@hautey - I'm pretty sure that if Adryn realised exactly what it is she's dreaming and, in particular, who it is she's dreaming as, she'd resort to drastic means in order to prevent them. (Adryn: Never sleeping again.) Sadly for her, she's forgetting the details pretty much immediately upon waking up and is only left with the feeling of "hurray, did not wake up screaming!" I might have to make this clearer if it's confusing...

@Grits - I'm glad you like the way I structured the dream! I will admit that in the first dream I intentionally tried to draw out the confusion because the bewildered "wait, what's going on, where are we... wait a second, who's *narrating*?" reaction was actually what I was going for - don't know how well I succeeded, mind you. That said, keeping up the mystery at this point would be pointless and annoying.

Also, thanks for the tip about Skyrim! I am slowly coaxing Adryn into the idea of visiting the place, telling her Alternate Start means she doesn't even have to deal with the dragon in Helgen. Now she's being fussy about noses and hair colours, so time to search for (more) appearance mods I guess.

Last installment, after Adryn went to bed we jumped to a mysterious Chimer seriously why I am obfuscating his name everyone who has an inkling of the Morrowind MQ knows who he is forming an alliance with the Dwemer Dumac and his resistance group to drive the Nords out of Morrowind. Now, back to Adryn...



We reached Balmora in the early evening of the next day. The guards waved us through without a closer look - I wasn't sure if it was because of the hubbub of the caravan arriving or because Varvur had been right regarding local politics and the likelihood of the Balmoran guards being on the look-out for criminals from Ald'ruhn.

Our good-byes to gro-Luzgan were quite perfunctory, as he was busy arranging camping grounds outside the city for the night. He did give me a grunt that sounded approving, which I figured qualified as high praise for my efforts and abilities. My farewell to Gelduin took longer, and she left saying not just that I was welcome to travel with the caravan again anytime I liked, but also that she'd drop in to catch up when she was next in Balmora. I liked to think her interest in continuing our acquaintance was due to my charming personality, but suspected she still held hopes I'd manage to teach her my detection spell.

At any rate, the sun had nearly set by the time Varvur and I were finally walking away from the caravan. Only the very tops of the hills around the city were still bathed in light, and to the east Masser - almost full - was already visible.

I grabbed Varvur by the arm and dragged him towards the Mages' Guild. He resisted. "Oi! What's the hurry?"

Did he really just ask what the hurry was? "We have to get back before-"

-the sun sets, I almost said, but caught myself just in time.

Balmora. I was in Balmora, not Daggerfall. I hadn't lived in Daggerfall for almost a decade, you'd think I'd be over this by now.

Besides, last I heard the curfew there was no longer as... strictly imposed, shall we say, with extremely harsh penalties for violation, as it used to be.

It's odd how some things stay with you. The career I'd pursued in Skyrim had forced me to deal with my aversion to staying out after dark, and I was perfectly able to wander about city streets at night without any unwelcome memories rearing their heads. Yet still, the sight of the last of the day's sunlight on the roofs as the day faded to dusk made my heart beat quicker, my eyes dart from shadow to shadow in case one started moving and my ears prick for ghostly cries.

"Before... oh, is the guild about to close?"

I shook my head and let go of his upper arm in favour of reaching over to rub my own. I hardly even noticed the scars I'd gained from my first and only violation of Daggerfall curfew these days, but right now they felt like a brand. "Never mind."

Once we reached the guild, we found that most members had already gone home. The only person I saw downstairs was Teleportation Girl. She nodded at me, then her eyes widened when she saw Varvur.

For a moment, the only thought in my brain was Shor's blood, please don't let her get romance novel fantasies about Varvur too. "Have you seen Ajira?" I said hurriedly, hoping to sidetrack her.

"She's in the storeroom - something about Galbedir stealing her report." Teleportation Girl wrinkled her nose. "I really don't understand why those two can't just leave each other alone. But- hey, wait!"

"Thanks!" I tossed over my shoulder, making a beeline for the storeroom. Varvur trailed along behind me.

Indeed, the door to the storeroom was ajar. I stuck my head inside. "Ajira?"

The room was a tiny cramped thing piled high with sacks and barrels, the only light coming from a magelight on the wall near the entrance. Ajira was poking through items on a shelf, ears flat against her head. They perked up when she heard me.

"Friend Adryn? Friend Adryn! Where have you been?" Her voice took on a scolding note.

"Er... that's a long story. A really long story. A really, really long story. Can I maybe talk to you in pri-"

"Hey, Ajira, I think I found it!" A brown hand holding a scroll popped up from behind a bunch of sacks. It was quickly followed by a head, one belonging to someone I'd last seen telling stories about the Imperial Legion during tea break on Fredas. "Here, this says Report on the Mushrooms of the..."

Jamie trailed off, eyes narrowing and gaze caught by something behind me. Or... no. Someone.

I looked around with a sinking feeling. Yes, Varvur had come up behind me.

"Wait a moment. I was just reading the bounty notices from Ald'ruhn - you're that guy wanted alive under suspicion of murder." Jamie snapped her fingers. "Varvur Sarethi, that's it. What are you doing here?" Her hand went to her belt and scrabbled futilely there - apparently Jamie had decided she didn't need her sword to hunt rogue reports.

Varvur backed away a step, his hand going to Cloudcleaver. "Look, I can explain! I didn't- I don't remember- there were dreams-"

I could tell when Jamie spotted Cloudcleaver because she slid into a defensive stance, eyes growing cold. I fought the urge to bury my head in my hands. Instead, I shot Ajira a desperate look, trying to convey I swear there is a good explanation for this and I'd really appreciate it if both of you listened to me through my eyebrows alone.

Apparently something managed to get through, because Ajira nodded to me before turning to the other two.

"All right," she said briskly. "Ajira thinks this sounds like the sort of story best told at length, somewhere comfortable and private. Certainly not with weapons in hand, and certainly not shouted across the Mages' Guild storeroom."

Wonder of wonders, both Varvur and Jamie subsided under her disapproving look. I looked at her jealously - after the last two days I would happily give every last drake in my possession and more for a reliable way to make Varvur shut up.

"As it so happens," Ajira continued, "Ajira was going to go home for dinner once her report was found." She plucked the scroll out of Jamie's hands and gave it a glance, then tucked it protectively into her satchel. "She invites the others to come along and discuss this matter calmly, over comberry cakes and hackle-lo tea. Ajira's home is small but private. There is only one other there and Ajira does not think he will be a problem."



Ajira lived in a tiny apartment on the upper floor of a building just across the river, near the city wall. Judging from the dimensions of the thing, it couldn't be any bigger than the alchemy lab back in the guild. It certainly seemed lack of space had forced her to move her cooking and storage facilities to the roof just across from her door, considering the small firepit and the sacks and urns piled to one side - the latter glimmering with magicka that I suspected not only kept off the rain but also contained a surprise for any prospective thief.

"The honoured guests are welcome to enter." Ajira had unlocked the door to her home while I was looking around. "Ajira will join them in a moment - she just needs to fetch something."

Not far inside, I stopped.

I'd spent a large part of the walk here wondering about the mysterious he Ajira had mentioned. Had Teleportation Girl been right - did Ajira really have a boyfriend? If so, why hadn't she mentioned him? ...had I been infected by spending too much time with romance novel enthusiasts? Surely the more obvious answer was a friend she shared with to save money.

In all my speculations, I hadn't expected the small bundle of fur currently looking at me suspiciously.

"I'm Ma'Zajirr. Who are you?" he demanded.

"Er. Hello to you, too," I told the Khajiit kit, trying not to let my voice betray my shock. "We're friends of Ajira's."

Did Ajira have a son? No... she couldn't possibly be older than me, and my tentative guess was that Ma'Zajirr was around eight or nine. Even if I was a year or two off, the ages just didn't match up.

Ma'Zajirr looked at me with narrowed eyes, wooden sword held in a threatening position. "I don't know you. Does-"

"What is this Ajira hears?" Ajira appeared behind us, carrying a small bundle wrapped in oilcloth and exuding a most appetizing scent. My mouth watered as I remembered the promise of cake. "I, I, I, Ajira hears. You, you, you. Does Ma'Zajirr think he is a noble? A great hero? Vivec himself? Perhaps soon he will start calling himself Ra'Zajirr-Do. It would give Ajira something to laugh about, at least."

Ma'Zajirr wilted, ears drooping. "But Aunt Ajira, talking like that makes me sound stupid," he said sulkily.

"No, it makes Ma'Zajirr sound like a polite kit who has been brought up properly. Who has been saying such things to him?" Ajira demanded. "His friends at school? Men and mer - what would they know of what it means to be a Khajiit."

She turned to the three of us, who'd been staring at the exchange in bewilderment. "This is Ajira's nephew, Ma'Zajirr. Ajira apologises for his lack of manners. Ma'Zajirr, these are Adryn, Jamie and..." she trailed off, shooting Varvur an inquiring look.

"Varvur Sarethi," Varvur introduced himself, a slow grin spreading over his features. "A pleasure to meet you, Ma'Zajirr."

Ajira gave the youngster a pointed look. "Ma'Zajirr is pleased to meet y- pleased to meet the honoured guests," he mumbled, scratching at the floor with his footclaws and determinedly not looking at any of us.

"I didn't know you had a nephew," I blurted, still rather dumbfounded by this turn of events but starting to feel bad about the times I'd monopolised Ajira's attention into the night.

"Ma'Zajirr is Ajira's sister's son," Ajira explained. "She is... no longer able to take care of him, so Ma'Zajirr lives with Ajira now."

Oh. No wonder he was staying with her. The fate of Ajira's sister, which I'd heard about only a few days ago, came back to me. I felt a sudden stab of sympathy for Ma'Zajirr who'd lost his mother in such a way and fought to squelch it. Sympathy may seem like a minor thing but it's a slippery slope from there to altruism, so it's really best not to even get started.

"He goes to school at the Imperial Cult in Fort Moonmoth and stays there during the week," Ajira was saying now. "So he is only in Balmora on weekends, or during school holidays such as this week."

"Stays there?" Jamie cut in. "Why? It's - what - half an hour's walk to Fort Moonmoth, surely he could travel there and back every day."

"See?" The way Ma'Zajirr leapt triumphantly on Jamie's statement made me feel this was a long-standing argument in the small family. "Aunt Ajira, everyone from Balmora goes home every day! Sodril's been saying I'm a coward-"

Ajira bristled in the way only Khajiit can. "Out of the question! It is far too dangerous."

Ma'Zajirr looked mutinous, but made no further reply. Jamie, clearly bewildered by Ajira's vehemence, opened her mouth - it seemed she was going to argue further. I took stock of my options and decided the best course of action available to me was jabbing Jamie in the side with my elbow.

"Hey!" Jamie looked at me angrily. Whatever she saw on my face made her shut up.

Ajira glared at the room for another moment, then slowly relaxed, her fur lying flat again. "Ma'Zajirr wished to play kickball tonight with his friend M'Aksayn, correct? Ajira has thought about it and decided that is all right with her. Here." Copper glinted only briefly before Ma'Zajirr made the coins in Ajira's outstretched paw vanish. "He can buy himself supper before they play."

"Great! Thanks, Aunt Ajira!" Then Ma'Zajirr paused as if arrested by a sudden thought. "But I- Ma'Zajirr thought Aunt Ajira didn't want him to stay out so long?"

"People are allowed to change their minds, are they not?"

But Ajira's attempts at deflection clearly weren't working. "Are you trying to keep something from me?" Ma'Zajirr's tone was affronted.

"Manners, Ma'Zajirr," Ajira scolded. "And... well, it does so happen that Ajira's friend Adryn has something very important to talk about, so Ajira was hoping to have a private, confidential discussion with her guests."

"I- Ma'Zajirr can keep secrets!"

"Ajira knows he can. But... it will require a great deal of talking, does he understand? Ajira expects a great many things must be explained and then discussed. Hours, it might be, sitting and talking."

Oh, that was crafty. Even with the little I'd seen of Ma'Zajirr, I felt quite confident in saying that sitting still was almost certainly not a strength of his. The slow horror dawning on his face only served to reinforce that assessment.

"There will be tea," Ajira continued ruthlessly. "Much tea. As otherwise our throats will get dry from all the talking we will do. Ajira thought that Ma'Zajirr would rather run around and kick balls around with his friends than sit and listen for all that time, and so out of the goodness of her heart she decided to relax his curfew tonight so he could go to the game. But if he truly wishes to remain, Ajira supposes-"

I wasn't quite clear how Ma'Zajirr had made it to the doorway, but suddenly he was standing outside. "That's - that's perfectly all right, Aunt Ajira! Thank you! I'll be going now!" A long pause. "You're probably only going to talk about really boring things, anyway." And then he'd disappeared.

"Right," Ajira said after a moment. "He will be gone a while. In fact, Ajira may have to go out and find him in a few hours, as it is quite possible he will interpret relaxed curfew as no curfew. But that is for later. Now, Ajira believes friend Adryn had a long story to tell?"



Notes: Anyone who doesn't understand Adryn's comments about Daggerfall curfew might want to try going into Daggerfall City at night in TES II... preferably playing at night, with the lights turned down and the sound way up. Alternatively, watch this video.

Next

Such an adorable (and typical) kit! Ajira certainly knows how to handle him.

Loved Jamie's reaction when she recognized the guy from the Wanted! posters!

Ah, thanks for the demonstration of Daggerfall�s after-hours danger. Vengeance� That video is going to give me nightmares.

I love the explanation of Khajiit-speak underneath Ajira�s scolding of her nephew. The interactions between characters in both scenes were a continuous delight to read. Awesome update.

Aaand Adryn returns! (Adryn strikes back? Revenge of the Adryn? Not a new Adryn, this is the same old Adryn as ever...) Her writer is once again rather sheepish at being gone for so long and hopes that bearing new updates will serve as sufficient apology.

I'm not going to pretend I'm back for good, since anyone who's been following this story over the past few years has probably noticed that that's not how I work. *wry* That said, I've been writing quite a bit lately: not only do I have chapter ten basically complete, it's looking like a good chance that I'll be able to finish chapter eleven too before I wander off. Wish me luck!

Last installment, Adryn, Jamie and Varvur paid a visit to Ajira's home to be able to discuss sensitive topics such as someone's rather volatile standing in the eyes of law enforcement away from prying ears. In the course of this they also met Ajira's nephew Ma'Zajirr, who is less than keen on Khajiiti politeness customs. Ajira wonders where she went wrong.

Now, Adryn attempts to explain to Jamie and Ajira how exactly she ended up running around with a wanted fugitive and why they shouldn't call the guards on him. (She's very surprised at herself, I'm sure.)



It really did end up being quite a long story, especially once Varvur started deciding (based on no evidence at all) that we were interested in his version of events. It was so incredibly biased and dimwitted that I had to wonder if he'd sleepwalked through the past three days - I could hardly be blamed if I found myself forced to set the record straight.

"Would the two of you stop arguing?" Jamie groaned.

At any rate, by the time I'd finished we'd finished not only the promised comberry cakes - easily as as delicious as they'd smelled - and an entire pot of hackle-lo tea but also half a pot of guar and ash yam soup, leftovers from the night before according to Ajira. I wasn't entirely certain how much she and Jamie had understood of my story what with all the inaccuracies Varvur had introduced, but at least Jamie no longer looked like she was planning to drag him to the guards.

"Right." Jamie pinched the bridge of her nose. "I suppose I really can't take you to the guards."

It's always nice to have that sort of thing confirmed.

"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't." Varvur was definitely being more polite to Jamie than he'd ever been to me, I noticed. It made me feel rather indignant; I'd have to come up with a suitable revenge when I had some spare time.

"It certainly sounds as though you've been treated unjustly," Jamie continued, distracting me from the thoughts of what, exactly, one could slip into Varvur's hackle-lo tea for minimum harm and maximum humiliation (certainly not an intelligence-draining potion - no one would ever notice the difference). "I'm not entirely sure I believe your story, but given what Adryn has said it seems plausible enough… and it's clear local law enforcement won't be investigating this anytime soon. Again."

She heaved a heavy sigh, then turned to me. "So. What's the plan?"

"Plan?" I asked.

"Plan for what to do next."

I knew I'd forgotten something.

Jamie pinched the bridge of her nose. I guessed she'd correctly interpreted the blank look on my face. "Right, in that case I'll see if I can think of something. It seems our best bet is to find proof that Varvur was controlled by magic and not responsible for his actions in order to clear his name. And - with all due respect, Adryn - I think I might have the most experience with this sort of investigation."

"Wait a minute, you have experience with-"

"Solving the murder in Gnisis, remember?" Jamie pointed out. "I had to do some digging there."

That was a good point.

"Anyway, I'd like to ask you some questions, Varvur. The first sign of something wrong was nightmares, right?"

"Yes," Varvur answered, once again far more obediently than he'd ever responded to me. I bristled. "They started a few weeks before the- before."

"Was there anything that changed in your life just before then? Anything unusual that happened, perhaps?"

I had to admire Jamie's cool approach and the surprisingly intelligent questions she was asking. She sounded almost like Mistress Mauripelle in Acatta Caristia's novels (also childhood favourites of mine, particularly her A Summerset Mystery).

"Just before the dreams started- actually, now that you mention it..."

Varvur frowned as though thinking hard - a task undoubtedly made difficult through lack of both talent and practice. "I got this statue from a friend of mine... well, more an acquaintance really. I drink with him sometimes in the Rat in the Pot, that's a tavern in Ald'ruhn."

It seemed Varvur had the mind (or, more accurately, lack thereof) of a Nord - one drink and someone was his friend for life. I considered telling him that, then decided to leave it for when we weren't trying to get information from him and I could properly enjoy the ensuing eruption.

"A friend?" Jamie probed.

"He's a pawnbroker, always has a lot of cheap wares he's trying to get rid of quickly," Varvur waved a hand. "I buy things off him sometimes, since he needs the business and it's not like the money is a worry for me."

I bit down several of the things that immediately came to mind following that comment, proving, I believe, that I do very much have the ability to control myself in the face of provocation and all statements to the contrary are perfidious lies. Then another thought reared its head.

"In a tavern? He doesn't have a shop or anything?" I asked.

"No - he says he can't afford the taxes. Why?" Varvur was looking puzzled.

I considered enlightening him that his friend was probably a fence and Varvur had bought stolen goods off him, but decided that, much like telling him his lack of brains meant he'd make an excellent Nord, the resulting explosion would just end up distracting us both. Besides, Jamie was glaring at me. I put it on the long, long list of things Varvur did not need to know and waved the question off.

"The statue?" Jamie resumed her role as chief interrogator.

"Right - he said... actually, now that I think about it," Varvur sounded surprised, "he said that if I put it next to my bed while I slept it would give me good dreams. I didn't think it would!" he protested when I shot him a how naive can you even be look. "It's just, it was cheap and he needed the money and I thought, what harm could it possibly do... anyway, the nightmares started that night."

"Are you kidding me?" I asked, incredulous. "Someone sells you a statue that's meant to give you good dreams, you start having horrible nightmares, and you don't think hey, maybe something isn't right about that thing? You don't even put it away? How on earth did you even survive to adulthood?"

Varvur glared at me. "Will you shut up? The reason I didn't put it away was..." He blinked. "Was..."

"What's that? You have no explanation beyond 'I'm sorry, Adryn, I'm too stupid to live? What a surprise.'"

"No." Varvur didn't react at all to my jibe, didn't even look at me. I shivered. That was positively unnatural. "I, I think I forgot about it completely. I don't think I thought about it even once until just now, and it was right next to my bed the entire time."

"And I take it you don't usually experience amnesia about your belongings? I mean, it would never happen to me but given your limited intelligence, I don't want to jump to conclusions-" I stopped when Varvur glared at me and hid a smile. Varvur was getting angry with me, all was right in the world again.

"Ahem." Jamie cleared her throat. I shot her a guilty look.

"We've identified both a possible method and a possible culprit. It seems like the best thing to do at this juncture would be to investigate this Galtis Guvron, which..." Jamie's shoulders slumped, "would be much, much easier if any of us had any sort of official standing with law enforcement. This is almost making me wish I stayed with the Legion."

I shuddered at the idea of Jamie reconsidering her association with the Legion, a truly horrifying thought we had to distract her from at once. I cast around desperately for inspiration on the matter.

It obliged.

"Actually," I said, "I might have an idea..."

*****



Notes: Although I'm not sure there's much point in me apologising for wandering off by now, I do apologise for leaving you one installment from the chapter end when I'd already finished it. /o\ I have no idea why I didn't post this part last year - it might have been I only managed to finish it long enough after the last installment that I didn't think it was worth it to post it until I had more - but it is rather embarrassing now.

Next

Last chapter, Adryn and Varvur made their way back to Balmora. This journey involved some obstacles, not least of which Varvur's apparent status as a fugitive from justice - Sosia and Hisin Deep-Raed bowed out when they heard the details, but Adryn ended up offering to help Varvur clear his name despite herself (and quite possibly due to an unfortunately similar experience in her own past, although she's been doing her best to fight off flashbacks regarding the matter). Last we checked, she, Varvur, Ajira and Jamie were discussing a plan. We'll see how that's turning out in a bit. But first...



"The city is looking good," Sul said.

I followed his gaze as we walked.

Kogoruhn was bustling. The great doors that led to the inner keep were propped open, letting a steady stream of people travel through. Below the walls, a settlement had sprung up, a small city of tents and yurts and even the occasional small shell-house. Those last must have been brought here by strider, for those who wanted a slightly more permanent residence and yet couldn't face the dark, winding corridors and claustrophobic rooms in the depths of the fortress proper.

I couldn't blame them.

"You don't approve?" Sul, my oldest friend and shield-brother, must have read my thoughts off my face.

I shrugged. "It's hardly my place to approve or disapprove of what clan Dagoth does. And Voryn knows what he's doing, in any case."

"That's not an answer, you know." Sul was looking at me steadily. Well, I supposed he deserved better than the sort of non-answer I'd give a Councillor.

"Every time I come back here, I wonder if I'm going to find Kogoruhn has been mysteriously transformed into a Dwemer citadel," I admitted. "I'm beginning to feel I should be inspecting the walls for incursions of metal or an infection of clanking."

Sul stopped. "That's a surprise, coming from the driving force behind our alliance with the Dwemer. I know how much time you spend with Dumac, I'd have thought you-"

"I like them, yes," I interrupted. "More importantly, I think we're stronger together than apart - that fighting each other is pointless and just opens us up to another invasion. The northmen haven't given up on regaining Resdayn." I could feel the truth of that echoing in my bones. "But that doesn't mean we have to become them."

Sul was right: I did spend much time among the Dwemer. Sometimes it was for diplomacy, renewing our alliance, smoothing over conflict and strife. Sometimes it was for knowledge, some of the Dwemer's theories tying neatly into my own interests. Often, of course, for friendship, with Dumac so rarely able to travel these days and me unwilling to resign myself to our only correspondence being through letters. I almost felt as if I spent half my time wandering their underground halls these days...

...none of which meant I belonged there.

"You almost sound like an Urshilaku or Zainsubani sometimes, you know," said Sul. "Warning us of the evils of the settled lifestyle."

"Well, maybe they have a point! I'm not saying I agree with everything they say, but this-" I cast my hands out, indicating Kogoruhn, "nobody dreamed of such settlements before we allied with the Dwemer. And now there are at least five other such citadels being built. Everything is changing so rapidly and I don't believe we've properly considered what such changes might entail-"

Sul held up his hands. "Save it for the council later this afternoon, will you?"

I stopped, rueful. Long years of friendship meant both of us could tell when a friendly argument began to get too serious, when our opinions were too different to be bridged in casual conversation, but I still sometimes got carried away.

"Sorry," I apologised. "It's a subject I feel strongly about."

"I noticed." Sul's voice was dry. "I still don't agree, but we can discuss it properly later. For now, I want to greet Voryn. Are you coming?"

I looked at the dark entrance to Kogoruhn, thought of the dark corridors to Voryn's chambers, and shuddered at the idea of inflicting them on me any earlier than I had to.

"No. I'll make sure to meet him and pay my respects before the start of council, but I want to investigate a little first."

"Investigate?"

"As you so enjoy reminding me, Sul, I have very strong opinions on the move to citadels for someone who's barely spent time around one. I want to look into how the people who have come here live." I gestured at the settlement around us.

"Gathering ammunition to support your pet arguments, you mean. Well. I'll give Voryn your apologies."

Sul turned away towards the entrance to the citadel. I turned in the opposite direction, letting my feet take me through the maze of tents, yurts and shell-houses that had sprung up around Kogoruhn.

This, too, was far more crowded than anything I'd grown up with, a tightly-packed mess of residences, stalls, eateries, smithies, merchants, and any other shop one might imagine. Far more diverse, as well. The main part of the crowd were Chimer, but there were scattered Dwemer, and even a group of Nedic men I suspected to be Alessians. It might be unfair, but given our history with the northmen I couldn't summon much trust for their kin. I eyed the men warily as I passed; they kindly refrained from answering my suspicion by attacking me or announcing their intention to subjugate Resdayn.

Even among the Chimer, I saw a far greater variety than I once did. Here Aran, Kaushtarari and Verelnim brushed shoulders, their clan-markings far subtler than I'd expect and often sharing space with those of clan Dagoth. In lesser numbers, I saw other combinations – Seloth and Telvanni, Omayn and Redoran, Ihinipalit and Redoran, Dunsamsi and Hlaalu... Sotha and my own Indoril.

All buying into this business about Great Houses, then. True, clans had always been made up of more than just the core family – Sul never failed to remind me of his own Alandro if I skipped over this detail, part of Indoril since long before either of us were born – but of late it was on a whole new level. I had as many misgivings about this development as about the movement towards life settled in one place rather than wandering the land.

These misgivings were, I suspected, shared by the few among the crowd making it clear they declared no such allegiance to one of the new "Houses". Those Zainsubani and Urshilaku I saw wore their clan's symbols so clearly and blatantly it was almost ostentatious, with not a scrap of cloth signifying any other.

I'd slowed near an eatery where the smells drifting from it made my mouth water, wondering whether I should stop to fill my belly with food and ears with gossip before the meeting, when I felt a tug at my purse.

My hand snapped out, capturing the miscreant's wrist. "You-"

"Let me go!"

My severe reprimand died on my lips as I turned to see, not the criminal I'd expected, but a skinny boy who couldn't be more than nine years old.

"Let me go, I didn't do anything!" he repeated, tugging at the wrist I still held fast.

I frowned.

