Does this dress make my butt look too big?

And in between talk of kitty licks, breast size and other prickly subjects, Clark tries to learn a bit more about the nature of the threat they face.

Loved this:
”Travelling across Cyrodiil with just a map and a shortsword seems easy to her."

Loved your world building of Khajiit lore here, having a pride of feral cats you have nailed their biological functions down amazingly well, lol.

Clark makes a great diplomat, but he met his match in Morgiah.

I absolutely loved this chapter, you have touched on so many facets so subtly they could have been missed if anyone thought the sole focus should be on all the mating calls in the air - Loved this! Awesome write !!!

Travelling across Cyrodiil with just a map and a shortsword seems easy to her.
I just love this line. It’s the exact attitude of many young characters who think they’re immortal in the game. (And actually are if you re-load them.)

"Do you think I'm just a slut?" Rinnala asked.
Quick thinking from Clark! Change the subject to breast size, and she’ll forget all about the slut question. Thankfully Morgiah could change the subject from all the way across camp.

I enjoyed the Khajiit discussion. I wonder if Clark will meet some Argonians? I still have some questions about them.

@Acadian: If you try to squeeze into Buffy's dresses, what do you expect? Not everyone can have the perfect petite posterior, and I suspect you've spent too much time sitting around on yours, (watching hers?)

@mALX: The real question is whether I've got the late-teen Dunmer's biological functions right.

@Grits: Just wait until Clark has to go on assignment with Nelrene, the Mazken, who actually is immortal. She tends to forget that Clark isn't. Clark has "interviewed" Dark-Eyes at Gweden, but that's only half the story.

------------------


Black Queen's Gambit - Part 5

Their next destination was Lakeside Camp near the road out of Chorrol, only a couple of hours away. They'd be able to bathe there, and If they got there early enough, they'd have time to try fishing for their supper, too. This was only a short journey, but there weren't any other campsites in Chorrol County, so their options were limited. Clark had already guessed where they'd head after that, as Bruma County was equally sparse.

It made sense that they'd be going north of the Imperial City. Although there were more campsites for a southern route, they'd have to cross the Niben somewhere. Morgiah would expect the bridges to be watched. That could also be an issue with the few trails through the mountains, but that was a much less hospitable area to lie in wait.

And some of that was patrolled by the Mountain Riders. He wasn't sure if their routes had changed, but Unna had been on the Lipsand Tarn to Hermaeus Mora Shrine stretch, and Claudia from there to the trail into Bruma. They'd likely see Pala between Dragon Claw Rock and the campsite, part of which was right on the trail. Then the next day's journey would probably see Svana and Ystrel, if they were headed for the Morrowind border where he expected. Most of the trip would be safe from whatever Morgiah feared.

That was assuming they didn't go through part of Skyrim. He didn't think that was probable, as Falkreath lay at the only border crossing, and they wanted to avoid towns. He didn't know much of Skyrim either, and he'd been told he'd be with them until the Morrowind border. So that meant going north-east of Cheydinhal somewhere.

But he was thinking too far ahead. It wasn't too far to Chorrol, and he needed to steer a little further North to avoid going too close to Pillaged Mine. They didn't want to get involved with any goblins.

So in avoiding the goblins, they met a troll instead. He and Rinnala readied their shields to block the beast's attack, while Morgiah began building up for a fireball. It seemed to hesitate for a moment, trying to decide which one of them it should charge first, when the fireball struck.

"Morgiah must have trained with the same teacher as Delphine Jend," Clark though to himself, as the troll's body flew through the air to land somewhere in the woods. "I'm just glad it didn't get close, or we'd have all been caught in that blast!" Rinnala must have been thinking something similar, because the look she gave her mother spoke volumes.

That was their only adversary, and the campsite was empty when they arrived. It wasn't far from Chorrol, and he doubted it got used much. Most honest people would get a room in town, and anyone who didn't dare show their face there would camp further away, or hide in a cave or mine. He asked Morgiah if she wouldn't prefer one of those options, but she didn't want to get trapped in a place with only one or two exits. Campsites out in the open were much safer, even here near the city. And he already knew there weren't any others they could reach before dark.

There was a small boat tied up at one end of the little lake. Since you could walk all round the edge in a few minutes, it obviously wasn't for getting to the other side. That meant there could well be fish to catch. They looked around the campsite for rods, or hooks, but found nothing.

"We'll have to use the Argonian method," Morgiah announced.

Clark looked puzzled until Rinnala explained. "Go down there and join them. If you don't have claws, a touch paralysis spell will catch a fish just as well as a hook. You just have to patient and let them come close to you."

"Well you can go do that, while I try to find a pan to cook it in," he replied. "I don't know that spell, and I only just learned to breathe underwater the other day."

