Why do supervillains always put their lairs in active volcanoes, full of lava? Seems like bad Feng Shui.
Yikes! Nord with an axe and hot lava below! Stendarr's Mercy!
Did the Nord actually do that in the game? It would be hilarious if he did run into the lava.
Still no puzzle box! This is turning out to be a frustrating adventure for Joan.
Full Version: The Saga of Joan of Arkay
Errata: I referred to Joan as Joan of Arkay toward the end there. That's a mistake. 
Caused by habit. I meant to write Joan of Cyrodiil or Joan of Cheydinhal so go by that.
Caused by habit. I meant to write Joan of Cyrodiil or Joan of Cheydinhal so go by that.
QUOTE(Renee @ Nov 22 2021, 12:45 PM) 
Errata: I referred to Joan as Joan of Arkay toward the end there. That's a mistake.
Caused by habit. I meant to write Joan of Cyrodiil or Joan of Cheydinhal so go by that.Joan of Arkay is a wrong name? But this thread is called "The Saga of Joan of Arkay". Now you got me confused!
She can be both a devotee of Arkay and be from Cheydinhal or Cyrodiil, can't she? I don't see a contradiction.
QUOTE(Lena Wolf @ Nov 22 2021, 08:18 AM)
QUOTE(Renee @ Nov 22 2021, 12:45 PM)
Errata: I referred to Joan as Joan of Arkay toward the end there. That's a mistake.
Caused by habit. I meant to write Joan of Cyrodiil or Joan of Cheydinhal so go by that.Joan of Arkay is a wrong name? But this thread is called "The Saga of Joan of Arkay". Now you got me confused!
She can be both a devotee of Arkay and be from Cheydinhal or Cyrodiil, can't she? I don't see a contradiction.
At this time she is not Joan of Arkay yet. She's just Joan. JoA is Renee's paladin character from Oblivion. In this series we go back in time to before she earned that lofty role, and instead was just a scrappy young do-gooder who had yet to find her place in the world.
Writing is hard. 
It really is harder than it seems, sometimes. Doesn't matter how many times I edit, there's always stuff which makes me go Argh!! And now that I'm putting this into FF I'm trying to really get these tales mistake-free. But they will never be, right? There's always stuff I consider to be flaws.
But yeah, she's not supposed to be singularly devoted to Arkay yet. So that's some mistakes I made along the way.
It really is harder than it seems, sometimes. Doesn't matter how many times I edit, there's always stuff which makes me go Argh!! And now that I'm putting this into FF I'm trying to really get these tales mistake-free. But they will never be, right? There's always stuff I consider to be flaws. But yeah, she's not supposed to be singularly devoted to Arkay yet. So that's some mistakes I made along the way.
QUOTE(Acadian @ Nov 21 2021, 01:32 PM)
What a frightening adventure, dancing with lava! It occurred to me not until Joan was midair on her first traverse of the lava, how's she gonna get back across?
Frightening, what an apt word.
Yes, even though this is "just a videogame" it was terrifying. I think I was probably screaming when she fell into the pit, and then her health went SWOOP almost to a sliver, just like that. QUOTE(SubRosa @ Nov 21 2021, 06:44 PM)
Did the Nord actually do that in the game? It would be hilarious if he did run into the lava.
Still no puzzle box! This is turning out to be a frustrating adventure for Joan.
- Oh yes, he actually did that in the game. He came rushing after Joan. Suffice to say, the NPC AI in any Beth game can be a bit short-sighted. Hey, I'll use that to my advantage whenever I can.
- Here comes the puzzle box!
8 Heartfire (Day 24)
The Dwemer Puzzle Box
It takes six days (six!) before Joan finds the Dwemer Puzzle Box. And when she finally does find it, she realizes she never needed to bother jumping over broken bridges, risking her life rushing through burning hot fluid, and confronting most of the dozen or so bandits she’d dealt with. To find the box, all she had to do was pay more attention to how the very first, massive Dwemer chamber was laid out.
In fact, the very first bandit she’d faced could have potentially shown her the way. He had run toward her down a nondescript, winding ramp of stone, rushing headstrong from an upper floor which Joan could not figure how to reach. After much head-storming, she finally sees the ramp. It's been literally right in front of her all this time! She walks quickly up its narrow path. Walks into the room which had been out of her grasp for days. Susses her new location. Takes a few steps into yet another corridor, and finds herself in a final cell carved of stone. In here, she deals with one last bandit, who she fights without her guard's assistance. Once the bandit is a-lay on the floor, fallen dead from Joan's shortsword, she finally finds the box.
And where does she find it? Sitting on a shelf made of typical dwarven metal along with a few miscellaneous scraps of material. Out in the open. Not even hidden in a locked chest!
Joan Marie removes both her gauntlets. Picks the puzzle box up. Tilts it within her hands this way and that, while making quiet noises which (for her) are akin to the foulmouthed curses of a drunken sailor. All those days. She can see the box is ornate, obviously crafted with patience and care. But why on Nirn had Hasphat asked her to locate the blasted thing? What importance could it possibly have for him? Obviously, there’s a reason he had her seek the box, what could it possibly be?
Well, now that she’s got it, Joan wastes no time walking back to Balmora with her guard, so she can do nothing else but deliver the thing to Hasphat Antabolis.
"So," Hasphat starts, "have you done that little favor I asked?"
The moment is a grand one. Done! … Done she is with the creaks and groans of that large Dwemer ruin, seeking to retrieve an item which seems to have no significance, other than possibly an artistic one. "You wished for me to procure this?" Joan reveals the box to Hasphat from under a scarf, then gives it to him. “Gladly, it is now in your possession.” Perhaps he’ll do the same exact thing as whomever placed the box in Arkngthand so long ago. Perhaps he’ll put it upon some shelf. Maybe show it off to all his townie friends for awhile. Maybe forget about it entirely after a week or two.
"Perfect! Just what I was looking for,” he gushes. “Just let me take this Dwemer puzzle box, and then I'll tell you what Caius will want to know about the Sixth House." He lowers his voice. "And about the Nerevarine," he says in a near whisper. As he does so, he hands her a small stack of pages. “Take these to Caius, if you please.”
Joan gives him a brief, tense smile before heading off to bed. Tomorrow, she'll be ready to speak again to Caius Cosades, supposed top marshal for the Blades here in town. After she does so, Hasphat promises he will give her a key the next time she speaks to him. This key is supposed to open some locked-up portions of Arkngthand, says he.
Wondrous. By the curses of daedra, she’ll be headed back to those bloody ruins again at some point. Forsooth! ... Forsooth!
Early Morning
Joan Marie finds herself at some sort of celebration, which she soon determines is somebody's wedding. Here, she meets a tall figure with a golden mask. This figure leads Joan amongst a series of dark and greyish manlike shadowy shapes. She hears voices, but no one's lips move. She strains to breathe, yet her chest refuses to contract and expand.
The tall figure speaks with each silhouette he passes by, laughing and joking, but none of them make any sort of reply.
An ominous feeling pervades her person as the figure moves about. What exactly is the cause of this feeling? She does not know. During her waking life, she's always in control of herself. Always a display of confidence, even when she feels like a trapped mouse. But now, she struggles and panics! She wishes to cry out, but finds she cannot...
... And then she wakes up. "By the Gods," she sputters, nearly leaping out of bed. "By the Gods, by the Gods." She finds that she is breathing hard, and must focus her will to calm herself. "Just a nightmare, just a horrid, horrible nightmare." She looks around her pleasantly-lit Fighters Guild bedroom. Takes a moment to shudder and shiver, then realizes she’s not alone.
"I've got a few minutes if you need something," says Wayn, who is standing inside of Joan's room. Wayn is one of the Fighters Guild's trainers.
Joan composes herself, before donning her shoes, and heading off to face the day. Her nightmare? It fades. Seems silly by daylight. But she makes an effort not to forget it by writing its events within her travel journal. She does so in the Lucky Lockup, where she also breaks her night-fast with a meal of kwama eggs and marshmarrow leaves. "Still no sweetrolls on the menu," she muses quietly as she eats. Finally, she makes her way to consult with Caius. By now it is late morning.
"Speak freely friend," he greets, welcoming Joan into his comfy home. Still no shirt to cover his chest, but by now Joan finds she's not so bothered by this.
"The task for Hasphat has been accomplished, to his grateful satisfaction," she informs.
"Are you here to discuss your orders, Joan of Cyrodiil?"
She begins to correct him that she is more specifically from Cheydinhal, and therefore not to be confused with anyone else named Joan, who happens to also be from Cyrodiil. But she lets the moment pass. "What sort of orders have you now in mind?"
"Do you have the notes from Hasphat Antabolis?" he asks.
"I do." She hands him the stack of pages given to her by their contact in the Fighters Guild.
Caius takes a few minutes to glance over the notes. "I've glanced at Hasphat's notes,” he eventually lets her know, as if she has trouble comprehending. “They cover the Sixth House admirably, but not the Nerevarine cult."
"I see. And what is it you wish from me?" For there has to be something next on the man’s mind.
And there is. "Hop over to the Balmora Mages Guild," he says. "It's right next to the Fighters Guild. Get Sharn gra-Muzgob to tell you what she knows about the Nerevarine. Uh. Sharn’s an orc, with green skin,” he says with a wink. “She'll have some silly errand for you. Do what she asks. And report back to me when she's given you the information."
Joan wonders why Caius himself cannot do any of this. Why can't he walk across the river, and speak to the orc himself? Perhaps ‘tis something to do with being recognized within town, she concludes. Maybe the man is in hiding. Or cannot be seen in the company of one of the guilds for whichever reasons.
In the meantime, Joan's funds are getting low, especially after buying all those potions and scrolls, then not getting paid much by Caius. Devout holy knights who tithe regularly, and give their unneeded possessions to the poor occasionally still need wages. After all, without an influx of coin in her purse, none of this questing about is as easily-possible. Her armor pieces and sword need upkeep, her belly needs to stay sated so her mind can stay focused. And so on.
So she takes the time to pick up another Fighters Guild contract. This one will send her to Caldera, a town which lies several miles to the north of Balmora. Caldera has its own ebony mines, and Telvanni agents have illegally taken over one of them. Since raw ebony can sell for up to two hundred drakes per pound, Joan's task is simple: rid the mine of its riff raff. Return Caldera’s mining machine to full monetary efficiency. Joan of Cyrodiil guesses these Telvanni agents are of a different breed, compared to the two egg farmers who’d gone rogue within their own workplace a few weeks earlier.
It’s just that word ... Agents, which sends an odd feeling down Joan’s spine. She thinks she won’t be bothering with pacified words, in an attempt to shift their meandering, unholy lives over to the Nine when she meets these folks.
One thing is certain, she realizes as she heads toward supper. At least it shan't take an entire six days to eradicate these unholy menaces from their choice of a hideout. Of this, she is sure and confident.
-------------------------------
Joan’s text message nightmare
That Blasted, Bloody Puzzle Box! -- (Can ya see it?)
Joan meets with Hasphat
The Dwemer Puzzle Box
It takes six days (six!) before Joan finds the Dwemer Puzzle Box. And when she finally does find it, she realizes she never needed to bother jumping over broken bridges, risking her life rushing through burning hot fluid, and confronting most of the dozen or so bandits she’d dealt with. To find the box, all she had to do was pay more attention to how the very first, massive Dwemer chamber was laid out.
In fact, the very first bandit she’d faced could have potentially shown her the way. He had run toward her down a nondescript, winding ramp of stone, rushing headstrong from an upper floor which Joan could not figure how to reach. After much head-storming, she finally sees the ramp. It's been literally right in front of her all this time! She walks quickly up its narrow path. Walks into the room which had been out of her grasp for days. Susses her new location. Takes a few steps into yet another corridor, and finds herself in a final cell carved of stone. In here, she deals with one last bandit, who she fights without her guard's assistance. Once the bandit is a-lay on the floor, fallen dead from Joan's shortsword, she finally finds the box.
And where does she find it? Sitting on a shelf made of typical dwarven metal along with a few miscellaneous scraps of material. Out in the open. Not even hidden in a locked chest!
Joan Marie removes both her gauntlets. Picks the puzzle box up. Tilts it within her hands this way and that, while making quiet noises which (for her) are akin to the foulmouthed curses of a drunken sailor. All those days. She can see the box is ornate, obviously crafted with patience and care. But why on Nirn had Hasphat asked her to locate the blasted thing? What importance could it possibly have for him? Obviously, there’s a reason he had her seek the box, what could it possibly be?
Well, now that she’s got it, Joan wastes no time walking back to Balmora with her guard, so she can do nothing else but deliver the thing to Hasphat Antabolis.
"So," Hasphat starts, "have you done that little favor I asked?"
The moment is a grand one. Done! … Done she is with the creaks and groans of that large Dwemer ruin, seeking to retrieve an item which seems to have no significance, other than possibly an artistic one. "You wished for me to procure this?" Joan reveals the box to Hasphat from under a scarf, then gives it to him. “Gladly, it is now in your possession.” Perhaps he’ll do the same exact thing as whomever placed the box in Arkngthand so long ago. Perhaps he’ll put it upon some shelf. Maybe show it off to all his townie friends for awhile. Maybe forget about it entirely after a week or two.
"Perfect! Just what I was looking for,” he gushes. “Just let me take this Dwemer puzzle box, and then I'll tell you what Caius will want to know about the Sixth House." He lowers his voice. "And about the Nerevarine," he says in a near whisper. As he does so, he hands her a small stack of pages. “Take these to Caius, if you please.”
Joan gives him a brief, tense smile before heading off to bed. Tomorrow, she'll be ready to speak again to Caius Cosades, supposed top marshal for the Blades here in town. After she does so, Hasphat promises he will give her a key the next time she speaks to him. This key is supposed to open some locked-up portions of Arkngthand, says he.
Wondrous. By the curses of daedra, she’ll be headed back to those bloody ruins again at some point. Forsooth! ... Forsooth!
----------------------
Early Morning
Joan Marie finds herself at some sort of celebration, which she soon determines is somebody's wedding. Here, she meets a tall figure with a golden mask. This figure leads Joan amongst a series of dark and greyish manlike shadowy shapes. She hears voices, but no one's lips move. She strains to breathe, yet her chest refuses to contract and expand.
