Ada's Journal

Excerpts from Adaliz's journal:

Entry 1:

By the divines this place is so cold and wet and awful why in the world did I ever come here I want to go back home. But I can't come home, I'd never hear the end of it. I can already imagine the mockery. "ooooh a little too cold for you huh? Couldn't stand on your own? Maybe you'd be better off married to some old spinster for her dowry money." Arrogant little pricks. Anyway, I thought I'd write in here since I've actually had something go my way for once. Ferrsis sent me a letter saying he'd pulled some strings and set things up so I'm now the owner of a small brewery near Falkreath. I mean... it isn't much, but its something I suppose. I didn't think he was the type to do this sort of thing. Perhaps I've misjudged him.

Entry 2:

So I've spent another awful carriage ride going to another dreary city which is EVEN COLDER than the previous one. Although, it does remind me of High Rock a lot, I'll give it that. Solid architecture, unlike the thatched huts and wooden shacks that I've seen so many of. But that aside I think I'll be staying away from Castle Dour for a bit. I tried to find the official in charge of commerce and ended up stumbling into the war room. This lady in legion armor gave me such a chilling look. I believe I may have lost my composure somewhat and stuttered an apology before quietly closing the door. I think the guards saw. They better not be telling stories about me. Anyway I found the official and tried to get everything properly sorted. Oh but this man. This man was the most smug, entitled son of a whore I've ever had the displeasure of dealing with. If he had his way, us merchants would be crushed under the bootheel of the East Empire Trading Company. Endless regulations, taxes, sycophancy. Ugh. Anyway, he said that the land I apparently own now is only home to a small derelict house. This is nonsense and he is wrong, of course. But he insists on sending an inspector to check everything out. He'll apparently be waiting for me inside the hous- brewery. But I'll stop writing now. I have another long awful carriage ride on a hard wooden bench seat to endure. Skyrim is truly a harsh land.

Entry 3:

I want to go home really really badly. By the divines this place is absolutely mad. I arrive in some insignificant town in the middle of the woods, step off the wagon, and not an hour later a MASSIVE FLYING REPTILE swoops down and begins laying waste to the outlying homesteads! By Akatosh I mean I knew of the rumors of dragons coming back but I didn't consider they were actually true. The town guard managed to kill it eventually, although about a dozen people I think were slaughtered. Ugh the smell was revolting, I can still remember it. But anyway, apparently some man named Dovakeen or some such nonsense has been going around teaching people how to hunt dragons. Strange, but I'm sure its nothing too important. Must be some fancy hunter or what have you. Anyway, I may have made some mistakes afterward. After being exposed to such horrific devastation I somewhat lost my composure and headed to the inn, where I ordered a fair amount of alcoholic beverages. I may have ah... overestimated my tolerance for such things. I ended up losing my balance multiple times. People saw. My head hurts a lot now and I'm going to go to sleep. Although I feel like I'm forgetting something. Oh well.

Entry 4:

Oh I swear Ferrsis our father is going to hear about this one way or another you little *the remainder of the sentence is too illegible to read*.

I suppose I am going to have to start from the beginning. After waking up from that incident I shall no longer speak of, I gathered my things and headed toward my brewery. It was then that I realized what I had forgotten. I seem to have left the inspector in the unenviable position of waiting in a dreary abandoned building overnight while I slept in the Inn. He did seem a bit cross but I'm sure after thinking about all the struggles that I went through he'll realize that he got off lightly and should apologize for behaving so rudely and being wrong. Oh yes, he is certainly a cruel man though, I'll tell you. After I trekked all the way up the hill overlooking Falkreath and stepped into the building, he had the gall to demand I clean the entire house before he formally inspects it. Oh, and it was looted and filled with spiderwebs too. Anyway, after hours of unnecessary hard labor he finally walks in, takes a quick look at me, flips open a trapdoor that was very well concealed, and motions me to follow, completely ignoring the rest of the house.
I'm going to make him lose his job I swear this.

Anyway, this is where things get really interesting. *the g of interesting ends in a small hole, as though the writer pressed down on the paper with far more force than necessary.* Apparently, there is in fact a small cellar containing several broken stills. So I was right, naturally. I knew my instincts wouldn't let me down. But my victory was short-lived. The inspector tells me that this is clearly the remains of an illegal brewing operation, and that I am forbidden from using these stills without proper authorization. He then says that they are no longer giving permits to independent operators. And then he just leaves.