He didn't find a pan, but there were a few plates, and one of them was metal. He hoped it would stand up to being used as a makeshift skillet. It didn't have to. Rinnala had found the cooking equipment in a chest on the bottom of the lake. Why it was there was a mystery, it didn't look worth stealing.

"My guess would be that whoever set up this camp didn't want to make it too hospitable, or he'd be run off by bandits. Probably an Argonian, if he hid the stuff under the water." Morgiah's idea seemed to make sense, except for one thing.

"But why would an Argonian need a boat?"

Rinnala's hasty retreat from the water gave them the answer. "There are Slaughterfish in there!"

"Then you won't have any problems persuading them to come to you," Morgiah gave Rinnala an evil grin and sent her back in. "Just look tasty."

---

"I wasn't scared of them, I was just startled to see any in a lake that small," she explained while they ate the creature that had tried to eat her. "I don't understand how they find enough to eat."

"Maybe the boat-owner feeds them," he suggested. "There's not many places around here you could catch one, so they'd fetch a decent price. And the scales are valuable to alchemists, so he could have been trading those too."

Morgiah wondered what they'd been fed on. "You didn't see any skeletons down there, did you?" she asked her daughter."It would be the perfect way to dispose of people who you need to disappear."

"No, and I'm not going back to look."

---

The day was only half over, but they weren't travelling any further until the next morning. That left them with nothing to do but read a book, or sunbathe on the shore of the lake. Clark tried to do the former, but with both women lying naked in the sun, he was finding it hard to concentrate on the story.

He decided to join them. Maybe if he were to lie down over there, then Morgiah would block his view of Rinnala, and he'd only have half the problem. And he wanted to talk to Morgiah about Mannimarco and the necromancers. He'd have enough time for that today.

Tomorrow they'd be passing near Echo Cave, where the Champion had fought Mannimarco. It would likely be an area where they could expect to run into necromancers, and any influence she still had with them would be worth knowing about. That gave hm the perfect excuse for bringing up the subject.

Morgiah was surprised to hear that Mannimarco had returned to Nirn. She hadn't been in Wayrest at the time of the Numidium event; she'd been on her way to Firsthold, but she had heard that Mannimarco had got his wish of becoming a god. Wasn't there something called the Necromancer's Moon to prove it?

At the time she'd dealt with him, he'd already been a Lich. He'd achieved a limited immortality, in that age and disease couldn't touch him, but he was still vulnerable to violence. Surrounding himself with trusted people helped that, but most of them were mortal, and needed replacing after a time. He'd also had to give something up to become a Lich, and putting aside the frailties of the flesh took away some of the pleasures, too.

Her problem with approaching King Karoodil was the opportunity he needed. Morgiah couldn't remember who'd contacted whom, but Mannimarco had agreed to help Karoodil speak with his dead son, if Morgiah would let him share her mind on her first night with her new husband.

Morgiah had experienced a lot of different things when it came to sex, but having someone else in her mind sounded like it might be creepy enough to spoil her fun. And, "Mine, not his?" she'd asked. She assumed that Mannimarco would be missing that side of the dance.

"Oh, I already know what it's like to sleep with you," he'd chuckled, in that disturbing way that only Liches can. "I leave it to you to guess which of your lovers had my help. ... Or how many."

She looked at Clark in a strange way. "You're experienced beyond your apparent years," she told him. "It almost makes me wonder if you haven't got an ancient Lich riding along with you."

Clark was used to Taminwe messing with his mind with off-the-wall comments like that, but that one was different. It left him more than a little uneasy.

The Mannimarco that the Champion had described didn't fit her picture either. He wasn't a Lich at all, and just appeared to be a normal Altmer, albeit one of prodigious magical ability. Apparently when the Jills of Akatosh repaired the Warp in the West and reconciled the branches of time, they chose to revert Mannimarco to his mortal form. Or maybe that was only part of him. Something kept the Necromancer's Moon functioning, and that hadn't stopped when the mortal Mannimarco died. Clark decided that he'd never understand the metaphysical.

The physical, he could handle, and that appeared to be what Morgiah felt, too. Rinnala had found the book Clark had abandoned, and was reading it as she let the warm sun work on her back. He slipped quietly into the main tent with Morgiah.

She didn't mind discussing the Necromancers, as long as it didn't distract him too much from what she wanted. And she preferred to do so where Rinnala wasn't listening. They weren't a group she had any sympathy for, and she didn't want her daughter getting curious about them. They were, at the time, a tool to be used. She wanted Karoodil, and only Mannimarco offered a means.