The tall figure speaks with each silhouette he passes by, laughing and joking, but none of them make any sort of reply.
An ominous feeling pervades her person as the figure moves about. What exactly is the cause of this feeling? She does not know. During her waking life, she's always in control of herself. Always a display of confidence, even when she feels like a trapped mouse. But now, she struggles and panics! She wishes to cry out, but finds she cannot...
... And then she wakes up. "By the Gods," she sputters, nearly leaping out of bed. "By the Gods, by the Gods." She finds that she is breathing hard, and must focus her will to calm herself. "Just a nightmare, just a horrid, horrible nightmare." She looks around her pleasantly-lit Fighters Guild bedroom. Takes a moment to shudder and shiver, then realizes she’s not alone.
"I've got a few minutes if you need something," says Wayn, who is standing inside of Joan's room. Wayn is one of the Fighters Guild's trainers.
Joan composes herself, before donning her shoes, and heading off to face the day. Her nightmare? It fades. Seems silly by daylight. But she makes an effort not to forget it by writing its events within her travel journal. She does so in the Lucky Lockup, where she also breaks her night-fast with a meal of kwama eggs and marshmarrow leaves. "Still no sweetrolls on the menu," she muses quietly as she eats. Finally, she makes her way to consult with Caius. By now it is late morning.
"Speak freely friend," he greets, welcoming Joan into his comfy home. Still no shirt to cover his chest, but by now Joan finds she's not so bothered by this.
"The task for Hasphat has been accomplished, to his grateful satisfaction," she informs.
"Are you here to discuss your orders, Joan of Cyrodiil?"
She begins to correct him that she is more specifically from Cheydinhal, and therefore not to be confused with anyone else named Joan, who happens to also be from Cyrodiil. But she lets the moment pass. "What sort of orders have you now in mind?"
"Do you have the notes from Hasphat Antabolis?" he asks.
"I do." She hands him the stack of pages given to her by their contact in the Fighters Guild.
Caius takes a few minutes to glance over the notes. "I've glanced at Hasphat's notes,” he eventually lets her know, as if she has trouble comprehending. “They cover the Sixth House admirably, but not the Nerevarine cult."
"I see. And what is it you wish from me?" For there has to be something next on the man’s mind.
And there is. "Hop over to the Balmora Mages Guild," he says. "It's right next to the Fighters Guild. Get Sharn gra-Muzgob to tell you what she knows about the Nerevarine. Uh. Sharn’s an orc, with green skin,” he says with a wink. “She'll have some silly errand for you. Do what she asks. And report back to me when she's given you the information."
Joan wonders why Caius himself cannot do any of this. Why can't he walk across the river, and speak to the orc himself? Perhaps ‘tis something to do with being recognized within town, she concludes. Maybe the man is in hiding. Or cannot be seen in the company of one of the guilds for whichever reasons.
In the meantime, Joan's funds are getting low, especially after buying all those potions and scrolls, then not getting paid much by Caius. Devout holy knights who tithe regularly, and give their unneeded possessions to the poor occasionally still need wages. After all, without an influx of coin in her purse, none of this questing about is as easily-possible. Her armor pieces and sword need upkeep, her belly needs to stay sated so her mind can stay focused. And so on.
So she takes the time to pick up another Fighters Guild contract. This one will send her to Caldera, a town which lies several miles to the north of Balmora. Caldera has its own ebony mines, and Telvanni agents have illegally taken over one of them. Since raw ebony can sell for up to two hundred drakes per pound, Joan's task is simple: rid the mine of its riff raff. Return Caldera’s mining machine to full monetary efficiency. Joan of Cyrodiil guesses these Telvanni agents are of a different breed, compared to the two egg farmers who’d gone rogue within their own workplace a few weeks earlier.
It’s just that word ... Agents, which sends an odd feeling down Joan’s spine. She thinks she won’t be bothering with pacified words, in an attempt to shift their meandering, unholy lives over to the Nine when she meets these folks.
One thing is certain, she realizes as she heads toward supper. At least it shan't take an entire six days to eradicate these unholy menaces from their choice of a hideout. Of this, she is sure and confident.
-------------------------------
Joan’s text message nightmare
That Blasted, Bloody Puzzle Box! -- (Can ya see it?)
Joan meets with Hasphat
I am not surprised it took Joan that long to find the box. Most of the times I have done that quest I have walked right past it numerous times. It is like a chameleon box, it blends in perfectly with its surroundings. And I also usually missed that ramp and the upper floor. The last time I did it was a few weeks ago, and January had to use a levitate spell to get up there. Only then did I see the ramp.
I love the idea of the puzzle box being put on a shelf and forgotten. Then in a thousand years some other adventurer will have to brave the ruins of Balmora to retrieve it as part of the quest they are on!
Oh no, I hope nobody stole the sweetrolls!
Joan of Cyrodiil does work for her. At least until she earns another, more divine appellation.
Joan has inspired me to do the Imperial Cult questline in Morroblibivion. So January might be following some of Joan's footsteps.
I love the idea of the puzzle box being put on a shelf and forgotten. Then in a thousand years some other adventurer will have to brave the ruins of Balmora to retrieve it as part of the quest they are on!
Oh no, I hope nobody stole the sweetrolls!
Joan of Cyrodiil does work for her. At least until she earns another, more divine appellation.
Joan has inspired me to do the Imperial Cult questline in Morroblibivion. So January might be following some of Joan's footsteps.
So the bloody puzzle box is finally found! And given to Asphalt. Whew. The ESO puzzle box quest is totally different except for its dwemer connection and location in a dwemer dungeon.
"Get Sharn gra-Muzgob to tell you what she knows about the Nerevarine. Uh. Sharn’s an orc, with green skin,"
- - Caius, I think the 'gra' in her name kinda gave all that away, leaving simply your gift for stating the obvious. Lol.
Another Fighters Guild contract. This time to eradicate some Telvanni rats from a mine. Wonder if they know magic?
"Get Sharn gra-Muzgob to tell you what she knows about the Nerevarine. Uh. Sharn’s an orc, with green skin,"
- - Caius, I think the 'gra' in her name kinda gave all that away, leaving simply your gift for stating the obvious. Lol.
Another Fighters Guild contract. This time to eradicate some Telvanni rats from a mine. Wonder if they know magic?
I agree, Rosa. The way the devs hid not just the box, but colored the ramp as well so that it's not so obvious, is what I must really take a lesson from in the future. I assume other quests in this game will use such convoluted measures to hide stuff, which the later games do not suffer ... erm.... were created from.
-- Nice, so Jan does use Levitation.
-- I think I may have made a little mistake when I said the box has been placed in Arkantarkin and forgotten. Wasn't the box stolen, and therefore put into the ruin more recently? On the other hand, that was Joan's set of thoughts, not mine.
-- Sweetrolls are something Joanie misses from Cyrodiil.
Ah, so there's another puzzle box quest in Elder Scrolls Online!!!
I really need to play that game again, Acadian. Maybe I'll focus more on quests if I do, since Lopov is in Skyrim now, I won't get tempted to just go adventuring with him & Shonta.
--In fact, I did not write up the Telvanni agents in the mine, because it's sort of all the same as before. I'm going to pick and choose the adventuring I write up, as we'll see in a few...
--I will continue Joan's story until Xmas.
But then I'm going to take a break from Morrowind and switch to Laprima in Skyrim. So these next two or three chapters will be it for 2021.
Merry Xmas, y'all, and Festivus for the rest of us.
-- Nice, so Jan does use Levitation.
-- I think I may have made a little mistake when I said the box has been placed in Arkantarkin and forgotten. Wasn't the box stolen, and therefore put into the ruin more recently? On the other hand, that was Joan's set of thoughts, not mine.
-- Sweetrolls are something Joanie misses from Cyrodiil.
Ah, so there's another puzzle box quest in Elder Scrolls Online!!!
I really need to play that game again, Acadian. Maybe I'll focus more on quests if I do, since Lopov is in Skyrim now, I won't get tempted to just go adventuring with him & Shonta. --In fact, I did not write up the Telvanni agents in the mine, because it's sort of all the same as before. I'm going to pick and choose the adventuring I write up, as we'll see in a few...
--I will continue Joan's story until Xmas.
But then I'm going to take a break from Morrowind and switch to Laprima in Skyrim. So these next two or three chapters will be it for 2021. Merry Xmas, y'all, and Festivus for the rest of us.
12 Heartfire (Day 28), early morning
Andrano's Tomb
It took Joan and her guard a day to travel from Balmora to Caldera, another day to travel to Caldera's mines (eliminating the Telvanni threat there) and a final day to return to Balmora for much-needed payment. The Telvanni agents who resided within the cave were tough. If Joan hadn't plundered the mine with her guard, there is no way she could have survived.
She meets lots of people as she travels, and engages in plenty of useful conversation. As she makes her social rounds, Joan gets into the habit of always saying something optimistic, cheery, and encouraging to those whom she meets.* Most of the townsfolk she speaks to appreciate her words, only occasionally do they not.
Now, back in Balmora, she is ready to seek whatever notions Sharn gra-Muzgob, the Mages Guild's orc wizard, has to share.
"No. No interruptions!" the orc says upon first meet. "How many times! ... Oh."
"Are you Sharn gra-Muzgob?" Joan suppresses a smile as the scatter-brained orc gives her full attention.
"You are one of Caius's associates?" Sharn asks, not yet answering Joan's question.
"I am," she says quietly, in an effort to keep their conversation secret from other guild members. "And I am here to discuss some potential arrangements from Caius."
"That is a different matter," Sharn says, apparently still scattered in thought. Unlike Joan, Sharn does not speak softly. "Caius and I have a very satisfactory arrangement, and I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement, if you will complete a little errand for me."
Ah, here it is. "Why sure, an errand, and what sort of errand have we in mind?"
"The errand is very simple. I need the skull of Llevule Andrano."
Joan grimaces at this. A skull this time, not an ornate, golden puzzle box. Now why on Nirn could an orc working within the Mages Guild need her to retrieve the cranium from somebody who is known to be a from local, noble family?
"You'll find the skull in Andrano Ancestral Tomb. But take care not to upset the natives. The Dunmer have some peculiar primitive prejudices against necromancy, and take grave objection to unauthorized tomb visits."
Oh my, thinks Joan Marie, the emerging Blade. -- Dunmer natives? ... Necromancers? .. Tomb visits? -- Though she is not totally proficient against undead at this point, she has had some training. "I do possess a doublet of complimentary magics to turn spectrals, zombies, and fiends," she tells the orc. "Though I haven't the skillset of a master priest or cleric. As such may be, you are in luck." She pauses a moment, consulting with herself. "For I do wish to sojourn, then suss out this set of ruins."
... She decides this firmly and quickly, surprising herself a little. But she's always had a curiosity concerning undead tombs, once risking a visit into Cheydinhal's Undercroft while unattended, and at the age of fourteen. "Where are we to go?" Locating then removing a skull from some submerged, perilous location is not something she's entirely keen on, especially after she learns that Llevule Andrano was some sort of evil enchanter. But otherwise, she is curious about what sort of animated un-life might reside within the ruins of Morrowind? Are they as weak and near-harmless as the ghosts she encountered within Cheydinhal's Chapel of Arkay? ... Slow-moving ghosts which were merely beings to be wary of?
She leanrs that Andrano's tomb is south of Pelagiad, which is just a day's travel on foot.
Sharn gives Joan an enchanted blade, and also some advice. "Some spirits are immune to normal weapons. Here, take this old shortsword. And maybe these old scrolls will come in handy."
The shortsword packs a variety of magic which Joan cannot identify. The orc also hands her four scrolls: two with the power to heal its caster, and two which deal fire damage. Joan is tempted to sell the latter scrolls; money is always something in short supply so far. But then she notices they have an area effect, which means more than one enemy can be affected if she casts and aims properly. Against undead, fire can be a good thing.
She changes her mind about selling the scrolls.
----------------------------------
15 Heartfire (Day 31)
A day of travel and a day of getting situated in Pelagiad. Finally, Joan feels she is ready for Andrano's Ancestral Tomb. She walks to the place with her trusty Imperial guard, but initially has him wait outside. No need for him to go rushing about, mucking things up.
Once within the tomb she focuses Blessed Touch in her mind; magic from the Conjuration school. This is one of the spells she had learned after a couple years of training. Its purpose is to cause the un-living to turn away from the spell-caster in fear. Even though she has practised this spell many times in the past, and had even used it on a few ghosts underneath Cheydinhal's chapel, she experiences that sodden tinge of worry. That the spell will not work. Whichever ghost or skeleton or bonewalker (as she learns Morrowind's zombies are properly referred as) she touches will not flee.
"I remain resolute with thy graces."
Her footfalls echo softly down Andrano's first set of stairs, while arcane noises and seeming voices of the unseen surround and swell. At the staircase's bottom lies a man. A Dunmer. A former adventurer, perhaps. He died at some point in the recent past, his shield still clutched within his hand.
"I draw upon the graces of Arkay," she says as she readies Blessed Word, which is a targeted version of Blessed Touch. The tomb is lit here and there by magical torches, but lighting is still rather dim. Joan makes a mental note--she will need to buy a Light spell as soon as she can afford one. She remembers that an Altmer back in Caldera's--
Suddenly, an ancestral ghost comes into view! Joan is surprised. The ghost's fascia is so pale, she barely notices it until its cursed visage is right in front of her.
"Gather the presence of Arkay, esprit!"
She touches the ghost, feeling its chilling essence, even through her gauntlets. As the spell passes from her fingertips, she is surprised to see it works! ... It works! ... The ancestral menace before her begins to move away. Joan Marie stands in awe, then realizes she's just possibly made a mistake by letting her guard down. But there are no other enemies nearby. So from this moment, she has a few moments to plan ahead. The acolyte unsheaths her sword, the same sword given to her by the orc back in Balmora. Then, she begins counting.
... twenty ... twenty-one... twenty-two... ....
She counts to thirty in her mind, knowing that the spell's effect has halted by now. She then waits until the damned returns to try fighting her properly. This time, she does not cast another spell; to do so would mean a waste of limited magical resources. Instead, she uses the sword. It only takes two swings before the ghost's spirit perishes. Whatever powers the sword possesses, it is definitely powerful. However, Joan knows the spirit will not stay gone forever. After several days it would reanimate. Has something to do with the way magic works within Ancestral Tombs.
