
You are not helping Allecia. I am already awake.
Astute observation, Sherlock. I was, in fact, dreaming.
Leave the detective work to me from now on.
See, I'm actually good at it. I find a book on the ground, which is unreadable.
And a tablet, also unreadable.
Allecia is like, a thousand years old, she should be able to read this ancient language stuff.
Now she cannot.
Although Smashman I was apparently working on it.
(Smashman I is what I am calling my ancient look-alike until I find out his real name.)
There are archaeologists who are working on it as well.
I must find them!
That is not an Archaeologist.
That is a lot of not Archaeologists.
They are just Wolves, though. I can one-hit those at my level.
I find a pack of Archaeologists that is not trying to eat my flesh, fortunately.
Although with his attitude he's ending up as smashed as the Wolves were.
Fortunately for his survival, he recognizes the language, but cannot translate it.
He does know where I can find a translation, though. There is a digsite somewhere in Cyrodiil where tablets like mine come from.
But Cyrodiil is a big place, and finding it without his help would be nigh-impossible. I have to hand over my slab to get the instructions.
I will probably end up killing him later as part of the quest so I will get it back.
There it is.
I have map markers nearby, luckily, so it's just a matter of Quick Travel.
Beyond this door lies the path to my
destiny. And most likely things trying to kill me.
I'm going in.