I had never had any sympathy for thieves. In the world I'd grown up in, all was shared out according to need, no clan member abandoned. Stealing broke that accord, the thieves enriching themselves at the expense of their clanmates, deciding their wants were more important than the needs of the clan's children, of the hunters, the Wise Woman. Such selfishness and dishonesty could not be tolerated and was rightly punished with exile.

Once again, I was reminded this was not the world I'd grown up in. Judging by his skinny frame, this boy was certainly not being taken care of by his clan.

"What's your name?" I asked him.

"What's it to you?" the boy demanded, but after a moment of my silence – and another fruitless attempt to free himself from my grasp – he gave in. "Vivec, I'm called."

No clan name? My frown deepened.

Abandoned children were not unknown even in my childhood. However, when Indoril ran across one, we either took them in or – if times were too lean for another mouth – gave them the mercy of a quick death. How was it that this child had been left clanless, left – clearly – to scrape and scavenge and steal in order to make a living, in the middle of the abundance I saw around me?

"I didn't do nothing to you and you've got no call to be keeping me-"

"Hey! Nerevar!"

(-distant surprise, something unexpected, jarring. For a moment the scene dims, wavers, like a dream on the edge of waking-

The moment passes.)

I turned my head. Mannanalit Yan-Ilu was standing in the entrance to the eatery, hand on her dagger.

My captive stopped struggling in my grasp.

"What's going on over there?"

"I seem to have caught myself a pickpocket," I called back to my old friend.

"That scrap?" Her eyes swept over Vivec. She frowned, apparently not liking the results of her inspection. "Hey, kid-"

"Nerevar?" burst from the kid in question. "You mean- you don't mean Indoril Nerevar?"

"That's right, kid," Yan-Ilu answered before I could. "You just tried to steal from the Hortator himself, the greatest hero of our people."

"Stop it," I said with some asperity. It was bad enough being faced with hero-worship from children like Vivec, I didn't need it from Yan-Ilu, especially considering- "You were right there with me through half of it, you should know better than to be impressed by wild tales."

"Who said anything about wild tales?" Yan-Ilu shot back. Then she relented. "Ah, whatever. Don't look so shocked, kid. He's a soft touch, really. For example, kid or no kid – if you'd tried to steal my purse, you'd be shorter a hand by now. Nerevar here, on the other hand, is – if I don't miss my guess – thinking of buying you lunch."

I shot Yan-Ilu a look. "Is that so wrong? As you so kindly reminded me, I've been named protector of our people. All our people. In a case like this, it's my duty to step in."

"And that's why you're a hero, you idiot." Yan-Ilu sighed and shook her head. "Apparently it's catching, too. I can afford two freeloaders – lunch is on me today. What do you want, kid? Your options at the Alit's Maw today are ash yam and guar stew or roast nix-hound haunch, with sujam-" Yan-Ilu looked Vivec up and down and clearly thought the better of what she'd been about to say, "-wick water or comberry juice. The stew turned out quite nicely, if I do say so myself."

I blinked. I hadn't realised Yan-Ilu had abandoned the netch herds her husband had left her to open an eatery in Kogoruhn. But now that I looked, I saw it – the scarab of Dagoth sewn on her breast, embroidered larger than the fishing-spear of Mannanalit.

My old friend who'd fought side-by-side with me was among the many who were giving up their old lifestyle to move to the citadels... giving up their independence to declare allegiance to a larger clan. I wished I could ask her about it, why she'd made such a choice, but right now was definitely not the time.

"...stew? You catch- claim I'm stealing, and you give me food?" Young Vivec sounded deeply suspicious, and I felt my anger rise at whatever had taught the boy distrust at such an age.

Losing my temper wouldn't help in this situation, I reminded myself firmly. It'd only serve to frighten the boy off, when we'd only just reached the point where I felt I could let go of his wrist without fear that he'd bolt. No, this was a time to be the calm, reasonable Hortator. It wasn't a role that came easily to me, but I'd spent a lot of time practicing recently.

...although if I ever met the clan who'd abandoned Vivec so cruelly, I doubted "calm" or "reasonable" would be on the horizon.

"You hard of hearing, kid? Got hit on the head too many times?" I knew Yan-Ilu well enough to know the distrust in Vivec's voice must be hitting her as hard as me, but her voice was as cheerful as ever. Well, she'd always been a better actor than me. (This was admittedly not very difficult, at least according to Sul, who'd claimed since we were children that those who were better actors than me included the vast majority of both Chimer and Dwemer populations, most northmen, a significant portion of local wildlife and the odd rock.)

"No!" Vivec protested. "I just-"

"You look like you're worried I've poisoned the stew. Let me tell you, kid," Yan-Ilu propped her hands on her hips, "if I wanted to get rid of a scrap like you, I wouldn't go to near that much effort. And I'm insulted that you could think I'd use poison. Stab you in the back, sure, or use magic, but poison? I have a reputation as a cook to defend, you know!"

A smile flickered across Vivec's face. For a brief moment, he looked as innocent and care-free as any of my young cousins in Indoril.

"But if you're really worried, I'm sure Nerevar would be willing to taste-test."

"Absolutely," I said. "The stew sounds excellent, my friend. I'll have that and a wick water. Vivec?"

It took a little more coaxing, but eventually we had Vivec seated at one of the tables outside the eatery, a large bowl of stew in front of him which he devoured industriously. I sat back, sipping my wick water, and watched Yan-Ilu engage him. The boy looked as if he'd momentarily forgotten the idea of getting up and fleeing, which was a definite improvement. Probably best I keep out of it – my friend seemed to have things well in hand, and the odd awed glance Vivec shot me made it clear he hadn't got past Indoril Nerevar, Hortator of the Council, the hero who drove the Nords from Resdayn yet.

One thing was for sure: I'd certainly found some "ammunition for my pet cause", as Sul had put it, on this trip. I planned on informing the council of the details. At length.



Next

Notes: Everyone, say hi to tiny!Vivec! This portrayal is nowhere in canon, I admit, but it's not as if I have particularly much to go on. (What are you saying Sermons of Vivec la la I can't hear you! ...although I suspect Yan-Ilu, who you may have noticed basically grabbed this entire section and ran off with it with me chasing futilely, is the basis for the netchiman's wife.)

I may have torn my hair out over this section slightly, because linguistics. There's pretty clearly two distinct linguistic groups in Dunmer names – the standard "Dunmeris" names (ex.: Varvur Sarethi, Ervesa Romandas, Ranis Athrys, Marayn Dren, ...Adryn, etc.) versus Ashlander names which seem to be Daedric in origin (e.g.: Urshilaku, Erabenimsun, Zainsubani, Minabibi Assardarainat, Shabibael, Hanarai Assutlanipal, etc). In-game, I find this pretty cool. In a flashback where I'm positing the Ashlander/Great Houses divide is just beginning, it's really frustrating. At this point, I expect that either the future-Ashlander tribes all have Dunmeris names, or the future-Great Houses have Daedric names, and one of the groups ends up changing their names to distance themselves from the other. However, since we don't know what those original names might be, I have to go with those familiar to players despite the fact that they imply a greater division than should really exist yet! *grumpy*

...I take the notion of fictional linguistic accuracy to new and absurd heights, is what you should take from the previous paragraph. Just be happy none of you are following me in the Tolkien fandom...

�She sounded almost like Mistress Mauripelle in Acatta Caristia's novels...�

A splendid interrogation by Jamie. Well, except for the �help� from Adryn.


Little Vivec stealing from Indoril Nerevar? Never touched Morrowind but those names ring a bell even for me!

@Acadian - Adryn is certain that this interrogation would have ended in ruin and disaster without her able assistance in dealing with Varvur! Jamie is... too polite to tell me her real opinion of that.

And I'm glad you liked "Acatta Caristia"! Sneaking popular authors into Tamriel is surprisingly fun, so you might want to keep an eye out for more of them.

Last installment, one (1) Indoril Nerevar, Hortator of the Council, met one (1) Vivec, clanless street kid, at Kogoruhn by virtue of having his pocket picked. Somehow, that version never made it into the Sermons of Vivec. Now, back to Adryn...



The Breton woman's blue robes were dusty and spotted with inkstains. Her hair was coming loose from its braid and falling into her face, while smudges of ink on her cheeks showed previous, ineffectual attempts to keep it out of the way. In short, she was the classic image of an absent-minded scholar to such a degree where I briefly wondered whether she was faking it.

"Excuse me, are you Edwinna Elbert?" I asked, then winced guiltily as the woman started upright. Apparently she'd been so absorbed in her perusal of - I craned my head - Fire and Faith by someone called Nchunak that she hadn't heard my approach.

"Yes, that's me. And who would you be?"

"I'm Adryn," I introduced myself. "I joined the guild at Balmora last week," Nine, had it really been less than a week? "I'm an alchemist."

"Ah! So you're working with Ajira, then." Edwinna gave me what I suspected was, for her, a look that was unusually focused for being directed at a person rather than a book. Ajira really seemed to have a lot of people looking out for her. I didn't begrudge her, I just really hoped this conversation wouldn't go the same way as the last. "I haven't had the time to visit Balmora in absolute ages. Tell me, how is she doing?"

I pondered the honest answer of Perfectly fine, except for the wanted fugitive hiding out at her place playing cards with her eight-year-old nephew and the fact that I think he's trying to infect the boy with his lichen-brained notions of 'honour', then discarded it. "She's doing well. Making good progress on her research - she finished one report on alchemical properties of the mushrooms of the Bitter Coast just a few days ago and is working on another about the flora of the Ascadian Isles."

Since my plan, such as it was, could only be put into motion during the afternoon, we'd had some time to catch up and experiment with the flowers Ervesa had sent me that morning. We'd been quite successful on both fronts - I'd found myself reassured that Varvur staying at Ajira's, an idea we'd hit upon late enough last night I hadn't had the energy to argue it, seemed to be working out better than I'd feared, and Ajira had been busy writing up our results when I'd left.

"Excellent!" Edwinna's smile lit up her face. "I'm glad to hear she's well. I'd have liked to train her myself, but she didn't want to move to Ald'ruhn and I don't work in alchemy at all." I tucked that piece of information away. "Now, why were you looking for me?"

"I have a delivery for you. From Jobasha - here."

The instant the oilcloth-wrapped bundle was in her hands, I felt myself relax as though a huge weight had fallen from my shoulders. Considering events it was hardly a surprise that I'd been more focused on other things over the last few days, but all the same I hadn't realised how much the book Jobasha had given me to deliver - and its accompanying threat - had been dragging at me. There, I told an imaginary Jobasha silently, see? Tirdas, just as promised, when professional couriers would break down in tears at the obstacles I encountered on the way. Imaginary Jobasha nodded gravely, I hoped in approval.

Edwinna's eyes lit up when she unwrapped the book. "Chronicles of Nchuleft! I've been looking for that for months! Jobasha is truly a pearl among booksellers. Here, for your trouble." She pressed a ten-drake coin into my hand. "Was there anything else?"

Technically, there was - Trebonius' idea of a suitable task for a junior member, and Malven's resulting order that I attach myself to Edwinna as a Dwemer scholar. However, judging by the way Edwinna was regarding her new acquisition (in much the way I might regard a new kind of flower, or a prisoner in Imperial City food that was actually fit for consumption) this was probably not the best of times. It's really better to ask people things like that when they aren't clearly trying to develop telepathic abilities in order to force you to go away.

And, of course, I had other things to do in Ald'ruhn.

"No, that's all."

Edwinna nodded absently, eyes focused on her new book, as I made myself scarce.



The buildings of Ald'ruhn were even more striking up close, and I found myself glad that Varvur wasn't with me because I would have been hard-put to affect nonchalance. Shell-houses loomed all around me, dominated by the giant emperor of a crab I'd spotted the day before. Up close it was even more eye-wideningly large, looking big enough to encompass the entirety of Seyda Neen with room to spare.

"It's Skar, outlander," a passing Dunmer said. She must have noticed me staring. "It's even larger inside - most of it is buried. Impressive, no?" She sounded proud.

"I'll say." My hand went to the scarf wrapped around my head to make sure it was secure.

When I'd mentioned being worried that Venim might be watching for me, Varvur had informed me (with what I felt was more relish than strictly necessary) that among Dunmer, my appearance was really quite nondescript apart from my hair. He'd suggested this method of disguising it, claiming it was a common fashion in Ald'ruhn. I'd been dubious - in my experience, nobility are frequently somewhat, shall we say, out of touch when it comes to normal people - but the woman who'd spoken to me was similarly attired, as were enough people around us to show that Varvur had been right. I immediately resolved never to let him know.

At any rate, once I'd managed to stop gawking at Ald'ruhn I realised that my goal was almost next door to the Mages' Guild. Luckily so, because I'd noticed dark grey clouds gathering above the city. They didn't look quite like rain-clouds, but their size and colour - along with the wary looks other passersby shot at them - made me want to hurry all the same.

Once inside the Rat in the Pot, I shook the ash that had gathered even over such a short distance from my shoes. The traces of more ash in the entranceway along with neat piles of the stuff to the side showed that my current activity was one that occurred frequently in this area, but that someone armed with a broom had declared war against its effects.

Further inside, the Rat in the Pot was surprisingly comfortable, especially for being in a place that us small fleshy creatures would once only have encountered during dinner - as in, during a giant crab making us into its dinner. A central stalk that descended from the ceiling had been turned into a hearth in which a fire crackled merrily. Carpets lay over the floor, making it far easier to ignore exactly what you were walking on, and there were stairs and tables scattered about, as well as a bar with barstools against the opposite wall. I made my way towards it.

Despite the early hour, I noticed, there were a surprising number of customers. A whole group at that nearby table, involved in conversation-

"-see, I told you it'd be easy!"

...why was that voice familiar?

With a sinking heart, I identified the speaker as Allding, holding forth to an Argonian and an Orc. The Orc was smaller than most of his kind and clad in simple dark clothing, as was the Argonian, as were... suspiciously many people in this building, as a matter of fact, especially considering they were exactly the sort of thing I'd use as 'working clothes': mottled dark greys that blended into the shadows, soft and fitted to minimize unfortunate rustle...

Oh, Alduin devour it all.

Had I actually just wandered into another Thieves' Guild headquarters? What had I done in a previous life to deserve for this to keep happening to me?

While I was trying to force my frozen legs to move, Allding's eyes flicked over to me... and past, with no sign of recognition.

I relaxed.

Nondescript, was it? I could work with that.



Next

Oh my. Your opening paragraph � specifically, the description of Edwinna - was spectacular. I could not only picture her perfectly, but found myself enviously taking notes on your style.

This was followed by the wonderful internal and external dialogue that Adryn shared with us as to her business there � a delight to read, as ever.

Ascadian Isles. Sounds like home!

Heh, I remember the first time I read a fanfic here where the author mentioned the Rat in the Pot. I gushed how cleverly creative they were only, of course, to be gently informed by the author that they would forward my compliment to BethSoft. So that is how I learned that there really is a Rat in a Pot in Morrowind.

Well, it seems like the advice Adryn got to hood her hair nondescriptly turned out to be sound.

Oh my gosh, little Vivec! Loved it.

Always a delight to spend time with Adryn.

@Acadian - you're making me blush, you know! I'm glad you like Edwinna's description, she's another character that I have a very firm idea of and I'm very happy that came across! And yes, I must confess that the Rat in the Pot is not my invention. It's a great name, isn't it?

Re: Ascadian Isles... Acadian, do you want to tell us something?

@Grits - I'm very glad you liked little Vivec! I was worried about him because it's something of a departure from the info given in the game, but I need to flesh out Nerevar and the Tribunal (why should be obvious by now) and I just refuse to base all that on the Sermons of Vivec. REFUSE.

Last chapter, Adryn went investigating in Ald'ruhn in hopes of proving Varvur's innocence. This went slightly awry almost immediately, as it turns out that the place she decided to begin investigating was the headquarters of the Ald'ruhn Thieves Guild, and in particular the main haunt of one Allding, Nord thief she last met in Venim manor and would really rather prefer to never clap eyes on again, thank you very much. Thankfully for her, her disguise kept her unrecognised. Let's see if that stays the case...



"Are you planning to order anything?"

I blinked, torn out of my thoughts by the frowning publican, and said the first thing that came to mind. "A wick water, please."

Wick water? Where had that come from?

But the woman was nodding and reaching behind the bar. I shrugged - I must have heard it somewhere, maybe in the Eight Plates that first night. It's amazing what bubbles up from the depths of your mind when you're under stress.

Wick water turned out to be something similar to the roasted barley tea I was familiar with from Skyrim, only made from a grain I didn't recognise, served cold instead of hot and sweetened with something I took a moment to recognise as scrib jelly. All in all, I decided my subconscious had chosen well.

The plan – which probably didn't deserve the name, but had at least been enough to stop Jamie's talk about returning to the Legion – was for me to settle down with a book and wait for Galtis Guvron to show; Varvur had assured me he always turned up during the course of the afternoon. I stuck with it, but my fingers trembled on the pages and I kept my head firmly averted from Allding. Luckily, he didn't seem inclined to pay me much attention, instead holding court among what must be his guildmates.

"-blundered into my operation." he was saying right now. "And then insisted on coming along – as if it's a sight-seeing trip!"

Wait a minute. This was sounding horribly familiar... except that if he was really referring to what I thought he was, this was a distorted version of events to say the least.

"Nine preserve us from amateurs," the Orc said. "Did you at least get a good haul?"

Allbraggart shook his head. "Sadly, no. That – girl – was so incompetent she alerted not only the guards, but Venim himself! It was only due to quick thinking and skill that I managed to get away."

I reminded myself firmly that walking over there and telling Allliar exactly what I thought of him would not be keeping a low profile, and was therefore highly inadvisable.

Really.

"Probably someone who couldn't cut it in the guild proper," said a nearby Altmer. "And thinks butting into the business of real thieves and trying to show off will get her an in."

Allhotair nodded, stroking the pathetic tufts on his chin that did not qualify as a beard. If only I could go over there and tell him that it made him look like an idiot, but that that was all to the good since "an idiot" was in fact the sum total of what he was, the underlying truth of his existence reflected in every single thing he thought and did. It was only fair to warn those unfortunate enough to find themselves in his vicinity about this fact-

Keep control of yourself, Adryn.

I gritted my teeth and took out the two Dwemer texts I'd purchased at Jobasha's. Keep a low profile. Do not draw attention to yourself in the middle of the local thieves' guildhall by, for instance, wandering over to a certain Nord-shaped mass of stupidity's table and yelling at him at length. You are a simple scholar, here only to wet her throat and get out of the Mages Guild for a bit. You had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with certain events at Bolvyn Venim's manor two days ago.

The first book, Antecedents of Dwemer Law, proved rather a rather dry discourse on similarities between the Dwemer and Altmer legal systems. Ordinarily I'd have tried to slog through it, but given the level of... distractions and temptations... in my surroundings, I figured that might prove a bad idea. Luckily, Ruins of Kemel-Ze not only proved far more engaging, its very bigoted author also gave me a safe target for my rage. I was firmly engrossed and muttering imprecations against Nordssen's attitude towards Dunmer when the publican's voice broke my concentration.

"Ah, Galtis! Good to see you, how's business?"

I glanced up from my book just in time to see a somewhat plump Dunmer with thinning black hair make a beeline for the bar.

Wait, was he-

I kept my eyes firmly fixed on my book, barely able to believe my luck, as he sat down some two barstools away.

"Excellent, my dear Lirielle! The wares my new partner's been supplying me with sell like scrib pies at New Year's."

My ears perked as Guvron shucked his cloak and set his pack on the stool between us.

"I'm glad to know someone's doing well, at least." The publican - Lirielle, I supposed - sounded a little disgruntled. "I don't suppose you'd let me in on your secret? You're very mysterious about these new wares of yours, and I've got Hard-Heart's boot-lickers circling like vultures."

"Ah, my partner's very... particular. I don't think you'd like her. And I don't think our wares would suit you, either. I've got something right here which I think would suit you much better, mind..."

Guvron opened up his pack and withdrew an amulet, which he presented to Lirielle. He left the pack open.

All right, fate was clearly trying to make up for some of the things it had been heaping on me lately.

"Trying to woo me while my brother's not here, is that it?" Well, both Lirielle and Guvron seemed distracted. I turned my head slightly to see what he had with him.

I couldn't see anything like the statue Varvur had described. Mostly his pack seemed to contain cheap jewellery - similar to the amulet Guvron was trying to clasp around Lirielle's neck while she, laughing, fended him off - along with what looked like several folded linen shirts. There were also a few slim books, with some loose parchment protruding from between the pages of one of them. A letter, maybe? I could see a few lines of handwriting. I chanced a closer look-

If that wasn't in code, I'd eat my headscarf.

(Which was something I'd really prefer to avoid, given that it was probably the only thing keeping me safely unrecognised right now.)

"Eh? What's this?"

I quickly looked up, afraid Lirielle had caught me being nosy. My luck was in, however – Lirielle's eyes weren't on me, but on a Redguard woman approaching the bar.

A very familiar Redguard woman.

What in Kynareth's name was Jamie doing here? I thought I'd been explicitly clear that I did not need any help here, that in fact other people would most likely only get in the way. I'd taken Jamie for reasonably intelligent – surprisingly so, in fact, given her profession – and even Varvur had claimed to understand the idea after I'd been through with it yesterday.

"Lirielle Stoine?" Jamie asked. She was ignoring me entirely, I noticed with grudging approval.

"That's my name, yes." Lirielle sounded wary. The friendly woman who'd served me my wick water and had been joking with Guvron had vanished, leaving a stone-faced stranger.

"Lobrumol gro-Aglakh sent me, from the Fighter's Guild. It's about a debt-"

"What. Did you. Say?"

The growl sounded like it should come from a bear, not a small Breton woman. Around us, conversation ground to a halt. I was impressed despite myself when Jamie didn't step back.

"A debt," she repeated, frowning. "He says the deadline for payment is overdue. I might be able to talk him into an extension, but you'd need to make an initial payment-"

"Make an initial payment?" Lirielle's voice rose. "As if I'd give a shaved copper to that s'wit! It's not even my debt and now his lackeys are coming after me-"

Tearing myself away from the unfolding drama, I let an unobtrusive glance drift around the tavern. Every eye was fixed on Jamie and Lirielle. This included Guvron next to me, who was watching the scene with a dark scowl. He looked as though he was tempted to jump in and start defending Lirielle with his fists; I reminded myself firmly that Jamie could take care of herself.

My gaze was drawn back to the letter in Guvron's pack. I found myself torn. The plan had been for me to use certain of my... less than legitimately acquired skills to spy on Guvron, both by eavesdropping and by following him inconspicuously if I didn't find out anything interesting. This would be something of a departure-

But Guvron didn't seem as if he'd let anything more slip to Lirielle, and what were the chances that letter didn't have something to do with Varvur's situation? Why else would a poor pawnbroker who made his living off cheap rings and amulets be receiving encrypted messages?

Besides, that pack, so wonderfully positioned, with the witnesses so beautifully distracted... it was calling to me. Everything had transpired so perfectly, it was as though the universe was begging me to take it off its hands. Who was I to turn down the universe?

When I started packing up, Lirielle shot me a brief glance. I murmured a thank-you, making sure to keep my movements smooth and unhurried and Ruins of Kemel-Ze covering the book - with its suspicious letter - I'd plucked from Guvron's pack. She gave me a distracted nod, then turned back to Jamie.

"You cursed Camonna Tong thugs drove him to-"

By the time I had all my things together and was getting up to leave, she and Jamie had become sufficiently loud and attention-grabbing that I suspected I'd be able to just grab Guvron's pack in full view of everyone with no effort to hide what I was doing and still get away with it. (Not, I told myself sternly, that that was a good idea.) In fact, several of the other patrons were getting up and moving in their direction. One of them was Allding.

I stared at the Nord "thief", remembered the way the events at Venim manor had actually gone in full, agonising detail, and gave in to impulse.

Allbraggart scowled at me when I bumped into him. I mumbled a low apology, making sure to keep my head and face turned away and to keep walking - the very image of a mer in a hurry. After a moment, I heard Allunobservant mutter a curse about people who didn't watch where they were going, followed by his receding footsteps.

Outside, I patted the hard lump under my robes. Forty septims for a glass dagger, hadn't Fasile said? If I could find somewhere to fence it, that would mean no worries about money for a long, long time. I figured it was fair enough revenge for the trouble Allding had caused me.

Besides, I thought virtuously, maybe depriving him of the weapon would teach him not to wave it at innocent passersby. I really had no idea why the Mastermind hadn't tossed him out yet. Or maybe the entire Morrowind guild didn't know how a proper thief behaved.

Back in the Mages' Guild, I found a desk in a quiet corner and looked over my new acquisitions. The book had Poison Song written on the cover - a glance inside showed that it seemed to be the first in a series of novels of some sort. Not particularly relevant, was my guess, although I wasn't going to turn down free bedtime reading.

The letter was an entirely different matter.

ZHPLTWMIWVAMCEKMOSMRLCDYIXLERVXYAAELXWIJWROXZBZAAWPRDXIQIXYKTMXWCEPAZVJIWLSLQYEA
IHDRKDEYTHHYXMYMXNXFDAFIKHTILSMRVXFDOVHGOLVKLVIILZOHOEVUFXSVMRVXYASYRAGASUFWXDHP
DENSWLUSLDIIBMEPEBIKMLHAYEWZMECQEIKMPSFDMAXPCXEKASRVRGFVPDVUOBEWAGLWKFRXXPEAXDQA
WKEKVIIETCWCSRYLAELFIWPVFQNNEDWYYZYERSTCWCOXZXTUMTGOACRJDGMKXSCJPQIBFVNTYOWXWEDZ
ATGSWELOXZBZXAXIECHDWKOWMKLXZPCGPREKTLILKHGWOFEROKKYYYKAVYDOEPAICOEPEAEKSFZXPTXP
KUBWWEMFWNETIYIADKPAOLHGYSXSMJWPZSAGAQWLKEXRUASDVGRALADRSIIYWNKVSB

It seemed I wouldn't have to eat my headscarf after all. Probably for the best - cloth doesn't agree with my stomach.

"Let's see what you're hiding, hmm?"



Next

Notes: Here's a challenge for anyone interested: can you decrypt the letter? I checked and it should be possible. A hint to get you started: this type of encryption is also used elsewhere in-game.

Adryn maintaining her �low profile� while sharing her very active internal dialogue in the tavern was delightful to read.

Jamie�s distraction was brilliant, allowing our headscarved Dunmer to make off with not only a letter, but a valuable dagger�s worth of recompense.

