My Time in Hell: The Authorized Biography of Arch-Mage Sabastian Ashcroft

Recorded by Valin Elenil

Chapter One – The Making of a Mage

To set the stage. This was my first interview with Arch-Mage Ashcroft. We met in the back room of All Things Alchemicalin Skingrad. Prior to our meeting I learned that this shop was owned by his family.

A pleasant Dunmer of advanced age named Falanu Hlaalu met me at the door and ushered me into the back room. A lovely tray of meats and cheeses had been set out and a bottle of wine had been opened and decanted. I was offered a set and told rather harshly not to touch the wine until the Arch-Mage had arrived. It seemed like a curious instruction but Arch-Mage Ashcroft was a widely acknowledged curmudgeon so I felt compelled to stay on his good side.

I sat in that room for the better part of an hour waiting. I was sure at the time that the Arch-Mage was testing me, checking my mettle, though now I think he was looking for any excuse to call the whole thing off.

Eventually he arrived, a striking man in a simple plaid shirt and vest with burgundy pants. Hardly the dress of an Arch-Mage I thought, but there could be no denying that it was Arch-Mage Ashcroft in the flesh. He seemed to emanate a certain power that was both mysterious and off putting like the cloying scent of death covered by the smell of lavender. I remember staring at his hands for quite some time during this first interview. They looked…different from the rest of him…younger perhaps.

Without introduction or apologies he sat opposite me and poured himself a sizable amount from the decanted wine.

"Very well, let's get this over with shall we?" he began.

"Arch-Mage Ashcroft it is such an honor to meet you, my name is…"

He waved off my introductions with a look of annoyance on his face, "Look kid, I don't care who you are, I'm not here for your platitudes I've had enough of that in my lifetime."

"Ok then. Let's get right down to it. I'm here to interview you on behalf of The Black Horse Currier in the hopes that you can offer a…new interpretation of the Oblivion Crisis for our readers."

He took a sip of his wine contemplatively and paused. With a sigh of constrainment he began to speak.

"I guess the best place to start is the death of my father, Roberto Ashcroft. My father was born in Morrowind and as a young boy he served as a cook for Velanda Omani, a Hlaalu Councilor at the time, at her home Omani Manor. I'm not certain of his exact parentage, my father didn't speak of his life in Morrowind often, but somehow he was taken in by the Hlaalu family as a servant."

"My father was a good cook." at this the Arch-Mage smiled wistfully, "But he wanted more than a servant's life, so he began to study Alchemy from one of the House Cousins in the hopes of earning a life away from the Manor."

At this point the Arch-Mage paused reflectively, "You know…I always assumed that since we are Breton and not one of the Beast Races my father wasn't a slave. But now that I think about it common practice in Morrowind at the time was to sell unwanted children to the Great Houses to avoid starving." He chuckled mirthlessly, "Perhaps my father was a slave after all."

"Regardless my father sought a different life to the one he had been born into. He studied Alchemy in the hopes of achieving that life. He was not a particularly talented Alchemist it should be noted. It was not a passion for him, merely a job. He worked at his trade for many years before he was able to earn a place with the Hlaalu family outside the kitchen. And it was this new station that allowed he and my mother to meet."

Arch-Mage Ashcroft refilled his wine, seeming pleased that I had not partaken myself thus leaving the entire decanter for his own consumption, and continued his tale. "My mother came from very different circumstances. Her maiden name was Surilie…of the Skingrad Surilies…who's vineyards produced this very fine red I am enjoying today back in 399. I dare say this may be the last surviving bottle of that Vintage, are you sure you won't try a taste?"

I waved his offer away. Not much for wine I must admit, never found a taste for it, and I secretly hoped that he would become flush and open up to me.*

* I later came to find out just how naive I had been to think that alcohol would loosen Sebastian's tongue. In all my years before or since I have never met Man nor Mer that could hold their drink like he could!

"Anyhow, the two met when my mother accompanied my grandparents to Morrowind to inspect the lands around Omani Manor with an eye to plant grapes and enter into a partnership with House Hlaalu in production and distribution of their wines. As my mother tells it; Father, who was a few years her senior, was a handsome bad boy with an acerbic wit who wasn't afraid to speak his mind even when it cost him. The two apparently started a relationship during her time in Morrowind but she had responsibilities in Skingrad she had to return to so in the end they parted after only a few months."

"My father was never one to let anything stand in his way though. And he had decided that Abelle Surilie was going to be his bride." The Arch-Mage grinned sadly. "He was a stubborn man, always so certain that if he put his effort into a thing it would yield results. I suppose in that regard we are quite similar."