The information she gave him merely confirmed what he already knew about them. It appeared that any influence she might have had was lost by now. She'd had little contact with any necromancers in Firsthold, and only a few mer were likely to still be around from those she'd met in Wayrest. The chance of any of them being in Cyrodiil was minimal.

----------

Notes: The little pond with the boat at the dock is a familiar landmark north-east of Chorrol. I added a couple of tents and a campfire for the mod, plus putting a slaughterfish in the water to account for it all.

Despite the Legion Patrolmen and Imperial City guards all telling you to stay on the roads, it's a lot safer not to, so they aren't meeting much danger, except when there are bandits at the camps. And that wasn't all bad.

Awesomesauce in blue velvet! I see that the Diva of Destruction, Delphine, is as legendary in Clark’s world as she is in Buffy’s and Maxical’s!

’Rinnala's hasty retreat from the water gave them the answer. "There are Slaughterfish in there!"
"Then you won't have any problems persuading them to come to you," Morgiah gave Rinnala an evil grin and sent her back in. "Just look tasty."

Hiding the pots & pans at the bottom of the lake with a slaughterfish on guard duty. Yup, must be an Argonian's camp.

*



You absolutely have the teen female Dunmer down pat from everything I've read about them, lol.

I'm with Acadian on loving the whole fishing scene, and what a brilliant idea that Argonians would hide their valuables at the bottom so their campsites wouldn't be usurped! You never cease to surprise with your ideas !!!

Clark sending the women in to face slaughterfish while he stood around with a metal plate in his hands waiting had me rolling !!!

So did Clark thinking he'd only have "Half a problem" if Morgiah blocked his view of Rinnala. SPEW! Like it would only be half as high? Lol.

This floored me as totally awesome:



I have to agree with you on staying off road when traveling in Cyrodiil and Skyrim both - have always had much fewer problems that way. Totally Awesome chapter, I loved this one!


*

I knew exactly where you meant from your pond description, even though you added some parts. Xbox Jerric has spent some time in the Battlehorn Castle area recently. That pond is his bathtub. I love the cooking clutter in the secret chest. Sounds like an Argonian mystery to me! Love it.

"Oh, I already know what it's like to sleep with you," he'd chuckled, in that disturbing way that only Liches can. "I leave it to you to guess which of your lovers had my help. ... Or how many."

Yikes. Creepy. As is the thought that Clark might have an unknown passenger.

@Acadian: How could Delphine not be a legend? Her spell is in all the best catalogs.

@mALX: maybe, but it was Morgiah that sent her daughter back once it was known there were slaughterfish.

@Grits: My game doesn't have Battlehorn Castle, but that pond has always intrigued me with its pointless dock and boat. So I added the slaughterfish to make sense of it. It's a good thing Jerric didn't find it in his bathtub.

----------

Black Queen's Gambit - Part 6

They continued around the outskirts of Chorrol, taking care stay in the shadows of the trees. When they reached the trail leading north towards Cloud Top, they followed it for a while, before branching off east. At the first small bridge, Morgiah stopped to survey the hills above them. This was a likely spot for an ambush, as any travellers would have only one way across the small ravine. She cast a Detect Life spell, which revealed nothing, and they continued across.

Although the trail was narrow, Morgiah didn't seem so concerned about following it. They could get off the cleared path if they had to, and the higher ground was an awkward place for an attacker to reach. "Once we get up above the tree line, there won't be anywhere for them to hide," she reasoned.

With the trail itself as guide, Clark could spend some time talking to Rinnala as they walked. Taminwe had told him a lot less about her, than about her mother.

He asked about her combat teacher, the Orc that he knew was Gortwog's son, but she believed was just a hired mercenary. He'd obviously taught her short-sword, and he'd seen her in action, so he knew how skilled she was. "What about other weapons?" he asked.

Lumog (not his real name) had given her lessons in all the weapons, from Dagger to Claymore in Blades, and Maces to War-hammers, and all sizes of Axe in Blunts. She'd trained with bucklers, tower shields, and everything in between. He'd seen that her speed was more of an advantage than the reach of a longer, but slower, weapon, and had steered her to short-word, which could both cut and stab quickly. She preferred a light shield, too, for the same reasons.

"And the bow?" Clark asked. "Did you learn any archery, or do you use spells at range?"

Rinnala grinned broadly. "I didn't have the concentration to be a good archer. If there was a man anywhere near me, I'd be watching him instead of the target."

Clark hadn't seen her use any ranged spells. Morgiah had already mentioned teaching her some, so he presumed she had at least a little natural ability with magic. "Armor? I'd assume Orcish wouldn't be your style."

"No, it's as light as possible for me. And you can enchant leather to make it as impenetrable as steel or glass, so what's the point of anything heavy? Besides, tight leather can almost be a weapon for a woman."

"But I did learn to use any type of armor I might find. Lumog told me, too, that training in the armor would teach me what its limitations were. That would help me exploit them when my opponent was wearing it. So I'm proficient in Heavy Armor, even if I don't use it."

"You must have spent a lot of time with him," Clark reasoned. "That's a lot of ground to cover."

"Well, my brother and I started quite young. Kids are always getting into fights, and my mother wanted to be sure we'd win! And when I got older, she had other reasons for keeping me out of trouble. She trusted Lumog enough to let him teach me other things."

"Was he your only teacher, then?"

"Oh, no. There were other tutors for the academic subjects. Mostly boring old Altmer that spent all their time lecturing me, or making me write essays. The Alchemy tutor was a woman, and she taught me to make a few potions that a woman would find useful, and a male tutor might not have known about. And I did pay attention in philosophy classes. My mother had told me that one attribute men like in a woman is depth."

Clark managed to keep a straight face, and asked about speech-craft. That would be essential around the court. Did she have a special tutor for that?

Morgiah had taken that responsibility herself. What she taught wasn't just etiquette, but all the things a young princess would need. How to flatter an older man with her attentions, how to act naive and innocent, and the one that her mother had learned from Elysana - how to act dumb when you weren't.

She winked at him when she said that.

---

They were interrupted by the sound of a bear galloping along the trail towards them. Instead of the usual angry roar, though, they heard the delighted call of a Nord rider. Unna coaxed her bear to a halt, and leaped off to come and greet them. Rinnala was somewhat amazed at how little the Nord was wearing, and Clark had to explain about the bears' issues with armor, and frost shield, and everything.

"So Nords are resistant to Frost, like we're resistant to Fire." It made sense to her at last. "That makes them a good match to the requirements of the job. I suppose there aren't any Dunmer in the Mountain Riders."

Clark knew there was at least one, and there was a chance they'd meet Ystrel near the end of the trip. That would depend on where they intended to cross into Morrowind.

Morgiah had come over to them, and he introduced Unna. He didn't mention that his travelling companions were the Queen and Princess of Firsthold, but he did use their real names. Unna could be trusted, and besides, he'd forgotten if they'd ever decided on any false ones.

Unna told them that she'd met up with Claudia near the Hermaeus Mora Shrine, and she'd reported clearing a few bandits off her section of the trail. "Good, it usually takes a few days before any more come back.
That means we might get through the mountains without any opposition." Clark was pleased with the news, even if the timing also meant he was less likely to see Claudia.

"You'll probably meet wolves, though. And without a bear of your own, you could find a wandering brown bear crossing your path. They know when Thor's coming, and steer clear of us." Unna was proud of her mount, and grateful for his help.

Unna remounted and headed off along the trail they'd come along. They could count on the next section being clear of any threat, if she'd done her job.

---

The statue at the Hermaeus Mora shrine was visible from the trail. It was a little higher up the mountainside, and the main path curved away from it, with a side-trail winding up to the shrine. "Do we go past the shrine, or the other way?" asked Morgiah. "I'm detecting three life signs up there, and I don't know if they're hostile or not."

Three was the right number for the usual worshippers. He'd met them when he and Claudia passed them on the way to Sky's Edge Cave and Falkreath. An odd bunch, but not what you'd call dangerous. And anyway, they weren't going that way today. "We take the lower path," he replied.

Now they were a little closer to the shrine, he could just hear the drunken singing of Norasa. She'd apparently got another bottle from Unna, and he could picture her dancing in her underwear while the men watched. No, not dangerous, although the way Norasa sang might attract wolves.

---

The next part of their journey took them across several small bridges. Morgiah was extra-alert when they crossed each one, but nothing disturbed their passage. They heard wolves in the distance at one point, but didn't see any.

Before long, the trail forked again. Clark knew that to the West was Sancre Tor, not somewhere he'd want to go, especially with people he wanted to protect. They needed to go East, towards Bruma. This was the end-point of Claudia's route, and they hadn't met her. That could mean she was heading for the Lodge for a break, or that she'd been off the trail when they passed. Clark was hoping it was the first, as she'd have gone ahead of them along this next part of the trail. It was a section that didn't have a regular rider assigned. Gudrun had talked about riding the spare bear, the one that had been Uzgash's, along this way. Clark didn't know if that happened or not, and it wasn't likely to be often.

They'd soon be passing near Echo Cave. If there were any Necromancers left in the area, that was where they'd be. After that, there were Legion foresters that kept things relatively safe, although he'd had to duck an arrow or two when there were deer to hunt. At least they weren't actually aiming at him.

They left the trail when they got close to Bruma itself. It would have taken them too close to the city, and Morgiah didn't want that. It meant skirting around the Ayleid ruin at Rielle, too.

As they crossed the road that lead north to Cloud Ruler Temple, it was late afternoon. They'd need to make better progress if they were going to make it to Two-Decker Camp before nightfall. They chose to pass the battlefield where the wreck of the Great Siege Engine still lay among the rubble of the Gates. It was an area that wild animals still seemed to avoid, even this long after the battle was over. Rinnala and Morgiah gazed in awe at the size of the Daedric war machine, but nobody wanted to stop for a closer look.

They met Pala at Dragon Claw Rock. She'd just cleared a pair of bandits out of the camp they were headed for. "Yes, I know you did most of the work," she said to her bear, who seemed to understand what she was saying to them. "And you'll get your reward as soon as we get to the Lodge." Pala was clearly on her way for her break, so he didn't hold her up any longer than necessary.

"Give my regards to Timo," he called after her, as she headed down the road.

"Who's Timo?" asked Rinnala.

Clark had to explain why the Mountain Riders needed recharging services. "They go that long without?" Rinnala was incredulous. "That's definitely not a job for a Dunmer."

*


ROFL! Ain't it the truth!


Clark is insatiable, ROFL !!!

Loved this chapter, how nice to see the Bear Riders popping up! Awesome Write!


*

What a delightful tour east across the northern Jeralls! And how fun to see the bear riders again.

’After that, there were Legion foresters that kept things relatively safe, although he'd had to duck an arrow or two when there were deer to hunt. At least they weren't actually aiming at him.’
Quoted for truth!

‘They chose to pass the battlefield where the wreck of the Great Siege Engine still lay among the rubble of the Gates. It was an area that wild animals still seemed to avoid, even this long after the battle was over.’
Very cool, to point this out!

’Clark had to explain why the Mountain Riders needed recharging services. "They go that long without?" Rinnala was incredulous. "That's definitely not a job for a Dunmer."

@mALX: Clark is just anxious to make sure his friends are well. And a meeting with a bear rider means a clear trail ahead.

@Acadian: Those Foresters up by Bruma are a real nuisance. Before I made Darwen essential, I found her dead with their arrows in her corpse several times.


----------

Black Queen's Gambit - Part 7

Two-Decker camp was an unusual arrangement, with the campfire next to the trail, and a couple of small tents nearby, but a larger tent was up on a rise further away. There really wasn't enough flat space in either location for all the tents to be pitched together, so it was the best anyone could do. Being right on the trail, and one with a bear patrol to boot, you'd have thought it would have been unpopular with the bandits. Pala had remarked, however, that she'd have to clear it every few days. Apparently there just weren't many alternative sites they could use, so they kept coming back to this one.

"The only other one I know of is right up at the top of Gnoll Mountain," she'd told him. "I never bother going up there, as you can't do anything but turn round and come back. If there were any bandits, they'd have nobody to steal from. And my job's to keep the trails open for travellers. None of them would go that way, so I don't."

Clark knew that this was likely to be the last night he had Morgiah and Rinnala to himself. They'd probably reach the Morrowind border the next day. Morgiah had apparently abandoned her idea of departing at random, in favor of making quicker progress. Although he expected they'd camp before going across, it was likely they'd meet their guides for the next part of the journey.

They were apparently thinking the same thing. The two women were whispering to each other, and glancing in his direction. He wondered what they were cooking up between them. He turned back to feeding the campfire, and awaited their decision.

---

He woke up on a bedroll in the tent, with his hands and feet securely tied to the tent-poles.

"Rinnala was just saying how lucky she was that the Orcs had sent you to look after her," said Morgiah. "Too good to be true, was how she put it. And that made me think it might just have been too perfect. And then suddenly, it all made sense. You weren't sent to guard us, you were going to kill us. So before we kill you, you're going to tell us who sent you on this job."

Clark needed to stall for time. "If that was the plan, why would I have waited this long? We've been travelling alone for days. I've more than enough chances to kill you before now, if I'd wanted to."

"Well, I assume you were having fun when we .. had fun, and didn't want that to stop. But that wasn't the only reason. Tomorrow would be the ideal opportunity to blame the Commona Tong for the killing."

"This isn't Morrowind, even if we are getting closer. Where would I find anyone from that bunch here? They're not creatures or undead that can just be summoned. And if I wanted someone else to blame, there have been enough bandits."

Morgiah was silent for a while.

"He doesn't know, does he?" Rinnala accused her mother, who was looking a bit perplexed.

"Know what?" asked Clark.

Morgiah didn't answer, so Rinnala did. "About the guys from the Commona Tong that are going to take us across the border. They usually smuggle Skooma, but they'll take anything that pays. They're waiting at the next camp."