Heh, on the code, I�m afraid Adryn will have to solve it for me.

Chapter 9

*****




These had me laughing...but then this next quote left me with an eerie feeling of foreshadowing and mystery - something was coming up:



And sure enough, it did in the next chapter! Great write, and set the mood for the next chapter perfectly!




Chapter 9.2

*****

The constant tiffing between Adryn and Varvur had me in stitches, particularly at the end when it was obvious it had strongly effected the unwilling audience of Sosia and Hisin; and I remembered us discussing their inability to get along a couple years ago! I do love it when characters rub each other the wrong way for inexplicable reasons, lol.

But then sandwiched in between that and the hilarious reactions of Sosia and Hisin on their parting ways you threw this in, the real meat of the chapter:




HA! That subtle foreshadowing of the last chapter was a clue, I thought it felt eerie !!! WOO HOO!

Now we are getting to why Varvur was really pitched together with Adryn - both having the nightmares and blackouts and horrible awakenings. Now I am lost as to whether this is a part of Morrowind Lore or if this is Kaz Lore. I never played far enough in Morrowind to get to know all the quests and storylines, just what I read in Treydog and Helena's Fics that followed closely to actual quests.

So of course I think of the Bloodmoon expansion with the nightmares and blood; but is it? I'm dying to know the mystery now!

And here is the other bread of the sandwich:




BWAAHAA !!! Awesome write !!!

Like Acadian I enjoyed Adryn�s internal seething as she kept a cool exterior. Nabbing Allding�s dagger was a great touch!

@Acadian - I'm glad you liked Adryn's... *cough* low profile *cough*. And no worries re: the code - Adryn is on the case!

@mALX - first off, it is so great to see you commenting again!! I am so happy things are working out so that you can follow the stories here again. Adryn just wasn't the same without you.

And yes, you're very astute - the commonality between their experiences is one of the reasons I threw Varvur and Adryn together. (Their hilarious interactions actually weren't one of the reasons, since, yep, as we discussed a few years ago, I had no idea they were going to get along that badly.) Varvur's story is indeed Morrowind lore, although the in-game quest involves you rescuing him for his father and then him sitting on his butt back home while you investigate what caused things with the full blessing of law enforcement. (Jamie would no doubt have been a great deal happier with that version, lol.) Adryn's dreams are not exactly MW lore - the PC does have strange dreams, but I've basically replaced them in their entirety. I take it as a compliment that you think it works in the setting!

@Grits - Seething Adryn seems to have struck a chord with people! (She does it so *well*...) And I'm glad you liked her nabbing the dagger. I was hoping to show that Adryn does still have a tendency towards reckless impulsiveness when her temper is up (so... most of the time...), but I was worried it was a bit too far.

Last installment, Adryn had something of a breakthrough in her investigation of what exactly happened to Varvur. Aided by a timely distraction from Jamie, she grabbed an encrypted letter from Galtis Guvron's pack, made her way back to the Mages' Guild and is now busy trying to crack the cipher.

She also stole Allding's glass dagger on the way out. She figures it can be a start on repayment for all the trouble he's caused her.



I was well into my work by the time Jamie tapped me on the shoulder. I glared at her for making me jerk and leave an ink-splotch on my current sheet of scrap parchment, then remembered I should be glaring at her for something else.

"What was all that about? Showing up in there like that? I thought we agreed you'd let me handle this!" I hissed.

Jamie raised an eyebrow. "Calm down, will you? I was letting you handle it - I thought I'd ask in the Fighters Guild for another job while I was waiting. And it so happened that job was to ask Lirielle Stoine, owner of the Rat in the Pot, for some money she owed. Perfect opportunity to check on how you were doing without looking suspicious, I thought, and maybe you'd be able to use the distraction." She scowled. "Turned out to be more of one than I'd like. Lirielle got really upset, said her brother owed the money and people from the guild put so much pressure on him he went to see if he could make it hunting bandits in a cave - with no real training, mind. She hasn't heard from him since, says she's getting really worried. I'm starting to think the Fighter's Guild is as corrupt as the Legion."

Something about that tugged at my memory. Thought the point of an Imperial guild was supposed to be that it wasn't a crime syndicate... who had said that?

"Helviane Desele!"

"Huh?" Jamie stared at me.

"Oh, right, sorry- Helviane Desele, in Suran, I remember her saying something about the Fighter's Guild running protection rackets."

"Great. Just great." Jamie buried her head in her hands. "I swear, trying to collect mushrooms for Ajira is the most honest job I've been asked to do since I arrived on this benighted island. If only I didn't need the money-" She straightened. "Well, enough of that. What did you find out?"

"Guvron had a letter in his bag, tucked into this book." I hefted Poison Song.

Jamie frowned. For a moment I thought she was going to object to my methods, but in the end she remained silent. Stendarr be praised - I didn't think I could deal with two Varvurs. One was more than bad enough already.

She frowned even more when she looked over the letter. "Encrypted? Curse it. Maybe if we take it to the guard or something, tell them we think it contains important information, they might be able to..."

I gave her a puzzled look. "Take it to the guard, whatever for? I'm making progress, I swear. See," I explained, "it's definitely not a simple substitution, not even scrambled - after my first guesses only gave gibberish I counted the frequency of the different letters and they're far too evenly distributed for that. However, I think it might be polyalphabetic, maybe Vigenerus? That one's always popular. If so, I need to figure out the keyword - but there's a few repeated groups of letters, so I can guess at the length using common divisors-"

"If I admit that you seem to know what you're doing, will you please start speaking Tamrielic again?"

Of course, I'd forgotten that this wasn't exactly a common skill.

But code-breaking can be quite a handy talent for a thief. Intercepted messages can give the location of lucrative goods or the details of their protection, and decoded stolen documents can be sensitive enough that the owner is willing to pay a high price to get them back (mind you, this should be done as a one-time deal - blackmail is really something to avoid unless absolutely necessary). And if the sensitive information you find is sufficiently disgusting, no guard commander has ever refused an anonymous tip... especially not one accompanied by solid proof.

Never say the Thieves' Guild does nothing for you.

"Sorry," I apologised. "What I mean is - I think I can crack this, although it might take me a while. I'll probably take it back to Balmora with me and work on it there."

"Good, good." Jamie hesitated. "Say, Adryn... do you think you'll be all right on your own for a day or two?"

"Wait, you're leaving?" I was sure that yesterday evening Jamie had said she didn't have anything else she was working on right now.

"It's Lirielle's brother." Jamie rubbed the back of her head. "She's really worried about him. Apparently he heard about some rich bandits holed up in a cave near Gnaar Mok and decided to see if he couldn't raise the debt money that way - as I said, he's not a trained fighter or anything, and there's been no word since. I said I could go check on him. I wasn't planning to actually go on any jobs until we had this- business all sorted out, but... if he died because I delayed, I'd never be able to forgive myself."

It seemed Jamie was infected by that dangerous disease known as altruism. Well, I might as well take pity on such an unfortunate.

"Hey, I'm a grown adult - and so's Ajira, for that matter. The only one of us who needs a babysitter is Varvur, and Ma'Zajirr seems to have that spot covered. We'll be fine."

I did have to admit it had been comforting to have a trained fighter standing by for back-up, but I'd gone for years without such luxuries. Besides, I'd most likely need several days at least to crack the code - chances were she'd have made it back by the time I did.

"Right. I should be back in two days or thereabouts - Lirielle said the cave is around half a day's walk from Ald'ruhn, but I might stop by a friend's place on the way." Jamie hesitated. "Don't do anything reckless, all right? I'm not sure what that," she nodded at the encrypted letter, "is all about, but if they've used magic to murder before-"

"Me? Reckless? I think you're confusing me for Varvur, here. Trust me, the last thing I plan on doing is heading into danger. That's what you fighter types are for, after all." I gave Jamie a winning smile. She looked strangely unconvinced. "Really! I promise I'll be careful."

"Just... remember, it'll only be a few days until I'm back."



Some time later, I leaned back in my chair in satisfaction.

It had been Vigenerus after all, and I'd had a very lucky break - after working out that the key they were using was most likely fifteen letters long, I'd decided to test if the letter started with Galtis on a hunch. It had, and breaking the whole code was a quick matter after that. Apparently, no one had bothered telling these people that you shouldn't use addresses in encrypted texts. Amateurs.

I made a mental note of the key phrase in case I ran into more people using this system. I wondered whether there was any special meaning behind 'the sleeper wakes' or whether they'd just chosen it because it was memorable? Well, no matter.

I read over the decrypted message.

Galtis,

It seems as though your blunder with the Sarethis will not ruin us after all. Venim has jumped on the opportunity to have something to hold over Sarethi's head by taking the son into custody. He does not seem interested in asking questions.

I will be away on our Lord's business until next Middas. Keep placing statues around Ald'ruhn, and place them quickly and wisely. Remember to keep a low profile this time and make sure they cannot be traced back to you. Should all else fail, do not let yourself be captured alive. Do not disappoint me again.

Destroy this note.

Hanarai

Hanarai. A name. And she was gone right now, assuming the note wasn't more than a week old.

Don't do anything reckless, Jamie had said. Well, a little burglary hardly counted, surely? I'd scope out the terrain first, but I couldn't think it would be difficult - not if the place was empty.

Besides, I told myself, this might be my only chance. Hanarai was coming back tomorrow, and Guvron would notice the theft sooner or later.

Around me the guild was winding towards closing time, various members heading off to their homes for supper. The guild guide, a young Altmer I'd heard called 'Erranil', wasn't one of them. A quick inquiry yielded that the guild guide service would be open until late, that she had food with her in her bag, and numerous complaints about guild regulations regarding maximum working hours - in particular, the exceptions they made for guild guides. I nodded and murmured sympathetically at all the right moments, then steered the conversation over to another topic.

"A census? Hmm..." Erranil tapped her chin. "We don't have one, but I think there are records in the public library. It'll be closed by now, mind you."

Well, so much for my plans - I couldn't very well investigate Hanarai's home if I didn't know where it was. Unless I broke into the public library as well, but-

"Why do you ask?" Apparently I'd made Erranil curious.

"I..." I fell back on the excuse I'd used regarding Caius, "I'm running some deliveries right now, one of them is a Hanarai. But they didn't know exactly where she lives," I improvised. "I was hoping there might be a census I could consult..."

"Hanarai?" Erranil frowned. "That name sounds familiar... oh, do you mean Hanarai Assutlanipal?" Her face cleared. "I send her to Balmora every now and then, and I've seen her attending Vala's history lessons. Where she lives... let me think."

Well, that was a stroke of luck right there. True, as a guild guide Erranil no doubt met a great many people, but Ald'ruhn was still a large city - I hadn't expected her to actually know Hanarai.

"She's a maid at Morvayn manor, but I don't think she lives there. She said something once..." Inwardly, I heaved a sigh of relief - breaking into a manor would make things far more complicated than I'd like. "Oh yes! She lives in the first house on the left on Veloth's Street, the one that goes to the Temple - her house is just at the corner with the stairs that go up to Skar. I remember because she complained about the noise once, living at that intersection. But if you want to drop something off, you might need to wait a few days. I transported her to Balmora Loredas afternoon, I don't think she's come back yet."

Confirmation! See there, I told myself, I had two sources telling me this Hanarai wasn't in Ald'ruhn right now. Having a quiet look around her house was definitely not reckless.

"Oh, that's all right," I said. "It's just a letter, I'll slip it under her door."



Next

Notes: Somehow, I'm expecting different reactions to this update from those who haven't played Morrowind before and those who have...

Also, it's entirely possible I accidentally made Adryn a cryptographic super-genius - I really have no idea how long it'd take to to crack this code without the benefit of modern technology. Oh well! Considering that I have come to believe all of Adryn's combat skills are actually in the negative, she deserves to be good at some things.

The encryption, for those who are interested, is a Vigenere cipher and is the same type of encryption as the one used in the letter for Caius Cosades you get at the start of the game. (Adryn, who at that point only wanted to get the errand over with as quickly as possible and didn't want to give them any reason to hold onto her, didn't bother cracking open the package. She's probably regretting that by now.)

I love that Adryn�s good at codes, I think it suits her perfectly. Jamie made me smile throughout her part. As soon as she mentioned Lirielle�s brother it was just a matter of her talking herself into looking, you�ve let us know her so well.

I haven�t played very far so this is all new to me.

I chuckled as Adryn befuddled Jamie with �cryptospeak�. It�s okay, Jamie; she befuddled me too!

�It seemed Jamie was infected by that dangerous disease known as altruism.� - - I hadn�t thought of it in those terms, but that is a neat way of thinking about what motivates some of our characters to do some of the foolhardy courageous stuff they do.

�Don't do anything reckless, Jamie had said. Well, a little burglary hardly counted, surely?� - -

Good job cracking that code and the ability suits Adryn well. And what a nice piece of good fortune that her chat with the guild guide yielded some missing pieces!

@Grits - I'm glad I've made Jamie so familiar to you! And yes, there was no way Jamie could let that quest heart-wrenching tale pass without offering to help... I generally think of her as good at all those protagonisty things Adryn isn't, lol.

@Acadian - Adryn insists that altruism is an illness which sadly and, often, fatally afflicts the minds of otherwise sensible people and is - you got it right - almost omnipresent in heroes.

As to whether it's fortunate she found herself able to continue with her plan... we'll see.

Last installment, Adryn's investigation skills (abetted by Jamie, one helpful Ald'ruhn guild guide and her own cryptographic abilities) culminated in her tracing the statue back to one Hanarai Assutlanipal and learning where the woman lived and that she was currently away. The obvious plan, Adryn thinks, is to have a poke around her house to see if there's anything incriminating there...



I stepped outside the Mages' Guild and into a plane of Oblivion. At least, it was the best explanation I could come up with for why the streets of Ald'ruhn had been replaced by a maelstrom of howling winds and whirling flakes of ash so thick you couldn't even breathe, let alone see.

Oh. That was what those clouds had been about. Suddenly the mention of 'ash storms' I'd overheard earlier made much more sense.

I held one hand in front of my face, trying to shield my eyes from the blowing ash; with the other, I grabbed the end of my scarf and held it over my nose and mouth. This way I could breathe at least a little, even though I suspected I'd be coughing ash for days. Then, teeth gritted, I set out into the storm.

The walk seemed to take forever as I struggled against the wind and ash, the map of Ald'ruhn fixed in my mind. I wished I'd done a little more exploration of the city earlier instead of heading straight to the Rat - right now, it would really be good to know more landmarks. The last thing I wanted was to come bursting in on Hanarai's neighbours.

There! That dark shape ahead had to be the great crab I'd been told earlier was called "Skar", and when I gingerly moved forwards I hit stairs. And – I squinted into the storm – yes, there was a road going off to my right, although I had to admit I didn't much feel like checking whether there was a Temple at its end.

So this house right here must be...

I didn't bother looking around to see if I was being watched before grabbing Allding's lockpicks. Anyone who was stupid enough to be outside right now would be busy trying not to suffocate, and besides, in this weather they'd have to be standing on top of me in order to see what I was doing.

I blew into the house with a cloud of ash and quickly shut the door behind me. For a few moments, I hacked and coughed, then my breathing settled. I spent a few moments indulging in pure joy at the presence of air again. Finally, when I'd recovered somewhat, I took a look around.

Darkness.

I dug into my pack. One of the things I'd taken with me had been... there it was!

I pulled out the candle, then dug further, looking for a firesteel. I was just on the verge of dumping everything I had with me on the floor and sorting through it by feel when I remembered that I hadn't actually taken one with me, the reason for that a certain spell I'd learned my first day on the island. Shaking my head at my forgetfulness, I pinched the wick of the candle into flame, then looked around.

The house looked like a smaller version of the Rat in the Pot, with the same central hearth but only a small sleeping alcove behind it. For a moment I wondered if this was all there was to the house – even smaller than Ajira's home in Balmora – but then I spotted the stairs heading down.

Ash had blown all over the entryway with my hasty entrance. I frowned at the mess – a good targeted burglary leaves everything as it was before, and this would be hard to undo. I'd try to clean up before I left, but if Hanarai kept the front area of her home even remotely tidy it would be easy for her to realise someone had been here when she got back.

Oh well, there was nothing I could do about it now. And since I was here, it was time to see if I couldn't find anything incriminating. Another letter, easy to crack now that I knew the key, or perhaps some of those statues - if I could find one like Varvur described, we could take it to be investigated by a magical expert. Combined with the clear evidence of a conspiracy I'd found, if they found any traces of malignant magic on the thing Varvur would surely be declared innocent and out of my hair for good.

A while later, I'd finished rummaging through most of Hanarai's house and come up blank. All that remained was a locked door on the lower floor which I guessed led to a cellar.

The lock on the outside door had been easy. This one was a great deal harder, and I had no lockpicks other than Allding's - if they broke, I'd be in trouble. This called for generous investments of focus, skill and time, all of which I thankfully had in ample supply. Finally the lock snicked open. I was about to ease the door open when my instincts screamed warning.

A thread, dark enough it was nearly invisible, running across the gap between door and frame-

Ah. A trap.

I smiled grimly. What sort of simple maid sends messages in code and has not just locked but trapped the door to her cellar?

Disarming the trap was easily as tricky as picking the look, with the added complication that I didn't have the right tools with me. I ended up heading upstairs and appropriating some of the contents of Hanarai's sewing kit to serve as my makeshift replacement. By the time I finally managed to disarm the thing, the howling of the storm outside had eased off, my candle was burning dangerously low and my stomach was starting to make grumbling noises indicating that if I didn't give it something to digest in the near future, it would be forced to find something on its own and my stomach lining was right there...

"Patience," I informed it and eased the door open.

The first thing I noticed was that I didn't need my candle. The small room at the bottom of a flight of stairs was lit with a deep, pulsating crimson light, one which promised quite the headache but was enough to see by. Oddly, I couldn't work out where it was coming from.

The second thing I noticed was a sickly sweet rotting smell wafting towards me, reminiscent of the stench of the Blighted guar. Looking down into the room, I suspected the origin might be what looked like a chunk of raw meat, lying on a metal plate as though inviting me to dinner.

I gulped. My hunger had turned tail and fled entirely, and every fibre of my body screamed I should be doing the same. Well - every fibre except for those in my legs. They had taken the first step down the stairs without bothering to consult me. Now they took another, leaving me feeling a little like a mouse hypnotised by a serpent.

As my feet dragged me down the stairs, more details caught my attention:

The tapestry covering the far wall, black and crimson, covered in abstract patterns that were strangely hard to make out... especially because I could almost swear they shifted and writhed like some hill of centipedes on the edge of my vision, even though whenever I looked straight at them they were still.

The feeling of soft, penetrating whispers in the air, perfectly balanced on the edge between too-vivid imagination and actual sound.

The odd metal stand, with more of those chunks of meat hanging from it like some sort of obscene decoration. Up closer, I could see that the meat was covered in great bulging tumors which leaked yellowish pus. Perhaps whatever creature it belonged to had been Blighted-

Whatever creature?

I swallowed hard. Some of the chunks had patches of abraded skin still attached... patches of Dunmer-grey skin.

And... the meat on the plate had what looked like a bite taken out of it.

My stomach decided to take a moment to inform me that it had sat down and seriously contemplated its life and choices up to this point. It regretted how bossy it had been in the past and would like to assure me that it had changed its ways and would never, ever ask for nourishment ever again. In fact, it was strongly considering demonstrating its newfound dedication to fasting by expelling everything it currently contained.

All right. All right. Focus.

I'd found clear and unmistakeable evidence of Hanarai being involved in something, and I highly doubted it was the local knitting circle. If you'd asked me yesterday, I'd have said I wouldn't put much past some of the old grannies I'd seen who'd ruled such gatherings with an iron fist, but I was quite sure that cannibalism was on that short list. At least cannibalism without a knife and fork.

I should really be happy to have discovered something, I told myself. I was sure I'd start being so as soon as I stopped feeling as though I'd wandered into the open maw of a sleeping beast and any moment now it was going to wake up hungry.

A glint of eyes in the corner-

I whirled, heart thumping fit to burst. I only relaxed slightly when I saw the culprit wasn't any person or... creature, but a foot-high red statue on a shelf in the corner, depicting what I thought was some sort of horned demon.

One that looked just like Varvur described, in short.

Shadows shifted and twisted at the base of the statue. The diffuse crimson light reflected strangely off its eyes, making it almost look as if they were glowing.

I did not want to touch that thing.

Wait, why was I moving?

As if in a trance, I found myself stepping forward, reaching out and - mental shrieks of protest in vain - picking up the statue.

It looked and felt like it was made of some sort of reddish stone, albeit one I couldn't identify, but if so it was far too light to be solid. It was also strangely warm, and I almost thought I could feel the slightest slow throb like a faint heartbeat.

The whispers I'd been hearing-imagining this whole time grew steadily louder and more penetrating. I began to make out words...

outlander intruder defiler join us and be forgiven join us and be cleansed join us in the flesh

come to us come to us come to Him beneath Red Mountain

He calls

He calls

THE SLEEPER WAKES-

My mind fought the rising chorus with a single word:

Run.

After an endless frozen moment, that managed to get through to my unresponsive limbs. I wheeled around and ran like I'd never run in my life.

Once I reached the top of the stairs and Hanarai's living area, the voices died away. I didn't halt there, however. I bolted up the next flight of stairs and outside. I only stopped when I was struggling for breath and Hanarai's house was well out of sight.

A quick look around showed that although the storm had stopped, the streets were still almost deserted. Nobody seemed to have noticed my abrupt retreat.

Far more importantly... nothing had followed me.

Good, I thought.

Then I bent over and threw up what felt like everything I'd ever eaten.



Next

Notes: Full disclosure: the Sixth House freaks me out like ANYTHING. Those creepy mind-controlling statues and the creepy lighting and the whispers and the implied cannibalism of corprus beasts and the OTHER STUFF aaaaaaah nightmare fodder!! It might be possible that when I actually play Morrowind I strenuously avoid entering caves because they might be Sixth House bases. And when I find myself forced to enter one for plot reasons I generally end up equipping a ring of constant levitation and hiding on the ceiling.

...the nice thing about writing is that you get to share feelings like that!!

A little burglary, what can go wrong?

A pretty creepy basement!

Once again, I find myself rather mesmerized by how you craft Adryn�s internal voice. What you have referred to as verbose, I find delightfully whimsical and extremely creative in how you phrase her impressions and descriptions. And all this while maintaining a crisp easy-reading clip. I find myself not only enjoying how you present her, but studying your style of prose for the lessons therein.

@Acadian - You'd think Adryn would really know better than to tempt fate by thinking things like "only a simple burglary" or the like, wouldn't you...

And thank you so much for the kind words, I'm glad you like Adryn's style! (And am also blushing over here, just so you know.) I worry sometimes that her inner monolgue is distracting from what's going on, so it's particularly good to hear you say that I'm still maintaining a good reading speed.

Last installment, Adryn investigated Hanarai's home. A simple burglary, as performed by an experienced professional, when the inhabitant isn't in town - what could possibly go wrong, she thought?

Adryn hadn't been counting on the severely creepy basement, for one. With the corprus meat. And the statues. And the voices.

...last we saw Adryn, she'd just fled Hanarai's house at top speed, a statue she'd not-entirely-voluntarily taken along tucked under one arm. Let's see where things go from there.



"So, you see," I tried. "The good news is, I think we found out what affected Varvur."

Three pairs of eyes stared at the statue where it sat innocuously on Ajira's table.

"That is all very well and good, friend Adryn." Ajira sounded somewhat less than impressed by my heroic effort to find a bright side to the current situation. "However, it strikes Ajira that we have gone from the fire into the lava pool. What," she stabbed a claw towards the statue, taking care not to touch the thing, "are we to do with it now? This item is clearly very dangerous."

"You can say that again," Varvur said, fingers clenched around his mug of tea. He'd gone pasty-white from my first description of Hanarai's cellar and hadn't recovered since. It was a sign of how bad things had gotten that I couldn't even take pleasure in his obvious distress. "I can't believe- I had no idea-" He shuddered so hard tea slopped over the sides of the mug. "I was sleeping with that next to me every night!"

"Do we know anyone who could handle this safely and, preferably, also testify that it would be capable of controlling Varvur to the authorities?" I asked. "One of the high-level guild members, perhaps? They must work with dangerous magical items."

Come to think of it, maybe I should have thought about that before I set out to steal a statue from Hanarai's home...

Ajira was frowning. "Perhaps... Ajira's friend Edwinna, who is mistress of the Ald'ruhn guildhall... but Ajira has never heard Edwinna speak of anything such as this. She works with the Dwemer, mainly, and this is nothing like a Dwemer item."

How had she ever noticed? It wasn't as if not being made of metal was a dead give-away or anything.

"Or Folms Mirel, master of Caldera, who specialises in enchanting... but he can be," Ajira's whiskers twitched, "difficult to work with."

I was relatively certain that was an Ajira-euphemism for something, and equally certain I would rather not find out exactly what it was a euphemism for first-hand. "None of the other masters? Ranis Athrys?" I tried to imagine approaching our remote, superior head of guild for help and swallowed. "Right, no. There's Treb- no. Who's head of the Sadrith Mora guild?"

"I think we should go to the Temple with this," Varvur interrupted before Ajira could answer. "If those- if you really heard the things you said you did, Adryn-" I shot him a narrow-eyed glare at such slander against my honesty, which he rudely ignored- "then this would fall under their remit."

Ajira flinched. "Ah. The mention of Red Mountain, yes? And awakening?"

"I hope it's just coincidence," Varvur said, "or something playing on common fears, but if not..."

I looked back and forth between the two of them. "I'm missing something, aren't I."

Varvur raised an eyebrow. "Of course, you're an outlander, you wouldn't know." He sounded reproving, as though my ignorance of whatever piece of Morrowind-specific knowledge this was were my fault. "Well, it'd take too long to get into now-"

I sat bolt upright, the insult stiffening my spine. "Maybe for someone of your level of intelligence, yes. I hardly imagine it would take me nearly as long to grasp whatever you're talking about. And since I'm the one who actually went into that-" my mind sought and failed to find an appropriate descriptor, so I resorted to, "that- cellar, I think I have a right to know what you're talking about."

Varvur's eyebrows bunched together. He opened his mouth, no doubt about to launch some feeble offensive I would take great delight in tearing to shreds. However, Ajira got there first.

"I call for Saint Meris's peace! Surely we have enough to worry about without arguing?"

Both of us wilted under her stare. She must have learned it from dealing with Ma'Zajirr, because despite the fact that she was the youngest person in the room there was something indefinably parental about that look.

