Close shut the jaws of insanity... or don't. Let's Play TESIV: Oblivion!

And welcome back to Lord Death Firedoom is TRIPPING BALLS

Alright, time to get comfortable in this nice little bed here. Good thing the Brotherhood provided a place to sleep for me in the inevitable event that I get stronger. Too bad that didn't happen this time, I feel samey, but I guess sleep will at least allow me to think of something to do.

Just gonna...drift... off... zzzzzz

Okay, I could go through all the mods I'm using for this particular section, but it would take FOREVER because ninety percent of them are prettyvision mods, and even then, there are other mods that are just so numerous, so instead, I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions.

[yawn] Oh my.◊ There appears to be a shirtless Dark Elf staring at me. You know, sir, it is ungentlemanly to watch another person sleeping.

Where the hell am I?

My name, sir? Well, I am but a humble Argonian. My name is not important to those outside of my kinship, but I shall give it to you anyway as a sign of friendship between our two races.◊

Okay, that can't be me talking, I HATE Dark Elves.

You say a guard is coming?◊ My word, what kind of rabblerousery have I committed to this time? I'm sure it's no serious offense. After all, I, Lord Manfred Death Firedoom, Dashing Gentleman Pugilist and man of questionable naming conventions, am keen on upholding the law. I am also keen on the higher sport of boxing. The guard wants me to accompany him above deck to converse with the local authorities in regards to my release. For whatever offense I am not certain, but a release form would be most excellent.

Upholding the law... DAD? Oh wow, I'm having a dream about dad. That is uncomfortable, I tell you what.

Oh my, I must have been below deck for quite some time, it is very bright out here, and rather humid.◊ Admittedly, a man such as myself from the quiet waters of Black Marsh is no stranger to the intense humidity, but there it isn't quite as foggy as it is here. Speaking of here, where exactly am I? This place appears to be far too rural to be Cyrodiil, and is not quite arctic enough to be the lands of Skyrim. Perhaps this land is one of the Summerset Isles? I know that delightful Dark Elf told me where we were, and I feel a great sorrow for having not listened. It's a rude practice, but listen to me going on and on about where I might be, I should head inside. And might I say that the architecture of this new and foreign land is quite striking.◊

Yeah, this is definitely dad. He always did have a strange speaking pattern. He doesn't seem to realize he's in Morrowind. Also classic dad, he could speak fancily, but he was really pretty stupid. Not getting an education will do that to you.

What's that my good man? My profession? Why, I am Lord Manfred Death Firedoom, Dashing Gentleman Pugilist and man of questionable naming conventions, and I shall record it laconically so that your job is made easier.◊ My trade skills are also listed there, for your convenience and for the convenience of anyone who may peruse these documents. My task is to take them to your captain posthaste, but first, I shall take a look to ensure these papers are for what I think they are.◊ Good show! These papers will ensure my release into... oh excitement! I am in the province of Morrowind! I always have wanted to visit this place, for I have heard many tales about the gruff and challenging warriors who live here. I will finally get to better myself through challenging them to honorable fisticuffs!

Yeah, that's where me and dad got along, we both love us some violence. He mentioned Morrowind, I remember him sending me letters about it while...

Oh my, I'll have to send letters to my son while I'm here. It's too bad he's being held in the Imperial Prison. I always knew that his public urination would lead him to jail.

I GOT HELD IN IMPERIAL PRISON FOR SIX YEARS FOR PUBLIC URINATION? ARE YOU SERIOUS? SOMETIMES PEOPLE JUST HAVE TO GO, ALRIGHT? I CAN UNDERSTAND NOT BEING HAPPY ABOUT IT, BUT SIX YEARS? COME THE FUCK ON.

I'm sure he will enjoy the correspondence. He never was the sociable sort such as myself, but at the very least, I should ensure he does not go mad from boredom. Now, I mustn't leave the captain waiting for these papers. I must make sure that my pugilistic skill has not decayed whilst aboard that vessel. I'm sure that I am still able to singlehandedly uproot a hist tree, but I should at least make sure that I am still limber. Oh my, something about this barrel implores me to investigate it more closely.◊ There's a ring inside! Oh what a lucky find! I shall keep this with me until such an occasion that it must be parted from my possession. Perhaps I'll be able to find its owner nearby? How exciting! I love helping others!

Can you believe he actually wrote me a letter about this? I remember the exact wording, too. It was literally "Dearest son, I found a ring in a barrel today. Goodbye, your father." God damn, dad is stupid. Why can't I wake up from this?

Captain Gravius, sir, I have my papers for you.◊ You say that Caius Cosades would like to meet with me in the town of Balmora? I shall make my way there with the utmost speed! I say, it so very refreshing to be back on expedition. I was growing quite tired of the mundanity of Black Marsh, and truth be told, my wife has grown cold and unresponsive to my affections as of late, and all I really have is my son. I do so hope he is released from prison soon so that I can tell him the stories of this place firsthand.

It never happened. Dad never came back from Morrowind. Good fucking riddance.

Well, I shall just be along my way down this road, the signs say that Balmora is this way. It shouldn't take too long to... what is that racket I hear? Oh dear, it would appear this man has fallen from a great height to his demise.◊ I am sorry, my friend, that it had to end this way, I shall take on your possessions and see if I can find a next-of-kin. I shall also give you a proper burial so that your body will be protected against the ravages of the outside air, for it is only fitting. His journal says he was testing out some form of sorcery that allowed him to fly.◊ Tsk tsk, so did Icarus fly upwards toward the sun, and his wings did burst into flames. So it goes.

WHO THE FUCK IS ICARUS? Seriously, what is he even talking about? Is that supposed to be some sort of myth or something? I've never heard of it, and I majored in Tamrielic lore when I was in college.

I did as I promised and have taken up that man's garb.◊ Unfortunately, I find myself unable to wear shoes as my son does. I do so wish I could wear them, they seem so comfortable.

Dad's bone structure was the worst thing I'd ever seen in my life. I majored in Tamrielic lore, but I minored in anatomy, y'know, for obvious reasons. His legs and feet are seriously fucked up. Sort of like HIS STUPID FACE. ICE BURN.

Well, it would appear that I've lost track of my bearings. Silly me, I always lose myself in the scenery in foreign lands. I'll just continue along this way for a while, I suppose.◊

AAGH! Finally, I'm awake. Good god that was the worst nightmare I think I've ever had. But y'know what? I think we've all learned some things today, namely: