Roses are Red, Dremora are Black

Dear Kousei,

Congratulations on obtaining the Ghostblade! May more undead reach their death ("dead undead" -- that's just priceless!) at the blade of your new weapon. I'm quite sure you'll be able to wield it properly. You know you trump me anytime with one-handed weaponry. Lu'ah really did look like she was touched by madness, although I'm inclined to think she wasn't originally too out of it. Such things mortals do in the name of love. And such sadness war brings. She certainly wasn't the first person to lose a loved one in a war.

(That pinkish gem you pointed out really got my attention. I wonder if I can find one like that in my travels.)

As for the drinking fiasco... yes, yes, I know. I promise I won't get myself into awkward drinking games anytime soon. I'm not saying no to your offer of the occasional ale, though. A few drinks wouldn't hurt every now and then. But enough of that; I suspect you're wondering about the outcome of my search for Sam Guevenne and his staff. My Housecarl and I compiled quite a lot of illuminations during this particular exploit of ours, and some of them, admittedly, must be seen to be believed. I'll understand if even you find them unbelievable, but at least they would provide you with hours of entertainment.

Nothing good could come out of this.

Remind me to tell Ysolda that Witchmist Grove is not some kind of scene out of a storybook. Just some animal heads impaled on spikes, and a Hagraven waiting to meet you at the door of the lone hut in the middle.

The only thing we'll consummate here is our divorce!

Moira, Moira, are you sure you weren't as drunk as I when you accepted my "proposal"? As expected, she wasn't too keen on returning the wedding ring I gave her in my intoxicated state. After rambling a bit about some Esmerelda with "dark feathers" whom she believed had captured my attentions, it was time for a fight! She was easier to deal with than some Hagravens I have encountered, and to my grief (can you hear my sarcasm here?), I had to kill her to retrieve the ring.

Because sneaking at the primary entrance is too mainstream.

Returning the wedding ring to Ysolda led me to Morvunskar next. I suppose you have at least heard of it, because it is quite near Ulfric Stormcloak's stronghold. I honestly don't see why Ysolda didn't find it odd for a wedding venue. Morvunskar is crawling with mages, and none of the friendly sort, either. At least they were quite easy pickings for me in stealth mode, with bow and arrows at hand.

"Why forge weapons when one can simply rely on magicka?" THIS is why, my friend.

It's no secret that I am more mage than warrior these days, but that does not mean I am inclined to neglect my armor. Being sent to the otherworld with one shot of the arrow isn't exactly too fun, as the mages in Morvunskar must have realized. 

Morvunskar mages look like they have a chronic drinking problem.

And another thing: you couldn't navigate Morvunskar without tripping over empty wine bottles every now and then. I wonder if all that alcohol had addled their minds a bit, because I swear there was an instance when the mages ignored me in battle and just focused on my Housecarl instead. Sure, I'm wearing robes similar to theirs, but the fact that I'm shooting them down one by one was as plain as day. It's no small wonder Sam Guevenne marked this location for me; there must have been enough wine in Morvunskar to turn the White River into the shade of ale.

A portal right in the heart of Morvunskar.

Once I have judged the coast as clear, we turned our attentions to this peculiar sphere of energy. What is there to do but jump in?

How does Sam Guevenne find these places?

...and the inside wasn't too bad. A shame you weren't with me; it would have been nice to have you as company in that misty grove instead of my usual follower. I couldn't explore too long, however. I still had to find the source of all my troubles: Sam Guevenne.

He was nice enough to let Lydia join in and take illuminations.

And found him, I did. Along with some people I didn't know, whom he simply called "commoners." But we haven't even reached the strangest part yet!

Say what? I like your armor. I'll have one like that someday.

Presenting Sam Guevenne's true form, the Daedric Prince Sanguine. I was so thankful I didn't punch his alter ego at first glance, or I probably wouldn't be around to write this letter to you. Sanguine went on to explain that he simply wanted me to explore Skyrim and spread his brand of merriment. Well, he can't say I haven't done both! I was put in a forced field trip from Markarth to Windhelm chasing after something that may not even exist. At least my map has lots of landmarks now.

Could have been worse, I guess?

And as for the staff he promised me? After being teleported back to the Bannered Mare, sifting through my inventory yielded the peculiar staff aptly named the Sanguine Rose. I have yet to test it in battle, but at least it wasn't the walking stick I thought it would be. Kudos to you, Sanguine. Maybe this artifact will save me one day.

Best Regards,

Kiya