Rinnala glared at her mother, who was pacing at the entrance to the tent. "Don't interrupt me, I'm thinking" Morgiah snapped at her.

After a short amount of further pacing, Morgiah apparently came to a conclusion, and turned to address Clark. "I told you at Atrene Camp that I assumed you'd been sent to see to Rinnala's needs. I'd asked the Orcs to get us a guide, but I know Rinnala would have mentioned her wishes as well. And I think you were being honest when you told me that your local knowledge was more important than your fighting ability. At least,for getting us across Cyrodiil. So most of your actions on this trip have been above board."

"But I'd had far too much of a good time myself to think that was just a coincidence. I like to keep a cat as a pet, and it amuses me to see the way they play with a mouse when they catch one. I was starting to think you were just playing with your prey."

"I'm so sorry I misjudged you," she wailed and started to untie him. Rinnala started to help her mother but was shooed away. "No, I've to apologise properly. You go and make our supper while I make amends."

When Rinnala left, Morgiah brightened up. "That didn't end too badly. I've got you to myself after all!"

Clark was starting to wonder if this hadn't all been Morgiah's plan all along, but he said nothing about that. What had him more interested was this Commona Tong connection. He'd always thought that House Hlaalu had good relations with them. It made sense that they'd be involved with smuggling the two across the border. What didn't make sense was that they'd suspect him of trying to blame their murders on them. He didn't see who'd gain from that. When he got the chance to ask Morgiah, she didn't know either. But anyone who wanted to weaken House Hlaalu would try to drive a wedge between the two, wouldn't they?

"If we were still in Wayrest, I'd have suspected Elysana, but she's got no interest in the affairs of Firsthold or Mournhold. They're just too far away to affect her."

She'd considered Indoril and Redoran, too, but the only motivation there would be revenge, and there would be no need to involve the Cammona Tong. Morgiah was convinced there was some other faction involved. Perhaps the one that was causing unrest in the Summerset Isle, whoever they were. Those people had something really big planned, she was sure of it.

"And I was wrong, wasn't I?", she admitted. "You weren't trying to harm us. But I'm still not feeling safe until we get to Mournhold."

She wasn't changing her plans to go with the Commona Tong tomorrow. Clark had already told her he didn't know Morrowind, and they did. Especially how to get across the border, now that the Valus Passage was blocked.

Clark had heard Ystrel's story about the Mythic Dawn that had captured her there. The Champion and Pala had rescued her, and tried to hide the torture instruments they were intending to use. She'd seen enough to have nightmares for weeks after that. It made him think about what he'd been told of The Beautiful in the Summerset Isle. Had that been what happened to the King of Shimmerene's daughter? Was there any connection between The Beautiful and the Mythic Dawn?

Rinnala's voice interrupted his musing. Supper was ready.

---

"What will you doing once you get to Mournhold?" he asked them as they ate. "We haven't heard a lot from Morrowind, and I've no idea of the situation there. Are you sure you won't just be turning round and coming back?"

"A lot depends on how secure my brother's hold is on the Hlaalu territories. I've heard that the Daedra devastated some of the other houses, and their neighbours are fighting over the remnants. I expect those areas will remain unstable for a while, but Mournhold itself should be safe. Redoran has problems with Skyrim, so they won't be an issue until they get those sorted out."

"Helseth renouncing the slave trade has caused major changes, hasn't it? I thought Hlaalu was among the most dependent on their slave workforce."

"Possibly, but I think it was inevitable that he'd need other sources of trade than agriculture. And it kept him dependent on House Dres for the slaves. They mostly arrived by boat, around the coast, where Dres was in control. That move changed the balance of power, as much as the Daedra had. I doubt it bought him much support from Elsweyr and Black Marsh, but it might keep them neutral."

"Mother will probably want to stay in the city, but I'd like to travel as much as I can," Rinnala stated. "It wasn't safe to leave Firsthold, even without the Daedra at our door, and this trip across Cyrodiil has been an eye-opener. I want to see more of the countryside, and they tell me Morrowind has scenery like no other province."

Clark glanced over at Morgiah, expecting her to tell Rinnala that it wouldn't be possible. But, instead she just shrugged. "Maybe, we'll have to see when we get there."

"I've not been to Morrowind yet," Clark told Rinnala, "but I've heard others say the same. If you do get to travel, write and tell me about it."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Morgiah interrupted. "What if someone intercepts the courier? Then they'd know where she is."

Clark could see two flaws in Morgiah argument. "If they knew where to intercept the courier, they'd probably already know where Rinnala was. And I'm not suggesting she sign her name and let the world know. If she writes anonymously, it will just look like any tourist writing home about their travels."

