My name is Auguris Cedas, I am an auditor for the Imperial Treasury, this is an account of events that unfolded following my transfer from the administrative section in Chorrol.
I crossed the border into Skyrim on the 12th of Last Seed, 4E201, the Emperor's administration had tasked me with completing a census of the population therein. Why anyone would want to visit this accursed province I will never know, it is cold, hard and barren. Before leaving the Imperial City I had requested an escort, knowing that civil unrest had been reported in Skyrim. This request was declined due to the Imperial Army drawing heavily on the resources of the Empire and the prolonged recovery following the Great War.
My journey from Cyrodiil was mostly uneventful, however my crossing into Skyrim was a complete disaster. It was peaceful as I crossed the border, however I then found myself in the middle of a skirmish between Imperial soldiers, what appeared to be rebels and an unfortunate group of bandits. I am unsure of the exact events, but I recall dismounting from my mare and leading her into the forest to avoid the fighting. The rest is unclear, but small fleeting details come to me while I sit in my cell of stone.
It was cold and damp, with only a bucket and a pile of hay within. My possessions had been taken, including my favourite tunic and cloak that I had been wearing as I crossed the border, I was still in possession of my amulet which contained paintings of my family. I was now clothed in an old torn shirt and some ill fitting breeches. The guards were unfriendly, and would not disclose the reasons for my incarceration, my protests that I am a member of the Emperor's administration were ignored and I was unsure as to what my fate would be.
The conditions were extremely poor, I could see other cells whose occupants were in a worse state than I, most appeared to be rebels. They slept most of the time, and only woke when the guards brought small bowls of water and stale bread. I counted the shifts of the guards to estimate the days which had passed, no natural light penetrated our prison only a small number of candles, which lead me to assume that we are underground. I estimated that it was three days that had passed since I initially woke in cell. I sometimes wish that I had been provided with an escort, but this is a hopeless pastime, and I should desist.
Occasionally I thought of home and my family, our home is in Weye, a cheery little place close to the Imperial City, that my wife Ladia tends while I spend my days in the city. Our two children Julitta, our daughter and Jonus, our son are twins and cause no end of problems for my wife, they are eight winters.
Approximately two days later my fellow prisoners and I were herded out of our cells into a courtyard that was filled with bright sunlight and loaded into horse drawn wagons as the frigid wind of early morning cut through our clothes. As I was hauled from my cell my hands had been rebound, no food or water had been provided and I took this as a bad sign of events that would follow.
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Reposting from the Tamriel Vault, but also possibly the Skyrim Blog, I can't quite remember when Sotek convinced me to post it! Bear with me while I tweak formatting and images, it's been a while since I used Ning