Tarvala Sul'Morin Journal Entry 8

Hey again Mr. Journal,

Been some time again. Isn’t it always? Things have been hectic with missions, work at the Abbey, and largely, the attack on Necrom. Which is where my family is. Large swaths of it were destroyed and sacked by a fleet of Osmer. I had worried for days if my parents survived.

I’m a horrible person. Part of me, didn’t want my mother too and another part did. My father, he’s always been good to me, but he’s older and doesn’t get around like he used too. Old battles he doesn’t talk about, miles upon miles on the roads and at sea, likely putting up with my mother, all that and he was always so good to me. Three, what kind of daughter only wants one of her parents to survive when so many others lost everything?

They are both alive though. One of father's business trips to the countryside saved them, he always had an instinct for trouble brewing on the horizon, it must come from the time of reading all of her moods and shifts in personality. High Ordinator Lilelle was the one that found them, or her scouts rather. She actually used resources for me, to try and help ease my mind. I’ve grown to like her, alot.

Yes, she’s abusive, abrasive, and has beaten me senseless, but that was all for a purpose, to make me stronger as an Ordinator and a woman. Unlike my mother, who did it only to keep me small and scared, no matter how big I grew. She would be combing me hair and singing, and hit a tangle, before I’d know it, I would be getting hit on the head and back with the flat of the brush and shouted out for not taking care of myself and how I never appreciate all she does for me.

“We feed and clothe your worthless orc-sized hide, and oh, how much you eat and how many new clothes you need. You’ll eat us out of house and home, close down our entire shipping operations just to feed you. You’re the reason your father has to work so long, just so he can feed his fat ugly orcish daughter!” I remember that one, every word hurt more than the thud and thump of the flat of the brush on my naked back.

I’ve never known why she would fly into rages like that. They only happened when father wasn’t around, which as she said, he wasn’t much. He really did work a lot. She wanted me to be a priestess for the Tribunal, which.. I mean, was okay. I was raised on the Three and I do love them in my heart, but I never felt I was going to be good at that. I get nervous… got nervous, in front of lots of people, and I hate robes and dresses. Though I do try these still now and then to fancy things for Magistrix Sebaya and when Lilelle teases me for wearing leathers a lot. It’s different though, I do that because, I want too.

Then going to the Temple, the… I don’t know why but the priestesses there were just as harsh and cruel as mother was. Is it bad that part of me thinks, believes truly, that she inspired them too? The Magistrix there, Magistrix Yimsiliv, and her are old, old friends. Grew up together. I’d swear to the Three that she told them all the things she believed of me in her mind, and my “new start” as father had hoped it would be, turned out to be a continuation of torment.
I should tell that story some time, all of it. Not now though. I thought maybe writing some of this would make me feel better, help me work out the conflicts in my mind but, it’s only made me feel worse I think. The memories coming back all the stronger along with the ways it always made me feel, worthless, clumsy, to big to be a proper lady dunmer.

A few at the Abbey have helped with that… told me I’m, not some horrible orcish dunmer halfbreed. Lilelle is one, the Magistrix, I even got hit on at a ball, but it was a Dres so, I’m not sure that counts. The time I spend in the armor of the Ordination and the face of Saint Neravar I always feel strong, and confident, but that time isn’t the whole me, just what I might be, one day without it and at all times? That sounds silly, I know but… I don’t know, it’s all silly.

I hope ALMSIVI can find forgiveness for the way I feel towards my mother and myself.

Take care, Mr. Journal

Tarvala Sul'Morin Journal Entry 7

Mr. Journal,

Time to tell the rest of this tale. I’m sure you have other things to do than listen to me, like gathering dust, making eyes at the spell books across the room, and wondering if that strange inner squirming in your pages was bookworms or not. Good news, it wasn’t. Turns out I smashed a beetle in you without noticing last time. Don’t worry, it was towards the back and only left a bit of a black smudge there. I turned it into a doodle of a beetle in his memory. I named him Ashlander as that is the way all ashlanders end. Smooshed in the pages of history with only a doodle to be remembered by.