"If you two want to keep in touch, I'd want a more secure method than writing letters," Morgiah insisted.

"I might just know of one." Clark saw an opportunity here that he hadn't expected. He described the flash signalling system that Uzgash had devised. "We'd need to deliver one to you in Mournhold, but then you or Rinnala would have a way to communicate with me that you could trust to be secure."

"Whoever operates it would need to be someone trusted, but that's the same as trusting a courier. And Rinnala would have to come back to Mournhold to use it, but that's not an issue." He could see that Morgiah had figured out that it would make Rinnala dependent on her for the use of the machine, and she liked that. Rinnala might also have seen that, but she wasn't saying anything.

For a minute there I thought we'd lost Clark !!! GAAAAAAH !!!! WHEW !!! Awesome Write !!!

It was fun to hear Clark describe the familiar Two-Decker camp in the northern Jeralls. I agree with Pala; camps right on the road lack a certain sense for bandit use.

The way poor Clark was awakened really shows how paranoid Morgiah is. Despite Morgiah’s skill in a bedroll, Clark seemed quite forgiving for having his service rewarded by such mistrust. Methinks he needs to trade these two in for a bear rider.

"Well, my brother and I started quite young. Kids are always getting into fights, and my mother wanted to be sure we'd win!
A very practical approach to parenting.

My mother had told me that one attribute men like in a woman is depth."


I've heard others say the same.
I always smile when you work familiar bits of dialog into your story. Another one was the bears steer clear of them.

@mALX: I think he was getting a bit worried, too, but he won't be in an real danger until a few weeks from now.

@Acadian: Yes, Morgiah's definitely been spooked by the events in the Summerset Isle. Since Clark knows that, and it's his job, she's getting a lot of free passes.

@Grits: I might have dropped another quote in here, too.

---------------

Black Queen's Gambit - Part 8


"You really surprised me when you asked Rinnala to keep in touch with you," Morgiah told him as they travelled towards Walker Camp. "Most men are only too pleased to let a young woman go after they've had their fun. But then again, this was the first time I've know her sleep with the same man she's already seduced once. Perhaps she'll learn something from that!"

"I don't think either of us would regret a rematch," Clark agreed. "But I doubt we'll get much chance for that. I want her to know she's made a friend, and not just a memory. And I really am curious about Morrowind. I've heard a lot of tales, but most were from before the Daedra came. The rest weren't much help, as they just went on about what had been lost, and told me nothing of what remains."

Morgiah, being Queen of Firsthold, tended to see everything from the political viewpoint, and undoubtedly there was the same bias in all communication she received from her brother, Helseth. "The deaths of Dagoth Ur, Sotha Sil and Almalexia would have been the bigger disruption, and the Daedra had nothing to do with that, as far as I know. My brother's decision to renounce the slave trade wasn't either."

"I'd heard that Ald'ruhn was destroyed, much the same as Kvatch was," Clark pointed out. "That was entirely the result of Dagon's invasion."

"And many are saying that they took Vivec from us," Morgiah conceded. "But that's as likely to have been the Nerevarine's doing. The power struggles after all that will be with us for years."

"These are turbulent times in the land of the Dunmer," Clark agreed, "but I have to see things from a larger perspective. The Guild of Prostitutes, who sent me on this trip, have interests in all the provinces, and they're getting worried about the same Altmers that have you concerned. There's a disruptive force in all of Tamriel that we can't pin down, and the more we find out, the better."

Morgiah's interests were more narrowly focused, but she agreed that keeping each other informed about those Altmer was useful to both of them. "How do Rinnala and I contact you once we part company at Walker Camp?"

"You can always reach me through the Red Dragon Club," he told her. "They never close, and there's always someone who can pass on a message to me. If we can get one of the signalling devices set up for you, it will be even easier."

"There's still a privacy issue about that method that concerns me. I can trust a courier, at least of my own, not to open a letter he carries. Whoever operates the signalling system sees the content they're sending."

"So use it yourself, it's not complicated."

"But how do I know it's you, and not a servant, at the other end?"

"Well, for the few times you need to be sure, just ask me a question to which nobody else knows the answer. Such as details of this trip."

Morgiah seemed satisfied with that idea. He wondered what she might want to tell him that needed that kind of security, but it was likely she was just being careful. Sometimes it paid to assume the worst that could happen.

Clark made a point of telling Rinnala the same, and let her know that her mother was agreeable. If Morgiah wanted to change her mind later, a bit of pressure from Rinnala might make a difference.

---


They were starting to come down below the tree line, and Morgiah was wary of what might be waiting for them among the trees. She cast a Detect life spell and saw a small cluster of life signs in the distance.