He made a snorting sort of 'hmpt' sound and finished his glass. Silence stretched between us as he refilled the fine crystal goblet he was using. I was struck by the fact that this was the likely most expensive thing in the room, or so I thought at the time. After the interview I researched the cost of the wine he was imbibing and was agog!

"My father knew that he could not earn enough money to travel to Cyriodiil working as an Alchemist for Councilor Velanda. He needed another way and soon he found it."

"I don't know how much you know of Morrowind history, but in my father's time huge dust storms ravaged the lands bringing various diseases collectively known as Blight Disease. The Great Houses were sending groups of Housemen beyond the Ghostfence into the area around the Red Mountain to research these Blight Diseases in the hopes of finding a cure. These Expeditions as they were called were incredibly dangerous and many did not survive, but they paid more than my father could make in ten years working at the Manor."

"Father signed on in Vivec City, made arrangements with Councilor Velanda, bid the only family he had known his entire life adieu; and set off to join the Buoyant Armigers leading the Expedition at the Ghostfence. The Expedition was to spend 5 days gathering samples north of the fence and return."

"They lasted only 2."

"Unsurprisingly my father never shared his experience with me. I learned from my mother that three Mer lost their lives on the expedition and my father was decorated by the Buoyant Armigers for bravery. The medal he received was laid to rest with him in Memorial Cave where his body lies beside that of my mother. Unfortunately the medal was not all that he received for his time spent beyond the Ghostfence."

The Arch-Mage's voice turned bitter at this point. "No one knew it at the time but my father was infected with Ash Woe on the Expedition. A particularly insidious Blight Disease that eats away at the victims mind slowly; eventually causing them paranoia, feelings of alienation and ultimately death."

His eyes hardened, "Of course my father, who was an outspoken critic of any organization be it religious or secular that had more than 3 members was the perfect carrier for the disease. Who would have suspected it was Ash Woe and not his typical misanthropy until the disease had progressed too far for anyone to save him."

"He spent his last few years in this very shop, he and my mother lived upstairs." He chuckled ruefully, "Making trouble for the local Mage's Guild and steadfastly refusing to train any of their members in Alchemy or even sell them our wares. I swear even the location was deliberate, choosing to build our second shop practically across the street from the Guild. My sister took over the brewing when his hands began to shake but he was still in charge of every decision right up to the end."

Silence stretched between us and I was about to prompt him when he continued on his own.

"And that's the story of Roberto Ashcroft. Alchemist…Husband…Father…now dead. I wouldn't say he and I had been close, he was not given to displays of affection, but he loved me in his way. And I loved and respected him in my way as well. And now he was gone. I was quite young at this point, barely into my twentieth year, and now I bore the responsibility for my own Alchemical shop. Not to say that I was intimidated by the responsibility, far from it! I had been single handedly operating the original All Things Alchemical for two and a half years and while my father may have been a middling chemist, I was already being hailed as one of the greatest Alchemist of my time."

"But as I said, I was young. And the passions of youth can overbear even the most disciplined man." He laughed, "And I was far from disciplined in those days."

Arch-Mage Ashcroft lifted the decanter and frowned to find it empty, setting it aside he continued, "In the weeks following my father's funeral I found myself growing more and more angry. Worse I had no outlet for the anger, no culprit for the slight, nowhere to direct my energy. So like many young men faced with such circumstances I decided to go on a bender."

I must have made a face at this point because the Arch-Mage smiled.

"I had plenty of money at the time. As I said I was responsible for a noted Alchemy shop. And given our out of the way location outside of any major city I worked mostly on commission so closing shop for a few days wouldn't hurt. And so I did. I took as many septims as I could comfortably carry without presenting too tempting a target to highwaymen and headed to the Imperial City for a week of debauchery."

"And that is how I ended up in a certain cell on a certain day and bore witness to the death of Uriel Septim VII after being arrested for urinating on the gates of the Arcane University. But that story will have to wait. My decanter is empty and the only reason I agreed to this in the first place is my sister promised to ply me with expensive wine. Come back tomorrow and we'll talk more."

And without another word he stood and left. I sat there stunned for a moment before collecting my notes and departing. Had I heard that correctly? The last grate Arch-Mage of the Mage's Guild was arrested for urinating on the gates of the Arcane University? How scandalous? Join me next time and see what new revelations come to light.*

* In editing this collection I am stricken and how unprepared I was for all that would come to light in these interviews. I envisioned a few juicy stories that would both placate my editor and earn the attention of some wealthy patron that might pay me to write a more substantial biography. Little did I know that I was chronicling the life of perhaps the single most important person of his age! A man I would come to not only respect but indeed admire. A man who has been misrepresented by history for far too long. In short…a Hero.