I am going to bed now. If I write any more I feel I will lose my composure.

Entry 5:

The carriage ride was a one way trip.
I'm stranded in this island of country bumpkins living in a massive forest with nothing else around.
You know what, I no longer care. I no longer care about the stupid imperial commerce office and its inspectors and I no longer care about Ferrsis "gifting" me the remnants of an illegal moonshine operation and anything else. I am going to make something out of this and I'll prove to everyone that I can make it on my own and I don't need anyone's help to be a rich merchant and then I'll be able to prove to those naysayers in Daggerfall that I am just as good as they are- *the diatribe continues for some time. There also appear to be odd ink blotches on this page, as if small drops of liquid were dropped onto the ink while it was still wet.*

Entry 6:

Oh, I haven't written in this for some time. I may as well bring everything up to speed. I managed to find an abandoned building near Whiterun and I negotiated with that Proventus fellow and got the deed for it. I'm certain he could tell I was in a bad spot and overpriced the worth of that run-down place. I'm damn near out of money. Anyway, I hired some people to discreetly move the stills to my new base and set them up. My plain is to use them to ferment cider to use in what I hope will be a successful restaurant. Since Whiterun is in a nice grey area between the Empire and the Stormcloaks, I can set up a new business without fear of repercussions from the Stormcloaks or Empire. I do hope that I can make this work. I don't have many options left.

Entry 7:

The most dreadful thing happened today. The countryside nearby became a battleground between the Empire and a Stormcloak raiding party. There must have been hundreds on both sides. By the Nine it was such a bloodbath. I can still see corpses when I look out the window. This whole province is so hellish, why did I ever come here? I could be drinking fine wines in a Hammerfell palace right now but noooo I chose to come to Skyrim because I thought there would be more business opportunities. By Akatosh I hope I don't run into Ferrsis in this state. I'd never hear the end of it. Speaking of, I wonder how he's doing. He must be fighting here somewhere. He better not get himself killed. Not that I care. It'd just be a blow to my family is all.

Entry 8:

I finally managed to get myself a housekeeper. Some Argonian woman I found during one of my visits to that lovely bar up in Solitude. I'm not usually one for noticing those beneath my station but this one seemed rather lost. Didn't see them at work but they weren't begging either. That wasn't typical for lower class types. So I walked over and asked what they were doing and wouldn't you know it, they were looking for a job. As it happened I'm in dire need of someone to keep everything tidy so I offered them a position at my restaurant. She seemed rather excited at the prospect considering it was such a menial job. Oh well, that's the peasantry for you. Far be it from me to try and peer into their heads. Anyway, we arrived back home a few hours ago and I must say, she's certainly eager to make herself useful. It seems my natural eye for talent hasn't abandoned me. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to investigate a certain strange crashing noise that occurred just moments ago. I'm sure its nothing important.

Entry 9:
I haven't written in here for awhile. Not much has been going on. But something happened recently that I feel is worth recording. Several days ago I was heading to the The Bannered Mare to purchase a meal and take a break from running my business. I was waiting for the serving wench to finish up with another customer, when I saw the most curious sight. A Dunmer woman with odd facial paint that I couldn't identify walked in and ordered no less than two bottles of alto wine, and proceeded to methodically pour glass after glass and imbibe the contents. I must admit I was somewhat transfixed, as I had not expected such a thin body to be able to hold that much drink without expiring. But that's not the most interesting thing. After ordering and receiving my own meal, I watched the behavior of the Dunmer as I ate. May as well enjoy a show as I relaxed, I thought. You see, while she did not die from the sheer quantity of wine imbibed, she certainly was affected by it as she continued to drink, swaying about like a sailor on a rocking ship and generally making a fool of herself. Now, here is the interesting part. At some point while she was drinking, she must have swallowed wrong because her eyes widened and she began coughing in a spastic manner. But during this event, there was an odd shimmering about the top of her head, and I could swear I saw the faint outline of some kind of protrusions just barely visible within. This must have been significant because when her coughing fit ceased she looked about the tavern with an expression of mild panic. But no one else appeared to have seen it. Until her gaze fell on me. I quickly looked away and headed back home, and I am now sequestered in my study. You see, I am very concerned by what I saw. Those protrusions I mentioned earlier bear a startling resemblance to the horns of a Dremora. I saw such a beast not but once, when I was witnessing one of the things being captured by the mages of my city. Apparently some fool conjured it into existence and it escaped, killing him and the entire household before being brought to heel. I had only seen it at all because father insisted on taking me to the scene to warn against the dangers of letting unskilled apprentices play with magic unsupervised. I remember it clearly. If I am correct in my assumption that there is some foul plot afoot, it would be best to wait out the night in my room, and inform the Jarl of it in the morning.