So where was I? Ah, had to flip through the last few pages but, I remember now. The “Battle of Bodrums Wall”. Fifty-two ordinators of war against the thronging mobs of escaped khajiiti slaves three-hundred strong, two-hundred of which were former dominion soldiers. Ok, it was technically two-hundred and ninety-four in total and two-hundred and eight were soldiers but that’s a lot to write out and makes for a far less dramatic story, but for the sake of posterity, that’s the true numbers. Also, a few of those civilians were children and elderly. I don’t count women as separate any more than I would for dunmer. If it can hold a sword and has claws and teeth, it is dangerous. After all, I care little if a wild panther trying to kill me is male or female when it’s trying to kill and eat me.

The battlefield looked like this give or take. The fifty-two Ordinators were atop a S shaped path that rose a good twenty or so feet as it wound to us. The great wall at Bodrum separating our lands from the N’wah’s, and the slaves freedom, was at our backs. From our vantage we could see the curve ahead and follow it below us into the distance. We had the highground. On either side of this path was large mushrooms and ancient gnarled tree’s. It was a good position for us, very bad for them. The only reason I believe they even thought they could pass here was that they still had not realized their “leaders” had been broken and thus our entire force was here, not back in Bodrum proper defending.

They expected to swarm over us like locusts. To trample the Three’s chosen and turn the earth red with our blood. Surprise, assholes! Ooops, sorry… thinking of it gets my blood pumping again, that wasn’t very Lady-like.

In the distance we could see them. They had acquired basic weapons, those on the frontline were armed with swords, shields, maces, etcetera, etcetera. Some of which were rusting others looked brand new. Of course a rusty mace can smash your face in just as easily as a polished one. Behind this first line was those with farming implements. Hoes, shovels, scythes, and other farm implements, likely stolen from nearby farms.

“Here they come! We are the final line between them and the Dominion receiving hundreds of new soldiers and snubbing their nose at the Tribunal! This we can not allow to happen! Prepare to fire long range spells on our mark!” I shouted, trying to sound as inspirational as I could. I won’t lie, I was afraid. You have to be. Fear puts you on edge, gives you an edge. I wasn’t just afraid for my life though, I’d happily give that up for another of my brothers or sisters, but for failing them and my mission. I never asked him, but… I think Siyo felt the same. If his speech, which by the way, was way better and more inspirational than mine. He definitely had the silent guardian thing going, and when he spoke, they listened and rallied. Anyway, his speech was a good one and showed the fire burning deep in him.

The slaves… though not slaves at this point, they really were a small army, badly supplied perhaps, but an army, began to run at us. A hissing, snarling, roaring stampede. The lion looking ones apparently can actually roar like their four legged cousins, who knew?

We waited, patiently for them to get in range and Siyo and I spoke as one, “RELEASE!” “FIRE AT WILL!” The blue arcs of lightning and the red glow of fire bloomed on that hill top. It was actually quite beautiful in its own horrible, destructive way. Long shadows pulled back from us and away from the trees, as if darkness itself wanted nothing to do with the battle taking place near it but couldn’t pull away far enough from their earth bound tethers.

The front line exploded. Red mists and clumps of fleshy fur shot into the air. The line behind them ran over their burning and smoldering frontline and the line behind them picked up the weapons of the fallen. I’ll give it to them, they never stopped. There were fully committed. It was freedom or death. There was no in between. At least as this point.

We continued our barrage but it was becoming obvious, by the time they reached us, there would still be three or four times more of them than us. We just didn’t have the numbers to counter theirs. “Siyo! Take down the that mushroom before you, make it fall over the path, I’ll get this tree!” He nodded sharply with out looking, clearly understanding.

I chugged a quick potion of magicka. I have rather deep wells, very deep, I’m told, however nothing is infinite and I didn’t want to start to run dry while doing my new job as lumberjack. The tree was a tall thing, well over a hundred feet high with the roots showing and supporting it well out of the ground at the base. Like those trees you see in swamps and around Morrowind all over. I really should find out what those are called. I just call them “Spider-trees”, because that’s what they remind me of.

Blasting the roots in the direction of the incoming khajiit with concentrated balls of explosive magicka, the roots exploded one by one. The sap inside superheating and adding to the explosive power. Half way through them, it began to topple. The sound was enormous as the roots still clinging to the earth pulled out the back end and the entire thing slammed into the pathway. Unfortunately, it was to slow in falling, most were able to get out of its path, but even then, they had to then climb over and through the massive limbs and trunk giving us that much more time to hit them from afar.

