Oblivion: Why I am a prisoner.

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I am currently playing Oblivion with a Mod that makes it possible to eliminate the Main Quest and the Oblivion gates until you want to start by getting arrested by a Guard Captain.
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Why Am I here?​

I am the Grey Fox, the most wanted criminal in Cyrodiil. I am also head of the renown Fighters Guild, a mercenary group dedicated to ousting evil and helping people. To further complicate matters I am also the Arch-Mage of the Mage Guild. And if that isn't enough I am also an ex-vampire.

So what am I doing sitting here in a jail cell of the Imperial Prison? I stole a quill not worth a copper coin. You ask was I drunk, on Skooma or just plain mad? Perhaps the last but not the first two.

I completed the Pilgrimage of the Nine by visiting a wayshrine of each of the nine gods of Tamriel and received the power Pilgrim's Grace. Quite a nice power and very useful in my line of work, whatever that is. But it isn't a good idea to bring yourself to the attention of gods. Best thing I have discovered is to lead a quiet, humble life. A bit boring maybe but certainly safer.

Yesterday, as I was sitting quietly in the garden at the Arcane University I dozed off or went into a trance, not sure which. Strange figures appeared to me, more glowing lights than persons. I felt soothed, loved, wanted but with a strange hunger, a longing for something far beyond my reach. I longed to be utterly consumed by these creatures, to be a part of them.

When I woke I had an overwhelming compulsion to head to the Imperial Prison. I fought it, I struggled hard but could not resist it. So here I am standing in a cell listening to the Emperor talk about visions, gods and death. I have received the blessing of the gods but wonder if it is not more of a curse.

I know I will follow the Emperor to his death but what will I find? Death or glory? Thus begins my journey at the whim of the gods. Now who do I pray to for protection?​

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Author's note:
Anyone who wishes to add why they are stuck in that dismal cell feel free to do so.

 

Why am I here?

A warlock of the Mages Guild with a perchance for dabbling in necromancy. I only practiced it on bandits but the guard who discovered my Black Soul Gems did not see it that way. The Mages don't know yet and I intend to keep it that way. How could I not use it? It offers so much power.

Will I follow the Empire? Yes. This way the Mages will never know. Who knows, I may profit from this.
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In this file I used nothing but black soul gems for enchantment, used summon undead spells and drain life spells. Keeping in character . Anyone else?

 

Why Am I Here?​

I'm avoiding destiny, really.

You see, I was born in a family of mages, and my mother insisted that I continue the tradition, as every dutiful daughter should. I never cared much about magic, but since I had some affinity for the Art, and knowing that arguing would avail me nothing, I embarked on a journey to the Capitol of the Empire, hoping to gain admittance to the Arcane University.

Of course, I didn't get in. It seems they don't just take people of the streets, and my mother's name didn't exactly carry the weight she thought it would. Surprising, considering her temper.

Anyway, I planned on travelling to the neighboroughing cities and earning my place in the Mages Guild, but the Arena caught my eye as I was passing it, and before long, I was fighting alongside a boar, and earning money, too. The warrior blood of my father must have kicked in. Mother never speaks of him, since he left her to pursue glory in Morrowind, but I've heard the servants whisper about it, from time to time.

Still, it's not my past that you want to hear about. Suffice to say that, once awakened, my thirst for combat was not easily quenched. As the swords clashed and crowds cheered, drunk with victory, glory and blood, I abandoned my spells in favor of a sword.

Soon, my life was settled. I lived in Anvil, in the once haunted manor, that I purchased for a rather ridiculous sum (although at the time, it was the only home I could afford). I found employment at the Fighters Guild, quickly rose through the ranks and became its leader. I even bought a horse, a magnificient animal, white as snow.

I thought that nothing could possibly go wrong...

I was wrong, for there came a day when, standing on the top of the lighthouse in the Anvil harbour, ready to great the rising sun and extinguish the flames of the brazier, I saw, gliding at the horizon, a ship white as snow, with a single purple sail. My mother's ship... coming to find me. Somehow, she must have learned that I have betrayed the legacy of the family and that I have taken my father's trade.
I sensed her across the water, I sensed her fury (even my meager magic gifts were enough for that)... and I did what every other sane person would, if they knew my mother. I ran.

I ran, as fast as I could. I ran to the Capitol and punched the first guard I came across. I should be safe here, in the Imperial Prison. She is too proud to look for me here. (I hope.)