Entry 10:

*The writing of this entry starts off rather shaky, but improves as it goes on.*
Oh by the divines what on Nirn have I gotten myself into? I must not have slept but a few hours when I was awoken by a lilting voice I could not place. When I opened my eyes, I saw the figure I had seen at the tavern standing above my bed! Only it no longer bothered to conceal its true form, and I could clearly see its horns outlined by the moonlight. I will admit I let out a noise of distress and grabbed for my knife in a panic, but before I could even do so the figure standing menacingly before me let out a yelp and stumbled backwards, falling over my bedroom table and knocking its head on my cabinet, causing half my book collection to fall down upon it. (They survived the fall at least, in case you were wondering.) I was rather taken aback, as you may imagine. So I advanced on the beast and demanded to know what it was doing in my house. Er, granted I may have done so from behind my bed and I may not have sounded as brave as I remember, but I am sure anyone else would have done the same thing in that situation. It was then that the creature looked up and demanded what I was doing going around waving a knife at a visitor to my home.

It was then that anger overcame my fear and I demanded to know what kind of daedric entity had the gall to waltz into MY HOUSE at three in the morning and then claim they were just visiting. A shouting match briefly ensued, where I was able to gather that I had left my door unlocked (by accident mind you. Locking doors is servant work, I had merely forgotten to do so myself. Perfectly normal), and my "visitor" did not seem to understand that this was not an invitation for anyone to just walk in as they pleased. It was at this moment that I realized that Daedra or not, whatever I was dealing with was unaccustomed to our world at best and a simpleton at worst. I thought that perhaps I could take advantage of this situation. I was about to blackmail it with my knowledge of it's existence (I would have said I told someone else of it who would go straight to the Jarl if I died) when, to my surprise, the thing did the job for me. It abruptly changed the subject after the shouting match subsided and immediately asked that I not tell anyone what it was, and in return it would assist me should I have any troubles. I would think this is some kind of deception, but I feel I can outsmart a creature such as this with ease. So I accepted its deal. It was at this point that I heard shouting that the door was wide open and someone may have snuck in. Moments later, my Argonian housemaid bolted through the door, tripped, and knocked herself out cold.

Entry 11:

It has been a strange few days since I accepted that creature's bargain. It has stopped by often ever since, in its Dunmer disguise anyway, and I will admit that we have have exchanged conversation more than once. I have learnt some interesting things about it too. For one, it says that it follows the Lord of Debauchery, the prince known as Sanguine, as opposed to the typical patron of such things, who's name I shall not transcribe. I suppose this explains why it didn't just kill me like most of its kind would probably have. It also explains why it is such a NUISANCE. The thing seems literally unable to grasp the subtleties of proper behavior, cannot hold a conversation for long unless you are willing to constantly remind them to pay attention, and will absolutely give in to every little dalliance that may present itself when running an errand that I need to be done URGENTLY. And of course it has an excuse for every single one too. Perhaps this is some kind of curse. But I put up with it because when it actually focuses, it is more or less competent at whatever I set it to do. Its sort of like gambling, I think. Another thing I learned is that the thing is actually male. I don't really know what to think about that. Also, it is called Serinal. May as well get used to the name, as I feel I will be needing to use it a lot in order to keep their attention. There is one thing that concerns me, though. Apparently the reason he has been wandering about our reality for so long is because he insulted a much more fearsome member of his kind in his own plane, and he will be in for quite an unpleasant experience should he ever be banished back there any time soon. While this is useful to know, I hope this whole unholy arrangement does not come back to bite me at some later date. Now, I must be off, as Serinal was supposed to return to me six hours ago *the last three words appear to be deeply etched into the parchment, as though unnecessary force was used to transcribe them* and I believe I am going to have to look for him.