Siyo was far more successful with his mushroom, only having the one stalk or just his skill at cutting mushrooms, I’m not sure, but he easily smashed fifteen between the bell and stalk of the shroom. They both fell in such a way that it was a tangled mess and that little trick easily made it so that we could manage from here. Even though close quarters was inevitable.

From here, it’s a blur once we got hand to hand. I know I took an cut to my calf and Siyo took two daggers in the arms, one of which was still in his forearm at the end when the battle lust faded. I do remember one thing, our only loss actually. Ordinator Timund of House Redoran, he jumped before a thrown spear and heroically saved one of his other brothers. It took him in the armpit and dug into his heart. He was dead before he fell to the ground. Three watch him and his ancestors.

At this point, the remaining forty or so khajiit began to throw down their arms, putting their hands up shouting, “We surrender.” “This one gives up!” “Please, do not kill us!” “We have children!” They hid behind their young like shields. Not all of them, some were protecting them, but all were trying to surrender.

“Surround them! Drop your weapons!” The Ordinators, exhausted and tired, did as ordered as did the khajiit. Our orders were not to take survivors. This was war. War never changes. An enemy allowed to live today, will be your enemy again tomorrow. Siyo nodded to me, understanding this as well as I did without a word exchanged between us. “Kill them. Wipe them out, all of them.”

Fifty-one ordinators in a circle made that center a burning inferno from which nothing but light escaped.

The day was won. The slave revolt suppressed and a story to go and be heard among other slave camps as to what happens to those that raise blade against the Temple. I don’t revel in death, as I’ve seen some Ordinators. That they enjoy the act of killing, of watching a soul leave the body, and the powerful feeling that might come with such acts. I’m not sure if that is better or worse, truly, but to me when it comes to outlanders and n’wah, it is just a job. Like a chore to be done around the house. Yes, it is a bloody and dangerous chore, but most duty is.

Yes, I sleep well enough at night. I do hear the cries now and then in my sleep, but I’ve seen far worse at this point done to my own people. The world can be ugly like that, especially when your job is to look for it, as ours is.

Well, Mr. Journal. That is the story of how I became an Ordinator and my Trial of Mastery. Many things have happened since then as well, plenty of which I’ll tell you here, but not today. I think that’s enough for today.

Tarvala

Tarvala Sul'Morin Journal Entry 6

Hey Mr. Journal,

It’s been awhile but so much has happened! First… I’M AN ORDINATOR OF WAR! I was risen alongside my Trial partner Siyo. It was great. My heart still swells near to bursting when I think of and put on that golden armor. I spend about half an hour every day cleaning and polishing it. It’s almost routine now but I find it relaxing and it lets my mind unwind.

So, how did I get there? You always know what questions to ask Mr. Journal, it’s almost as if you’re told what to say. Wish it was that easy with everyone. Heh.

When last I spoke I told you of that “Beastmaster” of a Lord, Relur the traitor and his cat love the resistance leader of the slave rebellion Ri’kaan. They were caught under the bridge blaspheming basically everything holy and just and taken into custody with an impending attack and escape.

We had about a week. Gathering intel, letting them sweat it out in the cells below the city’s main manor. His own house cells, which has a poetic irony to it in my mind. They finally got to live together in his own house, separated only by fifteen feet and matching pairs of iron shackles. Which is all the sweeter that she’s the one that killed him, but that’s getting ahead of myself.

Siyo and I went down the dungeon, it was pretty much what you expect. Smells of musky dirt, damp stone walls, and dank despair. Also urine… they always smell faintly of urine. Part of the interrogation process to “dehumanize” them in their own minds, weaken their resolve, but it’s still something we have to pretend we don’t smell. Seeing the dunmer lord there penned up with his lady love just across the way. I got a sort of idea.

Giving Siyo a slight nod and lift of my head he returned it, understanding the small exchange and moving to the khajiit while I took Relur, knowing both would hear what I had to say. I pulled out a folded up parchment with a red imprinted wax seal. He looked defiantly up at me, red hatred in his eyes and just a bit of fear.

“Greetings Relur. I have questions for you.” My voice was calm and controlled, I was in my armor, an Ordinator. I don’t doubt myself, none of the self loathing, and second guessing as an Ordinator. You have a plan, a goal, a mission… You get it done.

He snarled and scoffed, “I’m not going to tell you anything!” His voice said one thing, his eyes however, followed the parchment, saying another.