"Friend Adryn," Ajira continued, "the Temple holds there is a great evil sleeping beneath Red Mountain, an ancient foe of the Tribunal themselves, currently contained by the Ghostfence. Not everyone believes this-"

"-although the doubters have generally never actually been within the Ghostfence-"

"-if Ajira may continue? Thank you. The details as well as alternate theories put forth by organizations such as the Imperial Cult are not important right now and truly would take too long to get into." Ajira sounded faintly apologetic. "The important thing is that it is certain there is something at Red Mountain, something which is the source of both corprus and Blight, and it is a thing the Temple is very concerned about."

Source of Blight... Despite the fact that there was really nothing left in my stomach at this point, I still had to swallow back nausea as I remembered the guar the day before, along with the... objects... inside Hanarai's cellar.

"So you think this is connected. Right. Makes sense. I guess in that case," my lips twisted with distaste at the sentence I felt myself forced to utter, "Varvur has a point. About the Temple being the best place to go, I mean."

"Besides, they'd be far more likely to convince the Ald'ruhn judiciary than anyone from the Mages' Guild." Varvur was clearly unable to resist rubbing it in. Well, I supposed he had to make the most of those rare occasions when the stars and moons aligned such that he was right about something. I could be generous.

"This is also a point. The guild is not as... accepted here as we might want, friend Adryn." Before I could ask her what she meant by that, Ajira went on. "So Ajira supposes the question becomes: does anyone have contacts among the Temple one could bring this to?"

Silence.

"I suppose... we could try my cousin," Varvur said after a moment. He sounded rather hesitant. "Salyn Sarethi, he's a Buoyant Armiger. An Armiger would probably be the best person to contact about this � they're respected enough people will listen to them, initiated into enough of the Temple mysteries that they'll know if this thing is a known danger, but have enough independence that they can form their own judgement and investigate on their own. And Salyn is held in high honour even for an Armiger. Recently Lord Vivec himself rewarded him for his service by giving him Enamor, a glass dagger."

Wait a minute. Enamor?

Hadn't I seen something along those lines inscribed on the weapon I'd liberated from Allding earlier today? The weapon that so happened to be a glass dagger, in fact...

Surely it had to be coincidence. Where would that bumbling idiot have come by the thing?

Ajira frowned. "Ajira thinks he does not sound very keen on this plan."

Varvur sighed. "If I contact Salyn, I'm not sure whether he won't consider himself honour-bound to turn me in. And whether he'll just view all this as my trying to wriggle out of trouble. He... we don't get on very well. I just don't know who else to ask."

Suddenly, things slotted together in my head.

"I have an idea," I said. "Let's contact Ervesa. A Buoyant Armiger I know," I added for Varvur's benefit. "I don't know if she's as well-respected as your cousin, but she's an Armiger, and I think she'll listen to me. Besides..."

I paused, dredging up the memory. It had been only a brief snatch of conversation and I'd been distracted, but it had also only been a few days ago and close to events that were branded in my memory.

"I think she might have seen these before," I said slowly. "When I was in Suran with her, she spent a long time talking to the priestess at the Temple there. I remember that there was something wrong there, something that worried both of them and meant we couldn't stay the night. They talked about 'cleansing', and I think I heard them mention statues as well."

Varvur's mouth had fallen open, making him look like a particularly stupid goldfish. Ajira nodded. "That sounds like a very good plan, friend Adryn. Ajira forgot that you too have contacts in the Temple hierarchy."

"Right, I'll send a letter," I said. "She said I could reach her through the hall at Molag Mar." The candle on Ajira's table was definitely shorter than it had been when I arrived � we'd been at this for quite a while, and I'd already gotten back late. "I'm guessing the Courier's Guild won't still be open?"

Ajira shook her head. "They will reopen tomorrow at dawn. To Molag Mar... if we send the letter then and pay for express delivery, it should get there by midday."

"That's quick!" Trying to get a letter from one city to another in Skyrim could take weeks. "Do they use-"

Varvur's mouth finally closed. "You're friends with a Buoyant Armiger?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Well, yes. I just said so. Do keep up, will you?"

"But- but- you! A Buoyant Armiger!"

I turned to Ajira. "He's even less coherent than usual � did he get hit in the head at any point today? Get into your potions cupboard? Strain himself by attempting to count past ten without using his toes?"

At this point, I knew Ajira well enough to tell she was hiding a smile. "Ah � friend Adryn, I believe he is simply a little surprised."

Varvur let himself fall back in his chair, head dropping back. "The world is a strange and mysterious place," he told the ceiling.

"Are we decided on what to do, then?" I asked, ignoring Varvur. It was honestly a relief to have a solid course of action.

"It all sounds like a good plan, friend Adryn. There is only one thing Ajira can think of."

"Oh?" I tried to ignore my sinking feeling.

"What are we to do with the statue for now?"

Wow, so that glass dagger Adryn swiped has more than monetary significance it seems.

What a delightfully entertaining dialogue among these three as they weigh their options, and a plan burps, bubbles and finally coalesces to the surface. The three disparate personalities involved played off each other wonderfully. And, as ever, a delight to see it all through Adryn�s eyes and hear her running internal chatter.

Very nice candle-lighting spell. I love the little practical uses for magic.

What a gross and scary basement full of evidence for Adryn in 10.5. You shared the feelings very well.

FWIW, I love Adryn�s internal monologue. Her personality shines, and she is a quick thinker so she keeps the pace going.

Ah, always a delight when Adryn and Varvur start swiping at each other. Ajira is a treasure.

Aand Adryn has the glass dagger given as a reward by Lord Vivec? I�m sure no one has missed that.

*shuffles back in*

...I really have no idea why I've taken to having my break one installment before the end of the chapter. This one in particular was a terrible place to leave you all hanging for months! To make up for it, I'm back with more.

Last installment, Adryn had made it back to Ajira's place with one ash statue stolen from one exceedingly creepy basement. Adryn, Ajira and Varvur between them managed to agree on a plan: contact Ervesa, who as a Buoyant Armiger will hopefully be able to sort this mess out for them without Varvur landing in prison. (Adryn also discovered that she is apparently in possession of a glass dagger gifted by Vivec to one of his Armigers, but is attempting to deny that fact.) Then, Ajira brought up another point: what should they do with the statue now?



There was a long pause. Varvur looked puzzled, which fit with my general estimation of his intelligence. Unlike him, I'd realised what Ajira was getting at and was filled with slowly dawning horror.

"It is the biggest piece of evidence we have to prove the honoured Varvur Sarethi's innocence," Ajira went on. "So we must be careful not to lose it. And it sounds as if it would be far too dangerous to leave unwatched in any case, especially as neither Ajira nor friend Adryn have any places to safely store such an item. So someone must stay near it. And..."

"...and as far as we're aware, sleeping near this thing makes you kill people," I finished for Ajira. "Point taken. Point very much taken."

The next pause was even longer, and this time everyone involved looked equally horrified.

"Someone's going to have to keep watch on it overnight. Aren't they." I wished fiercely that Jamie had decided to stick around instead of swanning off to be a hero and rescue people from what sounded like their own folly. I was sure I'd have been able to make a solid case that guarding dangerous magical artifacts was right up her alley.

Varvur paled as he looked at the statue. "I... er. I suppose." He swallowed. "If it's necessary, I can... it would be the honourable thing to do..."

"Is that supposed to be an offer to take the thing?" I stared at him, incredulous. "Has Sheogorath touched your mind? You're the one who's succumbed to it. You're the last person who should be near it."

"No, friend Adryn." I looked at Ajira in surprise. Her ears were flattened to her head and I could see her tail bristling. "He is not quite the last person - that would be Ma'Zajirr. Ajira refuses to have that, that thing anywhere near him."

"Right. Well, the three of you are all staying here, so..." I groaned. "...I'm going to have to be the one to take it now, aren't I."

"Ajira- er. If it is necessary, Ajira could stay somewhere else tonight-" The reluctance in every syllable was palpable.

"No," I said, then swallowed. "No, it's all right. I... it's for the best I take it. Ma'Zajirr might need you, and- and I'm the only one who stays in the Guild overnight, after all. I can put it in a corner somewhere... hopefully if it's far enough away it won't affect me at all. And if, if worst comes to worst, I do fall asleep and it affects me, you said you had your statue for weeks before the black-outs started, right?" I asked Varvur.

He nodded. "The nightmares started right after I got it, but the first blackouts were at least two weeks later... I don't remember exactly, though."

"Right! So even if I do fall asleep - which I'm not going to! - I should be fine."

True, I wasn't looking forward to a sleepless night after a few blissful nights of good dreams (or at least dreams I could barely remember, which I figured amounted to the same thing at this point), but if worst came to worst, considering the level of experience I had in the area I considered myself well-equipped to fend off a few nightmares for a while.

But, said a nagging voice, what if I-

What if it Comma-

We wouldn't let it get that far in the first place, I told myself firmly. Not only was I well-practiced in staying up all night �€“ had been on a mostly nocturnal schedule up until I'd arrived in Morrowind, in fact �€“ but Varvur had lasted for weeks before the statue got the better of him. I'd pit my willpower against his any day.

"If friend Adryn is certain..." Ajira looked torn.

My nod was far more confident than I felt. "I am," I said. "I'll keep an eye on it overnight, and then-"

What then? It was unlikely Ervesa would get my message and come rushing over the very next day, and I had to sleep at some point.

"Ajira will come by the Mages' Guild early," Ajira took over. "She will keep watch on it during the day, while friend Adryn brings her letter to the Courier's Guild and returns to Ajira's home to sleep. She does not have Guild duties, after all, no one will insist she remains."

"Yes. That works. And Jamie will be back in a few days, which will make it easier to take shifts. And if- anything happens," my voice did not just shake, "or after a week we haven't heard back from Ervesa yet, we can think of something else."

I shifted, ready to stand up to leave, and felt something hard press into my waist. The hilt of the dagger I'd liberated from Allding.

The dagger which, much as I'd been trying to remember it otherwise, had Enamor engraved along the blade.

I had a fierce argument with myself in my head. It went along the lines of:

A gift from a god? Stealing one of those has never ended well for the thief across the entirety of mythology. I didn't think "but I didn't steal it directly!" was going to pass muster.

...but forty septims.

And since it was a gift from a god, Varvur's cousin was certain to have missed it already. I didn't want to bet on him not being able to track it to me, especially since there was no saying what kind of magic was on the thing.

...but forty septims.

In the end, it was the realisation that there was no way I could safely fence the thing more than anything else that decided me.

"Is there anything wrong, friend Adryn?"

"Not exactly. But..."

With a deep sigh for the sake of my lost fortune, I withdrew the dagger from where I'd tucked it into my shirt.

"...Varvur, does this look familiar?"



Late that night found me curled up in one of the chairs in the Mages' Guild main room with Antecedents of Dwemer Law. If I was going to stay up the entire night, I wanted something to occupy my thoughts.

My eyes flicked over to the other side of the room.

We'd wrapped the statue in a sack before I left, and I'd deposited it in the far corner of the sleeping alcove. Despite the book in my hands, I found I kept glancing over to the dark, flickering shadow it made in the candlelight.

This time as always, it was unchanged, and I scoffed at myself. What was I afraid of? Target for a Co- for a malignant spell, perhaps, but it was hardly going to get up and wander about.

In fact, from what Varvur had said he'd slept directly next to the thing. I couldn't imagine that a spell as complex as that had to be had a particularly great range. Most likely I was being over-cautious and it couldn't affect me all the way over here.

Not that I was planning to test that.

So far as concerns the influence of the Altmeri law upon our own, especially the Altmeri law of master and servant, the evidence of it is to be found in every judgment which has been recorded for the last five hundred years.

I yawned.

Maybe this book, dry as it was, had been a bad choice. I should've continued reading Ruins of Kemel-Ze instead, or picked up an alchemy book from Ajira, or one of the books on the local religion I'd bought from Jobasha on Ervesa's recommendation. I really didn't know why I hadn't thought of the last earlier, considering the mess we were in was apparently all tied up in religious matters. I supposed I could get up to get one now, but I was feeling so comfortable right here...

Concentrate, Adryn!

In the laws of Karndar Watch (P.D. 1180) it is said, "If one who is owned by another slays one who owns himself, the owner must pay the associates three fine instruments and the body of the one who his owned." There are many other similar citations. And the same principle is extended even to...

The words swam before my eyes. I blinked, trying to force them back into focus.

It was a little odd, come to think of it. I'd slept unusually well the previous two nights, and then the earlier revelation of Enamor had resulted in a furious argument (one that would probably still be occurring if Ma'Zajirr hadn't returned, prompting Ajira to threaten to toss both of us out on our ear). I'd stalked my way back to the Mages' Guild brimming with righteous fury �€“ sleep had been the furthest thing from my mind. Why was I so tired?

Then again, I'd had a very stressful day of it. The last few hours in particular I'd mainly spent running off nervous energy. No wonder that, given a chance to sit down and relax, everything was catching up with me.

My eyelids felt so heavy...

Something brushed my chin. I jerked upright, realising my head had fallen forward.

Reading clearly wasn't working. I needed to get up, walk around, wake myself up a little. I could maybe make myself a cup of hackle-lo tea in the kitchen...

Or a potion! An energising potion should keep me awake well enough. I didn't know why I hadn't thought of it earlier. I could get up and go over to the alchemy lab to fetch one.

I remembered thinking this chair was uncomfortable when I sat down earlier. Why? Now that I was settled it was perfectly cozy, soft (I must not have noticed the cushions), supporting me in just the right way.

Despite the fact that it wasn't even close to used up yet, the candle was guttering. Its flame shrunk and shrunk until all that was left was a tiny, flickering blue core, a mere spark in the gloom around me.

I needed to get up. I needed an energising potion, I needed to find a new candle, a more interesting book, I needed to stay awake-

The candle went out.

My limbs felt like lead. I'd get up in a minute, I promised myself. I was just going to rest my eyes for a moment...

The last thing I saw before falling asleep was a dull red glow from the far corner.



Next

Notes: See, instead of leaving you hanging in the middle of a scene I could have left you on that cliffhanger for six months! I'm deeply disappointed in myself, honestly.

The three do indeed come up with a reasonable plan, including contingencies.

Then Adryn settles down to babysit the statue. A potion to help her stay awake came to my thoughts early and I was pleased to see Adryn thinking along the same lines. I also figured the dry book would not help her stay awake.

You did a masterful job of gently transitioning her ‘normal-ish’ sleepiness in the reader’s mind into nagging doubts before you closed with the near certainty that the malignant statue was quite a bit more potent than Adryn had hoped. It seems its power more closely resembled that which she feared.

Nicely done!

@Acadian - thank you! The creeping feeling of "okay, so Adryn's tired... wait a moment..." was exactly what I was going for in that section. And I'm glad you approve of the three's plan, I always worry that I've overlooked some thoroughly obvious alternative (even if Adryn thinks this would be totally in-character for Varvur...)

Last chapter, Adryn set out to prove Varvur's innocence by investigating the matter of the strange statue he'd been given. She did not expect to end the day fleeing a cellar of horrors with a very similar statue tucked under her arm. Adryn, Ajira and Varvur decided to get in touch with Ervesa Romandas regarding what to do about the statue and keep an eye on it until then. Alas, they may have significantly underestimated its strength, as last we saw the statue had become active as Adryn was drawn into sleep despite herself...



"Thank you for agreeing to see me," Sotha Sil said, lowering himself into the chair.

"It was no problem. Anything to drink?"

Knowing Sil's habits as I did, I didn't wait for an answer before turning towards the bottles on the nearby shelf, which featured a wide selection of beverages for all sorts of visitors. I was already reaching towards the bottle of greef (a substance I personally considered more suited for scouring metal than ingestion, but proper hospitality does require some sacrifices) when, to my surprise, Sil shook his head.

"I need to rush off after this, I'm afraid," he said. "Although in all honesty, I don't think you'll feel much like chatting after this discussion."

Sil was never exactly what I'd call cheery, but even for him the expression on his face was more suited to a funeral than a visit to an erstwhile pupil and current friend. My spirits fell.

"All right. What is it?"

For a long moment, Sil said nothing, eyes boring into me.

Despite myself and despite the general gravity of the situation, I had to fight the urge to squirm. No mer on Nirn was quite so good at reducing me to feeling like an errant child as Sil, which was really quite a feat considering we only met when I was twenty. One expects that sort of thing from tribe elders, but coming from a mer who'd only ever known me as an adult it felt distinctly unfair. I wondered if I could lodge a complaint.

(Something was wrong.)

"I think," Sil finally said, "the Dwemer are up to something."

My first reaction was to scoff.

"Oh, the Dwemer are up to something. Believe me, I can't wait to hear what. Is it human sacrifice again? Another sneak attack to desecrate our tombs?" Centuries, I'd spent, trying to bring our peoples to friendship and having the Chimer fight me at every turn. By now, I could rattle off the litany of supposed Dwemer crimes in my sleep. "Are they kidnapping children? Plotting to corrupt our holy relics? Murdering-"

"Nerevar."

Sil's voice cut through mine, silencing me as immediately and thoroughly as though he'd used a spell.

"I would appreciate it if you'd remember who you are talking to."

Sil's tone was acidic, and I could feel heat rise in my cheeks.

It was true �€“ I'd let my impatience with the topic get the better of me. I knew better than to believe Sotha Sil, the one who'd taught me to see a problem from all sides instead of letting myself be blinded by my prejudices, the master wizard who frequently collaborated with Kagrenac, would bring me those tales.

I inhaled to speak, then broke off. All of a sudden the air was filled with a sickly sweet rotten stench, choking-

The smell was gone as if it had never been there, and Sil was still looking at me witheringly. I frowned, trying to bring my focus back on the current discussion. It was important, and Sil would have no patience for my distraction.

"I apologise, Sil," I said. "I've spent too much time talking to Hlaalu Tovas and Omayn Lleranu lately."

Sil accepted my apology with a stately nod and a sharp glance saying don't do it again. "As I was saying," he continued after a moment, "I believe the Dwemer are up to something. I've been treated unusually badly on all my visits of late, not by new guardsmen or children but by mer I've known for years �€“ mer who should know better. And they're being extremely secretive about whatever it is they're working on. Nothing," Sil emphasised, "they'll tell me nothing, after centuries of collaboration. It bodes ill, Nerevar."

Foreboding grew within me, quite distracting me from my overactive imagination. I tried to squash it, tried to tell myself this surely had an innocent explanation, but I could not quite force down the thought: is this the end?

Dumac was the closest friend I'd ever had, closer than Alandro Sul who was as good as my brother, closer than Voryn or Vivec or Sil, closer even than my own wife Almalexia. One of the cornerstones of that friendship was the knowledge that we might be forced to kill each other one day. We were both leaders of our peoples, our duty to them took precedence over our personal desires, and despite our best efforts the Chimer and Dwemer were not friends. If they went to war one day, Dumac and I would meet on opposite sides of a battlefield. For so long we had managed to placate the many factions who wanted to do away with our uneasy coexistence, four hundred years of peace, and now-

movement, out of the corner of my eye-

I jerked my head upwards, but when I fixed my gaze on the spot nothing was there. I blinked. I could have sworn I'd seen...

Apparently my mind had decided today was the best day to play tricks on me. At least Sil, still patiently waiting for me to pick up my part of the conversation, didn't seem to have noticed I was behaving strangely.

"How certain are you that it is serious?" I asked him, forcing my attention back on the current situation. "As opposed to something like �€“ some theoretical debate about the nature of the gods which they keep from you because they think it will deeply offend the Chimer, or some young experimentalist with a disregard for his own safety who is worried your disapproval will sink his entire project and has gone on preemptive attack?"

The latter was hardly unheard of �€“ after the incident during Hearthfire ten years ago, Sil would have to be senile to have forgotten young Yagrum Bagarn.

Sil grimaced. "I wish I could say it could be such a thing, but when the Dwemer stonewalled me I may have engaged in some... surreptitious investigation."

He glanced at me as though expecting my disapproval. Any I felt, I kept to myself. Four hundred years had taught me some of the necessities of politics, even if I still didn't like them.

"What I've found," he continued, "indicates they are on the verge of some major breakthrough �€“ the work is attributed to Kagrenac himself �€“ and the orders that the Chimer should not know come from the highest ranks. And I'm not the only one who's noticed the Dwemer behaving strangely, either. Voryn's mentioned similar things."

"He has?" Another blow to my hope that this would prove unfounded. Like Sil and me, Voryn was one of the few Chimer who worked closely with the Dwemer. Unlike us, his main contacts were among warriors and merchants. If both Sil and Voryn had noticed something odd... "What did he say, exactly?"

Sil opened his mouth in reply and said:

(join us in the flesh join us beneath Red Mountain-
the sleeper wakes-
Dagoth Ur does not want you here! )

I blinked. Had I drifted off for a moment?

"I'm sorry, Sil, I didn't catch that."

"I was saying, I decided this is serious enough that we shouldn't risk its being distorted through second-hand tales. I asked Voryn to meet me here in order to tell you directly. In fact, I think that's him now," he said, glancing over my shoulder...

Something was wrong.

Sil's mouth continued moving, but his voice faded away until all I could hear was a roaring in my ears. Our surroundings wavered like a mirage, as though everything, from the walls and furnishings to the report bearing Vivec's signature on my desk, were an illusion on the verge of collapse. I shot up from my chair-

Except there was no chair, there was no room, it was only bloody fog surrounding Sotha Sil as he stood before me, my teacher as he'd looked all the long years I'd known him-

-a mer with golden skin but eyes and hair too dark to be an Altmer, looking at me sadly, looking at me with recognition as his skin darkened and his eyes became flame and shadows began to grasp at us, a mer who looked so very familiar except I'd never seen him before in my life-

What colour were my hands?

The question burst into my mind, nonsensical as it was �€“ obviously my hands were just as they'd always been, which meant-

(gold-

grey-)

Claws dug into my shoulder from behind.

"Found you."

I woke screaming.



Next

Sorry for the delay, all - I got a little sidetracked with work (bah!) and writing events that occur three chapters down the line. Short update this time, but really I should probably work on getting the posted work caught up a little.

Last installment, Adryn had a nightmare. Or maybe it was Nerevar. Or maybe that confusion was one of the problems...



Once I'd managed to stop screaming, I decided it was in truth rather embarrassing. At this point, the amount of experience I had with nightmares was actually quite depressing if you chose to think about it (I generally didn't). You could even call me something of a connoisseur. And I'd endeavoured to train myself out of the more unsightly reactions to them - screaming being at the very top of that list, and one I'd had made quite a satisfying amount of progress with. I hadn't reacted to a dream like that in years. And all it took for me to break that pattern was a dream of someone touching my shoulder and saying found you?

That voice.

The rest of the dream was already gone, vanishing the moment I was fully awake like all the dreams I'd had recently, but the end remained dreadfully clear. That voice like a knife stabbing straight into my brain, terrifying and inhuman and, worst of all, triumphant. Triumphant like someone who'd achieved his heart's desire, like a scholar who'd destroyed his bittermost rival or a general who'd just won his war... triumphant like someone who had spent a very, very long time indeed looking for me.

And that hand- it had come from out of nowhere, gripping my shoulder like a vise. I swore I could still feel it there, claw-tipped fingers digging into my skin, feel scalding breath blowing into my ear-

I forced myself to take slow, deep breaths, let my own hands relax from where they'd clenched on the chair's armrests. Then I reached for the candle on the table.

It took me two tries to get the fire spell to work, then two more until my hand stopped shaking long enough for me to pinch the wick of the candle. Finally, it flared into life and cast soft, reassuring light onto my surroundings.

Yes, this was definitely the Mages' Guild common area. I'd fallen asleep in my chair despite everything, but I was awake now. Awake, alone, everything was as it had been when I went to-

My blood froze in my veins.

The statue was sitting on the table next to me.

But- but I'd put it away. I'd wrapped it in a sack, left that on the opposite side of the room-

A quick glance to that area showed the sack right where I'd left it. I ascertained that it now looked crumpled and empty before I realised with a jolt that it probably wasn't a good idea to take my eyes off the statue.

It was still on the table, where it would have been only feet away from my head while I slept. I could swear it was smiling at me-

Wait.

The hair on the back on my neck stood up.

It... it was smiling at me. The lips of that demonic face were unmistakeably curved upwards.

But surely - surely it hadn't looked like that earlier? I'd studied it, I knew I had, wanting to memorise how it looked. I remembered how my skin had crawled at its empty stare, its emotionless visage. Were my eyes playing tricks on me?

The chair fell back with a clatter as I shot up and back, eyes fixed on the statue as if it were a striking cobra. Frankly, I'd rather have had the striking cobra.

The statue didn't move.

Plastered against the wall, I didn't either.

I might have nodded off despite myself earlier, but one thing was for sure �€“ I was definitely not getting any more sleep this night. And I suspected it would be a very, very long one.

*****

MORROWIND COURIERS GUILD

RECEIVED AT: Balmora GH, VF
HOUR: 1st
DATE: 26 HF 427
SENDER: Adryn
ORIGIN: Mages Guild, Balmora, VF
RECIPIENT: Ervesa Romandas
DESTINATION: Armiger Stronghold, Molag Mar, VF
DELIVERY: EX (g.g. S.M., A.I.)
PAYMENT: 0S 30D
(X) received
( ) pending

[written in a steady, neat hand]

Dear Ervesa,

First, thank you so much for the flowers! My friend Ajira and I made much of them. In particular, we made Feather and Frost Shield potions, along with some draughts to cure disease and to restore strength - so the thanks I convey are not just on my own behalf, but also on Ajira's and the Balmora Mages' Guild alchemy shop. As for the amulet, you're correct that I am not much of an adventurer (how did you ever guess?). However, it has come in unexpectedly handy, and I owe you a great deal of thanks for that as well.

With how much how you've already helped me, I feel awkward asking you for more. However, I don't know who else to turn to.

I've recently come into possession of a strange statue. It's around a foot tall, made out of an odd red material I can't identify and depicts some sort of horned demon. We believe this statue may be linked to [several words are crossed out] involuntary behaviour, perhaps a sort of focus for a Command spell? In any case the thing seems... unholy, and as for the place I found it - well, I'd rather not describe that in a letter, but suffice it to say 'unholy' is a mild description.

If you have any ideas regarding this or a suggestion for what to do about it, I would very much appreciate it if you could get in touch with me. I'm a little worried about keeping this thing with me.

Adryn

[added later. The same handwriting as before, this time hurried and uneven]

P.S. Please come as soon as possible it is urgent!!