She drinks a cheap potion to regain some of her lost health. Oh yes, she has come prepared with potions, as well.
Before her are several urns, some of which no doubt could contain small amouns of wealth. Joan Marie of Cheydinhal does not disturb these, even out of any sort of curiosity. The deceased should retain whatever belongings they possessed upon death, after all. To remove these would be to place a possible curse upon oneself.
She walks slowly and comes to an intersection, turning left. The corridor she's in curves around. The mystical, imperceptible voices she continues to hear seem disturbed by her presence. They increase their volume as she strides forward. This is truly a place of the occult.
She hears footsteps, and readies her spell again. The corridor makes a sharp right turn, and continues down a second set of stairs. But immediately to her right is a door. The door is not locked, so she opens it cautiously. Inside is a skeleton. An ordinary bag of bones, creaking this way and that. Joan touches it with her spell, and watches as it runs off deeper into the tomb. Again, she counts to thirty. When the skeleton returns, this time Joan readies an iron mace. She smacks and pummels the thing until its tendons fall apart.
Maces are perhaps better when dealing with zombies and skeletons, she'd decided not long ago. Though she's not as skilled with blunt weapons, and it will take some time (months, maybe years) for her to become as effective with them, it's become her goal to start trying new things. She cleans her second new weapon off carefully, before delving deeper.
It takes several more hours, and the final assistance of her guard, before she finds Andrano's skull. Joan breathes sighs of relief, knowing one more task has been completed. After returning to Pelagiad and spending the night there, she meets a strange Dunmer in the street who babbles on about things Joan cannot yet comprehend.
---------------------------------
Balmora Mages Guild
Fighting Telvanni Agents
Bag of Bones!
"By the presence of Arkay! I turn ye toward the light!"
Pursuing a Bonewalker -- (Looks like she turned the thing, while her guard runs after to take it down)
Llevule Andrano's skull
Lopov'd
--------------------------------------
Notes -- * Joan has Speechcraft as a Major, and I've been selecting Admire a lot as she speaks with shopkeepers, guildmates, random townsfolk, and so on. This skill can be brutal to those who aren't trained as she is, those who spam Speechcraft who haven't got this as a Major skill will quickly find a lot of NPCs hate their character! But with Joan, she mostly does well with words.
Andrano's Tomb
It took Joan and her guard a day to travel from Balmora to Caldera, another day to travel to Caldera's mines (eliminating the Telvanni threat there) and a final day to return to Balmora for much-needed payment. The Telvanni agents who resided within the cave were tough. If Joan hadn't plundered the mine with her guard, there is no way she could have survived.
She meets lots of people as she travels, and engages in plenty of useful conversation. As she makes her social rounds, Joan gets into the habit of always saying something optimistic, cheery, and encouraging to those whom she meets.* Most of the townsfolk she speaks to appreciate her words, only occasionally do they not.
Now, back in Balmora, she is ready to seek whatever notions Sharn gra-Muzgob, the Mages Guild's orc wizard, has to share.
"No. No interruptions!" the orc says upon first meet. "How many times! ... Oh."
"Are you Sharn gra-Muzgob?" Joan suppresses a smile as the scatter-brained orc gives her full attention.
"You are one of Caius's associates?" Sharn asks, not yet answering Joan's question.
"I am," she says quietly, in an effort to keep their conversation secret from other guild members. "And I am here to discuss some potential arrangements from Caius."
"That is a different matter," Sharn says, apparently still scattered in thought. Unlike Joan, Sharn does not speak softly. "Caius and I have a very satisfactory arrangement, and I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement, if you will complete a little errand for me."
Ah, here it is. "Why sure, an errand, and what sort of errand have we in mind?"
"The errand is very simple. I need the skull of Llevule Andrano."
Joan grimaces at this. A skull this time, not an ornate, golden puzzle box. Now why on Nirn could an orc working within the Mages Guild need her to retrieve the cranium from somebody who is known to be a from local, noble family?
"You'll find the skull in Andrano Ancestral Tomb. But take care not to upset the natives. The Dunmer have some peculiar primitive prejudices against necromancy, and take grave objection to unauthorized tomb visits."
Oh my, thinks Joan Marie, the emerging Blade. -- Dunmer natives? ... Necromancers? .. Tomb visits? -- Though she is not totally proficient against undead at this point, she has had some training. "I do possess a doublet of complimentary magics to turn spectrals, zombies, and fiends," she tells the orc. "Though I haven't the skillset of a master priest or cleric. As such may be, you are in luck." She pauses a moment, consulting with herself. "For I do wish to sojourn, then suss out this set of ruins."
... She decides this firmly and quickly, surprising herself a little. But she's always had a curiosity concerning undead tombs, once risking a visit into Cheydinhal's Undercroft while unattended, and at the age of fourteen. "Where are we to go?" Locating then removing a skull from some submerged, perilous location is not something she's entirely keen on, especially after she learns that Llevule Andrano was some sort of evil enchanter. But otherwise, she is curious about what sort of animated un-life might reside within the ruins of Morrowind? Are they as weak and near-harmless as the ghosts she encountered within Cheydinhal's Chapel of Arkay? ... Slow-moving ghosts which were merely beings to be wary of?
She leanrs that Andrano's tomb is south of Pelagiad, which is just a day's travel on foot.
Sharn gives Joan an enchanted blade, and also some advice. "Some spirits are immune to normal weapons. Here, take this old shortsword. And maybe these old scrolls will come in handy."
The shortsword packs a variety of magic which Joan cannot identify. The orc also hands her four scrolls: two with the power to heal its caster, and two which deal fire damage. Joan is tempted to sell the latter scrolls; money is always something in short supply so far. But then she notices they have an area effect, which means more than one enemy can be affected if she casts and aims properly. Against undead, fire can be a good thing.
She changes her mind about selling the scrolls.
----------------------------------
15 Heartfire (Day 31)
A day of travel and a day of getting situated in Pelagiad. Finally, Joan feels she is ready for Andrano's Ancestral Tomb. She walks to the place with her trusty Imperial guard, but initially has him wait outside. No need for him to go rushing about, mucking things up.
Once within the tomb she focuses Blessed Touch in her mind; magic from the Conjuration school. This is one of the spells she had learned after a couple years of training. Its purpose is to cause the un-living to turn away from the spell-caster in fear. Even though she has practised this spell many times in the past, and had even used it on a few ghosts underneath Cheydinhal's chapel, she experiences that sodden tinge of worry. That the spell will not work. Whichever ghost or skeleton or bonewalker (as she learns Morrowind's zombies are properly referred as) she touches will not flee.
"I remain resolute with thy graces."
Her footfalls echo softly down Andrano's first set of stairs, while arcane noises and seeming voices of the unseen surround and swell. At the staircase's bottom lies a man. A Dunmer. A former adventurer, perhaps. He died at some point in the recent past, his shield still clutched within his hand.
"I draw upon the graces of Arkay," she says as she readies Blessed Word, which is a targeted version of Blessed Touch. The tomb is lit here and there by magical torches, but lighting is still rather dim. Joan makes a mental note--she will need to buy a Light spell as soon as she can afford one. She remembers that an Altmer back in Caldera's--
Suddenly, an ancestral ghost comes into view! Joan is surprised. The ghost's fascia is so pale, she barely notices it until its cursed visage is right in front of her.
"Gather the presence of Arkay, esprit!"
She touches the ghost, feeling its chilling essence, even through her gauntlets. As the spell passes from her fingertips, she is surprised to see it works! ... It works! ... The ancestral menace before her begins to move away. Joan Marie stands in awe, then realizes she's just possibly made a mistake by letting her guard down. But there are no other enemies nearby. So from this moment, she has a few moments to plan ahead. The acolyte unsheaths her sword, the same sword given to her by the orc back in Balmora. Then, she begins counting.
... twenty ... twenty-one... twenty-two... ....
She counts to thirty in her mind, knowing that the spell's effect has halted by now. She then waits until the damned returns to try fighting her properly. This time, she does not cast another spell; to do so would mean a waste of limited magical resources. Instead, she uses the sword. It only takes two swings before the ghost's spirit perishes. Whatever powers the sword possesses, it is definitely powerful. However, Joan knows the spirit will not stay gone forever. After several days it would reanimate. Has something to do with the way magic works within Ancestral Tombs.
She drinks a cheap potion to regain some of her lost health. Oh yes, she has come prepared with potions, as well.
Before her are several urns, some of which no doubt could contain small amouns of wealth. Joan Marie of Cheydinhal does not disturb these, even out of any sort of curiosity. The deceased should retain whatever belongings they possessed upon death, after all. To remove these would be to place a possible curse upon oneself.
She walks slowly and comes to an intersection, turning left. The corridor she's in curves around. The mystical, imperceptible voices she continues to hear seem disturbed by her presence. They increase their volume as she strides forward. This is truly a place of the occult.
She hears footsteps, and readies her spell again. The corridor makes a sharp right turn, and continues down a second set of stairs. But immediately to her right is a door. The door is not locked, so she opens it cautiously. Inside is a skeleton. An ordinary bag of bones, creaking this way and that. Joan touches it with her spell, and watches as it runs off deeper into the tomb. Again, she counts to thirty. When the skeleton returns, this time Joan readies an iron mace. She smacks and pummels the thing until its tendons fall apart.
Maces are perhaps better when dealing with zombies and skeletons, she'd decided not long ago. Though she's not as skilled with blunt weapons, and it will take some time (months, maybe years) for her to become as effective with them, it's become her goal to start trying new things. She cleans her second new weapon off carefully, before delving deeper.
It takes several more hours, and the final assistance of her guard, before she finds Andrano's skull. Joan breathes sighs of relief, knowing one more task has been completed. After returning to Pelagiad and spending the night there, she meets a strange Dunmer in the street who babbles on about things Joan cannot yet comprehend.
---------------------------------
Balmora Mages Guild
Fighting Telvanni Agents
Bag of Bones!
"By the presence of Arkay! I turn ye toward the light!"
Pursuing a Bonewalker -- (Looks like she turned the thing, while her guard runs after to take it down)
Llevule Andrano's skull
Lopov'd
--------------------------------------
Notes -- * Joan has Speechcraft as a Major, and I've been selecting Admire a lot as she speaks with shopkeepers, guildmates, random townsfolk, and so on. This skill can be brutal to those who aren't trained as she is, those who spam Speechcraft who haven't got this as a Major skill will quickly find a lot of NPCs hate their character! But with Joan, she mostly does well with words.
With January's current run in Morroblivion, she created a Fortify Personality spell that gives her a +70 bonus for 10 seconds. It does wonders in dialogue. Even if she has to cast it every time she talks to someone.
Skulls and puzzle boxes. I don't think they ever do explain why the various NPCs want these macguffins.
take grave objection to unauthorized tomb visits
I really, really hope the pun there was intentional!
I figured out something in my recent forays into Morrowind/Morroblivion. When you start the game in Seyda Neen, the first thing you should do is head north out of town. You will "meet" the guy with the scrolls of Icarian Flight. He always has an Iron Sparksword. Since it is magic, you can use it to fight ghosts in the nearby tombs.
It is good to see that Joan remains resolute in they graces. January is doing the Imperial Cult quests - my first time ever - thanks you Joan's inspiration. She might do the Imperial Legion quests too. That would make for a good Paladin type, I think.
I never liked the versions of Turn Undead where they run away. You just have to chase them down to kill them. I prefer when Turning means doing damage/destroying all the undead in the area. That is laying down the smack of Arkay!
It sounds like Joan found one of the Sleepers. They are creepy, know that there are people like them just lurking around, possibly anywhere.
Skulls and puzzle boxes. I don't think they ever do explain why the various NPCs want these macguffins.
take grave objection to unauthorized tomb visits
I really, really hope the pun there was intentional!
I figured out something in my recent forays into Morrowind/Morroblivion. When you start the game in Seyda Neen, the first thing you should do is head north out of town. You will "meet" the guy with the scrolls of Icarian Flight. He always has an Iron Sparksword. Since it is magic, you can use it to fight ghosts in the nearby tombs.
It is good to see that Joan remains resolute in they graces. January is doing the Imperial Cult quests - my first time ever - thanks you Joan's inspiration. She might do the Imperial Legion quests too. That would make for a good Paladin type, I think.
I never liked the versions of Turn Undead where they run away. You just have to chase them down to kill them. I prefer when Turning means doing damage/destroying all the undead in the area. That is laying down the smack of Arkay!
It sounds like Joan found one of the Sleepers. They are creepy, know that there are people like them just lurking around, possibly anywhere.
Off to Andrano’s tomb!
’Joan is tempted to sell the latter scrolls; money is always something in short supply so far.’
- - I think the below may be part of the above problem:
’Before her are several urns, some of which no doubt could contain small amouns of wealth. Joan Marie of Cheydinhal does not disturb these, even out of any sort of curiosity. The deceased should retain whatever belongings they possessed upon death, after all.’
- - Just teasing.
Joan’s sentiment is quite noble.
You did a good job of describing Joan’s progress through the tomb.
And with skull in hand, Joan is mission complete for this ‘favor’.
’Joan is tempted to sell the latter scrolls; money is always something in short supply so far.’
- - I think the below may be part of the above problem:
’Before her are several urns, some of which no doubt could contain small amouns of wealth. Joan Marie of Cheydinhal does not disturb these, even out of any sort of curiosity. The deceased should retain whatever belongings they possessed upon death, after all.’
- - Just teasing.
Joan’s sentiment is quite noble. You did a good job of describing Joan’s progress through the tomb.
And with skull in hand, Joan is mission complete for this ‘favor’.
I have yet to catch up on everything, but it was really great to see that hostile Nord fall to his doom. His frost resistance didn't really help him in that situation. 
Just like others, it took me a long time to find the puzzle box, my first character who did this quest, was sure that there must be some other area in Arkngthand that we keep missing, so we were desperately looking for doors that'd take us to another cell.
Oh, I totally forgot about those dreams as you begin having as you progress through the MQ. It was neat to include them in the story.
I really hope that you push the MQ with Joanie to the end, even if it'll take years. It's been a long time since I did it (with Haryon) and I'd like to read about it through eyes of another.
Just like others, it took me a long time to find the puzzle box, my first character who did this quest, was sure that there must be some other area in Arkngthand that we keep missing, so we were desperately looking for doors that'd take us to another cell. Oh, I totally forgot about those dreams as you begin having as you progress through the MQ. It was neat to include them in the story.
I really hope that you push the MQ with Joanie to the end, even if it'll take years. It's been a long time since I did it (with Haryon) and I'd like to read about it through eyes of another.
With January's current run in Morroblivion, she created a Fortify Personality spell that gives her a +70 bonus for 10 seconds. It does wonders in dialogue.
I'm sure it does, Miss Rosa! ... Personality / Speech can be brutal in this game without some buffs, more brutal than weapon-swing dice-rolls or spells failing to cast. I've had two or three characters so far who want to invest in the in-game Charm spell (whatever it's called) which is hugely expensive. And only those who actually have Speech as a Major should engage in Admire like Joanie does. Otherwise, everyone will hate the character after awhile. As clunky as it is, the Disposition mini-game in OB is a life-saver compared to the way MW does it.
On the other hand, I never thought to look into Fortify Personality.
That's what I like about these games; there are more than one way to skin a cat durzog.
-- Getting that sparksword (and the Slowfall scrolls) from that Icarian Flight dude is indeed what some of mine have done. Depending on the character, they'll either sell this loot or keep it.
-- I am glad to hear Joan/me have inspired January/you. Right now my gaming is far ahead of my storytelling. Where I've last seen her is Ebonheart, where Joan specifically walked with her guard so she can start doing the Good Works the Imperial Cult offer, as well as make some more consistent drakes. Plus, Joan has a sadness about all the killing she's been involved in. She knows she's going to engage in more (as she believes this is her calling) but it will also be nice to do some non-hostile quests as well.
I never liked the versions of Turn Undead where they run away. You just have to chase them down to kill them. I prefer when Turning means doing damage/destroying all the undead in the area. That is laying down the smack of Arkay!
This is another "depends on the character" for me.
Joan (in Oblivion) has always preferred letting them run away, because she knows they'll eventually come back. Gaming with her in Morrowind, now I know why she does this. As the undead run away, she has time to think about what her next action(s) should be. Of course, if she eventually finds or creates a spell which does damage and causes them to run, so much the better.
Acadian: yes it is a double-edged sword... the fact that holier-than-thou types often go without the extra money which a lot of other adventurers don't blink an eye over.
Very true. My other two PC Morrowind Characters (Ana Khannda {Dunmer Archer} and Hera Ticch {Breton Sorcerer}) are always flush with money, for instance. Unless they blow it all in one town, which happens sometimes. This is why it's so awesome to game with different characters; each require their own playstyles from my perspective.
Awesome, Thank you!
Lopov: Yes, I do plan to write the entire Main Quest with Joan. It'll probably take several years. I wish I had done this long ago when I did Oblivion's Main Quest with The Gray Wizard.
But I didn't start writing until 2012, as you know.
There are more dreams and adventures to come. Like I said my storytelling is behind my gaming by several weeks.
But also, I'm going to switch to storytelling Skyrim pretty soon; probably after Xmas. So after Joan delivers the skull, that will be her story for 2021.
I'm sure it does, Miss Rosa! ... Personality / Speech can be brutal in this game without some buffs, more brutal than weapon-swing dice-rolls or spells failing to cast. I've had two or three characters so far who want to invest in the in-game Charm spell (whatever it's called) which is hugely expensive. And only those who actually have Speech as a Major should engage in Admire like Joanie does. Otherwise, everyone will hate the character after awhile. As clunky as it is, the Disposition mini-game in OB is a life-saver compared to the way MW does it.
On the other hand, I never thought to look into Fortify Personality.
That's what I like about these games; there are more than one way to skin a -- Getting that sparksword (and the Slowfall scrolls) from that Icarian Flight dude is indeed what some of mine have done. Depending on the character, they'll either sell this loot or keep it.
-- I am glad to hear Joan/me have inspired January/you. Right now my gaming is far ahead of my storytelling. Where I've last seen her is Ebonheart, where Joan specifically walked with her guard so she can start doing the Good Works the Imperial Cult offer, as well as make some more consistent drakes.
Plus, Joan has a sadness about all the killing she's been involved in. She knows she's going to engage in more (as she believes this is her calling) but it will also be nice to do some non-hostile quests as well. QUOTE
I never liked the versions of Turn Undead where they run away. You just have to chase them down to kill them. I prefer when Turning means doing damage/destroying all the undead in the area. That is laying down the smack of Arkay!
This is another "depends on the character" for me.
Joan (in Oblivion) has always preferred letting them run away, because she knows they'll eventually come back. Gaming with her in Morrowind, now I know why she does this. As the undead run away, she has time to think about what her next action(s) should be. Of course, if she eventually finds or creates a spell which does damage and causes them to run, so much the better. Acadian: yes it is a double-edged sword... the fact that holier-than-thou types often go without the extra money which a lot of other adventurers don't blink an eye over.
Very true. My other two PC Morrowind Characters (Ana Khannda {Dunmer Archer} and Hera Ticch {Breton Sorcerer}) are always flush with money, for instance. Unless they blow it all in one town, which happens sometimes. This is why it's so awesome to game with different characters; each require their own playstyles from my perspective. QUOTE
You did a good job of describing Joan’s progress through the tomb.
Awesome, Thank you!
Lopov: Yes, I do plan to write the entire Main Quest with Joan. It'll probably take several years. I wish I had done this long ago when I did Oblivion's Main Quest with The Gray Wizard.
But I didn't start writing until 2012, as you know. There are more dreams and adventures to come. Like I said my storytelling is behind my gaming by several weeks.
But also, I'm going to switch to storytelling Skyrim pretty soon; probably after Xmas.
So after Joan delivers the skull, that will be her story for 2021.
QUOTE(Renee @ Dec 17 2021, 09:41 AM)
I do plan to write the entire Main Quest with Joan. It'll probably take several years. I wish I had done this long ago when I did Oblivion's Main Quest with The Gray Wizard.
But I didn't start writing until 2012, as you know. Do you save and edit your Morrowind Journal to use as a future reffence as i do.
IMO Morrowind/Tribunal's journal was the best.
Looking forward for more. I wasn't thrilled with Skyrim so let's see if you can pique my interest playing it again.
Do you play original or SE version?
macole: We can edit our own journal, is that what you're saying? ... I do not do this. I write these stories as I'm gaming, and then edit them once or twice afterwards. I do also have a habit of keeping separate Notepad pages on my auxiliary (non-gaming) computer. I have to, with so many characters to keep track of.
I play the original version of Skyrim.
I've put too much into Oldrim to suddenly switch to SE, then deal with months of learning curves all over again! 
But yeah, I'm really eager for some Skyrim writing. Laprima's tale will involve more imagination than Joan's I think, but it's hard to say. I just know her story should be somewhat different.
-----------------------------------------------------------
20 Heartfire (Day 36), 3rd Era, Year 427
Hla Oad
The air is warm and the sun's getting low. Over the past few days, Joan and her guard decide they'd like to get to know the southwest portion of Vvardenfell more thoroughly. Learn its terrain, and walk its roads. To do so, they've taken a longer way back to Balmora.
During the days of Heartfire 16 until Heartfire 18, they move from Pelagiad to Seyda Neen. They then approach the tiny Bitter Coast fishing village known as Hla Oad, which they reach on Heartfire 20. Here they spend the rest of the day, chatting and moseying. Hla Oad is Joan's first experience with true Vvardenfellian poverty.
She had grown up an orphan, but a well-cultured, well-trained, well-educated orphan. Up until now, she had only read about Morrowind's more-impoverished areas in books. Reading, of course, is not the same as experiencing.
Everyone in Hla Oad lives in wooden shacks, which frequently appear to be in various states of disrepair. There are no grand, two-story tudors. No pompous displays of paint and decor. No vistas, and no braggarts. But, to be poor does not necessarily mean to be starving. Nobody in Hla Oad (excepting the local Ordinator, perhaps) seems to have any money, yet everyone is well-fed. The village's residents live off the saltwater, which is always a short walk away. Drakes may be few, but fishes and other aquatic forms of sustenance are always plentiful.
As Joan and her guard get to know the place's residents, they eventually hear rumors of a darker side, as well. The nearby coast is known to be a place where illegal smuggling sometimes pervades. The Camonna Tong, Morrowind's most organized criminal element, is also mentioned once or twice. Joan decides she'll keep her eyes watchful after she hears this, as she has read the Tong can occasionally be hostile to outlanders.
Despite these shortcomings, and despite its lack of development, Hla Oad does have charm. Its peoples are rough-talking, tough-living salt-of-Nirn types. Paupers and laborers. Most of them converse with Joan freely on a range of regional subjects. This is one place she thinks she'll not soon forget.
But there is one facet of local society which piques of unexpected predicament.
Here in Hla Oad, there is nowhere for travellers to stay!
No inn! ... No hostel! ... Not even a place to truly trade, well not at first, anyways. No temple or chapel to worship within, which for a devout Heartlands Cyrodiilian like herself seems shocking and bizarre. Before the Imperials had colonized Seyda Neen, Joan thinks that initial hamlet must also once have been in a similar state.
She finally finds a man, a Redguard, whose name is Trasteve. Trasteve barters a few things with her; mostly food. But he dwells within one of Hla Oad's shacks, which he calls Fatleg's Drop Off. Trasteve basically runs the locale's only trading shop, yet he has never bothered to hang any sort of sign on the front of his door. He's not exactly advertizing Fatleg as any sort of business, which strikes Joan as odd.
"Well, perhaps he does not wish to attract strife," she reasons to her guard. "Where active commerce commences, there are drakes. And where there are drakes, there is the possibility of thievery, or banditry. Hla Oad has just one Ordinator to keep regulatings, after all."
"You don't say?"
After trading goods, Joan spends a couple hours talking to Hla's residents. Is there any official place she can stay? No there is not. However, she eventually learns there's a bedroll she can sleep upon, but it's located under the stars, with no awning to keep the rain away. "I have be-fore slept within weather," she assures them, wondering if she should offer some gold. "My well-being, 'tis not of mightly concern, nor cause for seceded attribution."
She says these things to possibly display some humility; she is not to be mistaken for some disrespectful outlander. But the truth is, Hla Oad is a place where nobody has bothered to erect a simple inn, or simple hostel. A facet of piqued and unexpected predicament for Joan of Cyrodiil.
As she strolls to the outdoor bedroll, her guard entertains a few of the village's residents with stories of their recent exploits. Just a few weeks ago, he was once a steady sentry at Fort Moonmoth, yet now he's had his horizons widely broadened, thanks to Joan Marie of Cyrodiil. The sun goes down, and night draws in.
She says a silent prayer, and gets tucked upon the bedroll. Night and stars draw overhead. Tomorrow they'll head off to Caldera, and after another day or two, Balmora. There, she'll gladly deliver the skull wanted by Sharn gra-Muzgob, Balmora's Mages Guild orc. Filching the thing from Andrano's tomb has weighed an onus on her mind these past few days. Perhaps the skull had even influenced her dreams the other night, when she'd had an unsettling nightmare she can't exactly remember. Llevule Andrano's skull. His solid, yet fragile skull. How exactly had she gotten convinced into fetching it?
Thankfully, Joan herself does not carry the wretched thing, instead it's her guard who totes it all the way back to town. She has a few silent words with her makers, before falling off to sleep.
----------------------------
Spooky Bitter Coast Swampland
Joanie's guard entertains the locals
Hla Oad's 'outdoor Inn'
------------
NOTES
* I added the bedroll myself, along with a bunch of other bedrolls and containers in key places. Morrowind Addtions.esp is my first MW mod.
Joan is taking the long way back to Balmora, up the coast, that is. From her perspective she wants to get to know the land. From my perspective, I want to see her gain more experience. Really eager to get to Level 4.
The interesting about traveling with a guard in this game is their dialog choices change, depending where they are. If the guard is somewhere in wilderness, he will only have half the dialog topics compared to if he's in Caldera, for instance. As static as the text dialog can be in this game (every single NPC in the world having the exact same thing to say about the Nerevarine for instance) at least her guard's contracting and expanding topics are interesting.
~~~
I play the original version of Skyrim.
I've put too much into Oldrim to suddenly switch to SE, then deal with months of learning curves all over again! But yeah, I'm really eager for some Skyrim writing. Laprima's tale will involve more imagination than Joan's I think, but it's hard to say. I just know her story should be somewhat different. -----------------------------------------------------------
20 Heartfire (Day 36), 3rd Era, Year 427
Hla Oad
The air is warm and the sun's getting low. Over the past few days, Joan and her guard decide they'd like to get to know the southwest portion of Vvardenfell more thoroughly. Learn its terrain, and walk its roads. To do so, they've taken a longer way back to Balmora.
During the days of Heartfire 16 until Heartfire 18, they move from Pelagiad to Seyda Neen. They then approach the tiny Bitter Coast fishing village known as Hla Oad, which they reach on Heartfire 20. Here they spend the rest of the day, chatting and moseying. Hla Oad is Joan's first experience with true Vvardenfellian poverty.
She had grown up an orphan, but a well-cultured, well-trained, well-educated orphan. Up until now, she had only read about Morrowind's more-impoverished areas in books. Reading, of course, is not the same as experiencing.
Everyone in Hla Oad lives in wooden shacks, which frequently appear to be in various states of disrepair. There are no grand, two-story tudors. No pompous displays of paint and decor. No vistas, and no braggarts. But, to be poor does not necessarily mean to be starving. Nobody in Hla Oad (excepting the local Ordinator, perhaps) seems to have any money, yet everyone is well-fed. The village's residents live off the saltwater, which is always a short walk away. Drakes may be few, but fishes and other aquatic forms of sustenance are always plentiful.
As Joan and her guard get to know the place's residents, they eventually hear rumors of a darker side, as well. The nearby coast is known to be a place where illegal smuggling sometimes pervades. The Camonna Tong, Morrowind's most organized criminal element, is also mentioned once or twice. Joan decides she'll keep her eyes watchful after she hears this, as she has read the Tong can occasionally be hostile to outlanders.
Despite these shortcomings, and despite its lack of development, Hla Oad does have charm. Its peoples are rough-talking, tough-living salt-of-Nirn types. Paupers and laborers. Most of them converse with Joan freely on a range of regional subjects. This is one place she thinks she'll not soon forget.
But there is one facet of local society which piques of unexpected predicament.
Here in Hla Oad, there is nowhere for travellers to stay!
No inn! ... No hostel! ... Not even a place to truly trade, well not at first, anyways. No temple or chapel to worship within, which for a devout Heartlands Cyrodiilian like herself seems shocking and bizarre. Before the Imperials had colonized Seyda Neen, Joan thinks that initial hamlet must also once have been in a similar state.
She finally finds a man, a Redguard, whose name is Trasteve. Trasteve barters a few things with her; mostly food. But he dwells within one of Hla Oad's shacks, which he calls Fatleg's Drop Off. Trasteve basically runs the locale's only trading shop, yet he has never bothered to hang any sort of sign on the front of his door. He's not exactly advertizing Fatleg as any sort of business, which strikes Joan as odd.
"Well, perhaps he does not wish to attract strife," she reasons to her guard. "Where active commerce commences, there are drakes. And where there are drakes, there is the possibility of thievery, or banditry. Hla Oad has just one Ordinator to keep regulatings, after all."
"You don't say?"
After trading goods, Joan spends a couple hours talking to Hla's residents. Is there any official place she can stay? No there is not. However, she eventually learns there's a bedroll she can sleep upon, but it's located under the stars, with no awning to keep the rain away. "I have be-fore slept within weather," she assures them, wondering if she should offer some gold. "My well-being, 'tis not of mightly concern, nor cause for seceded attribution."
She says these things to possibly display some humility; she is not to be mistaken for some disrespectful outlander. But the truth is, Hla Oad is a place where nobody has bothered to erect a simple inn, or simple hostel. A facet of piqued and unexpected predicament for Joan of Cyrodiil.
As she strolls to the outdoor bedroll, her guard entertains a few of the village's residents with stories of their recent exploits. Just a few weeks ago, he was once a steady sentry at Fort Moonmoth, yet now he's had his horizons widely broadened, thanks to Joan Marie of Cyrodiil. The sun goes down, and night draws in.
She says a silent prayer, and gets tucked upon the bedroll. Night and stars draw overhead. Tomorrow they'll head off to Caldera, and after another day or two, Balmora. There, she'll gladly deliver the skull wanted by Sharn gra-Muzgob, Balmora's Mages Guild orc. Filching the thing from Andrano's tomb has weighed an onus on her mind these past few days. Perhaps the skull had even influenced her dreams the other night, when she'd had an unsettling nightmare she can't exactly remember. Llevule Andrano's skull. His solid, yet fragile skull. How exactly had she gotten convinced into fetching it?
Thankfully, Joan herself does not carry the wretched thing, instead it's her guard who totes it all the way back to town. She has a few silent words with her makers, before falling off to sleep.
----------------------------
Spooky Bitter Coast Swampland
Joanie's guard entertains the locals
Hla Oad's 'outdoor Inn'
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NOTES
* I added the bedroll myself, along with a bunch of other bedrolls and containers in key places. Morrowind Addtions.esp is my first MW mod.
Joan is taking the long way back to Balmora, up the coast, that is. From her perspective she wants to get to know the land. From my perspective, I want to see her gain more experience. Really eager to get to Level 4.
The interesting about traveling with a guard in this game is their dialog choices change, depending where they are. If the guard is somewhere in wilderness, he will only have half the dialog topics compared to if he's in Caldera, for instance. As static as the text dialog can be in this game (every single NPC in the world having the exact same thing to say about the Nerevarine for instance) at least her guard's contracting and expanding topics are interesting.
~~~
I think there are also little rats running around Hla Oad. Not like the big ones that attack you everywhere else in the game. These ones just scurry around under foot. But that might be Gnarr Mok. I get those two places confused.
January felt the same consternation over the lack of a motel the first time she visited the place as well.
January felt the same consternation over the lack of a motel the first time she visited the place as well.
What an interesting look into life in a small, isolated village in Vvardenfel.
I see Joan's guard companion is becoming quite the conversationalist.
Well, the good news is she learned quite a bit, had a chance to relax, and it didn't rain on her sleeping bag.
I see Joan's guard companion is becoming quite the conversationalist.
Well, the good news is she learned quite a bit, had a chance to relax, and it didn't rain on her sleeping bag.
QUOTE(Renee @ Dec 17 2021, 10:43 PM)
macole: We can edit our own journal, is that what you're saying? ... I do not do this. I write these stories as I'm gaming, and then edit them once or twice afterwards. I do also have a habit of keeping separate Notepad pages on my auxiliary (non-gaming) computer. I have to, with so many characters to keep track of.
Renee, There are a few mods that allow the player write in-game to the journal with varying degrees of success. What I do is more cumbersome. The journal is a html file (IIRC) with a lot of hyperlinks. I take that file copy it (text only) to a Word doc. Then I edit it by removing all the @ and # so that this:
16 Last Seed (Day 1)
My @orders# are to go to the town of @Balmora# in @Vvardenfell District# and @report# to a man named @Caius Cosades#. To find out where he lives, I should ask in @Balmora# at the cornerclub called @South Wall#. When I find @Caius Cosades#, I must give him a @package# of documents, and wait for @fur#ther @orders#.
becomes this:
16 Last Seed (Day 1)
My orders are to go to the town of Balmora in Vvardenfell District and report to a man named Caius Cosades. To find out where he lives, I should ask in Balmora at the cornerclub called South Wall. When I find Caius Cosades, I must give him a package of documents, and wait for further orders.
It is now a nice little outline of events. Do it often so you don't forget what you do inbetween journal entries. Otherwise you're left with trying to fill in pics, personal thoughts, and other details to a 227 page Word Docx of a journal outline that ran from 2012 to 2017 tracking 893 game days.
I enjoyed your description of a simple life in Hla Oad, this was actually the focus of this story. It also brings back some memories as one of my characters, probably Haryon, came to Hla Oad and tried to sleep in there, only to find out like Joan, that you can't sleep there.
Nice screenie too.
Nice screenie too.
Rats? Gosh I can't say I've seen little rats in any of these villages. Wonder if that's a mod. If so, I want it.
I've had MW characters in the past who don't care about breaking into peoples' homes. We can basically sleep in almost anybody's home in this game, that's not Joan though. Perhaps in the future, she will Speech-up somebody whom she likes, and then I can RP she gets a place to stay for the night. Or I can just add more bedrolls.
That works too.
I really enjoyed writing that one, Acadian. Not sure why, since nothing really happens. It's just inspriation, I guess. Sometimes those sort of stories turn out just as immersive as the more-action-packed ones.
Yes that moment when all those NPCs were clustered around Joan's guard made me chuckle. He was in the middle of that small crowd. It was almost like he was entertaining them with his stories of woe.
Nice, macole, that is awesome! How do you write into an html file though?
I have two computers: one for gaming, and one for everything else. I usually type on the second computer (the 'everything else' one) as I'm gaming, although sometimes I will also type up material outside of gaming. That usually works if I'm trying to tell the imagination part of a character's story.
Danke, Lopov.
Maybe Joan will eventually cross paths with Haryon, especially once she gets to the Imperial Cult in Ebonheart. We should do a co-write.
Gosh I can't say I've seen little rats in any of these villages. Wonder if that's a mod. If so, I want it. I've had MW characters in the past who don't care about breaking into peoples' homes. We can basically sleep in almost anybody's home in this game, that's not Joan though. Perhaps in the future, she will Speech-up somebody whom she likes, and then I can RP she gets a place to stay for the night. Or I can just add more bedrolls.
That works too. I really enjoyed writing that one, Acadian. Not sure why, since nothing really happens.
It's just inspriation, I guess. Sometimes those sort of stories turn out just as immersive as the more-action-packed ones. Yes that moment when all those NPCs were clustered around Joan's guard made me chuckle. He was in the middle of that small crowd. It was almost like he was entertaining them with his stories of woe.
Nice, macole, that is awesome! How do you write into an html file though?
I have two computers: one for gaming, and one for everything else. I usually type on the second computer (the 'everything else' one) as I'm gaming, although sometimes I will also type up material outside of gaming. That usually works if I'm trying to tell the imagination part of a character's story.
Danke, Lopov.
Maybe Joan will eventually cross paths with Haryon, especially once she gets to the Imperial Cult in Ebonheart. We should do a co-write.
25 Heartfire (Day 41), early morning
The Skull of Andrano
Location: Balmora Fighters Guild
Sleep, sleep and more sleep. After all their travels, and all their adventures, sleep is first on the list. Let Dibella and Mara do their respective, restorative works.
Joan awakes the next morning, and heads to Eight Plates. Here she has a meal of saltice and kwama eggs. Vvardenfellian cuisine at its best; it's taken some getting used to. Oh, how she misses Cyrodiil. If Joan ever finds a locale which serves all homeland meals: corn, meat, potatoes and (by glory) sweetrolls, she thinks she might just stay there awhile.
She eats slowly. Her nerves are frazzled after so much travel, her muscles ache after so many days. Encounters with bandits, encounters with aggressive creatures she had only read about in treatises and field manuals. Fights and strategies. Improper sleeping conditions, improper living conditions. All of this has worn at her. Wouldn't it be nice to take a day of rest, and respite?
She finishes her meal, and then begins to wonder which day it is. Heartfire 25 is the date, of this she is sure, but which actual day of the week is it?
She muses over this for awhile. If it's Sundas, she'd like to spend some time in worship, just as she would back home. Problem is, there are no weekly types of calendars to be found in Morrowind. The nearest place for her to worship is Fort Moonmoth, which is roughly two miles away, and she hasn't got the will to go anywhere out of town.
She does have a list of chores, though. First on her list is the Fighters Guild. Time to get rid of this dreaded skull. She leaves Eight Plates, then walks down the avenue. Turns left, where the guild is located. Once inside, she delivers the Skull of Llevule Andrano to Sharn gra-Muzgob.
"Strength is a virtue, friend," says the orc. "Welcome."
"I have made my return, healer. Please, gratify the gods by ... ehm... claiming this skull of Llevule for your own." Over the past few days, she has grown leery of carrying what was once the topmost bone structure within an Andrano family member's head. Within that bone structure decisions were made, perceptions collected, dreams and loves and disappointments realized. ... *Urk!* ... "Have I now meet thy query, Sharn?" Even if it was her guard who mostly toted the thing, just having it nearby it all those miles caused Joan Marie discomfort.
The orc healer smiles. "Very good," she says. "I'll just take that skull from you. Thank you."
"Delighted."
"Now. As I promised, I'll answer your questions on the Nerevarine cult. Go ahead."
Hmm. It is now Joan realizes she hasn't got a clue what sort of question she'd like to ask. She ponders for a few moments, while the orc does something with a bit of powder on a small table.
First there is the subject of the Nerevar, who Joan assumes is the focus of the Nerevarine cult. Joan has heard by now that the Nerevar was a Chimer (precursor to the Dunmer race), who lived long ago in the First Era. The Nerevar is expected to return to the land of Morrowind at some point, Joan has heard many people say. There is some disagreement if the Nerevar is supposed to be one of the gods, and if he should be recognized in such a way. Followers of the cult were also known not to agree that the Tribunal, the three gods recognized by many Vvardenfell's Ashlanders, should be recognized as gods.
Joan tells the orc all of these things. Then, she takes out her quill, expecting to do a bit of writing. "So, have you anything to say regarding my current knowledge of the Nerevarine cult?"
The orc takes a sip of something from a tan pitcher, before replying. "The Ashlander cult believes the long-dead Nerevar will be reborn to honor ancient promises to the tribes."
Joan adds some ink upon her quill, and begins scratching notes into her journal.
"According to legend, the prophesied Nerevarine will cast down the false gods of the Tribunal Temple, restore the traditional ancestor worship practiced by the Ashlanders, and drive all outlanders from Morrowind."
"By the Nine!" ...scratch, scratch, scratch
"Yes," the orc continues. "Both Temple and the Empire outlawed the cult, but it persists among the Ashlanders, who care little for Imperial or Temple law."
Though she says nothing, Joan Marie silently decides she disagrees with this. An entire belief system of devotion being outlawed? But why? There must be more to this.
"Take this copy of my notes on the topic for Caius."
"You have a copy for me?" She has a copy for her? Joan stops scribbling notes.
"Fight well!" says the orc.
------------------------
Mid morning
A studious introvert, Joan takes the time to study the notes given to her by Sharn. Of particular interest are these words...
The most common version of the Nerevarine Prophecy is THE STRANGER. The verses are obscure, as are most prophecies. But two observations are in order...
Sharn's notes ramble a bit, but it's the mention of a stranger which catches Joan's eyes. For she had already met a strange man who'd confronted her in Pelagiad a week before. The stranger knew Joan's name. He'd lectured her a bit about Dagoth Ur. Joan racks her head for a moment before remembering his exact words. "You cannot deny Lord Dagoth," he had told her. "The Sixth House is risen, and Dagoth Ur is its glory."
"Could this have anything to do with the Nerevarine Prophecy?" she wonders aloud.
Joan thinks about this as she goes to do some bartering. Two hours later, and now she's back with Caius. "Tidings, citizen," he says.
"I have returned, sir. Here are the notes given to me by Sharn gra-Muzgob."
"Are these Sharn's notes on the Nerevarine cult?"
The Novice of Blades before him nods. She also wonders if Caius has been hitting the skooma already this morning, for she'd literally just explained whose notes were handed over.
Skooma addict or not, the man flexes his power. "Excellent. I'm promoting you to Apprentice, Joan of Cyrodiil," Caius says.
Apprentice, eh. "Are you?"
"I'd like some time to think how this fits in with the Emperor's plans for you."
... Now this is a surprise. The Emperor's plans for me, she thinks, while trying to keep the slack out of her jaw. He did just say 'Emperor's' and 'you' in the same sentence, did he not?
"So if you'd like to get in a little freelance adventuring," continues Caius, "go ahead. But whenever you're ready, I'll have new orders for you."
"By gracious, sire. I shall do as you suggest. See, I have been broadening my armoring skills, and have also taken to swinging a mace as of late, rather than my usual shortsword, which I've trained since youth," she gushes. She then pauses, waiting for the man before her to continue the conversation in some way. But he does not. "You see, shortswords are quite frequently the tools of rogues," she explains. "Of charlatans and thieves. I have come to these conclusions, by merit and experience. And so slowly, I have broadened my strength, as well. Might I someday present myself as a true warrior, perhaps!"
There's finally a smile in her voice as she says this last bit, along with a smidge of sarcasm. A small indulgence of pride. Not something she usually grants herself. She hopes the Gods are fondly smiling.
But her overseer says nothing.
"Ehm, have you any notion of what day it is? Which day of the week?" asks she. "Is it Sundas, by chance? Loredas? No-one here seems to keep a calendar."
Caius Cosades doesn't seem to know which day it is, either.
Joan Marie of Cheydinhal leaves the man's presence, thinking she and her guard'll head off to Ebonheart.
Back to Joan the virtuous walker.
Potatoes! Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew Joanie!
I love how Joan is concerned about using a short blade because its associated with rogues. Only respectable weapons for her! Which is actually kind of a real thing, given that IRL the sword was the weapon of aristocracy, like knights and samurai, while the peasants used things like spears.
I bet it is at least a day that ends in "das".
Potatoes! Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew Joanie!
I love how Joan is concerned about using a short blade because its associated with rogues. Only respectable weapons for her! Which is actually kind of a real thing, given that IRL the sword was the weapon of aristocracy, like knights and samurai, while the peasants used things like spears.
I bet it is at least a day that ends in "das".
Finally Joan gets a chance to catch up on her rest, and even close out a couple tasks.
I share SubRosa's interest in Joan's view of short swords. Though they can be superb in a disciplined tight formation (as practiced by the Romans), they are less than ideal for a lone knight where she can typically expect more room to exploit a longer reach than short swords provide.
I share SubRosa's interest in Joan's view of short swords. Though they can be superb in a disciplined tight formation (as practiced by the Romans), they are less than ideal for a lone knight where she can typically expect more room to exploit a longer reach than short swords provide.
I like Joan's interpretation of the note, but there has been another stranger in the land of the Dunmer, right? 
Looks like Caius still hasn't found a shirt. No wonder that he doesn't know which day it is, his brain is definitely addled through skooma.
Looks like Caius still hasn't found a shirt. No wonder that he doesn't know which day it is, his brain is definitely addled through skooma.
Lol at the video. It's been a long time since I've seen that movie.
Yes, very true about swords being weapons of the royals, while spears were more for the peasants & serfs. I recently read that bit about short swords being used often by "charlatans and thieves" somewhere, maybe even in one of Bethesda's in-game books.
All the sudden I've begun to feel this urge for her to try new things. It's another cliché that maces are used by clerics and holy types, and for her to switch from a Major to a Minor skill just like that is really brutal at this point. But it's what she wants. And from my perspective, the uphill challenge (finding trainers and such) is sort of fun. Especially when she hits!
Hmm, I am not sure if there's another stranger in this land, Lopov. Haven't gotten that far into the story yet.
I wonder if I should add a shirt to Caius in the Construction Set, right?
Well it's appreciated for y'all to stick with Joan's story (or any of these stories) week after week. Inspiration comes as people read & leave comments. That's why we post in public forums. Because WE already know what happens. So that's why we share.
Joan's story will continue in a few months. Take care.
Yes, very true about swords being weapons of the royals, while spears were more for the peasants & serfs. I recently read that bit about short swords being used often by "charlatans and thieves" somewhere, maybe even in one of Bethesda's in-game books.
All the sudden I've begun to feel this urge for her to try new things. It's another cliché that maces are used by clerics and holy types, and for her to switch from a Major to a Minor skill just like that is really brutal at this point. But it's what she wants. And from my perspective, the uphill challenge (finding trainers and such) is sort of fun. Especially when she hits! Hmm, I am not sure if there's another stranger in this land, Lopov. Haven't gotten that far into the story yet.
I wonder if I should add a shirt to Caius in the Construction Set, right?
Well it's appreciated for y'all to stick with Joan's story (or any of these stories) week after week. Inspiration comes as people read & leave comments. That's why we post in public forums. Because WE already know what happens. So that's why we share.
Joan's story will continue in a few months.
Take care. QUOTE(Renee @ Jan 2 2022, 04:50 PM)
I wonder if I should add a shirt to Caius in the Construction Set, right?
NOOOOOOOOOOO!! Then he wouldn't be Caius.
Just caught up on this! It's fun to see the Morrowind main quest through new eyes, and Joan brings an endearing fish-out-of-water quality. One thing I really like is how Joan acts like a real person, but the world around her functions exactly like the game world--complete with questionable pathfinding AI that doesn't know when it's outmatched. But Joan remains, unflappable and determined to bring the light of the Nine to those who listen.
Though at this point, she might need CHIM to make that happen.
Though at this point, she might need CHIM to make that happen.
Awesome, glad to read your insights, Clavier. You really are supportive.
Joan's story was supposed to be a mere set of updates (my character is in X doing Y and is about to go to Z) but right away I began with the fiction. Can't help it! I wrote a new Joanie just the other day, but it's a shortie. I don't want to put too much energy into her story, not the hours I spilled into Laprima.
So I'm going to try to make most of her stories shorter. Maybe 2 or 3 hours of writing, an hour of editing, which translates into 5 to 10 minutes of reading. In comparison, each Laprima was (phew) maybe 6 to 8 hours of writing, editing, and that's not even including the quests & dialog I hand-wrote!
I keep forgetting what CHIM is. Ah, that is the controversial explanation added to explain some changes, mostly in Oblivion? That's what I'm getting from the UESP Lore article in CHIM with just a quick glance.
You really are supportive. Joan's story was supposed to be a mere set of updates (my character is in X doing Y and is about to go to Z) but right away I began with the fiction. Can't help it! I wrote a new Joanie just the other day, but it's a shortie. I don't want to put too much energy into her story, not the hours I spilled into Laprima.
So I'm going to try to make most of her stories shorter. Maybe 2 or 3 hours of writing, an hour of editing, which translates into 5 to 10 minutes of reading. In comparison, each Laprima was (phew) maybe 6 to 8 hours of writing, editing, and that's not even including the quests & dialog I hand-wrote!
I keep forgetting what CHIM is. Ah, that is the controversial explanation added to explain some changes, mostly in Oblivion? That's what I'm getting from the UESP Lore article in CHIM with just a quick glance.
QUOTE(Renee @ May 3 2022, 03:08 PM)
So I'm going to try to make most of her stories shorter. Maybe 2 or 3 hours of writing, an hour of editing, which translates into 5 to 10 minutes of reading. In comparison, each Laprima was (phew) maybe 6 to 8 hours of writing, editing, and that's not even including the quests & dialog I hand-wrote!
Wow, Renee, that's a big effort! We, your readers, do appreciate it though! Keep it up!
QUOTE(Renee @ May 3 2022, 09:08 AM)
So I'm going to try to make most of her stories shorter. Maybe 2 or 3 hours of writing, an hour of editing, which translates into 5 to 10 minutes of reading. In comparison, each Laprima was (phew) maybe 6 to 8 hours of writing, editing, and that's not even including the quests & dialog I hand-wrote!
I keep forgetting what CHIM is. Ah, that is the controversial explanation added to explain some changes, mostly in Oblivion? That's what I'm getting from the UESP Lore article in CHIM with just a quick glance.
Renee, in just a day or two, you do more for two characters than I do in a week for just one.
CHIM and Dragon Breaks, Dragon Breaks and CHIM; Bethesda has been explaining changes from game to game since the beginning.
Aw thanks. Really, a few hours is nothing compared to some other writers here who spend months, putting their material through several drafts, having others proofread their story, and so on.
I'll continue Joan probably in June. My daughter's about to finish her first year of college and I'm just trying to be more outdoorsy and social during this month of May.
Really, a few hours is nothing compared to some other writers here who spend months, putting their material through several drafts, having others proofread their story, and so on. I'll continue Joan probably in June. My daughter's about to finish her first year of college and I'm just trying to be more outdoorsy and social during this month of May.
Hey amigos, Renee G here. I wanted to play some Fallout 3 this weekend so I could finish the next Vicious tale, but it's been overcast/rainy all weekend. For me, this means Elder Scrolls instead of Fallout. Which is fine. I have a few new Joans which have been sitting since April & May.
This first one's a shortie. Nothing spectacular. Let's see here...
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Chapter XXI: Ebonheart
"Hello, Joan of Cyrodiil," says a Redguard. "My name is Kaye, and I'm in charge of the volunteer shrine sergeants for the cult. Are you ready for your first shrine sergeant assignment?"
Joan had arrived to Ebonheart the day before. Ebonheart, an Imperial town, and perhaps the most prosperous one in Morrowind. She spent the night in the town's inn to get some rest, and today has decided to begin her career as a Layman of Ebonheart's Imperial Cult.
Finding the place was rather difficult. First, she had to navigate yet another set of random, confusing streets and causeways, asking directions of people she'd only just met. Good thing she's lately been in the habit of becoming more social. Not once did anybody tell her to 'get lost' or say 'I don't trust you enough to talk about that'. Once she narrowed down which building the cult is in, actually finding its quarters was like navigating a maze.
Finally, the door to the place, which is located in a tight outdoor alcove, far away from any sort of civilian traipses. Odd, for an institution which is supposedly devoted to Good Works. Joan feels as though she's just established how to get to some sort of covert operation or business. Morag Tong or Dark Brotherhood, or some such.
Her first task seems to have nothing to do with Good Works. She is to find a bowl made of limeware, which disappeared from the cult's shrine sometime in the past. But there's a clinch: The bowl went missing after being in the company of a high elf named Caryarel.
"I see," Joan says to Kaye. "And what sort of notions have been discerned, concerning this 'Caryarel'? Might there be some reason why he's seemingly branded a thief?"
Caryarel had come to the Imperial Cult weakened by swamp fever. Kaye surmises the elf probably lives somewhere on the Bitter Coast, maybe in one of its fishing villages. But that's the best Kaye can do, so far as information. "Try asking around among the high elves," he suggests. "I believe there are several serving in the Hawkmoth Legion Garrison here in Ebonheart."
So begins Joan's first Imperial Cult quest. Go fetch this limeware bowl. Well hey, at least she's not being tasked to bring back somebody's skull.
She also receives a request from Iulus Truptor, one of the cult's savants, who tells Joan she'll need to gather money from the Skyrim Mission. "Bring me 100 gold if you can," Iulus tells her.
So she gets right to it. Spends a couple hours finding the mission, and another couple talking up its residents (who are all Nords) for donations. Altogether she is able to gather 35 drakes' worth of tithes from every mission member except its Primate, whose name is Heidmir. Immediately, this man takes a dislike to her, and she can tell none of her words will be able to change this. Not right now, anyway.
In all, there isn't much else for her to do in town. After spending three days in Ebonheart, Joan gets the urge to move on. When she receives a request to head to Peligiad and deliver a potion to a farmer, she returns to walking the road with her guard.
Before heading out, she places a small parcel of gold upon the cult's altar to receive her daily blessing. As she does so, she senses the many planes of existence which surround and intertwine with her own.
-----------------------
NOTES: I am in the habit of saving during particular moments, such as, if my character opens a door, casts a fortify spell, and so. In Joan's game whenever Joan receives a blessing, I use that moment sort of like a checkpoint to save her game! .. Perhaps this is a nod back to those early console games such as the first Tomb Raider, which only allowed us to save if we found a floating green gem.
This first one's a shortie. Nothing spectacular. Let's see here...
----------------
Chapter XXI: Ebonheart
"Hello, Joan of Cyrodiil," says a Redguard. "My name is Kaye, and I'm in charge of the volunteer shrine sergeants for the cult. Are you ready for your first shrine sergeant assignment?"
Joan had arrived to Ebonheart the day before. Ebonheart, an Imperial town, and perhaps the most prosperous one in Morrowind. She spent the night in the town's inn to get some rest, and today has decided to begin her career as a Layman of Ebonheart's Imperial Cult.
Finding the place was rather difficult. First, she had to navigate yet another set of random, confusing streets and causeways, asking directions of people she'd only just met. Good thing she's lately been in the habit of becoming more social. Not once did anybody tell her to 'get lost' or say 'I don't trust you enough to talk about that'. Once she narrowed down which building the cult is in, actually finding its quarters was like navigating a maze.
Finally, the door to the place, which is located in a tight outdoor alcove, far away from any sort of civilian traipses. Odd, for an institution which is supposedly devoted to Good Works. Joan feels as though she's just established how to get to some sort of covert operation or business. Morag Tong or Dark Brotherhood, or some such.
Her first task seems to have nothing to do with Good Works. She is to find a bowl made of limeware, which disappeared from the cult's shrine sometime in the past. But there's a clinch: The bowl went missing after being in the company of a high elf named Caryarel.
"I see," Joan says to Kaye. "And what sort of notions have been discerned, concerning this 'Caryarel'? Might there be some reason why he's seemingly branded a thief?"
Caryarel had come to the Imperial Cult weakened by swamp fever. Kaye surmises the elf probably lives somewhere on the Bitter Coast, maybe in one of its fishing villages. But that's the best Kaye can do, so far as information. "Try asking around among the high elves," he suggests. "I believe there are several serving in the Hawkmoth Legion Garrison here in Ebonheart."
So begins Joan's first Imperial Cult quest. Go fetch this limeware bowl. Well hey, at least she's not being tasked to bring back somebody's skull.
She also receives a request from Iulus Truptor, one of the cult's savants, who tells Joan she'll need to gather money from the Skyrim Mission. "Bring me 100 gold if you can," Iulus tells her.
So she gets right to it. Spends a couple hours finding the mission, and another couple talking up its residents (who are all Nords) for donations. Altogether she is able to gather 35 drakes' worth of tithes from every mission member except its Primate, whose name is Heidmir. Immediately, this man takes a dislike to her, and she can tell none of her words will be able to change this. Not right now, anyway.
In all, there isn't much else for her to do in town. After spending three days in Ebonheart, Joan gets the urge to move on. When she receives a request to head to Peligiad and deliver a potion to a farmer, she returns to walking the road with her guard.