Entry 12:

I appear to have found the most incompetent adventurer in all of Skyrim. Allow me to explain. I was in Solitude looking for someone to escort me to Whiterun (My carriage had been delayed for a fortnight and I simply could not wait that long) when I happened upon an armed and lightly armored figure in the Winking Skeever. They were rather pale and feeble looking, but dressed like a rugged traveler, so I assumed they must be somewhat competent. As I walked closer, I determined that he was a Nordic man (well, hardly a man compared to most of his kin). Regardless, a local would probably be best, and so I offered him the job, which he accepted surprisingly quickly. I expected to have to haggle, so it was a pleasant surprise that he so easily acquiesced. He said his name was Yvenn Jornesson, and that he had plenty of experience avoiding the dangers of the province. He also said we could leave whenever I wished, and so we set out the following hour.

It was at this point that I began to realize that my guide was somewhat lacking in regards to athletics. By midday he was panting and exhausted even at the reasonable pace we were going. I believe that such frailty was unbecoming of a self-proclaimed adventurer and I told him so. Repeatedly. My words must have had an invigorating effect on him, since he became more lively as the sun started to set. A few hours later we had made camp, where I am currently writing this entry with Yvenn sleeping soundly on the bedroll adjacent to mine. I must admit, there is something that is bothering me. My (truthful) words to him about his physical shortcomings obviously served to spur him onward near the end of this leg of the journey, but his countenance was rather dolorous throughout. It reminded me of the expressions I saw on stray dogs and the like outside my carriage window in Daggerfall. I obviously wasn't being too hard on him, as my assessment was correct, but perhaps I should make some conversation with him tomorrow, to show that I am not entirely critical. Not that I care about what he thinks, of course. Its just important to boost the morale of the lower class every so often. But it is a matter for the next day, and I must rest now.

Entry 13:

We broke camp a few hours past dawn, after Yvenn cooked a rather surprisingly well cleaned haunch of venison. Once that was finished, we resumed our journey. To be honest, I am beginning to warm up to my associate. Bodily shortcomings aside, he is remarkably obedient and competent when given a command. Its refreshing to have a servant who understands how to behave like one, as opposed to the other two working under me. In addition, he has managed to avoid multiple places in the road that he said contained packs of thugs lying in wait. One time when we were sneaking through a more concealed path, I saw a few of them lying in a ditch beside the road, waiting for someone to pass by. I have no idea how he detects them. Must me some kind of obscure tracking technique. But that aside, I managed to have a conversation with him as we neared the city. As I suspected, he was not all that much of an adventurer after all. He spent most of his time in the library as a child, but has ended up homeless for reasons he refused to expand upon. Apparently his knowledge of how to set up camps and cook animals and the like is derived entirely from treatises on wilderness survival, and his skill at them came from nothing more than simply repeating the instructions in the books word for word. While this does cast some doubt upon his prowess as a woodsman (I feel he'd just about collapse if placed in a situation he hadn't read about prior), it does speak well of his analytical ability and capacity for memorization. It seems like a shame to have such talent go to waste.

Entry 14:

I have finally returned home, and I have also acquired a new bookkeeper. As we reached my house, I suggested that he could stay and earn a living as my personal assistant. He looked rather taken aback, but accepted my offer. The Nord seems rather pleased to finally have a job in the city. Well, near it, but the point stands. He's proven himself to be capable when it comes to balancing the budget and running errands, but absolutely worthless when it comes to anything requiring charisma or any form of social skills. He just becomes a stuttering mess and has to be dragged away, or he'll only embarrass himself (and me, since I am his master now and his behavior will reflect on my company). However, I have come to a solution that I am very pleased with. I've taken to sending both Yvenn and Serinal out on errands together. Yvenn manages to keep Serinal focused on the task at hand, and Serinal handles the day to day errands of my estate. This leaves me free to handle the more important aspects of my business (and plenty of free time to boot). Between the three of us, I feel that this is the beginning of a very lucrative relationship.

Entry 15:

Oh my, it certainly has been awhile since I last wrote something. I may as well do my best to bring everything up to speed. So after a few absolutely miserable months running that rickety ciderhouse and doing some odd jobs on the side, I finally gained enough money to move to Solitude, a city with actual culture, class, and plumbing that works when its supposed to. Serinal seemed delighted when he heard about the move, although Yvenn was rather downcast, although then again he always looks like he's about to cry so its probably nothing. In just a few hours I will depart from this place and purchase a base of operations, where I will begin to slowly acquire the deeds to local businesses. None of the significant ones, mind you. My plan is to form a loose network of owned properties across the edges of the main holds. In this way I can make a great deal of money through my diversified, widely-spaced assets while remaining unnoticeable enough that I don't attract the attention of the bigger fish lurking about in this province, such as the East Empire Company. Now I must be off, towards greater things.