I swear to you, I'd rather plunge myself into the Oblivion itself, than confront her now. But enough talk. I hear someone coming this way.

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It's been awhile since I played Oblivion, so I must apologize for any game world mistakes I might have made. Also, forgive my grammar.

 

I am slowly getting caught up on things in the forums, I like the two posts made here as the opening of Oblivion bothers me. Your character says to the "Emperor, "Why am I here?" Then he/she proceeds on an adventure without any problems. No one cares that a prisoner has escaped from the supposedly inescapably prison.

Who is your character? Why is he in prison? Who cares? I care. "Perhaps the gods have put you here so that we may meet." "That is not what you will be remembered for." Oblivion awaits us all. "Close shut the Gates of Oblivion." An escaped prisoner must save the realm and become the Champion of Cyrodiil. He has been forced into this role by circumstances beyond his control. Is it the gods, the stars or just plain luck, good or bad?

 

Bad luck I suppose, after all, there is no way to catch someone as good as me. I’m too fast for the guards, too smart, too vicious. They were only lucky I took so long to catch up to that damn…what was he again? A merchant? Mage? Regardless, the man was well dead in an alley when a patrol planned to stumble upon us.

Ah, the guards, they were rather rough in the arrest and interrogation, and they’re hospitality is not the best I have ever seen. Altogether, nothing the price on that man’s head couldn’t solve. Hopefully they’ll have me out before the smell sets in. Damn, and to think I was going to pay off some debts.

The dark elf across the hall is talking again; he is awfully negative and extremely longwinded. He talks too much, I want to kill him. Steps coming towards my cell, armored steps, maybe the guild sent the money already. No, something’s wrong, the steps, they’re coming too fast…are they running? Well, this might get interesting.

 

Found scrawled in some unidentifiable medium on the the walls of the former cell of Mardig the Insane:

With Blade and Spell I have ravaged the Countryside, and I get put away for public nuisance and killing some guy's sheep.
The shame of it.
When new prisoners come in, a favourite question is "so what are you in for?" Most have something at least vaguely impressive to say, like 'I killed someone', or 'I stole something'. But when people ask me I have to say "I was levitating sheep." That normally raises a few eyebrows, and the creepy old man in the corner cell gets his jollies again. Some prisoners look at me like I'm insane, BUT I'M NOT INSANE ALRIGHT! IT WASN'T EVEN MY FAULT!

There I was, fresh from swimming in the sea and butchering the more hostile of the local wildlife. I come into town one night to sell some gear, chat to some people, ya know? Then I jump this wall and hear this terrifying scream behind me. I spin around and there is this ugly sheep staring at me with it's mouth hanging open and one eye twitching like there was a team of frenzied grasshoppers inside. So I killed it. What else did you expect me to do? This demented sheep scares 5 years out of me and then has the audacity to look at me like that! But, as that creepy old man in the corner reminds me constantly, 'that's not all there is to the story'...

I'm a pretty nice guy, I don't know why everyone treat me so strangely. Children point at me, people lock a way their daughters and guards sometimes chase me out of town. Maybe it's my sense of humour. It always has been a little macabre. My Grandmother used to insult me about it before she...What happened to her again? I can't remember. But I hope the Guards find whoever did it though. Anyway, the thing I love doing the most is levitating things. Kitchen utensils, firewood, corpses, it's all the same. Now I have this dead sheep just laying there, looking even wierder now that it's dead, and I raise it up. Just a little bit before it flops back onto the ground. But it was fun, so I do it again. Soon I've got it raised all the way into the air so that it is backlighted by the moon and looking stupider than ever. It was pretty funny. I moved it from side to side so that it swayed in the air like an undead dancer. Hmm...the Zombie Shuffle, not a bad name for a dance, must remember that. I was in hysterics over that dance though, rolling around on the bloodstained ground laughing myself senseless while that stupid sheep hung limply in the air. My laughter must have woken somebody up though, because soon a candleglow lit a nearby window, and this farmer-looking guy stumbles out of his house takes one look at what was going on and starts yelling for the guard. Some people have no sense of humour, I tell you.

Ahh, it's night-time now, and the creepy old man is snoring his head off as usual. Nothing left to to do but...Wait! What was that? (and why am I writing this down?) I can hear someone coming down to the Cells! Hopefully they've come to shut the creepy old man up. We'll have to see...