Before heading out, she places a small parcel of gold upon the cult's altar to receive her daily blessing. As she does so, she senses the many planes of existence which surround and intertwine with her own.
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NOTES: I am in the habit of saving during particular moments, such as, if my character opens a door, casts a fortify spell, and so. In Joan's game whenever Joan receives a blessing, I use that moment sort of like a checkpoint to save her game! .. Perhaps this is a nod back to those early console games such as the first Tomb Raider, which only allowed us to save if we found a floating green gem.
There is so much Morrowind stuff going on right now, it tempts me to go back again. I recently did January in Morroblivion party due to inspiration from this story. I even did the Imperial Cult questline with her because of Joan's adventures.
I feel for Joan. Navigating the labyrinth of interior corridors and towers of Ebonheart is a chore. Finding specific individuals can be a nightmare. Jan eventually used Levitate to fly in and out of the Cult section.
Jan had so much money at the point I started the Cult quests that she did not bother fundraising. She just gave the Cult her own money.
Whenever I see the title "Primate" I cannot help but think of that word's biological meaning, and I keep thinking they are referring to a monkey, or gorilla, or human.
I feel for Joan. Navigating the labyrinth of interior corridors and towers of Ebonheart is a chore. Finding specific individuals can be a nightmare. Jan eventually used Levitate to fly in and out of the Cult section.
Jan had so much money at the point I started the Cult quests that she did not bother fundraising. She just gave the Cult her own money.
Whenever I see the title "Primate" I cannot help but think of that word's biological meaning, and I keep thinking they are referring to a monkey, or gorilla, or human.
This should be interesting. It's been a long, long time since I touched the Imperial Cult, like the first year I played Morrowind back in 2002 or '03. I remember nothing, so when you mentioned the limeware bowl my thought went straight to to one in the Census Office.
Welcome back to Joan as she continues her Morrowind travels and travails. I'm with SubRosa about primates. I'd hate to work hard in a church only to rise to the lofty title of Primate. Heck, I had that title nailed the moment I was born. Joan will probably be happy to be back on the road instead of confined in Ebonheart.
Joan will probably be happy to be back on the road instead of confined in Ebonheart.
Primate is an oddly named rank, isn't it? I know it's used in some Christian denominations, but I'm not clear as to why.
Regardless, the Imperial Cult's probably a good place for Joan, even if she does find some of the tasks to be a bit on the drab side. For her sake, I hope she gets a mark/recall spell, or at least a divine intervention spell. Getting to Ebonheart can be very inconvenient without those.
Regardless, the Imperial Cult's probably a good place for Joan, even if she does find some of the tasks to be a bit on the drab side. For her sake, I hope she gets a mark/recall spell, or at least a divine intervention spell. Getting to Ebonheart can be very inconvenient without those.
It is 4:27 in the morning and I'm already up and about. Yesterday was really gross and hot. We were at my mom's. I virtually bribed her to turn the A/C on. Partially so I could sit inside and edit today's story. Today (and tomorrow) will be more perfect weather. It'll be harder for me to concentrate on Elder Scrolls since it'll also be sunny, so I'll post this next tale early.
@ Clavier: Yes, Primate is perhaps one of those terms which had more than one meaning back in the days of real guilds, but now we only know of the one meaning. Makes it sound like there's an ape in the Imperial Cult. Too early for a Google search, but Dictionary.com says 1. Ecclesiastical. an archbishop or bishop ranking first among the bishops of a province or country.
She's happy being in the cult though, perfect for her roleplay, so far.
@ Acadian: Thanks! Last week's tale was just a warm-up. I'll try to put more effort into her future write-ups, although I can also promise most of these stories will be on the shorter side. A couple days ago I was recompiling all my old Oblivion stories, so that they're all stored & cataloged on my new computer: Kahree, Sarah Phimm, even some early Joan writings. It's amazing how long some of those tales were!
macole: Wow, I didn't even know there's a limeware bowl in the Census office! I wonder if Joan could simply steal that one! 🥷 Kidding. It was more fun heading up to confront Caryarel directly. Plus, Joan would rather die in a storm full of cliff racers before she'd commit any sort of crime.
SubRosa: Morrowind's a fun game, and I feel like I am two decades behind the rest of y'all since I didn't start playing until the summer of 2018.
Oh gosh, finding that place was horrible! I'm so tempted to jump in the Construction Set and add a back door somewhere!
That actually is a good idea, to just use Joan's own money. 🏧 Problem is, she is perpetually poor.
Partially so I could sit inside and edit today's story. Today (and tomorrow) will be more perfect weather. It'll be harder for me to concentrate on Elder Scrolls since it'll also be sunny, so I'll post this next tale early. @ Clavier: Yes, Primate is perhaps one of those terms which had more than one meaning back in the days of real guilds, but now we only know of the one meaning. Makes it sound like there's an ape in the Imperial Cult. Too early for a Google search, but Dictionary.com says 1. Ecclesiastical. an archbishop or bishop ranking first among the bishops of a province or country.
She's happy being in the cult though, perfect for her roleplay, so far.
@ Acadian: Thanks! Last week's tale was just a warm-up. I'll try to put more effort into her future write-ups, although I can also promise most of these stories will be on the shorter side. A couple days ago I was recompiling all my old Oblivion stories, so that they're all stored & cataloged on my new computer: Kahree, Sarah Phimm, even some early Joan writings. It's amazing how long some of those tales were!
macole: Wow, I didn't even know there's a limeware bowl in the Census office! I wonder if Joan could simply steal that one! 🥷 Kidding. It was more fun heading up to confront Caryarel directly. Plus, Joan would rather die in a storm full of cliff racers before she'd commit any sort of crime.
SubRosa: Morrowind's a fun game, and I feel like I am two decades behind the rest of y'all since I didn't start playing until the summer of 2018.
QUOTE
I feel for Joan. Navigating the labyrinth of interior corridors and towers of Ebonheart is a chore. Finding specific individuals can be a nightmare. Jan eventually used Levitate to fly in and out of the Cult section.
Oh gosh, finding that place was horrible! I'm so tempted to jump in the Construction Set and add a back door somewhere!
That actually is a good idea, to just use Joan's own money. 🏧 Problem is, she is perpetually poor.
6 Frost Fall (Day 52), early evening
Chapter XXII: Ebonheart II
Joan returns to Ebonheart with a pouch full of marshmarrow, which she is to deliver to one of the Imperial Cult's members. The day is fair and warm and dry. Despite her journey, she takes immediate time to stroll about Ebonheart, occasionally conversing with the locals. It is in this way that she meets a knight wearing shiny armor. "Think it'll rain?" the knight asks.
Joan (being a newly loquacious sort) speaks to this man on a couple of topics, and learns he is the one who she is supposed to speak to about a current, unusual subject which she had experienced firsthand in Pelagiad. It’s not every day which somebody gets attacked by an actual Dark Brotherhood assassin. And Joan wants to know why it happened to her. She's a virtual newcomer to the province after all. Why would an assassin target her?
"What's this about the Dark Brotherhood?" asks Apelles Marius, the knight in shining armor, who also happens to be a superior member of the Imperial Legion here in Ebonheart. "You say you've been attacked by them? The fact that you're standing here seems to suggest otherwise."
Is this a joke? "I can only attest to what has occurred to me personally, sir," Joan replies calmly, feeling a little surprised that the shiny knight before her only expresses doubt. "A Dark Brother associate somehow chose to locate me within Pelagiad, and as I attempted to literally lay my head within Halfway Tavern. I was assaulted, yet managed to defeat the intruder."
Apelles scratches his chin. "Perhaps you have been attacked," he begins, pondering the thought. "That's bad business. I don't know who it is that wants you dead, and I don't want to know."
"Gracious, milord. Well, I thank ye for considering my tale, at the very least."
The Cyrodiilian says these words, while also wondering. Why even bother to adorn oneself within such shiny, sturdy gear, in full supposed representation of the Empire, yet so blatantly choose the path of a coward?
"Dark Brotherhood activity here on Vvardenfell has been almost unheard of," Apelles continues. "But I know they have a large contingent back on the mainland."
"Well, yes, of course," Joan answers. "I was raised in Cyrodiil, and spent my youth in Cheydinhal. There were rumors that the Brotherhood resided somewhere within my very home town," she says with a shudder, thinking back to one particular house. "What other facets might pertain toward their discovery here in Vvardenfell?"
"Yes, they’re rumored to be in Mournhold itself, actually," says Apelles. "If you're feeling particularly suicidal, you can check it out for yourself. Of course, it's not easy to get there these days. Because of the blight."
"The blight?" She'd already heard a few things about blight disease here in Morrowind, but it never did hurt to learn whatever more she could.
Apelles Marius tells Joan a few things about Mournhold, and why it is thought the Brotherhood have been sighted there. Now that she knows blighted creatures inhabit the place, she's not too keen to get there anytime soon.
Joan thanks Apelles for his information, and says something pleasantly forthcoming to brighten the man's day.
"With me? Thanks!"
Upon returning to the Ebonheart chapter of the Imperial Cult Joan delivers five examples of marshmarrow to Synnolian Tunifus. She is rewarded with a healing potion, and a mortar and pestle (which she'll probably never use).
"Speak to me again when you are ready for another healer quest," says the monk. "And goodness! I was so busy, I almost forgot. Have you checked your advancement in the Imperial Cult?"
"Advancement? Why, no, I have not."
"As you serve Mara and the Nine," says Synnolian, "so you shall rise in rank. Congratulations, Joan of Cyrodiil. You have been promoted to Novice."
Though these titles and advancements ultimately have little meaning for her, it is nice to know she's making some sort of difference in her strange new home. Even if, for now, this 'difference' is made through collecting random ingredients, random monies, and fetching objects which have gone missing. Speaking of which, she's off to the Bitter Coast next. There's a bowl made of limeware somewhere out there, which needs to return to its proper home.
---------------------
Notes: Joan ascended to Level 5 during this session! I put +3 into Strength (39 now), +2 into Agility (36), and +2 into Personality (42). ST, because she's been learning to repair her own gear, and also has been using a mace instead of a shortsword. PER, because that's her job, to talk to people. And AG because... well... it sucks getting hit & losing balance all the time.
Chapter XXII: Ebonheart II
Joan returns to Ebonheart with a pouch full of marshmarrow, which she is to deliver to one of the Imperial Cult's members. The day is fair and warm and dry. Despite her journey, she takes immediate time to stroll about Ebonheart, occasionally conversing with the locals. It is in this way that she meets a knight wearing shiny armor. "Think it'll rain?" the knight asks.
Joan (being a newly loquacious sort) speaks to this man on a couple of topics, and learns he is the one who she is supposed to speak to about a current, unusual subject which she had experienced firsthand in Pelagiad. It’s not every day which somebody gets attacked by an actual Dark Brotherhood assassin. And Joan wants to know why it happened to her. She's a virtual newcomer to the province after all. Why would an assassin target her?
"What's this about the Dark Brotherhood?" asks Apelles Marius, the knight in shining armor, who also happens to be a superior member of the Imperial Legion here in Ebonheart. "You say you've been attacked by them? The fact that you're standing here seems to suggest otherwise."
Is this a joke? "I can only attest to what has occurred to me personally, sir," Joan replies calmly, feeling a little surprised that the shiny knight before her only expresses doubt. "A Dark Brother associate somehow chose to locate me within Pelagiad, and as I attempted to literally lay my head within Halfway Tavern. I was assaulted, yet managed to defeat the intruder."
Apelles scratches his chin. "Perhaps you have been attacked," he begins, pondering the thought. "That's bad business. I don't know who it is that wants you dead, and I don't want to know."
"Gracious, milord. Well, I thank ye for considering my tale, at the very least."
The Cyrodiilian says these words, while also wondering. Why even bother to adorn oneself within such shiny, sturdy gear, in full supposed representation of the Empire, yet so blatantly choose the path of a coward?
"Dark Brotherhood activity here on Vvardenfell has been almost unheard of," Apelles continues. "But I know they have a large contingent back on the mainland."
"Well, yes, of course," Joan answers. "I was raised in Cyrodiil, and spent my youth in Cheydinhal. There were rumors that the Brotherhood resided somewhere within my very home town," she says with a shudder, thinking back to one particular house. "What other facets might pertain toward their discovery here in Vvardenfell?"
"Yes, they’re rumored to be in Mournhold itself, actually," says Apelles. "If you're feeling particularly suicidal, you can check it out for yourself. Of course, it's not easy to get there these days. Because of the blight."
"The blight?" She'd already heard a few things about blight disease here in Morrowind, but it never did hurt to learn whatever more she could.
Apelles Marius tells Joan a few things about Mournhold, and why it is thought the Brotherhood have been sighted there. Now that she knows blighted creatures inhabit the place, she's not too keen to get there anytime soon.
Joan thanks Apelles for his information, and says something pleasantly forthcoming to brighten the man's day.
"With me? Thanks!"
Upon returning to the Ebonheart chapter of the Imperial Cult Joan delivers five examples of marshmarrow to Synnolian Tunifus. She is rewarded with a healing potion, and a mortar and pestle (which she'll probably never use).
"Speak to me again when you are ready for another healer quest," says the monk. "And goodness! I was so busy, I almost forgot. Have you checked your advancement in the Imperial Cult?"
"Advancement? Why, no, I have not."
"As you serve Mara and the Nine," says Synnolian, "so you shall rise in rank. Congratulations, Joan of Cyrodiil. You have been promoted to Novice."
Though these titles and advancements ultimately have little meaning for her, it is nice to know she's making some sort of difference in her strange new home. Even if, for now, this 'difference' is made through collecting random ingredients, random monies, and fetching objects which have gone missing. Speaking of which, she's off to the Bitter Coast next. There's a bowl made of limeware somewhere out there, which needs to return to its proper home.
---------------------
Notes: Joan ascended to Level 5 during this session! I put +3 into Strength (39 now), +2 into Agility (36), and +2 into Personality (42). ST, because she's been learning to repair her own gear, and also has been using a mace instead of a shortsword. PER, because that's her job, to talk to people. And AG because... well... it sucks getting hit & losing balance all the time.
Was thinking about the title Primate. . . . Were I ever to rise in the church to a lofty title, I'd much rather be called Optimus Prime.