“That will be a shame. See, you are not alone in your act of defilement, Relur. What I have here, is an order from the Tribunal in Vivec city. You are to be stripped of your holdings and house. Your act was so heinous that as of this moment up stairs, your lordling younger brother is being placed under arrest. He will be put to death along with you and your house will go the way of that which we no longer name.”

“NO! You leave him alone! He knew nothing! He’s just a boy! YOU MONSTER!” Spittle flew from his lips. Funny how I remember that. I could see them almost as if time had slowed down as they arced out through the air, landing in little dark droplets upon the stone floor.

“Now, now…. I’ll make you a deal. You tell me what I want to know, and your brother, will live. He may not have the life he is used to, likely he’ll be sent to serve at a Temple somewhere, but he’ll be fed, taken care of and work to undo your stain but, he’ll do it alive. All you have to do, is betray your lady love there and her people… not your people, Relur, but hers, and your brother lives. Which shall it be?”

His head was bowed low now, shoulders slumped and shaking. Looking to Ri’kaan he said, “I’m sorry….” She went wild. Like the feral cat she was. Pulling against her chains and cursing him to her peoples gods. Tears spilling into her matted fur and blood pooling around her restraints, so hard did she struggle to get hold of him.

He told us everything we wanted to know. His soul was defeated, his mind broken. Or, so he thought. As we were nearly to leave, Siyo had interrogated Ri’kaan and she basically confirmed everything Relur had told us by not answering. I paused as if I had just remembered something, taking out the slip of paper and handing it to Ri’kaan. “One last thing… please read this “writ” for me, out loud.”

Snatching it, she glared, clearly having no intention of doing so. Curiosity, however, is a hard instinct in cats to overcome. Popping the wax she read quietly at the first few words then slowly grew in volume, “ …. Eggs, bread… CHEESE, CARROTS, GUAR STEAK!?”

“That is correct, he sold you and your three hundred escaped slaves… for my grocery list,” I informed her. “Now that we have what we need… I see no reason not to reunite you and your love now. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Siyo lead Relur into the cage, pushing him forward and right into her arms. She wrapped her arms around him tightly. Claws dug in like daggers causing red blossoms to flower as they pierced tunic and skin. Sharp needle teeth pulled back from lips that once kissed him oh so tenderly, now dug into the flesh where his neck met his shoulder. A showering crimson spray flew from his main artery as she tore a fleshy wad of skin and muscle away.

She ravaged him one last time. Shouting and spitting like a lunatic, her mind seemed little more than the base animal from which she originated from. Siyo, likely a mercy he’d not meant to give, put her out of her misery with a blast of fire. No survivors was the order after all. It was just up to us on how to carry it out.

Do I feel any regrets? No.. oddly. You’d think I would, at least for Relur, he was a Dunmer after all but I was in my armor, my shell. This case was so clearly an abomination in the eyes of everything sacred and good, I actually slept like a stone that night. Of course, part of that was likely do to the battle that followed. Fifty-two ordinators of war, led by Siyo and myself, against nearly three hundred desperate slaves, two hundred of which were once trained dominion soldiers. All now moving towards the wall and the safety beyond. As it turned out, the attack on the town was not to happen, instead the entire force would move to the wall. In what is now known as the Battle at Bodrum’s Wall.

I think that’s enough for now though, I’ll tell the rest of the tale of our Mastery Trial next time, Mr. Journal. Besides, my wrist is starting to hurt again. I got thumped in a spar earlier, learn to dodge or block, Tarvala.

Until then, Three keep you safe!

Tarvala Sul'Morin Journal Entry 5

Hello Mr. Journal,

Just got done with a hot bath. Very hot… scaldingly so. I kept using my magicka to keep it hot enough I probably could have boiled myself some vegetables for dinner, if, you know, that wouldn’t be absolutely disgusting to eat bathtub food. Now, you ask me, why? Why would I feel the need to bathe in such hot water that my usual shade of blue skin was darkened by several shades like I got a sunburn? It was to feel clean again. Let me explain.

Siyo and I are on a mission, to suppress a khajiiti slave revolt. 400 of them escaped, 300 now at large, 200 of those are of fighting form and trained soldiers. We had feared that this force was going to come at the town and open up the path for the Dominion into our territory, force us to convert dunmeri and Pact forces away from the front lines. Thankfully, that does not seem to be the case. Though after what I saw? Sort of which that was the worst I had to have witnessed.