Next

Last installment, Adryn woke from a very disturbing dream to an even more disturbing reality. Faced with proof that the statue they'd recovered from Hanarai Assutlanipal's home was even more dangerous - and, for that matter, mobile - than they'd thought, the letter to Ervesa ended up rather more urgent than expected. Now, Adryn tries to recover from her shock in the Mages' Guild...



"More tea?"

"No, but thank you." I waved the worried Ajira away. She meant well, but the amount of tea she'd already gotten me to consume had left me trembling from the stimulants.

Well, I thought ruefully, at least the trembling was partially due to the stimulants.

"Something to eat, then? Ajira could run over to the baker's and get more rolls... or perhaps friend Adryn could use a potion! Rejuvenating? Magicka restoring? Healing? Fortifying willpower or perhaps fatigue? Friend Adryn need only say what she would like, and Ajira will-"

"Ajira!" I broke in. "I appreciate it, really, but I don't need anything. I promise." I tried to smile at her. Judging by her expression, it didn't work very well. "I just want to sit down for a bit. You should get back to the alchemy desk. I'm sure you've got customers waiting."

"Ajira thinks learning a little patience will do them good."

This smile came easier. "I agree, but I don't think our guildmistress does."

Teleportation Girl had wandered off for about half an hour while we were working yesterday morning, the result being that not only I but probably everyone within two hundred feet of the guild hall when she came back overheard Ranis Athrys' opinions regarding 'abandoning one's post'.

Ajira huffed a sigh - as another witness to said explosion she was clearly unable to argue that point. "Very well. But," she fixed me with a gimlet eye, "if friend Adryn should need anything - anything at all - she need only say, and Ajira will do whatever she can to help."

"I know. And I do appreciate it, I just don't need anything right now and I don't want you to get in trouble with Ranis Athrys because you were hovering."

"Ajira supposes that makes sense. Very well." After two steps back toward her workstation, Ajira stopped and turned back. "Ajira will be just over here, at the desk or in the alchemy lab-"

"Are you a Khajiit or a mother hen? Go on, shoo!"

Finally, Ajira shooed.

Reluctantly.

I shook my head once she'd left, leaning back in the seat I'd claimed at the little table in the guildhall kitchen. I couldn't blame Ajira for being worried about me considering the scene she'd walked in on earlier, but she'd really gone overboard on the fussing.

Still, she'd been a lifesaver that morning. Not only had she managed to calm me down from the state of intense panic I'd spent most of the night in, she'd volunteered to keep an eye on the statue during the day... a process that included fending off Teleportation Girl's questions about why, exactly, we'd wrapped a sack in rope and tied it to a table in the alchemy lab using the toughest knots both of us knew.

The statue had given no sign of movement or engaged in any other un-statue-like behaviour during the whole process. My opinion was that it was trying to lull us into a false sense of security.

I looked at my hands. Still shaking, but much less than earlier. Despite our original plan, I couldn't possibly imagine trying to sleep this morning, but perhaps in a bit of time my hands would be steady enough that I could go work in the lab. Ajira would be much happier to have me under her eye, I'd be happier to have that statue under my own, and brewing potions always calmed me down-

"Ah �€“ there you are you, Adryn. I was just looking for you."

The sentiment echoed that from my nightmare. I jerked upright, found you echoing in my ears.

Ranis Athrys frowned at me from the entrance to the kitchen area.

"Oh. Guildmistress. I'm sorry, you... you startled me." I sank back into my chair.

"Clearly." Ranis' voice was dry.

"What- I- what can I do for you?" My heart, which had been doing its level best to thump its way free from my ribcage, started to slow down again.

"Well, I was hoping we could have a word." Ranis sat down across from me. After a brief pause during which she looked at me meaningfully, I realised she was expecting me to serve her tea and got up to fetch her mug.

"I've spoken to Ajira, and she's been very pleased with your work," she said, watching me nearly drop the mug. "Said you've been extremely helpful to her in her research. And I've also had word from Malven Romori in Vivec commending your willingness. All things told, it is clear you are ready to devote your time to guild duties. As a result, it is my pleasure to inform you that as of today, you are now an Apprentice of the Mages' Guild."

"...Thank you?" I honestly didn't care much about my rank in the guild. Still, I could tell that Ranis was expecting something more. "I'm, er, honoured, considering that it's been such a short time- sorry!" I'd just managed to pour tea all over the table. "Let me get that-"

Ranis sniffed and waved her hand over the spill. Red magicka followed it; the tea vanished in a puff of steam.

"Being promoted to Apprentice isn't a matter of skill, you must understand," she said, watching with clear skepticism as I gave the whole 'serving tea' thing a second try. I clenched my teeth and willed my hands to still. "Rather, it is one of... mm... dedication. Associates are those who may be willing to fetch an item here or guard an expedition there, but who are not willing to commit any further. Their number includes those �€“ and there are many - who join the guild for the services only and have no appreciation for true scholarship.

"It is clear that you are not one such, and so you are an Apprentice. Journeyman, now," Ranis eyed me sternly, "that promotion will require skill, scholarship, and history with the guild. Do not expect it anytime soon."

"Yes!" I grinned in triumph as my second attempt at pouring tea succeeded with not a drop going to the wrong place. "Er, I mean - I don't mind, really. I'm just happy to be a member of the guild- ma'am." The honourific was hastily tacked on to butter up Ranis.

Judging by her deep frown, it didn't work. Well, perhaps she was one of those people for whom rank and hierarchy is of utmost importance and who simply don't understand it if you don't care. I'd met those before and it had always been a case of deep, mutual incomprehension.

"In any case, as an Apprentice you are expected to be more heavily involved with the guild." Ranis took a sip of her tea, grimaced, and lifted her other hand to the mug as well. Once again magicka sparked, followed by steam rising from the cup. I watched with interest and some level of envy. Apprentice, Associate, Journeyman, who cared - I wanted to learn how to reheat tea like that. "You will be granted a stipend as well as permission to stay in guild hall accommodation indefinitely - for Associates, there is a time limit of ten days - but you should be spending most of your time on guild duties."

Was that a so why are you sitting around here drinking - or not drinking - tea? Just in case, I said, "I was about to go help Ajira, brew some potions or-" I shuddered at the thought, "man the alchemy desk-"

"No, no, that won't do at all." Ranis was smiling as she dismissed my greatest skill and passion. It was not a comforting expression. "We really don't have need of an additional person working on alchemy in any of the guilds. Here in Balmora, the work is such that Ajira should be perfectly capable of it alone."

I blinked.

Seriously?

Even in the few days I'd actually managed to spend at the guild, I'd seen Ajira caught in the conundrum that her duties included selling potions to customers and replenishing the supply and doing research and writing reports on her findings, which meant that she was generally supposed to be doing three things at once. Hardly a wonder she'd been deeply grateful for my help - and now Ranis was saying that it wasn't necessary?

"But-" I began to protest.

"Are you interrupting me, apprentice?" Ranis' words were soft and deadly. I realised with a jolt I didn't know what other Destruction magic she was capable of.

"...No, ma'am." My voice was tiny.

"Keep it that way. Now, as I was saying, I really cannot justify your presence at the alchemy desk. However, the amount of work Galbedir is faced with is frequently too much for one person - I've been thinking about finding another enchanter. I'd like you to work as her assistant from now on."

Apparently taking my expression of sheer, dumbstruck horror as agreement, Ranis nodded. "Wonderful. I'm glad we had this discussion. Now, I have some duties to perform. I expect to see you working with Galbedir by the time I'm finished. Understood?"

I really wished I hadn't.



Next

Oh my. What a terrifying nightmare (?)! I almost jumped out of my own chair as the voice belonging to one with clawed fingers said, “Found you!”

Answers can’t come fast enough regarding that creepy statue!

Aww, Ajira is such a mother hen – in a good way. The Guildmagister? Not so much. Poor Adryn, all she wants to do is help Ajira make potions and learn how to heat tea with her fingers. Assistant to Galbidir? Apprentice? Enchanting.

As ever, I love how you keep the story flowing smoothly without restraining Adryn’s internal and wonderfully whimiscal internal dialog.

Notes: General apologies for flakiness you know the drill by now...

@Acadian - Very belated thank you for your comment! I really appreciate knowing that the dream sequence and in particular the sudden appearance of Mysterious Voice With Claws was scary, I really wanted that to be properly terrifying but as I don't write horror much I wasn't sure how well I'd succeeded!

Last installment, Adryn had been taking it easy in the Mages' Guild after a very disturbing dream... unfortunately for her, Ranis was not on board with plan relaxation and assigned Adryn a task. The task? Go be Galbedir's apprentice in enchanting. This is sure to go swimmingly...



Galbedir was, if anything, even less happy about this new arrangement than I was.

"Are you kidding me? Unlike our so-called alchemist, I'm perfectly able to do my job. I don't need an assistant - let alone you." Scorn dripped from her voice.

Not reacting to the slight against Ajira took a concerted effort of will. "Well, I suggest you take that up with our guildmistress," I pointed out instead. A quick glance down the stairwell showed that Ranis wasn't in her office, so I felt it was safe to add, "I don't particularly want to be here either."

Especially since that statue was still downstairs. Unfortunate indeed that Ranis hadn't been willing to listen to objections, even if I had been able to figure out how to phrase we're aiding someone wanted for murder and so we brought some sort of demonic possibly-alive statue into the guild without telling anyone and it gives people nightmares and Controls them and is apparently able to move and I'd rather like to keep it within sight without getting thrown out of the guild, possibly bodily. I reminded myself firmly that Ajira was on top of the situation and I had other problems that demanded my focus right now.

"Ask her to let you keep messing around with that Khajiit? Not going to work," Galbedir predicted with an long-suffering air. After shooting a similar glance at the open door at the foot of the stairwell, she went on. "Ranis has done this before - I think she likes testing people. Weeding out the ones who won't follow her orders, even when those orders make no sense."

"What, has she been taking tips from Trebonius?"

A laugh escaped Galbedir �€“ I wasn't sure which of us was more surprised. "Trebonius? Let me guess - what did he ask you to do?"

"Solve the mystery of the Dwemer." I shrugged.

"Solve the- he's surpassing himself, I see. All he asked me to do was recreate Azura's Star. Ludicrous, of course, and he still asks me how I'm progressing anytime I'm in Vivec! I suppose I can be grateful it was at least related to my actual area of research." Galbedir shook her head, sending blonde braids flying.

"Malven Romori wants me to start studying the Dwemer," I said carefully. "Something about at least appearing to respect the head of the guild. Do you think I could get Ranis to relent that way?"

"Hmm... not very likely," Galbedir judged. "She doesn't like Malven, claims she's taking on responsibilities and privileges beyond her station. I think Malven deserves every privilege and more for stepping up to try to keep order in Vivec, but Ranis can get very particular when it comes to rank. So telling her wouldn't help you. Probably better to keep your head down and tough it out until Ranis decides she's made whatever point she's trying to make with this nonsense." Galbedir grimaced.

So it sounded as if I was stuck with this duty for now. At least Galbedir was now looking at me with slightly less contempt, which I hoped would make our temporary (please be temporary) partnership somewhat more bearable.

"Well, let's get to it. Here, watch." Galbedir hefted a silver dagger lying on the table, "I have a contract from Wayn over at the Fighters Guild to give this a medium-strength fire damage enchantment. Pretty straightforward. I'm going to use this soul gem here, a common gem containing a betty netch's soul-"

I gulped. "Do you actually enchant using souls?"

It was a question I'd always wondered about and never gotten a clear answer to, something which had never seemed quite so pressing. Ranis or no Ranis, I wasn't sure I could bring myself to bind some poor animal's soul to a weapon to eternally serve as some kind of reservoir for magicka.

Galbedir took a deep breath before answering. "Well- the answer is yes and no. Yes, in that this," she tapped the glimmering gem, "does contain a netch's soul. No, in that the soul is released to Aetherius when we use the gem to enchant something. What we're really after and what will go into the blade is the creature's life energy and magicka. The soul being trapped is more of a... temporary byproduct of storing it until the actual process of enchanting, and I know people have tried and are trying to find a way to capture only the life energy and magicka from the start. No results yet, though."

That explanation cleared up some of the more muddled things I'd read about enchanting. One thing definitely stood out to me, waking my curiosity even through all the other worries on my mind. "Really? I'd have thought it'd be more difficult to capture a creature's soul than its life energy. Do you know why it's easier to capture the soul? Is it something to do with the Dreamsleeve, maybe?"

Galbedir blinked at me, clearly taken aback. "You'd have to ask Folms Mirel, over in Caldera - he's interested in the theory. Honestly, I don't know that much about this myself. I'm more into the practical side of things."

I nodded, making a mental note of the name. "I suppose at least you don't bind the souls into the enchanted object." That had been my main worry, after all.

"We don't," Galbedir agreed. "There are ways of using a soul gem to fix a soul in the world - the classic example is necromancy, using one to create undead - but outside of Temple ceremonies that's a serious crime and nothing I deal with. Especially when it comes to the souls of people."

"What do you mean by Temple ceremonies?" Every answer seemed to throw up more questions.

Galbedir groaned. "To understand that, you'd have to talk to a priest. Balmora Temple has some quite friendly ones, I'm told. It's certainly nothing to do with what I do." She took a deep breath. "Look, if you want to look into the theory and that sort of thing, I suggest you do it in your own time. For now, I'd like to get this dagger enchanted, because Ranis may have assigned you to work with me but she certainly hasn't reduced my workload any to accommodate teaching. So if you just watch - quietly - I'll tell you what I do."

"All right," I said, feeling slightly sheepish. I supposed I had been asking rather a lot of questions.

Galbedir relaxed. "Good. Now, in order to enchant this dagger..."

*****

Once we left the topic of the theory of enchanting, Galbedir turned out to be quite a good teacher (judging by my attempts with Gelduin a few days ago, certainly far better than me). Not only was her explanation of the different steps involved in the process of enchantment very clear, she also went into detail about the spells the Mages' Guild had developed to keep a soul gem from being destroyed if the enchantment failed.

"See, most of the time people will simply teach you how to transfer the energy over from the soul gem to the object you're trying to enchant. But if you do it that way, if you screw up forming the spell in the object - and you will, especially when it comes to more powerful spells or ones with multiple effects - the energy goes into the ether, the soul heads into Aetherius and you're left with nothing. A few hundred years ago, someone in the guild figured out a way of anchoring the soul to the gem while you work, so that if something goes awry everything just gets sucked back into the soul gem. I hear in Cyrodiil they've got fancy altars to do that for them," Galbedir's lip curled, "but out in the provinces we've got to do it ourselves. Makes the whole thing more complicated, but means you can try again after you fail. See, I need to spread magicka across the surface of the crystal, starting at the vertex closest to the spell's entry point and then following an Ealarian circuit-"

Galbedir's exact explanation for how one was supposed to form one's magicka was rather more difficult to follow, not helped by the fact that I was really too exhausted for all this right now. Thankfully, I hit on the idea of using my Detection spell. Tuned to magicka rather than to living beings and set to a very short range, it allowed me to "see" the magical net Galbedir wove through the soul gem, then the way she formed what I could only think of as instructions for a fire spell within the silver dagger-

"-you have to write your spell schematic inside the object's magical matrix. More powerful or more complicated spells need a longer schematic, so for those you need objects with a denser matrix and many simplices to inscribe the schematic. Gemstones will do well for rings or amulets. For weapons, silver is best �€“ well, Daedric really, followed by ebony and glass, but since you're not likely to ever clap your eyes on any of those-"

-and finally, how she created a magical channel between soul gem and dagger. Power leapt along it like lightning, roaring into the weapon. There it was drawn into the spell Galbedir set as though the lightning were following metal rods. Finally, when all the power had left the soul gem and the dagger fairly blazed with magicka, the magical net around the gem dissolved. I almost thought I could feel something break free-

Then my spell ended. With my regular eyes, I watched as the soul gem abruptly shattered.

"I wish we could reuse them," Galbedir muttered. Sweat stood out on her forehead, but her fingers were sure and untrembling as she swept the dust that was all that remained into a wastebasket. "At least this one did what it was supposed to."

Indeed, the dagger glimmered with enchantment. I watched as Galbedir dropped a scrap of parchment on the blade, unsurprised when it burst into flame. Galbedir nodded in satisfaction, then set the dagger aside.

"Well, that's that order. Now, I need to make some scrolls, and those are finicky - you'd need to be journeyman-level in enchanting at least to have a chance." Galbedir paused for a moment. "Tell you what, I have a few petty souls lying around, as well as some cheap jewellery. Things I'd usually use for a charm for the commoners, not worth more than a few drakes." She sniffed, evidently at the thought of commoners. "Not particularly important if you ruin them, in any case. Why don't you give it a try?"

Not exactly a ringing endorsement. But Galbedir's contemptuous attitude towards 'commoners' had caused my old antipathy to resurge, and I was worried I was going to say something I'd regret if I was around her much longer. So I just nodded my acceptance and took the small, glimmering gems Galbedir handed to me.

Time to see if I made a decent enchanter.



Next

Notes: Looots of magi-technical babble in this one...

This explanation of how soul gems and enchanting work in Adrynverse is apparently contrary to things we've learned in Skyrim and ESO (e.g. the Soul Cairn). Oh well! I did a lot of the plotting out of SitC years ago, well before those games came out, and although I'm happy to take Skyrim and TESO lore into account when I can (Skyrim in particular has been something of a treasure trove for Adryn's backstory), at the end of the day it's a Morrowind story and if I have to ignore a piece of later lore to make the story work I will. I had to move away from it in this case in order to make enchanting a palatable art and to make it something Adryn would be willing to touch. I hope people like my compromise.

(It's not 100% a departure from canon as it's almost certainly possible to create an enchantment via binding the soul even in Adrynverse. Galbedir hasn't mentioned it because she doesn't work that way and also it's really illegal.)

Also, I'm making shameless use of my educational background to come up with the technical babble. Cookies to anyone who knows what an Ealarian circuit is when it's at home.

I always get them confused with the Hamiltonian variety. (And it's Eulerian - was your spelling just it to make it hard to Google?)

Cookie awarded!

I get the two confused too, I admit! And the spelling was an attempt at TES-ifying the name - "Euler" doesn't sound very Tamrielic to me, but "Ealar" could be an Altmer.

Your explanation of enchanting strikes me as completely plausible- and makes my characters who make use of it feel much better. I think it also provides some depth to the concept of black soul gems.

Adryn is a treat, as ever, especially watching her and Galbedir circle each other like two strange cats...

So glad you are continuing to write Adryn's excellent story.

@treydog - Trey!! I'm so happy to see you back in this thread, thanks so much for your comment! And I have no intention of giving up on writing Adryn ever, even though I sometimes do look at the mountain of plot I still have before me with dismay. Let's remember that at this point she's still only been on the island for one week... ha ha... ha...

I'm glad you liked the soul gem explanation! It's much like you say - if it was really a matter of "you eternally bind this creature's soul to this artifact" I feel like there'd be more of a pushback against enchanting/enchanters, people refusing to use soul gems or enchanting, etc., instead of the general acceptance we see. At the same time, I didn't want to remove the soul from the process completely. This was the compromise. I'm still mulling over black vs ordinary soul gems in this setting, and you may get more detail on them later.

Anyway! Glad you're liking the Adryn and Galbedir show, as it's going to continue for a bit.

Last installment, Adryn got a crash-course in enchanting from Galbedir. We left off as she prepared to turn theory into practice. Now, let's see how she's been getting on...



I went through quite a few of the soul gems until I worked out how to create Galbedir's net. It was an eerie sensation, laying my magicka across the crystal and feeling something flutter against it, like butterfly wings beating against a veil. I ended up silently repeating what Galbedir had told me about souls and enchanting - in particular, that the soul was released on a successful enchantment - to myself several times before I could convince myself to continue.

And once I'd gathered my determination, I faced the most difficult part of the task Galbedir had set me: the actual enchanting.

Several hours later, I'd nearly drained my magicka again, my stomach was growling, and there was quite a pile of newly-enchanted scrolls in front of Galbedir. I'd nearly given in to the temptation to ask her for help once or twice, but my dislike of her, along with her look of utter concentration, had given me pause.

Well, in the end I'd managed perfectly well on my own, hadn't I?

I looked at the bracelet I held with pride. The cheap gilt now glimmered with magicka, and it only took a touch of power to read the Rainshield spell I'd embedded into the object.

In truth, I'd wanted to enchant the bracelet with my Detection spell. I most certainly hadn't forgotten what Gelduin had told me - "people will pay large amounts of money for your knowledge" is the kind of thing that tends to stay with you - and as I worked, I'd hit on the idea that enchanting an object might be a good way to circumvent my teaching abilities, or rather the lack thereof. However, I hadn't been able to get the magic to hold in the bracelet at all. My guess had been that it was too complicated for me, or perhaps that the cheap bracelet didn't have enough "simplices" – whatever those were – to hold the spell. In the end I'd opted for the far simpler and, I'd argue, at least as useful spell I'd learned in Vivec.

"Hmm." Galbedir had come up behind me and was looking at the bracelet. "Not bad," she said, sounding grudging. "Really, not bad. You may have a knack for this."

I blinked. "Seriously? But I destroyed, what, six of the soul gems before I caught on-"

"-and a lot of people never manage that spell. Six is... good. As is getting off a successful enchantment only hours in." Galbedir shook her head. "If that wasn't a fluke, Ranis may have had a good idea here after all."

That sounded worrying. "I thought we were just going to go with this until she reconsidered and let me work with Ajira again?" I pointed out.

"That was the plan, but... enchantment's a rare talent, you know. Far rarer and far more lucrative than alchemy." The contempt in Galbedir's voice was palpable.

I had to admit that that was almost certainly true. Nine knew that in my former career I'd often found myself frequenting enchanter's shops and homes in the interest of... ensuring a fair and equal distribution of wealth in modern society, shall we say. Enchanters were relatively likely to own rich robes, extravagantly expensive jewellery, safeboxes full of septims, and similar items that positively called out for a visit from concerned citizens like myself.

In comparison, alchemists only rarely demanded such a balancing of the scales. The few alchemists one did find rubbing shoulders with enchanters, generally by providing potions to the rich, were almost always in possession of proof they have more money than brains – more commonly known as an accreditation in alchemy from the Arcane University. Needless to say, I wasn't going to be boasting one anytime soon.

No, Galbedir was right – all in all, enchanting was a far more profitable business.

And yet...

"But I want to do alchemy." My voice was tiny.

Alchemy had drawn me as long as I could remember. There was something awe-inspiring about the fact that you could create powerful potions from simple, everyday things like flowers and mushrooms and even common foodstuffs. And it was so fascinating, experimenting with the ingredients to try and unlock their secrets, learning the skills you needed to adjust a potion's duration, strengthen one effect or weaken another, balance out toxins to make sure it was safe to consume - all the many tricks any good alchemist had to develop.

True, enchantment might well have such secrets of its own. Enchanting might be a lucrative undertaking, an enchanter might well be more respected than the common alchemist. All the same...

I remembered the whisper of a creature's soul held between my hands, the feel of its futile struggle against the gem that trapped it...

The gem, and my magicka, wrapped around it like strangling vines.

I'd rather brew the most noxious, volatile potion, one with fumes that nearly knocked you out and a tendency to explode if you stirred it just a moment too long or in the wrong direction, than work with that on a regular basis.

"I'm trying to help you, you know," Galbedir snapped. "Y'ffre only knows why, considering how you've been joined at the hip with that Khajiit since arriving. But when Ranis gave you the assignment, I thought that maybe you'd turn out to be some use once away from that little coward's influence-"

So we were going to have the argument we'd been so carefully avoiding after all.

"Ajira is my friend," I retorted. "She's been nothing but good to me and done nothing but help me, even when doing so put her in danger." The thought of Ajira right now, hiding a fugitive just because I'd asked her to, stoked the flames of my anger. "I don't see where you get off calling her a coward!"

Galbedir's laugh was scornful and disbelieving. "Seriously? You should know better than anyone else. Wasn't it you she sent out to collect flowers for her? I heard you got attacked by a kagouti because your precious Ajira was too afraid to perform her own duties."

My fists clenched. It was true that I'd once found Ajira's insistence on sending someone else to gather her ingredients strange myself, but now that I knew the reason behind it that only made me angrier. "What do you know about it? Besides," a flash of memory, "collecting ingredients is the duty of an apothecary, not an alchemist. Ordinarily, Ajira wouldn't be expected to go out and gather them herself... except that you stopped her suppliers, didn't you?"

The smug grin spreading across Galbedir's features made it clear I'd guessed right. For a brief moment, I found myself wishing I'd given in to impulse when I discovered the grand soul gem last week. The loss of some valuable items would take Galbedir down some much-needed pegs.

"I thought she should be taught a lesson about the world. It's cowardly and childish, sitting safely at home and expecting others to go into danger to get what you need. I collect all my own souls, you know."

Even the grand soul? I gulped, suddenly glad I hadn't given in to my larcenous impulses. Anyone who could take down a Daedra on that order was not someone I wanted to tangle with, thank you very much.

"Although..." Galbedir looked as if she'd had a spark of inspiration. I didn't like that expression at all. "Since you're so insistent that it's absolutely fine for Ajira to sit back on her lazy tail and send you or that Jamie to do her work for her, I'm sure you won't mind if I do the same." She gestured towards the pile of powder that had resulted from my earlier efforts. "You've rather depleted my supply of petty souls. Why don't you go out and replenish it? Since you're fine with running those sorts of errands."

"...replenish?" Surely, she didn't mean...

"Go out with some empty gems and trap some souls. Rats, scribs, mudcrabs and kwama foragers all fit into the petty gems. There's an egg mine just south of Balmora, you should be able to find some scribs and foragers near there, or you could take the guild guide to Vivec and hunt some crabs on the shore-"

The idea of returning to Vivec after what had happened last time was worth heavy protest in its own right, but astonishingly, that wasn't my main problem with this suggestion. "You mean... you want me to kill them?" I was almost certain that was what she meant, but found myself desperately hoping I'd got it wrong anyway.

Galbedir gave me an are you sure you weren't dropped on your head as a child? look. I recognised it because I'd spent quite a bit of time over the last few days giving Varvur the same. Having it directed against me smarted. "Of course, kill them! What, do you honestly think you can trap the soul of a creature that's still alive?"

"No," I said weakly. "It's just that..."

That I didn't particulary want to kill some animal that hadn't done anything to me, for one thing, but there was more glaring problem with Galbedir's course of action.