That knight didn't seem too knightly beyond his shiny armor. Who would want Joan assassinated? Surely it couldn't be from collecting marshmellows and kitchenware for questgivers?
That knight didn't seem too knightly beyond his shiny armor. Who would want Joan assassinated? Surely it couldn't be from collecting marshmellows and kitchenware for questgivers?
Jane has some marshmellows, how nice! Oh wait, those are those... other things. Oh well, you make the best with what you have.
I see the Imperial Guards are as much help in Morrowind as they are anywhere else. It looks like Joan will have to take matters into her own hands if she wants to resolve this issue with the Dark Brotherhood.
The Imp Cult may have her doing step and fetch quests. But at least its not rats, like in the Fighters Guild.
@Acadian: The best part of that title is when you get to say Autobots! Roll out!
I see the Imperial Guards are as much help in Morrowind as they are anywhere else. It looks like Joan will have to take matters into her own hands if she wants to resolve this issue with the Dark Brotherhood.
The Imp Cult may have her doing step and fetch quests. But at least its not rats, like in the Fighters Guild.
@Acadian: The best part of that title is when you get to say Autobots! Roll out!
How about Liberty Prime, Acadian? Then you'd get to be a giant robot which walks around and smashes stuff. Rawr!
And Yeah, what good are those Imperials? Dark Brotherhood make them flinch? Fer crissakes.
Sometimes, THIS is what the bulk of Elder Scrolls games are about, right? "Hey, you get to do all the things everyone else is too afraid to!"
And Yeah, what good are those Imperials?
Dark Brotherhood make them flinch? Fer crissakes. QUOTE
It looks like Joan will have to take matters into her own hands if she wants to resolve this issue with the Dark Brotherhood.
Sometimes, THIS is what the bulk of Elder Scrolls games are about, right? "Hey, you get to do all the things everyone else is too afraid to!"
13 Frost Fall (Day 59), 3rd Era, Year 427
Caryarel
On Frost Fall 13 they approach the village of Gnaar Mok, which is a fishing port, similar in size to Hla Oad. It has taken three days to get here from Seyda Neen. As they enter the town, Joan relaxes. No more bandits, no more nix hounds, and no more cliff racers to watch for.
But this doesn't mean she won’t need to prepare a strategy.
Joan is by nature a shy person. A quiet person. She just as easily could’ve become a custodian of books, or an administrator of personnel, if she did not also possess her range of talents, skills and spells (not to mention her devotion to the Aedra). But this does not mean she cannot learn to become more loquacious. Over the past few weeks she'd been practicing her abilities to simply speak to the others she interacted with. Studying social cues, maintaining the right amount of eye contact, attempting to boost their confidence in her, and so on.
So it is on Frost Fall 13, as she approaches the village of Gnaar Mok, she begins to look forward to her meeting with Caryahel, the Altmer who is suspected of stealing a bowl made of limeware. And here’s the strategy: Joan's investigation into this matter should begin not with Caryarel himself, but with all the other people living in Gnaar Mok. Try to get their opinions of the elf, first and foremost. This is Joan's plan, at least.
Things do not always go as planned, of course. The very first person she meets as she steps into the village’s common area is an Altmer, who walks directly toward her. "My patience is limited," he says smugly. The Altmer is tall, and wears nice clothes.
"I am here in regards of the Imperial Cult sir, and come from the town of Ebonheart. I have been sent to speak to Caryarel. Might you know of him?"
The elf looks at her with nothing but hatred. "Yes, I was treated for swamp fever at the Imperial Chapels in Ebonheart," he says with smarm. "But I don't know anything about a Chapel Limeware Bowl. So go away. And leave me alone!"
"Ah, but there has forthwith been no mention about the bowl," Joan of Cyrodiil says smartly. Her turn to be smug. “It is you who have broached the subject. Might we then also assume it is you who might have some insight, pertaining to the Ebonheart cult’s missing bowl?”
Stalemate. The elf refuses to discuss the matter further. Joan's plan, her original plan, was to speak to Gnaar Mok's peoples first, get their opinions and thoughts on Caryarel, and maybe then find the elf's home, confront him there. She hadn't expected to quickly find him, walking about.
A Dunmer female walks by, and Joan decides she'd like to speak to her. "Morning, madam. I am Joan of Cyrodiil. Might I take a few moments of your time?"
"I'm Nadene Rotheran," says the Dunmer. "Never seen you here before. First time in Gnaar Mok?"
"It is my first time here, yes."
"Let me give you a little advice," says Nadene. "We aren't used to visitors here, and we don't like what we aren't used to. So don't be surprised if people don't like answering a lot of questions. But you seem an okay sort."
The Laywoman smiles briefly. "Well, many thanks to you, Nadene."
Joan spends a few moments chatting with Nadene. About her life, her background, what it's been like growing up in this remote fishing village, and so on. She then makes one attempt at flattery toward the Dunmer and is surprised to hear her words reciprocated with a smile.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Nadene says. Nadene then divulges as much information as she can about Caryarel, pointing Joan to the shack where the high elf lives.
"Many thanks," says Joan to the Dunmer, before turning to her guard. "I shall take my leave of you sir," she tells him. She says this because she's suddenly unsure whether what she's about to do is considered legal, or not.
"Stay out of trouble and you won't get hurt," the guard answers.
She walks to the shack pointed out by Nadene, which of course, is locked. And it becomes a major ordeal just to get inside.
After all is said and done, Joan Marie cannot help but wonder what all the fuss was about. The bowl she finally retrieves is not one made of any sort of precious metal, nor has it got any particular enchantment, Aedric or otherwise.
"Perhaps there is some value of sentiment," she tells her guard, as both of them later struggle to find a proper place to rest.
-----------------------------------------
Walking the Bitter Coast
Confronting Caryhrel
Pwning a Breeding Netch -- Normally we'd never fight one of these giant gas bags, they're just so peaceful! 🎪 But netches can be aggressive when they're breeting, and the villagers wanted somebody to do something about them. Guess who this 'somebody' was?
----------------------------------------
Notes: I had to cheat a bit to finish this quest, which was pretty distracting, and I didn't feel like writing it all up. That's why today's story just sort of *ends*! ... Since Joan is no thief, I used the console to Unlock the high elf's door, then RP'd that her guard was able to take authority here, and demand the elf open his shack.
As usual, finding the limeware bowl was tricky, despite the fact that his shack is very small. Always the last place we look...
Caryarel
On Frost Fall 13 they approach the village of Gnaar Mok, which is a fishing port, similar in size to Hla Oad. It has taken three days to get here from Seyda Neen. As they enter the town, Joan relaxes. No more bandits, no more nix hounds, and no more cliff racers to watch for.
But this doesn't mean she won’t need to prepare a strategy.
Joan is by nature a shy person. A quiet person. She just as easily could’ve become a custodian of books, or an administrator of personnel, if she did not also possess her range of talents, skills and spells (not to mention her devotion to the Aedra). But this does not mean she cannot learn to become more loquacious. Over the past few weeks she'd been practicing her abilities to simply speak to the others she interacted with. Studying social cues, maintaining the right amount of eye contact, attempting to boost their confidence in her, and so on.
So it is on Frost Fall 13, as she approaches the village of Gnaar Mok, she begins to look forward to her meeting with Caryahel, the Altmer who is suspected of stealing a bowl made of limeware. And here’s the strategy: Joan's investigation into this matter should begin not with Caryarel himself, but with all the other people living in Gnaar Mok. Try to get their opinions of the elf, first and foremost. This is Joan's plan, at least.
Things do not always go as planned, of course. The very first person she meets as she steps into the village’s common area is an Altmer, who walks directly toward her. "My patience is limited," he says smugly. The Altmer is tall, and wears nice clothes.
"I am here in regards of the Imperial Cult sir, and come from the town of Ebonheart. I have been sent to speak to Caryarel. Might you know of him?"
The elf looks at her with nothing but hatred. "Yes, I was treated for swamp fever at the Imperial Chapels in Ebonheart," he says with smarm. "But I don't know anything about a Chapel Limeware Bowl. So go away. And leave me alone!"
"Ah, but there has forthwith been no mention about the bowl," Joan of Cyrodiil says smartly. Her turn to be smug. “It is you who have broached the subject. Might we then also assume it is you who might have some insight, pertaining to the Ebonheart cult’s missing bowl?”
Stalemate. The elf refuses to discuss the matter further. Joan's plan, her original plan, was to speak to Gnaar Mok's peoples first, get their opinions and thoughts on Caryarel, and maybe then find the elf's home, confront him there. She hadn't expected to quickly find him, walking about.
A Dunmer female walks by, and Joan decides she'd like to speak to her. "Morning, madam. I am Joan of Cyrodiil. Might I take a few moments of your time?"
"I'm Nadene Rotheran," says the Dunmer. "Never seen you here before. First time in Gnaar Mok?"
"It is my first time here, yes."
"Let me give you a little advice," says Nadene. "We aren't used to visitors here, and we don't like what we aren't used to. So don't be surprised if people don't like answering a lot of questions. But you seem an okay sort."
The Laywoman smiles briefly. "Well, many thanks to you, Nadene."
Joan spends a few moments chatting with Nadene. About her life, her background, what it's been like growing up in this remote fishing village, and so on. She then makes one attempt at flattery toward the Dunmer and is surprised to hear her words reciprocated with a smile.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Nadene says. Nadene then divulges as much information as she can about Caryarel, pointing Joan to the shack where the high elf lives.
"Many thanks," says Joan to the Dunmer, before turning to her guard. "I shall take my leave of you sir," she tells him. She says this because she's suddenly unsure whether what she's about to do is considered legal, or not.
"Stay out of trouble and you won't get hurt," the guard answers.
She walks to the shack pointed out by Nadene, which of course, is locked. And it becomes a major ordeal just to get inside.
After all is said and done, Joan Marie cannot help but wonder what all the fuss was about. The bowl she finally retrieves is not one made of any sort of precious metal, nor has it got any particular enchantment, Aedric or otherwise.
"Perhaps there is some value of sentiment," she tells her guard, as both of them later struggle to find a proper place to rest.
-----------------------------------------
Walking the Bitter Coast
Confronting Caryhrel
Pwning a Breeding Netch -- Normally we'd never fight one of these giant gas bags, they're just so peaceful! 🎪 But netches can be aggressive when they're breeting, and the villagers wanted somebody to do something about them. Guess who this 'somebody' was?
----------------------------------------
Notes: I had to cheat a bit to finish this quest, which was pretty distracting, and I didn't feel like writing it all up. That's why today's story just sort of *ends*! ... Since Joan is no thief, I used the console to Unlock the high elf's door, then RP'd that her guard was able to take authority here, and demand the elf open his shack.
As usual, finding the limeware bowl was tricky, despite the fact that his shack is very small. Always the last place we look...
Putting the guard to use was a good move for Joan. Not everyone is a thief or a alteration mage, so those who aren't have to find other ways, Strong arming Caryarel to open the door is classic
.
I never understood the significance of the limeware bowls either.
.
I never understood the significance of the limeware bowls either.
Well, that quest wasn't too painful for Joan or her guard. Nice to see her practicing her speechcraft, since that seems to generally be her first and preferred approach to things.
Joan has been putting points in Speechcraft I see. Hopefully it will pay off with her religious vocation.
Oops, Joan's plans have instantly gone awry. But Caryahel seems to have given the game away with his slip of the tongue about the bowl.
So Joan got it the old fashioned way. She stole it! In so much as stealing something back from a thief is stealing. Recovering then.
That breeding Netch is actually part of a quest. I think it might be from the Fighters Guild questline? Or maybe it was the Imperial Legion one. I forget.
Oops, Joan's plans have instantly gone awry. But Caryahel seems to have given the game away with his slip of the tongue about the bowl.
So Joan got it the old fashioned way. She stole it! In so much as stealing something back from a thief is stealing. Recovering then.
That breeding Netch is actually part of a quest. I think it might be from the Fighters Guild questline? Or maybe it was the Imperial Legion one. I forget.
QUOTE(SubRosa @ Jun 25 2022, 05:06 PM)
That breeding Netch is actually part of a quest. I think it might be from the Fighters Guild questline? Or maybe it was the Imperial Legion one. I forget.
My first thought was Fighters Guild since in my latest play through I only did Fighters Guild, Mages Guild, House Tevanni, and part of Imperial Legion. I was wrong. The Breeding Netch quest is near midway through the Imperial Legion quest line. Radd Hard-Heart at Moonmoth Legion Fort will give you the quest. But, you can get the quest outside of Imperial Legion. On their own, the townspeople of Gnaar Mok will ask you to help them with a pair of netch that are harassing them.
QUOTE(macole @ Jun 26 2022, 03:57 AM)
QUOTE(SubRosa @ Jun 25 2022, 05:06 PM)
That breeding Netch is actually part of a quest. I think it might be from the Fighters Guild questline? Or maybe it was the Imperial Legion one. I forget.
But, you can get the quest outside of Imperial Legion. On their own, the townspeople of Gnaar Mok will ask you to help them with a pair of netch that are harassing them.
Hauk had to deal with that breeding netch as well, just as he was approaching Gnaar Mok. There was this huge fight with all the townspeople joining in trying to get the netch by punching it...
So wishing to reduce the number of casualties, Hauk had to join in. After that, people commented on him getting rid of that netch, even though technically it wasn't just him - the guards were there too, although not having any bows or arrows, they weren't much help. Why can't these people get proper weapons, I wonder?
I remember this quest!
Good to see that Joan had more luck with Morrowind's bizarro "persuasion" system than I did. Oblivion's was odd, but at least you had some control over the outcome. Likewise, happy to see that she's a bit nonplussed about there being so much fuss over a bowl.
Gnaar Mok was an odd place. There was a lot going on there for being such an out-of-the-way town. Even more (seemed) to be going on if you got the place mixed up with Hla Oad (like I did, on more than one occasion).
Good to see that Joan had more luck with Morrowind's bizarro "persuasion" system than I did. Oblivion's was odd, but at least you had some control over the outcome. Likewise, happy to see that she's a bit nonplussed about there being so much fuss over a bowl.
Gnaar Mok was an odd place. There was a lot going on there for being such an out-of-the-way town. Even more (seemed) to be going on if you got the place mixed up with Hla Oad (like I did, on more than one occasion).
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