Entry 16:

So I have apparently made a minor miscalculation regarding the level of wealth one would need to possess in order to purchase a home fit for a noble within the city walls. Even my prodigious stockpile of funds is not enough to own a mansion fit for one of my stature while having enough left over to invest in my first property. Which is immensely frustrating. I will not forget this humiliation. However, "every cloud has a silver lining" as my dear sister used to say. Which is about par for the course for someone like her, she has the same capacity for originality as a particularly slow-witted bovine. But to the point, I have managed to find a compromise regarding my housing situation. I have managed to purchase a lovely ship of quite significant size, and I intend to turn it into a mobile manor. The living conditions are somewhat plebeian for now, but as I accrue more funds I intend to overhaul the entire interior and turn it into something fit for someone of my pedigree. Also, note to self: order all the servants to refer to my manor as a manor and not a boat. Have their wages deducted if they refuse.

Entry 17:

Despite a somewhat rocky start, life in Solitude is far better than it was on the outskirts of Whiterun. Its amazing how different a place can be while remaining in the same province. The place shines with proper Breton and Imperial architecture instead of rotting wooden shacks and stone huts the locals can't seem to get enough of. It reminds me a lot of home. Well, it actually is rather close to High Rock, so I suppose that would make sense. Such a geographic placement is exceedingly useful for my purposes, as well. It allows me to purchase servants and guards from my home country, something I have missed for some time now. It feels positively delightful to be able to rely on my own countrymen once more instead of foreigners. No offense toward Yvenn and Serinal of course. Together they are capable enough, but it just wasn't the same. But I am getting off topic. The main thing I am taking advantage of is the Blue Palace's ludicrous policy of being an "open forum" as that red-bearded steward constantly reminds us all. Ridiculous. I can't imagine how anything gets done while the peasantry are allow to loiter about the halls. That said, its rather convenient for myself. I thought it would be much more difficult and tedious to integrate myself within the high-class community, but this system gives me direct access to the local nobility, and I feel it will only be a matter of weeks or a month at most before I am invited to one of their more private gatherings, which is a sure sign that they accept me as one of their own. Once that happens, I can start dealmaking and secure yet more coin for my projects. I can hardly wait!

Entry 18:

I've been away recently, but I may as well recount some events that have occurred recently. So far I have acquired the deed to a small tavern by the docks of Solitude, so this gives my a steady income which I am greatly pleased with. In addition, I've devoted a significant effort towards refurnishing my manor so it has amenities befitting one such as myself, allowing me to entertain guests of similar stature within my own home, which I am sure will come in handy in the coming days. Lastly, I've just come back from a journey to Windhelm to try and secure properties there as well. Unfortunately, there wasn't anyone who was willing to sell just quite yet, but I'm certain they'll come around in time. The Grey Quarter especially looks promising. No one would look twice if a few places ended up being bought out over there. I think I'll send Serinal to do it. His disguise as a Dunmer will allow him to win over the trust of the natives better than I ever could, and if rumor is to be believed has already, to put it delicately, ingratiated himself into the local population. I had to pay his bail, actually. Because he was STUPID enough to throw a few lurid comments at a passing noble while blasted off his mind with concoctions I don't even want to know of. I had to go to great lengths to smooth things over, let me tell you. Luckily for me I had an advantage. She wasn't one of the important houses, and all it took was innocently questioning just what a high-class woman such as herself was doing in the Grey Quarter at that time of night. After that, we managed to come to an agreement where she would drop her charges and I would spread no rumors of her dalliances. Quite exciting if I do say so myself. This just showcases my natural abilities on the negotiating table, and further proves that I am indeed capable of handling things on my own. I'd love to see the faces of those brats back in Daggerfall and tell them just how successful I've become. I'll show them someday. I promise that. Oh, and Yvenn was oddly happy today. Well there was still a dolorous air about him like usual, but it was lessened somewhat. I haven't the faintest idea why, but he was much more pleasant to be around. No doubt he's become inspired by my own brilliance and has realized just how much of an honor it is to serve me. But I must end this entry now. I have much more work to do today, and a great amount of profits to reap.