Galbedir apparently followed my meaning, because her eyes narrowed. "Now you're the one being a coward. None of these creatures are even remotely dangerous - mudcrabs are so slow a sleepwalker could outrun them, and scribs are almost tame. The measliest fire spell will put paid to them."

Not even remotely dangerous? Perhaps it was only to be expected that a Daedra slayer would have a rather skewed viewpoint of these things - needless to say, this did not at all fit with my experience of rats on this island. And true, mudcrabs were easy to outdistance, but their pincers looked strong enough I'd still rather not put myself into a position where I had to.

And that didn't even take into account even less harmless wildlife that might be around, such as cliff-racers, wild guar or kagouti, other hazards like naked Nords and their witches, never to mention, oh, the Blight.

"Are you sure you're feeling quite all right?" I asked. "Because I understand that experiences differ, but what you're describing is nowhere near any semblance of reality as I know it. Do you have a fever, maybe? Any hallucinations?"

"Fine," Galbedir said. She was still smiling despite my rejoinder. I had an awful sinking feeling. "I understand completely. It's not an appropriate task at all, is it? It seems you agree with me that this sort of thing is inappropriate to delegate to other guild members. I've been thinking of making a complaint to the guildmistress about Ajira's abuse of her position - I'm sure you'll sign off on it, then?"

I swallowed hard.

Galbedir had trapped me between a rock and a hard place. Either I agreed to go out hunting souls for her (I wasn't sure whether the hunting or the souls was the more distasteful part of that sentence), or she used my unwillingness to do so against Ajira. There was no way I could let that last happen. And I also couldn't explain why I was far more understanding of Ajira's reluctance to go into the wilds since doing so would mean disclosing some very personal information about her past and her family to her worst enemy and then most likely the guildmistress - something my friend was unlikely to thank me for.

Perhaps if I hadn't been so tired, I'd have been able to wriggle out of this somehow - I'd always been good at arguing people into submission. But in my current state, the only option I could see was...

"All right. I'll do it."

"Oh, really?" Galbedir sounded surprised. That smarted. Had she really thought I'd abandon Ajira so easily? "Well then. Do you know a Soultrap spell? No? In that case, I'll just teach it to you now - it's a simple spell, it shouldn't take long to learn. After that, you can get going. Now watch closely."

As Galbedir began to trace symbols in the air, I prayed I'd find a way to get out of this.

Last installment, Adryn successfully tried her hand at some basic enchantment. Alas, the conversation about it ended the very fragile peace between Adryn and Galbedir and resulted in Adryn very reluctantly agreeing to go hunt and soultrap creatures for Galbedir in order to replenish the gems she'd used up. We left off as Galbedir was teaching Adryn the Soultrap spell... now let's see how that panned out.



"-intentional obstruction!" Galbedir snapped, rage in her eyes.

My eyebrows drew together. "Have you considered you might just be a completely incompetent teacher?"

"Oh?" Galbedir managed to infuse the single syllable with enough contemptuous disbelief for an entire conversation. There was a theatre somewhere in Tamriel missing its star player because she'd chosen to pursue a career in enchanting, I was sure. "In that case, pray explain how exactly you managed to learn the basics of enchanting from me earlier today, something far more complicated than a simple, straightforward Soultrap spell?"

I sputtered. "Simple? Straightforward? If you're a professional enchanter, maybe! For normal people like yours truly-"

"Children learn this spell! Children! I've seen a seven-year-old pick it up in less time than you've spent claiming not to understand the first form-"

"You've taught this to a seven-year-old?" I asked, sidetracked. "A spell whose single intended purpose is to cast it on some poor animal right before killing it in order to capture its soul, and you teach it to children? That doesn't seem just a little inappropriate to you?"

"Stop trying to change the subject!"

"What on earth is going on here?"

I spun around, Galbedir a heartbeat behind. Apparently, we'd both been so engrossed in our argument that neither of us had heard Estirdalin come up the stairs.

The Altmer was frowning heavily. "I hope you realise that we are a professional institution. Our customers and visitors should come away impressed by our expertise, skill, competence and �€“ I reiterate �€“ professionalism. Shouted arguments audible through the entire building do not in any way whatsoever contribute to the sort of ambience we strive for, and this one has gone on for long enough I think Ranis is considering knocking you both back down to Associate."

I shrugged at the threat. If being an Associate meant I could work with Ajira again, I'd happily take it. Galbedir, however, blanched. Rank-obsessed, then. Not a surprise.

"It's her fault!" she hissed, far quieter than before. "She's trying to weasel out of her guild duties!"

"Oh?"

"She used up some petty soul gems earlier, so I asked her to fill replacements. A perfectly reasonable request when you consider the sort of duties certain other people are assigning to Associates! But she," Galbedir jabbed a finger at me, as if Estirdalin could possibly be confused as to who she was referring to, "is pretending not to understand-"

"Pretending? I-"

"If you would let Galbedir finish, Adryn? Thank you."

I subsided. Grudgingly.

"As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted," Galbedir shot me an evil look, "she's pretending not to understand a simple Soultrap spell. We've been at this for nearly an hour, and she's still asking me to repeat the basic structure, every single one of her attempts fizzles out straight away! And that when she managed a successful enchantment with hardly any instruction this morning! It's obvious she's not even trying to learn. She just wants to get out of her assignment so she can keep playing with flowers instead of doing real work."

Without even looking at me, Estirdalin held up her hand. My mouth, which had been in the process of forming itself around an angry retort without any input from my brain, snapped shut.

"Thank you, Galbedir, for that... cogent summary. Adryn, if I may have your perspective?"

I took a deep breath to calm myself down. I couldn't let Galbedir's accusations stand, but somehow I didn't think her angry yelling had impressed Estirdalin much. Time to make a better impression and drive it home just how wrong the Bosmer was.

"I know Galbedir claims it's a simple spell, but I swear, it just don't make sense." Despite my attempt at keeping calm, I could feel my frustration seep into my voice. "I've been trying my hardest to learn it. Yes, I admit I don't want to go out hunting souls, but if this is what the guild requires of me I'll of course do my best." A muffled snort from Galbedir's direction meant that was probably laying it on too thick. "It honestly didn't occur to me to pretend," I added, more honestly.

To tell the truth, I wished it had occurred to me. As Galbedir had pointed out, it was an excellent way of getting out of going back into the wilds and attempting to kill dangerous things for their souls...

...never to mention that if I'd been faking, it would make her repeated forceful explanations of how simple this spell was a lot easier on my pride.

But no. Resigned to my fate, I'd given the spell my all, with no success. My new trick with my Detection spell hadn't worked either �€“ even 'seeing' the spell hadn't made the concept make any more sense in my head. I hated failure, and the last hour had contained a little too much of it for my liking. The fact that Galbedir found this spell so simple she clearly considered it inconceivable I didn't understand it just rubbed salt in the wound.

Estirdalin was frowning. I gulped. Was that a 'thinking hard' frown or an 'I don't believe you, let's tell Ranis Athrys you were slacking off?' frown?

"So you say you're genuinely unable to cast it?"

I recognised that tone. It was intellectual curiosity. Thinking hard, then. I wasn't doomed yet.

"Exactly," I answered. "I don't know �€“ maybe Galbedir isn't a very good teacher." Estirdalin's frown deepened, and I hastily added, "Or maybe this morning was just a fluke, or- or something!"

"Oh, I don't think so," Estirdalin waved my explanations away. I stiffened. "But I also believe you're struggling with the spell."

"Really? It's so simple-" Galbedir had perked up when it looked as though Estirdalin was agreeing with her and was obviously not ready to give up so quickly.

"Simple for you, my dear. But different people have different skills and inclinations. And although it's true Soultrap is considered one of the easier spells generally... Adryn, may I ask you some questions?"

I winced. Submit to a second interrogation the likes of the one I'd experienced right after joining? Only this morning I'd have said I'd never voluntarily do such a thing. But when the alternative was Galbedir's slander...

"Sure, go ahead."

Estirdalin nodded her thanks. "I believe that when we spoke before, you said you were quite good at Mysticism." We both ignored the scoff from Galbedir. "Can you tell me more about your experiences learning spells from the school?"

"Well, I actually only knew the one detection spell at the time, but it's one of the ones I use most often and people have always said I'm unusually good with it. It doesn't take much magicka, and," I remembered Gelduin and the Blighted guar, "I'm able to get information from it other people can't. I learned it from a book a few years ago. It took me ages to get it down, I always blamed it on the author..."

After a few minutes, Galbedir turned back to her work with a disparaging sound. Estirdalin, however, kept listening to me intently, occasionally prompting me with another question.

With her help, a disquieting picture began to emerge.

I'd never had an easy time learning any Mysticism spell. The complete block I seemed to have around the Soultrap spell was new, but I remembered how close I'd been to quitting by the time I'd managed to pick up my detection spell... and I'd struggled to learn that teleportation spell from Ervesa. I still remembered the dubious expression on her face, suspected she'd also contemplated declaring me unteachable.

The contrast to other schools was stark. The Firebite spell I'd learned from Arrille just after arriving, the rain shield I'd bought at the Vivec guildhall, the various illusions Ingerte had taught me not long after we met, Sosia's healing spell, today's introduction to enchanting... I'd been very quick to learn all, quick enough that people remarked on it. Even my water walking spell hadn't given me anywhere near as much trouble as the Mysticism spells, and I'd only been a child at the time.

Add to that my failure at teaching Gelduin my detection spell a few days ago. I'd blamed it on my own shortcomings as a teacher, but I'd explained quite a few alchemical concepts to Ingerte over the years and she'd followed well enough.

After I finished, Estirdalin was silent for a long time.

"Well?" I prompted.

"I have an idea as to what might be happening here. However, I'd like to confirm it before I say anything. I'll need to take you through some practical exercises, Adryn-"

"Could you do that somewhere else?" Galbedir interrupted. "Some of us have work to do, you know."

Estirdalin gave Galbedir a long look. "I think you forget your place, Apprentice." Her voice was mild, but Galbedir flinched and ducked her head. "That said... it is true that there is more space downstairs. And I may need to consult with Marayn or Masalinie, or certain books. Come along, Adryn."

Downstairs...

Something nagged at me. There'd been a reason I'd wanted to stay downstairs earlier, hadn't there? A reason beyond dislike of Galbedir and wanting to keep working with Ajira. Something I'd felt I needed to keep an eye on, something to do with... last night?

Yes, last night, something had happened last night. It was oddly hard to bring up my memory of yesterday now, but as I concentrated the memory came closer-

"Now if you please, Adryn."

My focus shattered under Estirdalin's frosty tone. I gave a sheepish apology and hurried down the stairs.



Next

Notes: Uh-oh...

In case any Oblivion or Skyrim players are confused - Soultrap belongs to the Mysticism, not the Conjuration school in Morrowind.

Also, just to whet your appetites, there's a special surprise coming in next week's update! I've been looking forward to getting to it for *years*.

OK I'm confused. I thought Soul Trap was Mysticism in Oblivion, too. And Skyrim doesn't even have the school, so it's gotta go somewhere else.

I'm new to Morrowind, having only started to play it back in November. So new, I haven't published any mods yet. But, I have played several characters through the early stages Adryn's still in, so I know them better now.

I'm liking the way you include the reasons behind the characters' actions, such as Ajira's relatives, and everyone's experience of the Blight. Plus, the analysis matches my own, so it must be right!

WOO HOO !!! Can't wait !!!! Awesome to know I'll be meeting Adryn soon too!!!! WOO HOO !!!!

Meant to remark earlier in re the different schools of geometry- no doggie biscuit for me- because I only ever had one course in geometry (mumble mumble) years ago. And although I quite enjoyed it- that means I only know plane, old geometry... (Sorry- couldn't resist).

These installments show the wonderful depth of Adryn's personality- from her pious "redistribution of wealth" (a program Trey completely endorses)- to her discomfort at the idea of holding a dying creatures soul with her magic. And by the way- that was a simply beautiful bit of writing.

And the revelation that our elf is not a mystic is perfectly done- it is so much better than just listing one's skills. Most especially in this case, when Adryn herself has believed that she is skilled in the school without actually ever thinking about it...

I'm not sure about this. There are influences at work that may be adjusting that balance. I.e. the Ash Statue.

@ghastley - Whoops! I thought it had been moved to Conjuration in Oblivion, too. Apparently not. Ignore that comment...

For the record, I'm totally looking forward to any mods you publish out for Morrowind! I sometimes play with the idea of creating some companion mods for Adryn's story (e.g. I've got a partial one somewhere that expands the Balmora Mages' Guild), but I don't quite have the attention span to keep up with it. Anyway, I'm glad to hear we're on the same page with many of the NPCs - breathing some life into the NPCs and making the protagonist seem more like a single person in a world full of them was one of the big things I wanted to accomplish with SitC, and I'm always happy to hear I'm apparently succeeding. Thanks!

@treydog - thank you! No worries on the geometry, it was more of an Easter egg than anything else. I'm glad Adryn rings true to you, and delighted that she and Trey share opinions regarding certain charitable efforts. As for her Mysticism skills...

Adryn's skill at Mysticism, or possibly the lack thereof, is going to be pretty significant and the details are definitely coming as a surprise to Adryn herself. This section will fill in a, mm, certain perspective regarding what's going on there pretty plainly... there's also another piece to the puzzle in here that's not made explicit at all where I'm curious to see if anyone will pick it up on it.

@mALX - I am so glad you're looking forward to this because I'm looking forward to this here we go!!

Last installment, Adryn thoroughly failed to learn a Soultrap spell. Last we saw her, she was working with Estirdalin and beginning to realise that there might be something off about her ability at Mysticism. Let's see how that's developed.



"A learning disability." Estirdalin delivered her verdict.

For a moment, my mind was completely blank. "A... what?"

The afternoon thus far had been frustrating, but all the same I thought we'd been making progress. True, we'd managed to expand the litany of spells I was apparently incapable of with Spell Absorption. Apparently it was meant to mimic the ability of the Atronach-born - I'd had to take Estirdalin at her word for that, because it had made just as little sense as Soultrap. And my flat refusal (in my opinion, justified) to learn Recall had been met by a deeply humiliating interrogation by Estirdalin into precisely how my previous attempts at teleportation spells had gone wrong. She'd been far more interested in that than the fact that I could apparently do more in a single Detection spell than most people in three, which I found distinctly unfair.

And, lest one forget - how could one forget? - all this was occurring in the middle of the Mages' Guild common room, where every other guild member or passing visitor could stop to gawk at my failure.

But I'd learned the last spell we'd tried, hadn't I? True, it had taken a while - an unusually long one, judging by Teleportation Girl's expression - until I got the hang of Telekinesis, but I'd managed it in the end. I figured that meant Estirdalin was close to isolating the problem. Some fundamental misconception I had about how the school worked, perhaps, which she could now point out. Some basic lesson I'd missed, whose lack had formed a hole in the foundation of every Mysticism spell I'd ever cast.

Something that could be fixed.

"Think of it this way," Estirdalin was saying now. "People can be crippled in different ways physically, yes? Ranging from the complete paralysis of a broken back to a weak knee that gives out under stress, from a bad case of rockjoint leaving the fingers forever unable to nock an arrow to someone struck with palsy from birth. Sometimes it has major effects, sometimes only as slight, as isolated a thing as a halting tongue or a weak grasp. So it is with the mind. There are the idiots, but there are also those who simply lack one thing - the brilliant thinker who still struggles to distinguish ayem and geth, the incisive scholar who cannot be trusted with the simplest of calculations... the mages who are perfectly competent in every other area but will never be able to cast anything but the simplest spell in one school, no matter how much effort they put in."

The look she shot me was sympathetic, but not nearly sympathetic enough for the fireball she'd dropped on me.

"But-"

I'm smart, I almost protested, but managed to reword it into something a little less embarrassing just in time.

"But everyone's been saying that I cast those spells I do know really well," I argued. "I've had several offers to learn my detection spell, and she," I jerked my head towards the curiously watching Teleportation Girl, "said earlier that I was quite deft and efficient with telekinesis for someone who'd only just learned it. How is that possible?"

"Actually," Estirdalin said, cruelly crushing my hopes, "this makes it more likely, not less. In general, learning in a magical school progresses along a set path - some students may be quicker, some may be slower, the milestones may be reached in a slightly different order, but overall the stages are very uniform and there are few exceptions. But it's well-documented that when it comes to magical disabilities, unusual effects not usually seen at that stage and uncontrolled flares of power are common. I sometimes correspond with Irlav Jarol on guild business - he's a lecturer at the Arcane University and from what he's said there's a student there who is a clear example-"

"Wait, is this student a Khajiit?" Teleportation Girl interrupted. "One of my cousins is a student at the university, he mentioned her in a letter. Apparently in one of her Destruction lessons half the class ended up at the healers'-"

"Her? I've got a friend who's a guard in that area, she said after the first time that girl tried summoning Daedra half her unit went on strike demanding hazard pay!"

How lovely that a random customer felt the need to weigh in here, I thought, teeth gritted. And that Estirdalin hadn't felt the need to death-glare either him or Teleportation Girl into submission.

"Actually, that rings a bell - Mazi-something, wasn't it? Mazila or Mazoga or something like that, would be in her third year right now? My brother-in-law is an architect in Imperial City, and apparently ever since she started classes their business has almost doubled due to all the repairs. Collatinus says he almost feels he should be paying her-"

Correction: random customers, plural, weighing in. A parade of clowns indeed - it was almost like the circus.

"Oh," Marayn sounded startled, "that sounds familiar, in one of the university dispatches Archmage Traven mentioned-"

"All right, all right," I said loudly, "you've all made your point! You can stop now!"

"You see," Estirdalin, apparently selectively hard of hearing, decided to hammer it in, "such fluctuations and... unpredictable effects are quite common in cases such as yours."

I heard that plural and I resented it. After all, unlike this unfortunate Khajiit in Imperial City, it was only teleportation spells that blew up on me to quite that extent. A fact I was sure I'd find myself grateful for once the humiliation wore off. That should only take another thousand years or so, after all - hardly any time at all.

Actually, come to think of it...

"From what you're saying, it sounds like this Mazi-whatever has difficulties with all her spellcasting," I said, proving that I am capable of being distracted by intellectual curiosity in the most extreme situations. (Ingerte would have said no further proof was needed after the incident involving the rooftop entrance to Shatter-Shield Manor and the impromptu experiments in gravity, but thankfully no witnesses to that occasion were present right now.) "But for me it's only Mysticism. Is that common?"

"No, in fact," Estirdalin sounded thoughtful - I clearly wasn't the only one easily distracted. "In general it affects multiple schools. However, I did some research on the matter earlier..."

She picked up a large book from the table and began leafing through it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Master Friend The Guard and Mistress Brother-in-law The Architect moving away hurriedly. I sniffed. Anyone who fled at the sight of books did not, in my opinion, deserve to have any input. On anything, really, but certainly on my ability to learn Mysticism or the lack thereof.

About halfway through the book, Estirdalin found what she was looking for.

"Ledd's Syndrome. A known phenomenon, it turns out, but very rare. The last recorded case was almost a hundred years ago, and the one before that not long after the start of the Third Era. Both Dunmer, as well - it may be unique to your race. And the description fits exactly: unpredictable destinations in Teleportation spells, unusual effects in all of the detection sub-school, inability to learn Soultrap or any absorption spells... unusual effects in telekinesis spells as well," she read out, "which along with the detection spells use far too little magicka, showing that the disorder must involve an inability to form crucial parts of the Mystic spell matrix." She looked up. "That's why I taught you Telekinesis in the end. I wanted to be certain of my suspicion."

Well, there went any last hope Estirdalin might be mistaken.

"Can I borrow that book?" I asked. Who knew, there might be something about how to compensate...

But Estirdalin was shaking her head. "I'm afraid it's from the restricted library - I couldn't in good conscience let you access it before you reach Conjurer status. Besides, there's very little beyond what I've already told you."

After that statement, she closed the book with a little more haste than I felt truly appropriate, hiding the cover as she did so. Probably worried I'd try to break into this 'restricted library' and abscond with the thing if I knew the title. I'd be offended, but then again exactly that had been going through my head.

It did smart. A private library for higher-ranking guild members which us common rabble didn't have access to was bad enough, but surely an exception could be considered in this case? True, Estirdalin had said there was nothing else of use in the book, but perhaps she'd missed something. Considering more information might mean the difference between a successful career in the Mages' Guild and failure, or - for that matter - between teleporting to the place I wanted and teleporting five miles above the place I wanted...

I suspected Ranis Athrys would be happy with the outcome of this afternoon. After all, I now had a reason to try to make Conjurer as soon as I could.



To mALX: Words really cannot describe how much I love Maxical. She's a beautiful, full character, and her misadventures are absolutely hilarious and generally leave me in stitches. I have to admit I've always felt that Adryn and her must be some sort of cousins in spirit with the amount of trouble they get into and havoc they can cause. Thank you for coming up with her, for writing her, and thank you so much for allowing me to borrow her in this section. I was so happy to be able to give her and her reputation as a scourge of the Arcane University a little tribute in Adryn's story. And I apologise it took me four years to actually get this far!

Next

Poor Adryn, what a way to learn there is a cause behind some of those fun incidences we have read about! = Of course, not to say I didn't get some chuckles from her active mind throughout, I absolutely LOVE being privy to the workings of Adryn's mind!

AWESOME chapter, and thank you so much for including Maxical in your story, and for your kind words about her!

@mALX - Thank you for your permission to write her! I'm so glad you liked Maxical's little excursion, and the context it happens in.

Last installment, Adryn was informed that she has a learning disability affecting the Mysticism school. She learned this in what she would like to let you know was probably the most humiliating way possible. Comparisons to some Khajiit who is apparently wreaking havoc at the Arcane University were drawn. Let's see how she's dealing.



Even later, I was still reeling from the whole thing. My pride was wounded, of course, but more than that...

Being smart was how I survived, was who I was. Back in Windhelm, I'd been the one who'd come up with the ideas, I'd been the one who'd see a back door in a seemingly inescapable situation. I'd always known that although I'd never be able to fight my way out of trouble, I could think my way out, and that was so much better.

And being smart had always translated to being able to pick up magic quickly, both theory and practice. I remembered Ingerte's admiration of how quickly I'd learned those illusions she knew, her envy of my water-walking, even - bitterly - her impressed whistle when I'd showed off my Detection spell, how she'd claimed it quite beyond her abilities. (Her ignorance, a small voice said now, was probably the only reason she didn't realise it took me far, far too long to learn.) It was a fact of life like my height, my temper, my hair colour, my tendency to jump into things without quite thinking them through - I was good at magic.

And suddenly, that had been taken away.

What else was I taking for granted, what else was I relying on, that wasn't true? Was I really as good of an alchemist as I believed? Ajira thought so, but Ajira was self-taught herself, and I hadn't known her nearly as long as it felt. Maybe I'd fooled her into believing I was skilled, through a combination of flukes and unfamiliar techniques. What if-

A flicker out of the corner of my eye, coupled with a sudden sense of awareness-

I let my magicka snap out to engulf the leather ball speeding towards me. As it stopped to hang in midair, I was very glad I'd kept my telekinesis spell going.

"Hey!" I protested, letting the ball drop to the ground. "I wasn't paying attention!"

"But you still caught the ball," Teleportation Girl, who I was tempted to mentally rename Bombarder-of-innocent-Adryns, responded. "Without paying attention, or looking at it, when you've known that spell for, what. Two hours?"

My eyes narrowed. "You don't have to pretend I'm good at this to make me feel better, you know. " I could hear the self-pity in my voice and was briefly thankful it was late enough the guildhall was - finally - nearly deserted. "Estirdalin was perfectly clear earlier."

Teleportation Girl sighed, putting the ball on a side table. "So it takes you a little longer to learn spells. So what? It's what you do with the spell that's important, and your telekinesis spell is really good already, your detection-"

She was giving voice to the same justifications that had been spinning around my head all afternoon - but I was good at detection spells, I was apparently also good at telekinesis spells, a little difficulty in learning them surely meant nothing...

Somehow, hearing them out loud just made clear how flimsy they were. A little difficulty learning them, really? I'd proven myself completely unable to make head or tail of the majority of the spells in the school, and then one of the few I did know was more dangerous to myself than anyone else. Who was to say my detection spell wouldn't blow up in my face next? Considering the stories of that Khajiit at the Arcane University, anything was in the realm of possibility once magical disabilities came into the picture.

"Masalinie? Friend Adryn?"

Letting my telekinesis spell lapse, I turned away from Teleportation Girl's admittedly well-meaning attempt to make me feel better in order to face Ajira.

"Ajira is very sorry, Masalinie, but she needs a word with friend Adryn," my friend continued.

"Go ahead. Maybe you'll get through to her, she's certainly not listening to me. And," Teleportation Girl's eyes unfocused, as though there was something hovering in midair only she could see, "it feels like Iniel's got someone coming through from Sadrith Mora, anyway."

I followed Ajira into the alchemy lab, wondering what this was about. An attempt at cheering me up through alchemical experimentation? I wouldn't say no, but judging by the angle of Ajira's ears and the bristling of her tail, whatever Ajira had to discuss was nothing so pleasant.

"Friend Adryn," Ajira said in a low voice, coming to a halt in front of the desk in the far corner of the lab. There was a sack tied to one of its legs. I frowned at it. The sight niggled at my memory...

"What are we to do with the statue?"

"The statue?" I said blankly. "What-"

Memory came crashing back. It felt rather like being hit by a very heavy anvil dropping from a great height.

"It. I. I forgot." My voice was a croak. "How- how could I forget, after-"

After the entirety of yesterday spent tracking down a specimen, finally finding one in that dreadful cellar. After the horror of last night, in Shor's name! This morning I'd been close to hysterical thanks to that statue. If you'd asked me, I'd have said its horrifying existence was branded in my memory...

...and yet, over the course of the day my recollection of it had vanished. Galbedir's introduction to enchanting, then all the fuss about my Mysticism skills, all of it had occupied my attention while last night and the extremely dangerous magical object that had caused it had slowly faded away into nothingness in my mind.

And I hadn't even noticed.

"It does tie in with what the honoured Varvur Sarethi said," Ajira said, sounding thoughtful. "He also recounted forgetting about his statue even when there was every reason he should have remembered."

"That's-" Yes, he had said something along those lines, my slowly recovering memory provided as if in futile apology for its disastrous failure. I hadn't thought of it, I should have thought of it when I offered to guard the damn thing-

Distantly, as if through water, I heard the rush of expelled magicka I'd come to identify as a teleportation spell, followed by Teleportation Girl starting, "Welcome to Balmora..." I spared a moment to be thankful she was distracted. The entrance to the alchemy lab was right next to the guild guide platform, and I was on the verge of a panic attack. I'd had quite enough audiences to humiliating moments for the day, or possibly the century, thank you very much.

"Ajira suggests we go to the Temple immediately," Ajira continued. "She knows the honoured Varvur Sarethi believes bringing it to an Armiger is the best chance to clear him, but it is clearly far too dangerous to keep another night."

"You don't say." Cold sweat had collected on my forehead; I wiped it away with a sleeve. "Yes, sure, bring it to the Temple, toss it in the Odai, throw it off a cliff, as long as it you get it away from me-"

"Adryn? Are you in there?"

I blinked in surprise, then turned to face the person standing in the doorway.

Ervesa looked much as she had last week. The main differences were her clothes - giant insect armour having been swapped out for a simple linen shirt, the only decoration a triangle with a letter in each corner embroidered onto its breast - and her expression. The constantly smiling Armiger I'd met on Turdas, who cheated at cards as well as I did and told jokes about her god, looked downright grim.

Ervesa was here.

I didn't think I'd ever been so grateful to see anyone in my life.

"Thank the Nine you're here," I told Ervesa with perfect sincerity. "We have a bit of a... problem. A statue-shaped problem, which I was hoping you knew something about."

"Ajira and friend Adryn were just discussing what to do with the object, as they found it is far too dangerous to keep," Ajira added. "Perhaps the honoured Armiger can assist?"

"If it's the same as the ones I'm familiar with, I can indeed... Ajira, is it?" Ervesa gave Ajira a brief smile. The expression made her look far more like the woman who'd saved me from a kagouti last week. "I'm Ervesa Romandas, and I have to admit I'm hoping it's the same. It's bad enough we have the one, we really don't need another type of extremely dangerous magical statues around."

"Well, ours certainly fulfills the 'extremely dangerous' part of that description," I said with a shudder. "And there's at least one other like it."

"Really? Where- actually, tell me later. Let's have a look at the one you have first."

Ervesa didn't even blink when we showed her the sack tied to the alchemy table. Instead, she reached into a small bag at her side and pulled out gloves, tongs and a sheet of cloth, all shining with the magicka of strong enchantment. Then she turned to the wrapped statue with the air of someone tasked with trimming the fur of a live snow bear. Watching her tug cautiously at the ropes with the tongs, I remembered the way I'd picked up the statue with my bare hands yesterday and found myself feeling rather queasy.

"Yes, it's the same," she said when the red stone was finally visible. "I'll take it to Vivec to be safely disposed of."

I felt as if a great weight had fallen from my chest. "Thank you so much-"

But Ervesa wasn't done yet. "I need to know. How exactly did you come by it, and what made you realise it was dangerous?"

"Well..."



Next

Last installment, Adryn's bad day was made worse as she was forcibly reminded of the existence of the ash statue... the ash statue that had given her such a terrifying experience during the night, which she somehow (and rather unnaturally) managed to forget about entirely. Thankfully, Ervesa showed up with the world's most perfect timing along with an air of authority Adryn really, really appreciates right now. Let's see how that's going.



The story took some time to relate, long enough that I'd have suggested moving to the common area for a more comfortable environment if not for the statue. Near the start we gained an audience in the form of a wide-eyed Teleportation Girl. Thinking about our guildmistress' likely reaction to the story, I could only hope that she wouldn't blab �€“ especially when I mentioned the fugitive accused of murder currently sleeping on Ajira's floor.

I did consider leaving Varvur out of it, but I wasn't a good liar at the best of times, and with him as integral to the whole story as he was I knew there was no way I'd be able to come up with anything plausible. Besides, the whole reason we had the statue in the first place was to prove that he'd been magically coerced, wasn't it? Hard to do that if we never even mentioned him.

It seemed to be working. True, Ervesa's face had been something of a picture when Varvur's name came up, but she hadn't gone running off to arrest him. Overall, she'd seemed far more concerned by the details of exactly where I'd found the statue and exactly what it had done.

"Well," she said when I'd finished. "I have to say this is even more serious than I'd thought, and that's saying something. As a matter of fact, I think the Temple may owe you major thanks. We've only ever discovered these statues in isolation before and haven't been able to track down how they were being distributed. It sounds like you've uncovered a genuine conspiracy in Ald'ruhn. Maybe this is the opening we need to track them down to their source."

I smiled for what felt like the first time that day. The Temple may owe you major thanks, that was a good phrase. That was a phrase with septims in it. If I managed to not only escape unscathed from this disaster, but get my hands on a reward...

"I'll have to see about a reward later," Ervesa confirmed my hopes, making my smile grow even wider. "For now, though..." She frowned, clearly thinking hard. "I'll send someone to make sure, but since the statue was only here for less than a day I don't think this area should need to be cleansed."

Say what?

I found myself abruptly and brutally torn out of my daydreams of what reward the Temple might offer for such a service. I hadn't realised the Mages' Guild needing to be 'cleansed' was a possibility. However, I was relatively sure that whatever cleansing entailed, Ranis Athrys would not be happy with it... or happy with Ajira and me for making it necessary.

"That's �€“ that's good news," I managed after a moment.

"Yes," Ervesa agreed. "Somehow, I don't think your guildmates would be very happy if we had to close the Mages' Guild for two days straight."

...or maybe Ranis would skip straight past 'not happy' and straight into murderous rage. Judging by Ajira's horrified expression, she agreed with me.

"No... I don't think they would. In fact... could you do me a favour? If it does turn out that this 'cleansing' has to happen after all, and if you visit in a few days and Ajira and I are mysteriously missing, could you check if any unmarked graves have suddenly sprung up in the vicinity?"

"Really?" Teleportation Girl threw in before Ervesa could respond. "Unmarked graves? You think Ranis would leave a body? I've seen her Destruction spells, you know. But I promise to very carefully inspect any ash heaps that suddenly turn up around the guild, if it helps." There was suppressed laughter in her voice, proving that she had not managed to grasp the seriousness of the matter.

"Ahem," Ervesa said, but she was smiling too. Well, I thought with all the charity I could muster, she didn't know Ranis Athrys. She had no idea how dire the situation was. "As I was saying. I don't think this building needs to be cleansed. However, I will need you to come to Vivec with me."

I hadn't thought that Ervesa could come up with anything even more immediately threatening than us accidentally forcing the Mages' Guild to close �€“ and Ranis' reaction to the same �€“ but clearly I'd underestimated her.

"...Vivec?" I asked warily.

My last venture into the city had not ended well at all, could in fact be deemed the ultimate cause of this whole situation. I hadn't been planning on returning anytime soon if I could help it.

"To undergo a cleansing," Ervesa explained patiently. "Although the statues leave traces on their surroundings, it's secondary to the effect they have on people who come into contact with them or sleep near them. It's... like an infection, I suppose you could say, one that progresses in stages. Nightmares, initially, but it eventually progresses to black-outs, strange behaviour, then..."

Ervesa trailed off. I was perfectly all right with this �€“ I didn't particularly want to hear what came next.

"The malign influence can be removed, but currently we're only set up to do that at the High Fane in Vivec," she finished.

"If the esteemed Armiger will permit Ajira a question?"

All eyes turned towards my friend. She shuffled her feet, then went on. "It is not only friend Adryn who has been exposed to these items. In particular, as we have discussed the honoured Varvur Sarethi has been badly affected by one of them. Should he not go to the High Fane as well?"

Ervesa bit her lip. "Honestly? You're right. He should. However, I'm worried that given his current... delicate legal status..." I blinked at Ervesa in surprise �€“ that right there was a euphemism worthy of the Thieves' Guild, "travelling with him would create problems. I'll send someone to escort him later, but it's far more urgent to take the statue where it can be safely destroyed and get Adryn cleansed."

"Wait a minute." I'd been following Ervesa's logic up until the last part. "Why me? I mean, obviously you need to get rid of that thing as soon as possible," I shot the statue a look and had to bite back bile, "but I was only... only exposed for a single night. Varvur was sleeping next to one for weeks and actually killed someone thanks to it. Why am I the one who has to be dragged to Vivec as soon as possible?"

"Ah. By your accounts this Varvur has been away from the influence for nearly a week and is beginning to recover. Although he does need to be cleansed soon, especially because any re-exposure at this point would be... bad," judging by Ervesa's careful intonation, I suspected this was another euphemism on the level of delicate legal status, "it isn't immediately urgent. You, on the other hand..."

"Me?" I felt my stomach sink. Judging by Ervesa's expression, I wasn't going to like this explanation.

"Judging by your story of how you couldn't stay awake last night, the statue has already started exerting control over your mind. And your reports of the statue moving to be closer to you, of its expression changing... I've heard such things before, but only from people in very advanced stages �€“ after the black-outs begin to happen. It's very worrying to me that you reached that point in under a day. I think you're affected strongly enough that you might find yourself controlled the next time you sleep, and I'm not sure removing the statue from your vicinity is going to be enough to stop that. You need to be cleansed of the influence at Vivec as soon as possible."

I felt as if someone had reached inside me and scooped out all my insides, leaving me hollow and about to collapse.

"The next time I sleep? That's all right, then." I said. My voice seemed very far away. "Because I'm never going to sleep again. I've just decided."

"Adryn-"

Ervesa reached out as though to put a hand on my shoulder claws digging into my shoulder from behind-

I flinched back as memories of my nightmare the night before screamed through my head. She sighed and withdrew her hand.

"The cleansing will remove the corruption, I promise," she said, voice quiet but intense. "But we have to go to Vivec now."

For some strange reason, I found myself having no further objections.



Next

At least for a Mage's Guild member, going direct to Vivec is not a question of traversing all the intervening territory, with attendant wild creatures intent on one's destruction.

On the other hand, there is Trebonius ...

@ghastley - Very true! If forced to choose between facing all the kagouti, Blighted guar, nix-hounds, mudcrabs and other dangers lurking between Balmora and Vivec and Trebonius, Adryn would have to think very hard.

Last installment, Ervesa, Adryn and Ajira caught up on events. For Ervesa, this entailed learning about a conspiracy to distribute ash statues in Ald'ruhn. For Adryn, she became aware of some extremely worrying things concerning her current state and general susceptibility to ash-statue contagion. For this reason, she and Ervesa are now off to Vivec to get the statue disposed of and Adryn cleansed ASAP.



Ervesa shepherded me through Vivec to the High Fane, sticking to me like a burr the whole way �€“ and that despite the fact that the journey took rather longer than she'd initially been expecting.

We'd hardly stepped off the teleportation platform in the Mages' Guild and waved away a puzzled Cassia when Ervesa turned to me and said, "All right, now if you just cast the Almsivi Intervention spell I taught you-"

I'd almost forgotten Ervesa was the one to blame for That Spell and all that had come of it.

My reaction was both forceful and immediate. "You have got to be joking."

"What?" Ervesa rocked back on her heels, clearly taken aback. "You cast it perfectly well last time, apart from us accidentally ending up in Suran �€“ oh, if you're worried about that happening again, I know for a fact casting from here will get us to the High Fane-"

Spoken like someone who probably didn't even know what a magical learning disability was, I thought with a brief twist of envy. When I realised where my thoughts were going, I pushed the feeling back. Getting jealous of other people over things that couldn't be changed was a recipe to misery and was, quite frankly, beneath me.

All the same, I'd better disabuse Ervesa of any idea that we'd be taking the short and easy route.

"Oh, accidentally ending up at a different Temple is definitely not at the top of my list of concerns," I retorted. "Accidentally ending up in the manor of a very humourless nobleman who looks rather dimly on intruders, I can say from experience that that's a far more worrying prospect... but the top of the list definitely and absolutely has to be accidentally ending up several miles in mid-air, and since that's what happened the last time I cast this spell I hope you'll forgive me if I'd rather walk!"

There was a moment of silence as Ervesa just stared at me.

"Several miles in mid-air?" she eventually repeated, and I remembered that when I told her how we'd come by the statue, in order to make a long story at least a little shorter I'd left out all details regarding exactly how Varvur and I met.

"I'd almost managed to repress the memories, until you forced me to dig them up again. Yes, several miles in mid-air. I wouldn't be surprised if Varvur will end up afraid of heights for the rest of his life. Oh, speaking of which," I found myself briefly distracted from being indignant, "I really meant it when I said I owe you for that amulet. If I hadn't had it on me, both of us would be a smear on the ground somewhere in the West Gash."

"I... I'm glad it helped." Ervesa said weakly. "But �€“ seriously in midair? That's not supposed to be possible."

Oh, if I had ten drakes for every time I'd heard that in the last few days... and in all honesty, I wasn't sure whether to be happy this afternoon had finally given me an explanation for my unprecedented ability to bungle teleportation spells or despondent at what that explanation was.

"Apparently I have a learning disability, to do with Mysticism. 'Ledd's Syndrome', I think Estirdalin called it.Really rare, apparently, but I guess I'm just lucky that way. Can't cast half the spells, and the other half are prone to going... awry." All right, despondent it was.

"Really? I wasn't expecting- that's interesting." Ervesa paused for a long moment, looking thoughtful. I was about to demand what, exactly, was so interesting about my misery when she visibly gathered herself. "Well, we need to get going. It sounds like teleportation is out of the question, so in that case we'll catch a ride on a gondola. Come on, the dock for the Foreign Quarter is this way."

I'd been worried about a repeat of my last attempt at trying to find my way around Vivec, but Ervesa swept along corridors and down stairs with the ease of a native. In what felt like no time at all, we were seated in a long flat boat whose captain was steering it through the maze of boardwalks and boats with surprising speed �€“ helped, I suspected, by the purple glow of magicka around the stern. When I craned my neck, trying to figure out how it worked (my guess was either a modified water-walking or shield spell, but which one and how did he get it to propel us forward?) I was met with a glare and spate of Dunmeris.

"He says it's a trade secret," Ervesa translated. Her face was just a little too even, and I suspected that what the man had said had been a great deal less polite.

Fine. No free exchange of information between two comrades in the fellowship of mages, then. See if I'd tell him about my Rainshield spell.

Ervesa continued pulling me along when we reached the High Fane, giving me only a brief glimpse of the two spires reaching into the heavens, the palace beyond them, the- was that giant rock actually floating?

I was on the verge of contemplating a second attempt at sight-seeing later �€“ arguably an initial symptom of madness, if you considered how the last one went �€“ when we stopped in front of a low door adorned with a brass plaque just past the entrance. As Ervesa knocked, I read: Dileno Lloran, Disciple of Vivec.

My first thought �€“ that this set-up looked like it belonged to someone rather important �€“ was quickly confirmed. The tall, severe-looking woman seated at a desk in the room we entered might have been wearing robes plainer than mine, but she wore them with the unmistakeable air of a religious devotee who knows her choice in clothing makes her morally superior. It was an air I'd learned to recognise early in my time at Kynareth's orphanage, and I found myself a little amused to encounter it again here. It seemed some things didn't change much between religions.

"Ah. Tathavis Almsivi-lloru, Ervesa nidresu-" the woman's eyes flicked over to me and my blank expression, and she shifted smoothly into Tamrielic. "I'd like your report, if you would."

A second point in favour of my theory that a "Disciple of Vivec" was a rather high rank: the way the woman effortlessly took control of the situation. Only minutes later found the statue sitting on the floor inside a gleaming nimbus of magicka, Ervesa perched on a chair in front of Lloran's desk being debriefed, and me being bustled off by a junior priestess. I'd have rather liked to stay in order to watch the statue be destroyed with my own eyes, and Ervesa had protested that she wanted to accompany me (proof of a highly over-developed sense of responsibility, I thought, since there were so many bigger worries right now), but it was no use. The experience was a little like being faced with a natural disaster shaped like a woman �€“ your only hope was to hold on as tight as you could and work out where you'd ended up after she was a safe distance away.

"This way, please," the novice prompted.

With a sigh, I followed her down the corridor. Apparently I hadn't reached a safe distance quite yet.



Next

I believe that in Morrowind, if you are a "safe distance" from everything, it just means that's room for cliff-racers to swoop down.

And more of them than usual.

@ghastley - Very true! I'm not sure there is such a thing as somewhere safe from cliff racers on the whole island, but there are definitely spots even less safe than others.

Last installment found Adryn and Ervesa making their way to the High Fane in Vivec. Last we saw, Ervesa was getting debriefed by a Temple higher-up and Adryn was being hustled off by a junior priestess. Let's see what she's up to...



Several hours later found me trailing after the novice again. A sufficiently flighty observer might think that we'd spent the whole period wandering through the maze of corridors that made up the lower levels of the High Fane. I did have to admit would be well within the realm of possibility; let's just say that I was glad I had a guide, as I felt my other only option would be to starve to death and haunt the underworks, unable to find my way out even to the afterlife. That said, some changes had occurred in the interim. Among others, I was clad in an undyed wool robe (with the unfortunate suspicion that I'd never see the clothes I'd been wearing originally again) and my hair was wet.

Apparently spiritual cleansing functioned much like earthly cleansing, or should I say the cleansing of earth? This version of it had definitely involved me making close acquaintances with a large round pool of milky water that smelled strongly of minerals in a chamber deep within the Fane. The temperature would probably have been scalding for anyone other than a Dunmer, and I had to say I was really coming to appreciate the way Morrowind handled water temperature. I didn't think I'd had a properly hot bath in my entire time in Skyrim.

Really, it might have qualified as pleasant experience overall, certainly a welcome change from trying to see to my daily ablutions with a bucket of water and a Firebite spell in the tiny washing alcove off the guild sleeping area... except that there had been something else in that chamber. Something that left the air so heavy with magicka it was almost impossible to breathe, raised goosebumps on my skin, had me twitching and jerking around because I thought I'd seen a glowing shape rise from the water out of the corner of my eye...

...filled my ears with a low humming that seemed to spring more from my mind than my ears, one that drowned out the whispers I hadn't even realised I'd still been hearing.

The power of Vivec, they said. Well, it had made me wonder about this god. I certainly couldn't recall feeling anything like that banked power in any shrine to the Nine.

Up ahead, the novice turned her head to make sure I was still following. On discovering she hadn't managed to lose me she looked, I felt, inappropriately disappointed. I answered with a glare.

And that had been the other reason I'd prefer to forget about the whole cleansing experience: the audience.

The, if you asked me, wholly unnecessary audience. Sure, there had been chanting and spell-casting and drawing runes and all the other hallmarks of a major magical ritual but, I ask you, would it have been so hard to do it with me behind a curtain?

More to the point, I'd asked her. At length. The answer hadn't changed, did however come delivered with an increasingly shorter temper but longer digressions on cultural relativism with respect to nudity taboos, in particular how Morrowind culture was clearly superior to all others in this regard. This had included a lengthy diatribe about how preferring not to display certain parts of one's body to all and sundry proved one was ashamed of one's natural state and hence deeply spiritually flawed. I'd risen to the bait, and...

...suffice it to say that I didn't think we were going to be friends.

"Here we are."

I looked up to see the novice had led me back to Lloran's office. She gave a contemptuous sniff as she looked me over. I gave her a glare back, but my heart wasn't in it. I'd secretly worried that after our altercations, she'd abandon me in the maze, and 'lost spirit stuck on Mundus' just wasn't particularly high on my list of prospective careers. However, I remembered that this office was just a short walk down from one of the entrances. Even I should be able to escape from here.

"Come in."

After meeting with Ervesa's superior one more time, of course.

The office had changed significantly since I'd left it. Oh, I am certain some people would disagree with this assessment. They might point out the fact that the furnishings remained the same, that no structural changes had happened, that even small decorations were still in their prior location. Of course, said people would be fools. Such trivialities as tables, chairs, wall-hangings and carpets being entirely unchanged vanished into nothingness before the following: the statue was gone, Ervesa was gone, and the high-ranking Temple member who'd previously clearly thought of me as little more than a mer-shaped inconvenience had her full attention fixed on me.

"Have a seat. Your name is Adryn, correct?"

As I slid into the chair I'd last seen Ervesa in only hours before, I found myself feeling distinctly betrayed. When we'd arrived I'd been packed off before introductions, which meant someone must have told her my name. From where I was standing, the only possible culprit was Ervesa.

I told myself I was being irrational - this woman was clearly Ervesa's superior, after all, and considering that by the sounds of it I'd done the Temple a serious favour there was no reason this woman should do me any harm - but the feeling stayed. I didn't like powerful people knowing who I was, especially when I didn't know what else Ervesa had told the woman.

The woman who was apparently waiting for me to confirm my name, eyebrow raised in question. I gulped. There was something rather ominous about her air of polite patience.

"Um, that's correct. I'm Adryn."

"And your clan name?" The feeling that Lloran's patience was finite and I would not like it when we reached its end intensified.

"I don't have one." For the sake of self-preservation, I throttled the exasperation that always rose in me at this line of questioning. (It wasn't even the first time today!) "I never knew my parents, and there isn't anyone I could ask."

A simple explanation of a very complicated childhood right there.

"Really." For a moment, the feeling of impending doom hung in the air. Then it vanished. I guessed with some relief that Lloran had decided I was being honest. "A tragedy, to be severed from your ancestors so." She bowed her head. "You have my deepest condolences." Her mournful tone wouldn't be out of place at a funeral.

"Uh, thanks?" I hazarded, rather unsettled by this reaction. Sure, being an orphan with no family had never been a walk in the park, but I liked to think I'd done reasonably well for myself. And in my experience, the "look at the poor deprived parentless child" reactions die down once you reach teenage years. This was really quite excessive.

What was worse was that the novice had reacted in the same way after I told her I couldn't give her any names of my ancestors for her spells... and that had been after the heated discussion on comparative theology. Pity is never a pleasant thing to find yourself on the receiving end of, but pity from someone who you'd have said wouldn't spit on you if you were on fire is downright worrying. Getting the same reaction now left me feeling defensive and off-balance.

"Perhaps we may speak of the kinfinding services the Temple offers later," Lloran continued. "Business must come first, though."

"Business. Sure." That sounded like far safer ground to me. Then I became suspicious. "...What business, exactly?"

"First of all," Lloran said, "you will be relieved to hear that all traces of the Sharmat's corruption have been purged from you, and that the ash statue that caused it has been destroyed."

Relieved was an understatement. However, some natural caution remained.

"So the- corruption, as you called it - is definitely gone? I'm not in any danger of-" I stopped, unable to bring myself to say the last few words.

Lloran understood what I meant, however. "Definitely gone," she confirmed. "You were lucky - if the evil progresses far enough, it becomes irreversible, but at your stage it could still be washed away by the holy waters of Vivec and the blessings of the ancestors."

Irreversible?

Well. That right there was a piece of information Ervesa had left out when she'd discussed my state in Balmora. Probably because she'd figured that it would only spur me into mindless panic.

"I do have to warn you that your experience will make you more susceptible to the Sharmat's influence from now on, and that if you ever come across an ash statue again you should remove yourself from its vicinity and contact the Temple immediately." Lloran paused. "Although I suspect that at this point, you would do so regardless." Her voice was dry.

"You can say that again." I was seriously beginning to wish I'd never thought of breaking into Hanarai's home, never agreed to help Varvur, never even met Varvur-

"Ervesa told me how you came by the ash statue," Lloran said, distracting me from my mental diatribe at the mer who'd gotten me into this by confirming my worst fears about Ervesa's discretion, "but I'd like to hear it in your own words all the same."

Truth be told, at this point all I wanted to do was stagger to a bed - my bed at the Mages' Guild, preferably, but any bed not beset by ash statues would do, and in fact the ground was looking increasingly comfortable. However, it was clear by Lloran's tone that this was not a request.

I sighed and began, for the third time in two days, to explain exactly how I'd come by the statue. The process was not made any easier by the fact that my audience was one of the sort beloved by teachers but definitely disliked by anyone who was beginning to eye the carpet and wonder how soft it would be: an audience who thought. An audience who asked questions.

"How exactly did you work out it was Hanarai Assutlanipal the statues originated from?"

"Why did you choose to investigate her home on your own instead of taking your proof to the guards?"

"Can you remember the exact words you heard in Assutlanipal's cellar?"

"Ervesa mentioned you have a... condition... which causes you difficulty with Mysticism spells. Can you elaborate?"

At that, I tried to protest - not only was it not at all relevant to Hanarai Assutlanipal, Galtis Guvron and the statues, but I'd been subjected to more than enough humiliation regarding that particular subject for one lifetime, thank you very much - but my objection didn't make it far.

"I consider it relevant. Ervesa mentioned it, and it is unusual. Anything unusual in connection with these statues bears investigation."

I frowned. Her voice was hard and left no room for protest, but I thought that she'd glanced away for a moment when she'd said that... as though she wasn't telling me everything.

Well, considering she was a high-ranking priestess privy to any number of secrets and I was a mere peon of a heathen non-believer, it would be a surprise if she was telling me everything. Still, I couldn't imagine what relevance my newfound learning disability (I hated that that thought was getting more familiar) had to anything. I must have imagined it - Divines knew I was tired.

By the time she stopped, a whole sheaf of parchment on her desk was covered in notes, the candle had almost burned down and I was swaying in my seat from exhaustion.

"Very well. Now, Ervesa tells me you are staying at the Mages' Guild in Balmora?"

I nodded. Dipping my chin was far easier than raising it again, I noted fuzzily. I wondered if the priestess would be very insulted if I simply fell asleep right here. It was, after all, the place I suspected I'd be safest from statues in all of Vvardenfell. No tendril of malign influence would dare approach the woman.

"It's far too late to return there tonight, I'm afraid, and in any case I might have more questions for you tomorrow. I've arranged for a bed for you in the novices' dormitory tonight, and we will see what the morning brings."

The only word that made it through to my tired brain was bed.

"That's-"

A loud knock on the door made both of us look up. A moment later, it opened to show one of Master Grumpy's fellows.

Lloran frowned. "I am quite certain I asked not to be disturbed, Brother Ordinator."

"My apologies, Disciple, but it is urgent."

"Ah! Do you bring news from Ald'ruhn, then?"

Despite my exhaustion I found myself leaning forward in my chair to listen. Through the questioning, I'd managed to gather that someone had been sent to Ald'ruhn to investigate my story and arrest Hanarai Assutlanipal and Galtis Guvron if confirmed. I had to admit I was rather invested in the outcome. Varvur's freedom was at stake, of course, but even aside from that I'd feel a lot safer with both those mer behind bars.

"Ald'ruhn?" The Ordinator sounded confused. "No, I'm here on Brother Suryn's orders." That expressionless mask turned to stare in my direction. "You are the clanless known as Adryn, recently of Windhelm?"