No, we interrogated a prisoner. My first, actually. I was nervous of course but, something happens when on put on that visage. Day to day, in the past, I never feel like I’m good enough, like I don’t measure up. Always second guessing everything I do or say. Replaying it over and over again in my head at night. Who I might have unintentionally insulted, who insulted or made fun of me. I hate it, I try not to but, the past creates us, even if the future is open.

When I put that visage on though, when I wear that gold and blue armor. There is nothing but clarity and my self doubt washes away. I know what I have to do, I don’t have time to hold back, because if I do, someone could die. Not just me, but my comrades in arms or civilians. With that mask I feel like I’m the person I always wished I could be.

It was like that with the interrogation. Siyo did much of the punishment, he did good as well. Lots of folding up his tail like sausage casing, squeezing the meat and breaking bones as he went from the tip down. I saw fear in his eyes, the Khajiit. Not just at the pain, but my promise to him if he had lied to me. I threatened that if he had lied to us, that whatever gods or daedra he worshipped wouldn’t want the tattered, twisted, and shredded remains of his soul in the afterlife. That his loved ones wouldn’t recognize the sad pathetic piece of meat that remained, in this life and the next. …. He believed me. Fully, I think… I meant what I said, even if I didn’t know what I’d do to keep my word, but I would keep my word.

I didn’t take joy in it, it wasn’t my pride or trying to show off, it was just what I felt had to be done, to do my duty, to keep that town and our people safe. It didn’t even feel like it was me talking, it just .. flowed.

As it turns out, he wasn’t lying, so far. He let us know there was a mole. The traitorous kind, not the naked ugly things in the ground that try and twist your ankle by digging in the dirt. Just for clarification, Mr. Journal. We thought it would be an officer or some noble. So we went back to informed the Lordling, Relur. He got the position of leadership after his own father was killed in the revolt. He wasn’t there. Went off on his own.. Unguarded.
See where this is going? Trust me, you don’t, it’s actually far worse and goes back to the scalding hot water. Siyo and myself take off on a border patrol. Finding a dug out tunnel I’d collapsed once already, filled again with flint boxes. Also, footprints… Siyo has a really good eye. Last time he even spotted an archer I couldn’t make out from the leaves. Anyway, we followed those.

About fifteen minutes later, well outside of the town and its protective walls we see… you guessed it, the Lordling Relur. Casually walking without a care in the world off the trail and near enemy territory where the slaves are camped. Relieving himself on a tree, he didn’t see us and proceeded to a bridge, then under it, not over it. Siyo and I separated, each of us covering the end of the tunnel that formed under the bridge.

We heard the voices, a few words at first, and realized fully, he was the more and the traitor.. Three help me, why couldn’t that have been all there was? What do I speak of you ask? Well, it turns out the slave leader Ri’kaan, wasn’t a man… but a female khajiit. They spoke of the dangers of them meeting like this… then there was cooing, purring noises… then smacking and sucking noises, then grunting and heaving panting noises…. I lost it.

I came from around the corner, weapons in hand. They were half undressed, hands groping and, well, petting each other. I swear before I interrupted them with words, she was LICKING HIS HAIR, like a house cat does! It was one of the worst things I’ve seen…. And I recently had a deadra place skinless demons with screaming children skins for clothing pushed into my brain.

I said something, I don’t remember, I was in such shock but close was, “Okay, I can’t take this anymore. You are an abomination! That’s like making out with a house cat! Do you even know which of the six nipples to twist or do you just guess and hope it gets her purring?” Unintentionally, the shock of the arrival and the statement, I think, just left them stunned. They never even reached for a weapon. I knocked her out with my made, and Siyo got the, now Ex-Lord, in the same state.

We carried them back to town and let all the people know what had happened, so he could not garner support. I left them unclothed as we carried, so that they’d see them as they were dressed… or not, when we got there. Khajiit are furry everywhere. A 20 minutes walk back with fur spotted ass cheek right near my face. Just bouncing and giggling and this stupid tail poking out where the crack ends. I don’t need to know this much about Khajiiti anatomy.

We have them now in a cell to question and then to help repel the incoming swarm. Which is actually only going to be 50 fighters that will battle, as we are told. So that the rest can escape over the border.

But that’s the story. Up to now anyway. Why it was I felt the need to bath in such hot water… sadly, I can’t pour it into my brain and burn out the visions. I’m a bit shy about such things like love making but… ugggggg…. And yes, I just spelled out ugggg. It’s seriously that bad.

