#ocato

Once upon a time, there was a small kitten…

En français : @frdouchevahkiin

A Chancellor: Chancellor Ocato, should we not do something about the emperor’s… Is it not a distraction?

Chancellor Ocato: If you would like to get rid of the Champion of Cyrodill, you’re welcome to try.

A Chancellor: Emperor Martin, is it appropriate to have the Champion of Cyrodill in a sensitive council meeting?

Martin Septim: He’s had a hard week :(.

A Chancellor: That may be but-

Martin, suddenly in a low whisper: Try and have him removed and I will kill you. :).

Il était une fois un petit chat…

In English : @thedouchevahkiin

Avarenya: No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have used my one phone call to play a prank on Chancellor Ocato.

Three months ago I lost the love of my life. Martin sacrificed himself in order to save the world, and I will still hear people saying that he had no claim to the throne. Ocato was no help or consolation. Every time I spoke to him, he would either fret about the state of the Empire now that there were no Septims, or would talk to me about how brave and special Martin was as if he’d known him longer than I, or as if I wasn’t aware of how amazing he was.

On my last trip to the Imperial City, Ocato had given me the Imperial Dragon armor, which I had been refusing for months, but now wear daily as a tribute to my love’s cause and a reminder of his sacrifice. I hadn’t had a need for armor, especially since I had already done every mission, quest, and favor I had in my journal, but while I was there I had heard rumors of a Strange Door appearing just off the coast of Bravil.

I had made my way there, believing this to be a way to distract me from my grief. When I had arrived, I was mesmerized by the large mushrooms and unknown flora. They looked like nothing I had ever seen before.

The door itself was much more a portal, appearing to be a purple Oblivion Gate, but instead of jagged rocks and sharp stone, it was inside a large mouth that belonged to an enraged face, which was surrounded by two more, each depicting a different emotion.

The man who came out of the portal attacked my, giving my no choice but to kill him. After his head was removed from his shoulders, the portal began speaking. I recognized the voice. It’s the same one I’ve heard every night in my dreams since that little adventure in Border Watch, a week after Martins death.

Sheogorath welcomed me into the Shivering Isles, saying that he required assistance and it was lovely this time of year. I am writing this outside the portal, having decided to wait until morning to enter, despite the guards constant attempts to convince me otherwise.

I see no reason not to, as there is nothing holding me here anymore. The Knights of the Nine no longer need me, as all of the artifacts have been recovered. There are no more Arena battles for me to fight in after I became the Arenas Grand Champion, Dragonheart. The Dark Brotherhood has been wiped from Cyrodiil by my own hand. The Thieves Guild has no more Grey Fox now that the cowl is no longer cursed. The Fighters and Mages Guilds run fine without me. And all of the Counts and Elder Council members treat me either like a glass vase that could break at any moment, or like a stain they can’t remove.

This plane isn’t my home anymore, not without him, so I will go through the portal and see what Sheogorath wishes from me.