Authors Note: Ok this is my first fan-fic so be gentle with me! My main character isn't so much an OC hero/heroine but someone from Earth somehow ending up on a very real Nirn, in Cyrodiil as the prisoner, reacting as realistically as I'd imagine a person would. I managed to purposely avoid defining this unamed person by gender, so you the reader may consider seeing through his/her eyes (even when encountering the pervy Orc.)
This is mainly journal based from the perspective of a game player who has the misfortune of being noticed by an immortal, and learns things dont necessarily go as you might predict, and may not go well at all, when such beings have begun to involve theirselves with events that have not yet occured. When Earth has the misfortune of being noticed...
As a running theme I'll reflect on the how game mechanics of magic and everyday living might be explained on such a world, how the OC grows and changes, and refer as subtly as I can to various tropes which occur in the games. Hope you spot them. Reviews greatly appreciated!
~This squiggle marks the start and end of each journal entry.~ Entries may continue over chapters. The reason OC finds time to write a diary so often in the midst of all this is because each entry is actually more a last testament. Each time deep down, they are hoping to be home again, woken from the nightmare, or expecting to die, the truth dying with them.
A little will be narration.
-Finally a little will be speech by other characters, Azura for one.- Marked as such with a dash and speechmarks.
Disclaimer: Bethesda and Oblivion aren't mine of course, if they were I'd do a better job spell-checking. Rating T, some varying levels of violence & injury, minor language.
Chapter 1 Azura's Whim.
From the shifting light of her realm, her gaze extended to the lonely star far from her sky; her interest fell on the realm of its souls. Azura… had greater scope in power than too many realised.
~ I don't know whose journal this was, but it's mine now. I just need to write down what's just happened. If only to make myself admit this is really happening. I need to think. If anyone finds this- IM NOT FROM HERE! I woke up in a cell in your prisons but Im NOT a criminal. My name wont be in your records, it cant be. Please believe me, I need someone to, or to help me or this message get back home.
This thing's water damaged a while back it seems, remaining pages are falling out and I can barely make out the faded writing. Even after trying to pick out legible words only found a few; 'dust storms, 'contract', 'attacked', 'travel to…' somewhere I cant make out. Days at the top of one page still show 'Day 239' I think, so counting on it must have covered over a year. Sorry but I'm writing over it, no use wasting, and I need to leave a note in case I dont make it. People have to know what's happened to me. Quill-pen works surprisingly well at least, still ink in its sealed chamber.
No time. I'd better move soon, I'm too near the tunnel to feel safe yet, and light's fading fast anyway. Gonna get round walls and into the city at least, figure out my next move from there. Better run. ~
~ Ok crate by lamppost will have to do. Quiet spot, only guards wandering by.
The last thing I remember was pausing to stare at the stars. Had been a great Halloween night out in town. Its not fair. God my parents will think I've been murdered or kidnapped. Shit.
When I woke in the cell I thought It was bad enough, how could I have been arrested? Wasn't that drunk and I'm not the sort to get in trouble. Maybe was denial but my mind took time to put together all the details that were wrong. Grey walls, stone, not painted. Floor too; cold and dirty with straw. Table, stool… wooden. When I saw the manacles and bones I felt like an idiot, instantly believing I'd been propped up in a Halloween display in one of the bars as a prank. Hand to head I prepared for my friends' laughter and decided to go easier on those shots in future.
But I stood there for a while with the cold air clearing my head, waiting for the punchline, the laughing, my friends... Waiting. The realisation there was a complete lack of voices and music I KNEW was there moments before finally hit. It had to be moments, I'd still briefly been able to taste the lingering cigarette smoke in the air. All the damn time my instincts worked faster than my groggy mind; this was no joke. The bones I nudged at with my foot, too solid and brittle to be plastic or even resin. Not my shoes! My clothes were rags, my costume's gone. Certainly not my bracelets. Not bracelets. And you know the funniest part of this whole damn, STUPID joke is? I knew where I was. Recognised it straight away even though I shouldnt. Because IT CANT BE.
Walking up to the bars was the only way to be sure, and there he was. Red eyes. Blue-green ashen skin, silver hair, and… "Oh look, an Imperial in the Imperial prison…" He went on a bit. Wow that voice. Tried to say I don't think I'm an Imperial and he scoffed. "What are you then? Breton? Nord runt?... Orc?" He wasn't speaking English and neither was I, but it came so naturally my deluded mind didn't register. Im writing in English. But I can understand what people round here are saying, and I can read those shop signs. Strange - it's like I've always known this language.
The others came moments later, voices and faces eerily near matching those in the game. A damn game. How is this possible? I tried asking what was going on, but I meant why was I here in this jail, and who were they, really? They were in a serious hurry so my protests I shouldn't be here went ignored or spoken over so I just numbly followed. I was gonna ask again and they could explain it all, I swear that's all I was thinking, because nothing was ACTUALLY going to happen down there was it? First thing I did was walk through a damn cobweb down the steps, brushing it off my face still as they were attacked. Any lingering remnants of hope it was an elaborate trick were gone when I checked for that womans - Captain Renault's pulse, finding none, just blood. The first attack had seemed focused on her specifically. She's actually dead.
Saw it all happening as I expected it would. -Once I was alone in there I was still dazed, but giant rats leaping at your face have a way of snapping you out of that. Flailed out and struck them dead in a panic. Lucky they were so weak. Carefully took Renault's sword from the floor. Tried a few swings like a baseball bat, that had to do. I knew I had no choice but to follow the only way out. And I knew I'd have to retrain my focus faster if I wanted to survive what I knew was ahead and make it outside. Maybe I could have gone back to the cell and waited, but I just had a feeling it was a really bad idea. If the assassins were chasing and searching, or if the other guards caught up, either might have killed me. I was scared.
But with a last glance at the lifeless Captain, I decided what if things didn't have to happen like that, if I just moved fast enough maybe…?