I have another story, about drinking (I DRANK!) with Dralyna and Tali… but I promised not to talk about details to anyone, even you, Mr. Journal, sorry. A promise is a promise. But it was good to feel normal around other people, not to be judged and to just… have fun.

Oh, also, the Magistrix said she’d teach me how to be courtly! I can’t believe she’d even waste her time with me but.. I was so excited I picked her up when I hugged her. She probably already regrets it but, if she gives up, that will be okay too, she’s a busy person. Just the offer is an honor.

But for now, I’m going to get to bed. G’night, Mr. Journal.

Tarvala Sul'Morin Journal Entry 4

Hello again Mr. Journal,

Been some time and I’m exhausted again. High Ordinatore Rajere has assigned myself and Siyo with defending a town and suppressing a slave uprising. I won’t lie, ALMSIVI would know anyway, it is terrifying. We are outnumbered nearly 4 to 1 and the slaves are former Dominion, or rather, current Dominion soldiers. Khajiit mostly from the manifests. We helped fortify the town near the border to Cyrodil and managed to get one for questioning.

This is what I’ve been training for though. To protect the homeland from all enemies, foreign and domestic. The Lord that allowed this to happen already payed with his life, his so however, has done as told and is clearly out of his element. I imagine he had not expected to be in this position so suddenly and was only a skirt chaser until recently. We have some time before the shit hits the fire though. Which is good, we’ll learn more soon.

I’ve also been training on my portals as well. If I’m going to be a full Ordinator soon, I need to get better at that aspect. Fire, earth, and lightning I can do and only continue to get stronger at, but portals are much finer in their needs for direction and spatial attunement. I don’t want to repeat of the last time after all. I think Command would be even less forgiving if I dropped a squad in the lake 15 feet off the ground, or worse, a lava flow. I’m improving though, so far I’m only off by a foot or two from the ground. I just have to trust myself and my instincts. So long second guessing myself for so long has been the hardest thing to overcome in all this training.

I know it’s silly and often the others at the Abbey don’t understand it. Everyone suffers abuse of some kind, even now, though Ordinator training has a purpose in its ways and isn’t for the twisted pleasure of others. So that they can be made to feel better of themselves by taking another down. It went on for so long that I never knew who to trust and some time after that, to never trust anyone myself.

Even when I’d done things correctly, that I KNEW were correct, I was told it was wrong. Only for another to do or answer the same way and get full credit. The setups were often the worst. I’ll have to tell the stories sometime but not right now. Perhaps after the mission is over. Here and now, Tarvala, focus on the here and now. They aren’t around. Here you are doing ALMSIVI’s true will for you. Hold onto that. You are only as good as your next mission….

Tarvala Sul'Morin Journal Entry 3

Hello Mr. Journal,

It’s been a bit, but I’ve been very busy. Great news first! I’m an Initiate and took my first vows! My hands were shaking I was so excited as I listened to High Ordinator Rajere say the words and go over the story of the Saint Neravar and Alm. It was short notice as I’d passed my test of Mercy a few days earlier but Ivulhe showed up and so did another Ordinator Rir. Not many, but Ivulhe was there and … she hugged me after I teased her. When she made initiate Rajere had told her to “Stand and embrace your Brothers and Sisters” Which, she did, literally. Hugging and embracing all those gathered until the High Ordinator cleared his throat and told her it wasn’t meant to be literal.

I noticed he has since changed that last line. Anyway, she did it all the same. She’s a good friend, my first real friend since I was a little girl and before I started to grow larger than the others and the rumors they started to spread that I was half nord or orc and scorned me. I should let it go but to this day I still don’t really like kids. I mean, I don’t wish harm on them or anything but, I never know what to do with them…. Or like being near them… or listening to them.

Anyway, the visage is taking some getting used too. It cuts back on the visual range by a bit, but the protection it affords is worth the trade. I trained in heavy armor plenty, so that’s no big deal, and the fit is amazing. Other than the weight itself, my range of movement is fantastic. Even with the greatsword from fallen Ordinator Reylin that set me on this path. I much prefer the greatsword and now that I’m an Initiate I can request to use it in combat! I have to prove my skills with it first though, not sure how that works but I imagine it will include a spar with another Ordinator or a field test. I welcome either, anything so that I may better serve ALMSIVI and protect my Brothers and Sisters the better.