Wait, he was here for me?

I had the terrible sinking feeling that I'd forgotten about something important.

"Yes, she is," Lloran answered for me. I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to yell at her for so easily letting my identity slip to law enforcement - you never give the guards anything! "Now, what is this about-"

Quick as a snake, the Ordinator's hand shot out. Tired as I was, I wasn't able to evade the cold metal he clasped around my wrist, and found myself choking out a gasp as my magicka began to drain away.

"You are under arrest for the murder of Ordinator Selman Relas. Please come quietly."



Next

Notes: ...

And a happy Easter to anyone who celebrates it!

Now that's something I'd do - making the murdered Ordinator one of the game's unimplemented NPC's. Nice touch!

I admit I had to look that name up, and Suryn, as well, not having played enough to encounter him directly.

@ghastley - I'm of the opinion that Morrowind has SO MANY NPCs that there's huge potential there for fic-writers. When it comes to adults who are present in Vvardenfell I strenuously try to avoid creating genuine OCs in favour of rehabilitating NPCs, especially those who get zero interesting dialogue/quests or (as in Selman's case) never even got added to the game in the first place. This is fun, and actually sometimes leads to extra information about characters for the curious reader - we'll learn something about someone in this chapter that was there on their UESP page all along, and there's a major hint about the origin of Adryn's learning disability similarly "hidden". Anyway!

Last chapter, Adryn did not have a good day. It started off with a horrifying dream caused by the ash statue, went on to severely damage her confidence in her magical abilities via discovering she had a learning disability in what Adryn thought was a really unnecessary humiliating way, and then culminated in her getting arrested for murder. Yikes.

All that said, Adryn - currently stuck in jail - is having a rather boring time of it right now, and I don't want to put my readers to sleep. So instead of looking at how she's doing, let's have a look at some of the people around her instead...



"Father, I can't breathe." Despite his aggrieved words, Varvur made no motion to free himself from Athyn's embrace.

"Have some pity for a worried parent, Varvur," Athyn responded. "Your mother and I have spent weeks wondering if we'd ever see you again."

He gave his son one last squeeze, then reluctantly began to disentangle himself. Finally he stood in front of Varvur, hands on his shoulders �€“ and when had Athyn started to need to reach up to do that, anyway?

"Speaking of Mother, where is she?" Varvur's tone was a credible imitation of a true teenager who found his parents deeply embarrassing and was certainly far too old to need their reassurance, but Athyn, who'd noticed his son's anxious glances, wasn't fooled. Not so grown-up as all that, then.

As for Domesea...

"I'm afraid I rather made a point of not knowing," Athyn confessed. "When we heard about your arrest by the Archmaster's guards, she went straight to the armory �€“ I decided it would be best to have plausible deniability. I'm sure she'll hear about your release soon enough. At the latest, when she has Bolvyn Venim at swordpoint." He shrugged with all the equanimity of long years of marriage.

"Mother," Varvur groaned.

"That said," Athyn continued, "there is someone else who'd like to greet you. Although I think she's not too happy with you right now." He finally let go of his son entirely and turned around. "Meryni?"

The figure who'd been sulking in the background came forward upon being addressed.

"Varvur, you missed my birthday!"

That foot-stomp would no doubt be a fierce, ground-shaking thing one day, Athyn mused. She was a little too small to have much effect with it right now, though.

Varvur crouched to get on a level with the girl. "I'm sorry, Meryni," he said sincerely. "I wanted to come, I promise, but an evil warlord kidnapped me to keep me from being with you on the day. I tried to fight my way out to you, but I didn't quite manage to free myself in time. Will you forgive me?"

"Well..."

Meryni clearly had to consider this very thoroughly. Athyn bit back a smile.

"All right," she finally said, in the tones of one bestowing a great favour. "If it was an evil warlord, I suppose."

Then she threw herself at him.

Varvur visibly relaxed as his arms closed around his sister. In that unguarded moment, Athyn could see all the exhaustion, stress and pain of his captivity written on his face.

Athyn Sarethi liked to think he was not a violent man, but that instant he found himself wishing fiercely for ten minutes alone with Bolvyn Venim and his mace.

After a few moments, Varvur straightened, his little sister held against his hip. Declarations of anger aside, Meryni looked perfectly content snuggled into his hold. On seeing his children like that, something within Athyn relaxed for the first time in weeks. Meryni was too young to truly understand why her brother had been gone, and her distress at Varvur's absence had torn at Athyn's heart.

"So," Athyn asked his son after a moment. "What happened?"

"What happened... you mean with- with Bralen and-"

"No, no." Athyn interrupted. "I mean your daring escape from the evil warlord's clutches, of course." He shot his son a smile, and was glad to see it returned after a moment �€“ even if Varvur's was still far fainter than he'd like.

Later, Athyn thought, there would be time to talk about the rest of it. About poor Bralen's death, about the team from the Temple that was right now turning his home upside-down in the name of 'cleansing' and whatever it was they'd removed from Varvur's quarters... about the shadows that lingered in his son's eyes and the disturbing tale borne to him by that young Armiger who'd come to inform him of the law finally recognising Varvur's innocence. But not now, not in the midst of what should be a happy reunion, and absolutely not with Meryni listening.

Judging by the glance Varvur shot his sister, he felt the same.

"My escape. Well. It started when two thieves showed up at the door to my cell..."

After a while, Meryni wriggled free and ran ahead; apparently the story didn't contain enough adventure and heroic derring-do for her. Well, Athyn thought while keeping an absent eye on the small figure, even if his daughter wasn't satisfied, it certainly contained more than Athyn himself had expected. Fair maidens, a battle with a fierce barbarian, a conspiracy uncovered - Varvur had been busy.

"...and then the Ordinator told me I'd been cleared of all charges and was free to go," his son finished.

Up ahead, Meryni was balancing on the rail at the edge of the canton. Watching her while he gathered his thoughts, Athyn had to fight down the urge to run and fetch her down. They were on the lowest level, after all �€“ if she should slip, a dunking would do her no harm. Athyn knew he would do his daughter no favours by seeking to wrap her in wool.

"Are you- what do you think?"

The naked uncertainty in Varvur's voice made Athyn turn, surprised. He wasn't sure he could ever remember his son sounding so unsure of himself.

"What do you mean?" What's wrong?

Varvur didn't meet his gaze. "Are you... ashamed?"

Athyn found himself momentarily speechless.

His son seemed to take his silence as agreement. "I didn't manage to escape on my own," he whispered. "I had to be rescued. And then I didn't even participate in the investigation-"

"Varvur-"

"-no, I hid in Ajira's house like some cowardly Hlaalu-"

"Varvur-"

"-sat playing games with a kid while other people risked their lives for me-"

"Varvur!"

Finally, Varvur stopped. The look of sheer misery on his face remained, however. It was clear that he'd managed to think himself in such a tangle a simple reassurance that no, Athyn was not ashamed of him (what an idea!) wouldn't suffice.

Athyn decided to try logic instead.

"Do you think Buoyant Armigers are weak, when they do not patrol Red Mountain alone?"

Varvur's brow furrowed. "No, but-"

"Or myself, if I call on our honoured ancestor Sarethi-Tavano to aid me against my foes?"

"Well, no-"

Athyn could still hear the doubt in his son's voice and readied the killing blow.

"How about Saint Nerevar? He sought out the Dwemer as allies against the Nords. Should I call him a coward for that?"

"Of course not!" Varvur bristled at the aspersion cast on his hero. "He did what was necessary at the time to free Morrowind!"

"Exactly!" Feeling victory at hand, Athyn pressed his point home. "Varvur, the stories Redoran tells of lone heroes against overwhelming odds are all well and good, but all too often the lone hero falls where a group triumphs. You think your story shows you in a bad light because others did much of the work. Do you know what I heard in it?"

Varvur shook his head.

"I heard that you waited without despairing, grasped the opportunity to escape when it came, made allies among people strange to you, and pulled all this together to get out of a situation I'm not sure I'd have managed to escape. A disappointment? Varvur, I don't think I've ever been so proud of you in my life."

The desperate hope in Varvur's face was painful to see. "Really?"

"Really." Athyn considered for a moment, then gave into temptation, reached up, and ruffled his son's hair. Over the yelped protest, he said, "Also, as far as doing nothing is concerned, I seem to remember something about you doing your best to save two defenseless women from a rampaging barbarian."

Varvur flushed. "Well, one of them wasn't quite so helpless-"

"Which you didn't know at the time, and when it sounds as though she couldn't have done anything without you to draw the threat away. My argument stands."

"I suppose." Although Varvur's words were doubtful, he looked lighter, as if some great weight had fallen from him.

Ahead, Meryni had reached an Ordinator. Athyn watched the interaction carefully �€“ true and honourable they might be, but Ordinators had always been notoriously rigid and unbending, and even more than that Athyn did not like some of the stories he had been hearing out of Vivec of late. Here, thankfully, there seemed to be no cause for concern, as the masked figure bent down to Meryni with grave patience. The level of indulgence on display made Athyn suspect the mer might be a fellow parent - a reassuring idea indeed.

"So," Athyn said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. "Tell me about your new allies."

"Well..." Varvur visibly gathered his thoughts. "Jamie is an honourable sort, I think."

"Jamie being the one in the Fighter's Guild?"

"Yes. She mentioned she'd joined the Imperial Legion before, up in Gnisis, but left because they ordered her to do something dishonourable."

Athyn frowned. The Imperial Legion demanding something dishonourable? In Redoran lands, no less? That was worrying indeed. He'd have to look into it... but later.

For now, he said, "I'm surprised she joined the Fighter's Guild, then. Mercius may be reasonable, but one healthy limb is no use when the heart is poisoned."

"I get the impression she didn't know," Varvur said. "From what Adryn said, she was certainly quick to side with the victim when they sent her to collect... 'debts'." Varvur spat the word.

A move that spoke volumes. Yes, it sounded as if Varvur had the measure of this Jamie... and Athyn had a good idea of how to reward someone like that for her part in his son's escape from Venim's trap.

Now, for the others.

"This Adryn is the girl who freed you from the Archmaster's Manor, correct? What about her?" Athyn prompted.

He watched in surprise as his son went puce.

"Her? She's a dishonourable, cowardly thief! Interrupting a fair fight �€“ by attacking my opponent with magic from behind! �€“ prepared to simply walk away from a man in need, mocking the very idea of honour, of responsibility-"

Varvur took a deep breath, then another. His voice was notably quieter when he continued, "...and I owe her my freedom, my sanity, quite possibly my life, she risked her own in the process, and I still have no idea why she chose to get involved."

Well.

Athyn doubted his son would have had the presence of mind to recognise that second part before his ordeal. Varvur had certainly grown in both spirit and maturity during his absence.

Athyn suspected he owed this Adryn significant gratitude for that in itself, without even taking into account the rest of it.

"So, what do you think-"

A squeal from up ahead interrupted Athyn. Meryni. His head snapped up.

"Um..." The chitin-clad figure his daughter was barrelling towards �€“ a rather familiar figure, come to think of it �€“ seemed rather taken aback. "Hel �€“ oof! - hello there, it's nice to see you too, I need to speak to your father... ah... if you could maybe let go..."

The Armiger �€“ Romandas, that was her name �€“ plucked ineffectually at Meryni, who responded by hugging her legs even tighter. As Athyn neared, he recognised the helpless expression of an adult who spent almost no time around children and thought of them as half extremely breakable porcelain figure, half unknown species of Daedra.

"Meryni, let go of Armiger Romandas at once. Do you want her to think House Sarethi consists of Nord barbarians?" Athyn scolded.

The heartbreak on Meryni's face as she disentangled herself was only matched by the relief on the Buoyant Armiger's. "But Father! I want her to tell me stories about battling evil on Red Mountain!"

"I'm sure she'll be happy to do so later." Athyn cheerfully ignored Romandas' expression saying she would be no such thing. "For now, I believe she said she had business with me?"

"Yes, and urgent at that." Now that Meryni had let go of her, the Armiger's tone was grave, and Athyn felt his heart sink. She brought ill news, he could tell, and he'd had his fill of that and more in the last few weeks.

Could he not have this one day to reunite with his son, unmarred by disturbance and disaster?

Athyn strangled the selfish thought almost before it had formed. He was Redoran. Duty was engraved in his blood and bone.

"Go on, Armiger Romandas," Athyn said.

"It's about Adryn..."



Notes: Now taking feedback on the new POV(s)! It's a temporary thing, but I'm a little nervous about it anyway.

Next

Since your character cannot be everywhere that related events are taking place, you have to decide if you'll tell that part directly with a different POV, or have that related to your character by someone who was present.

The latter requires it be directly related to the protagonist, which won't always be the case. Character-building for secondary characters is often the sort of thing that can only be done in asides like this one.

I'm assuming, of course that Varvur and Athyn et al. deserve this treatment, but we'll find out later, won't we?

@ghastley - The question I struggled with was more "do I show the readers this at all?" I opted for yes in the end, because I feel otherwise certain things would come way too much out of the blue when they occur, but it was a tough choice because I like to play my writerly cards very close to my chest.

That said, the first scene was definitely character-building... I admit that part of the impetus was that Varvur has been a major character in the last few chapters and might possibly continue to be so, is actually not a bad guy, and probably deserves better than to be viewed solely through Adryn's pov.

Last installment, Varvur reunited with his father and little sister. They were interrupted by Ervesa, who brought some worrying news about Adryn. I wonder what that could possibly be? For now, while they confer, let's have a little look at someone else...



"Here."

Gelduin accepted the purse and scroll of parchment Shazgob thrust her way with a dip of the head. By its weight, she guessed the purse held the promised wages. She'd have to make sure to find a quiet place to count it later. Shazgob was an honest sort, but there was no point in being too trusting about these things.

In any case, in her line of work, the parchment was more valuable.

She unrolled it, glanced over the seal at the bottom, then skimmed the words. Detected a bandit ambush north of Ald'ruhn... caravan avoided all encounters with hostile wildlife when she was scouting... found a campsite in the Ashlands... did good work.

High praise indeed coming from Shazgob gro-Luzgan, and anyone worth travelling with in western Vvardenfell would know the Orc's reputation well enough to be aware of that. As a scout without a guild affiliation, a letter of recommendation like this was priceless.

"You deserve all of it," Shazgob said gruffly. "Best scout I ever hired. You sure you don't want to come aboard permanently?"

Gelduin shook her head. "I appreciate the offer, but I'd get bored of always travelling the same route." She grinned at the caravan master. "No idea how you stand it, honestly."

That startled a rare smile out of him, she was pleased to see. "Too old for that sort of excitement, that's me. Malacath knows I'd have said the same in my younger years. But..."

For a long moment Shazgob was silent, penetrating stare resting on her as though he were trying to peer right through her to any secrets she was hiding. Gelduin forced herself to keep meeting his gaze evenly. Finally, he sighed.

"You didn't hear this from me, all right?"

Now this was interesting. "Of course not," Gelduin agreed smoothly.

"Could be we'll be travelling a different route soon enough." Shazgob was keeping his voice low. "One on the mainland. I told Albuttian about the blighted creatures you encountered – three, wasn't it, and one outside the Ashlands?"

"A guar, in the West Gash near Caldera. That's right."

"He's worried," Shazgob said grimly. "Said the Ghostfence doesn't seem to be capable of containing the spread, and none of the healers have come up with anything decent either. He's worried, his superiors are worried, and – reading between the lines – they might be thinking of doing something drastic. Way I see it, if you've been thinking of leaving Vvardenfell, this is the time. If you haven't been thinking of leaving, time to think again. You read me?"

It was an open secret that Shazgob was one of the eyes and ears of the Empire in Vvardenfell, someone people like Knight-of-the-Garland Cavortius Albuttian consulted in order to get the lay of the land. Sometimes, like now, he let a little information slip the other way.

That habit was one of the reasons Gelduin had made a point of cultivating the relationship.

"Thank you for the warning," she said now. "I do appreciate it. However, I'm not leaving Vvardenfell. It's my home, and I won't be chased away easily. I've already booked passage to Vos, anyway. Rumour has it one of M- one of Aryon's people is putting together a trade caravan to the Zainab. They'll need a good scout."

Silently Gelduin berated herself for the near-slip. Thankfully Shazgob didn't seem to have noticed anything amiss.

Shazgob shook his head. "No idea how you stand living near all those Telvanni, honestly. Or why you don't use the Mages' Guild to teleport back to Sadrith Mora like everyone else."

"Teleportation makes me queasy," Gelduin lied.

"Well then. On your fool head be it. If you change your mind, we'll be in Ebonheart for a few more days."

Several hours later found the last wagons of the caravan being unloaded under Shazgob's watch and Gelduin seated in the prow of the Frost-Ghost, her unstrung bow and pack at her side, the sea breeze tangling her hair. In the distance Vivec loomed on the horizon, but the wind was coming in from the Sea of Ghosts today, heavy with salt and bearing none of the stink of the city.

The scout smiled, letting her eyes close. She did like sailing. In another life, she might have become a sailor. In this one, it was a handy preference to have, considering the reception she got if she tried to make use of the guild guide system these days. After the third time that chit at the Vivec guild had refused her transport, she'd given up on the teleportation network entirely.

Thankfully for her, none of that had spread far – certainly not all the way to Shazgob's ears. Gelduin doubted the man would have been been quite so loose with his tongue if he'd heard that the Mages' Guild was refusing her service...

Certainly not if he'd heard the reason why.

When the ship docked beside Saint Delyn canton, Gelduin thanked the shipmaster in broken Dunmeris, gave him a generous tip from Shazgob's payment and sauntered off. Ano Andaram watched her make her way towards the Arena canton.

Fresh off the boat from Ebonheart, he thought. Some outlander come to see the wilderness of Morrowind, make a handful of drakes adventuring and spend it all betting on fights at the Arena. His cousin Birama would be indignant with rage at this point, proclaiming the outlander yet another invader from the Empire, most likely a cursed tomb-robber. Ano was more pragmatic. Her coin was good, and she'd gone to the effort of at least trying to learn Dunmeris. Surely that counted for something.

"Excuse me, do you sail to Hla Oad?"

Turning towards his prospective customer, Ano put the Bosmer out of his mind.

In the Arena canton, Gelduin entered a small tavern in the waistworks. As usual, the crowd was mostly outlanders, almost all conversation Tamrielic. The Arena, once used only for duels of honour or rank, now ran fights between hired fighters twice a week. For most natives, it was yet another hateful imposition from the unwanted Empire, and there were never many Dunmer in the audience. For many from Cyrodiil, it was a familiar taste of home in a strange land, and it sometimes seemed half the Imperial population of Vvardenfell flocked to the stands when a match was on.

"Hey, Vinnus!" Gelduin hailed the barkeep. "Any rooms free tonight?"

Half an hour later found Gelduin back in the tavern, pack and bow stowed in her rented room. Her netch leather had been exchanged for an embroidered dress, fresh and unwrinkled despite having been rolled up at the bottom of her pack for weeks (and the enchantment for that had been worth every single drake), and she'd teased her hair into the many-braided style that had been all the rage in Cyrodiil two years ago and finally made its way to Morrowind. To all eyes, she looked like a young woman from Imperial City, ready for a night on the town.

Gelduin ordered a tankard of mazte and settled in to wait.

Last installment, we dropped in on Gelduin, a simple scout from the Grazelands who'd just finished her trip with Shazgob gro-Luzgan's caravan. Or maybe not so simple after all, as she certainly seemed to be keeping some secrets. Last we saw her, she was waiting in a tavern in the Arena canton. Let's see what - or who - for...



Gossip spread quickly around the Vvardenfell Mages' Guild. Ranis Athrys' recruitment efforts notwithstanding, the core of the guild remained much the same as time went by, small and close-knit. Any occasion where even a few guild mages found themselves in the same room was quickly used as an opportunity to catch up on news. When that occasion was a guest lecture by Wizard Borissean – come all the way from Imperial City to study Dunmer levitation spells, was the word – when that lecture was followed by a meal in the private dining room at the Flowers of Gold.... when the words free drinks (which had a magic all of their own) were spoken...

On such nights enough gossip was exchanged to fuel any spy network for weeks.

With so much opportunity to swap tales, it was hardly a wonder that some of them concerned the guild's newest Apprentice. Said member would no doubt have been distinctly unhappy about this if she'd known, a fact that might have given some of the wagging tongues pause had she been there. As she was however mysteriously absent (a fact no one seemed to know the reason for, although some speculated she was too embarrassed to show her face), the gossip flowed unhindered.

"A learning disability?" Uleni Heleran leaned forward, eyes sparkling with interest. "First I've ever heard of such a thing."

"Wish I could say the same," Procyon Nigilius muttered and took a long drink from his shein, wondering whether he shouldn't order something stronger. He'd taught a guest class on advanced uses of the water-walking spell at the Arcane University on a research trip last year. No one knew quite what had happened, but rumour had it a certain Khajiit had been among the audience, and that the Arcane University's pond had needed to be replaced in its entirety.

"I don't see why we should let someone so unsuited to be a mage stay in the guild- ow!" Tusamircil rubbed his side. "Uleni!"

"If we're going to be kicking people out, there's someone else who ranks far above her on my list." Uleni glared at the Altmer. "Have some empathy for once in your life, will you? Poor girl – it must have come as a real shock. She deserves some moral support, not the boot."

"Admit it, Uleni, you're just wondering if you can use her in a prank," Medila Indaren threw in from where she was sitting with Tanar Llervi.

"Well..."

Nearby, Galbedir had engaged Folms Mirel from Caldera. "...of course, no way she can continue as my assistant. Unable to cast a Soultrap spell, I ask you! And enchanting and Mysticism are related, there's no saying she might not encounter the same trouble. Whatever Estirdalin says," she gave the Altmer, deep in conversation with Tiram Gadar and Senilias Cadiusus two tables away, a glance, "I'd rather not be blown up."

"Quite right, my dear," said Folms, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the smirk on Galbedir's face. "Enchanting is a difficult and delicate art, and there is no telling what havoc someone facing such challenges might wreak. Better she stick to throwing fireballs, or... or healing people, or..." Clearly struggling to come up with any schools of magic beyond his own, Folms resorted to a dismissive wave.

"...or alchemy," Galbedir muttered.

"Precisely. But," Folms' eyes lit up. "It's interesting you mention the connection between Mysticism and enchanting. I've recently come across an object which I would swear exemplifies Lor's Fourth Principle – there is no magickal residue on the second-layer simplices at all, and initially Galerion's Analysis only shows trace amounts barely greater than the standard background emanation from Magnus, but if you focus solely on the Atronach-Apprentice range and then tune it to take Lorkhan's Disjunction into account-"

Just as her smirk earlier, Folms paid no attention to Galbedir's increasingly horrified expression and attempts to edge away.

"-did tell her she was to work on the Dwemer," Trebonius expounded to Skink-in-Trees-Shade, who was giving every impression of listening intently. "Obviously, I'd spotted this inability of hers at the time. Simple matter for a skilled mage, really. No idea how it took Ranis and her people to long to suss out."

"Of course," Skink murmured. "It is an excellent thing, to find a way to let an apprentice grow and thrive who many would have abandoned. A good leader nurtures all in their charge, not just the ones who are easy to teach, so I have always believed." As Trebonius puffed up, the Argonian continued. "My gravest apologies for changing the subject, but I found myself... curious... about your newest assistant, Tiram Gadar. You said he was recommended by Ocato himself?"

"Indeed! Insisted we hire him on the spot. Been invaluable, let me tell you! But you'll have to ask Malven about the details. I never let myself be bothered with such things. My time's too important."

"I understand fully." Skink's voice was still calm and even, but his crest was straight and his eyes were glittering strangely. "Of course from your perspective these must all seem mere trivialities, and I do appreciate your patience..."

And so the conversation moved on.

Eventually, every evening must come to an end. As Masser rose higher and higher in the sky, people began making their apologies. So sorry, the enchantment desk won't man itself in the morning... Edwinna's got us heading out to Nchuleftingth at the crack of dawn... need to look in on those potions I set to simmer... want to sort out some business at the High Fane tomorrow and you know how early those priests get up...

In the bustle of people departing, numerous flashes from Recall spells and a queue forming in front of the rather put-upon Cassia, one more person leaving drew no attention. Anyone following them might have felt rather puzzled when their quarry started towards to the eastern end of the waistworks – quite the wrong direction for the Foreign Quarter and with it the guildhall, the Vivec members' residences, and all the inns that might be favoured by a visitor. And they'd certainly have been shocked when the figure ducked into a doorway and emerged a few moments later looking rather different.

But who would follow such a well-known, respected member of the guild?

In the Arena canton, Gelduin had switched from mazte to wick water two mugs ago in hopes of keeping her head clear. The tavern had filled up and she'd found herself needing to use all the cunning and skill at her disposal, supplemented by her trusty charm ring, in order to stay alone at her table. She was wondering whether to call it a night when a tall, broad-shouldered Imperial slipped into the seat beside her.

It wasn't the first, or for that matter the tenth, time that night that such a thing had happened, and Gelduin was fingering her ring trying to gauge the number of charges it had left when the Imperial spoke.

"And a good night to you, my dear." His accent, straight from the Nibenay Basin, would have raised eyebrows almost anywhere else in Vivec. Here, he was just another Imperial in the crowd. "See many cliff-racers on the way?"

"Mendaxto!" Smiling widely, Gelduin shifted forward to kiss the man. It was a rather long and thorough kiss by any standards, and when she finally broke away she still stayed close, half-on the Imperial's lap, her head on his shoulder.

"You're late," she hissed.

He bent his head to hers so that his mouth almost brushed the tip of her ear. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I couldn't get away." Then, a little louder: "Shall we move to a more... suitable location?"

The departure of a couple who were barely able to keep their hands off each other long enough to make it out the door raised no eyebrows at all. Such sights were common in the tavern come evening, especially on a day where Blue Team's newest Pit Dog had won such an astonishing victory over Red Team's experienced Myrmidon and Saprius Entius had bought a round for the whole tavern to celebrate. At most, they attracted some jealous glances from a few men who'd been eyeing the empty seat beside Gelduin themselves and hadn't noticed how all previous attempts to conquer it had ended with the interloper stumbling away looking rather dazed.

When they reached the small room Gelduin had rented above the tavern, the Imperial broke away and raised his hand. Green light flashed and raced out to settle in the corners of the room, keeping all sound within.

Any would-be eavesdroppers would have very little luck indeed.



Notes: My apologies for the awkward split this time - this section was hard to divide.