little. I feel I have nowhere to turn but this diary.
Oddly enough, the first person I spoke with, a wood elf named Fargoth, turned out to be the owner of the ring (whether he was lying or not I don't particularly care, the band was just brass with a plain seal stamped into its face, the enchantment a simple healing spell).
He directed me to a trading post owned by an Altmer named Arrille. I introduced myself, and he told me to be careful around the cave by the silt strider dock - claimed it to be a smuggler's den, then directed me upstairs to a bartender who wrote
me some actually useful directions to Balmora.
I met the Nord whose dagger I had stolen from the Census office, given the note attached to it. He openly asked me to break into Fargoth's house and coerce protection money from him. I excused myself.
I met an Altmer woman who, after seeing what must be my bewildered expression as I asked her about the town, told me the guard have been paid off by the smugglers in the cave opposite the silt strider dock - among other things. I am suspect as to how many of them were grounded in reality.