Of which, I’ve been getting to know some better. Samel, Kanara, who isn’t is an Acolyte but still always coming on missions when able and very useful, and of course Ivulhe. One I still haven’t gotten to understand is High Ordinator Lilelle. In many ways she’s one to be admired and even envied in her strength but in others, I believe she needs the grace and peace of ALMSIVI to calm her anger. Everything she says and does is a confrontation with all those around her, even the other High Ordinator. Less so with the Commander, but even there at times she’s just so.. Intense. She definitely keeps me on my toes and her skills.. She’s definitely Telvanni, not doubts there. She makes portals the same way some people blow their nose. I wonder if she’d be willing to help me with that. My portals are always unstable and once, at Temple, I opened one to a nearby lake shore, only it was in the middle of the lake… twenty feet up. That was not a good week, our Magistrix passed through first.

Ok, it’s a little funny now, she was horrible, nothing like Magistrix Sebaya is. She was a vile, petty, woman who was only after her own self interests, sometimes I think even before the Three’s.

Then there’s Samel. I don’t get him, he’s lead by passion and gets himself into situations time and again rushing into a fight that should require thought and tactics. It’s almost got him killed on at least two separate occasions I’ve seen. He has a good heart and it’s in the right place but I worry it is going to take a death to temper his will, and more so, I worry it won’t just be his own.

Kanara I’ve also gotten to speak with. He’s very strange in a lot of ways. Kind, but strange, he’s Telvanni as well though, so, that’s to be expected. They are a very talented but eccentric lot, that House. I have learned a great deal from him though, in his classes. I’m not as fast on the uptake as many but with his step by step instructions, I actually do rather well with some practice after the fact! I can breath water, though I do not like it at all, walk on it, which was only a variation of the floating spell, and also swim quickly almost like one of those filthy argonians! Also how to dispel a few different barrier wards!

I practice some of the spells in my time before bed or when I need to give my muscles a rest.

Then of course, Ivulhe. I felt for her, she accidently killed a mother and a child, sure they were Khajiit but even when you kill a dog and her pups it still can bother you. Clearly it affected her a great deal after the fact. Maybe she’s known some of them and has thought of them like real people? I’m not sure. I’ve never had much interaction with such races outside of slave pens and servants and a handful of “free” merchants around Morrowind. Anyway, I sat with her and spoke while she processed. She seems to be better about it now at least, though I suppose somethings only make you dull inside.

I wonder if that is what happened to Lilelle? One to many missions of seeing things people shouldn’t have to see and then she just, shut it off, so that she could continue to serve? I’ll probably never know, but speculation keeps the mind sharp I suppose.

Anyway, Mr. Journal, it’s time to get some breakfast and start the day. ALMSIVI in every hour!

Tarvala Sul'Morin Jouranl Entry 2

Hey Mr. Journal!

Sorry if the penmanship is sloppy, I can barely feel my arms. Or legs… or hips… or back… I think even my hair has gone numb. I’ve gained like five pounds or more since I’ve gotten to the Abbey, what with the constant runs and push ups and fighting. If the priestesses at the Temple in Necrom could see me now. They always gave me a hard time for my size, like it was my fault I just kept growing. At least here it’s finally an advantage. I threw the Archon!

Ok, so… he still beat me like a drum, but I got a few hits in. By the Three it was so exciting! It was a few weeks ago after training and AMAZING steak. I got a blow in, he got in a few more, then he kneed me in the stomach and all I could think as air rushed out of me was… grab it and throw! Then he …. Did something, I think I blacked out on the way down but only for a second. Still, as sore as I was, I learned a lot during that fight. Biggest is, his bite is just as big as his bark.

A few recruits got promoted to Initiate, one of them, Ivulhe, I like. She’s been very helpful to me as I learned the ropes, I was very honored to be there for her promotion. Also Nethala, she’s a full Ordinator, has been as well. Because of the things at my previous temple, I don’t know… I just never could learn what I needed. Stealing my books and parchments or, replacing them with ones with wrong information. It’s not been easy. Still, she said she’d help me and I will definitely be doing so. She’s the reasons I’m so sore right now, she’s a harsh task master but not completely unfair.

Mmm, there was a pack of werewolves. It was very sad actually. Some kind of alpha beast as leading them, smart enough for speech even, or was. A few injuries, only one or two severe. The worst though, was a dunmeri woman who was clearly bitten. Archon Raj tested her and her blood fairly boiled off the silver. I’ve seen it before, there was no hope for her, she was already turned, just not transformed. Some of the other recruits struggled with the concept and Rajere put a blade into her heart. It was his duty and he didn’t act like it was anything but dispatching a monster that was pleading for her life. I’ve learned enough though, he did execute her as painlessly and quickly as possible. I have not entered into an easy life.

I’ve been so busy with training and trying to “fit in” and do as I’m told, I’ve not really made any friends yet. Comrades, perhaps. Even without having taken my oath, I’ve done so in my heart and would give up my life for any one of them, but that’s not the same as being friends. I’ve never been good at it anyway, but perhaps with time that will change.

I better get to bed. I’m not on duty for some time tomorrow, but I’ve been continuing to practice with both my Ordinator weapons, the standard mace and shield, along with the greatsword I got from the fallen Ordinator Reylin during the ambush. It’s hard and I’ve little time for much else, probably why I don’t have friends, now that I think on it. Guess there will be time for that later, you know, if I survive that long.

Night Mr. Journal! Three watch over us!

Tarvala Sul'Morin Journal Entry 1

The book is simple. Bound in a dark brown leather with the wolf head insignia of house Indoril upon it as well as a simple lock and key latch binding it closed. Tucked away safely among her belongings, often wrapped up in her small clothes in the bottom most drawer.

“Starting over, a new chapter, requires a new book. Hello new book. My name is Tarvala Sul’Morin of House Indoril. Contrary to mother's wishes and self delusion, Sul’Morin is of some import but no where upon the scale she believes. Locally it is known, but few outside Necrom would know of it. There will be time later for mother though.

I’m at the Abbey. Under a Magistrix Sebaya Indoril, who is of the actual house, not a faker and hanger on like so many others… myself included. I’m here as an Ordinator, or will be, for now I’m nothing more than a recruit. It is a far step down after two years at Temple to be a priestess. The Commander and the Archons shout and yell and are very confusing individuals. They get onto me for their failures in leadership not having even informed me what I did was wrong before hand. No orientation, do’s and don’ts… At first this vexed me, greatly… now though, I wonder if that is not the point.

A test of our competence and current level of understanding and the correction itself is the actual teaching and leadership. Ordinators and the clergy are vastly different in their ways after all. The clergy were so focused on structure and etiquette in our devotion to the Three, were as the Ordinators are here to protect and destroy their enemies. There is no place for etiquette and polite words in a sword fight. I have only had this revelation two nights ago after a battle with a necromancer when I lay awake so sore and bruised sleep would not come. I am going to move forward with this thought in my heart and praying to the Three, I felt no nudge that it was otherwise. I will trust in them.

The fight with a necromancer, had me second guessing my choice leave the clergy but… I feel I was useful during the fight that ensued. I was one of the few standing at the end and so many were far more injured than I. I’d never felt anything like it though. The magicka was, twisted, evil to a level I’d never experienced in my life. The zombies, the weak ones, as they got killed empowered the rune. We know this, everyone does except N’wah’s and fools. The necromancer knew we would, and thus let his zombie charges soak for, what had to be days in a river. They fell apart like dandelions under a child's breath. The slightest touch, the barest shove, it was actually a brilliant idea. Evil, but brilliant.

The rune itself grew to such power even the Archons were unable to stand. It felt as though a nest of starved rats were released with in our guts and then those rats were set afire and eaten by some larger daedric demon dog that then started to dig a hole. Even that barely describes what it felt, but I believe you get the idea. In the end though, it exploded. Destroying a windmill and injuring anywhere near it. I was far enough away due to a Anorach I got hit with large pebbles and stones, the blast only knocking me over and ringing my head like a bell.

It was chaos. Everyone survived though, I can only imagine by the will of the Three, how else could so many survive so close to such a blast? Thank their divine grace for that. As much as I want to be promoted in the ranks, that is not the way. I will earn that.

For now though, I must get some rest. Standing at attention during a debate tonight was exhausting, not the standing itself, but rather listening to some of the “arguments” made by many of the people participating. It was entertaining, true, but far more enlightening. You can learn much from listening to others and more so when given a direct topic.

For now though, Mr. Journal, ALMSIVI in every hour.