"What's over there?" she asked, pointing.

Clark sighted along her outstretched arm. "The Azura Shrine is in that direction, and there are always a small group of worshippers there. It's up a side trail, and we can check again when we reach it. This trail goes around it, without ever getting any closer than this."

"We'll also be passing the Temple of the Ancestor Moths, and the Rugdumph Estate, later. They'll both be off the trail, and nobody should be aware that we're going by," he continued. "And we turn off to get to Walker Camp well before we reach Cheydinhal."

"What about that one? It seems to be on our path, and coming our way."

"It could be Svana, another of the Bear Riders. This is her patrol route, and we haven't passed her yet. Or it could be a wild animal. She's mentioned wolves, bears and even mountain lions in the area."

It was Svana, and she reported that the trail was clear ahead of them. At least to the Temple turn-off, she didn't patrol past there. "But then you're getting close to the Rugdumph Estate, and Ystrel's patrol starts just beyond that at the Ayleid ruin. It's not likely you'll run into anything."

The ruin was Fanacas, a little beyond Walker Camp, so they most likely wouldn't see Ystrel.

"Oh, yes you might," Svana corrected him. "The trail goes to both, so Ystrel has to pass near the camp to get there."

---

Ystrel was at the camp, chatting to the Camonna Tong. "Don't let me catch you with any skooma, and we won't have any issues," she was telling them. "My job is keeping the trails safe, not collecting duties. Do we have an understanding?"

"We're just the couriers, so half the time we have no idea what's in the crates we're moving across the border. It doesn't pay to be nosy, and look inside them, if you know what I mean."

"So if you don't know what you've got, it's most likely skooma?"

"Something like that. But we don't ask."

"They know what they've got this time," Morgiah announced as she strode into the camp. "And I'm sure Rinnala won't mind if they peek inside the wrappings."

Clark made the introductions, but it appeared that he wasn't getting names for the two from Morrowind. Ystrel was happy to see him again, but she didn't have any time to stop and ... be social ... now. Perhaps she'd see him at the Lodge? She made sure Clark knew when she'd be off-duty next.

Ystrel's bear was sniffing curiously at the two women. They looked a little alarmed at the huge creature's interest, but Ystrel was quick to calm their fears. "He's just deciding if he likes you. He did that to me the first time we met, and it was a week before he'd let me ride him. He'd trained with Nords, and hadn't got used to Dunmer. I had to eat like a Nord, and drink like a Nord before I smelt like one, and he'd accept me. Now he's used to me, it's a different story."

"The way Gudrun explains it, it was sleeping with a Nord that made the difference," Clark laughed.

"Can't just be that, or he'd never let me go out on patrol," Ystrel retorted. "He'd insist that I spend more time with Timo."

Rinnala continued to be amazed that Ystrel was prepared to spend as long as she did away from the Lodge. The two young Dunmer chatted a bit longer before Ystrel really couldn't stay, and mounted her bear again.

"I couldn't do her job," Rinnala said.

Morgiah reminded her that she had a different destiny at court. "She probably couldn't stand being stuck inside a palace all day. And entertaining boring old dignitaries from other provinces, and all the other things you'll be doing."

"It's not that appealing to me either, but I know I can do it if I have to. I'm glad I've had this trip to get away from all that, and I hope you'll let me see a bit of Morrowind too."

"That will have to wait until we know the situation at Mournhold. It will be safer than the Summerset Isle, or we wouldn't have left, but how much, I don't yet know."

"You'll let me know, too, won't you?" asked Clark. "I'd like to keep in contact with Rinnala."

"We'll keep in touch," Morgiah assured him. "Send me one of those things you mentioned, as soon as you can."

Clark took the hint that she didn't want the Camonna Tong to know about those, at least until she understood what advantage they gave her. He nodded, and reluctantly left the camp to head into Cheydinhal.

Helseth renouncing the slave trade and the reminder about turbulent times in the land of the Dunmer are fun reminders of in-game rumors that help neatly bridge story and game with a welcome familiarity.

Nice to see Ystrel and her bear again.

So Clark helps the noble duo get to Walker Camp and is done, for the moment, with his escort duty. Methinks he needs an ale at Cheydinhal.

I've heard a lot of tales, but most were from before the Daedra came. The rest weren't much help, as they just went on about what had been lost, and told me nothing of what remains."

This is exactly how I feel when I'm trying to learn about a place for a setting. OK, so these things were burned to the ground, but what is it like there NOW? Very well said!

And also, yay bears!

@Acadian: Clark prefers the wine at the Red Dragon Club, but that may have something to do with the company that comes with it.

@Grits: The rumors don't give much detail, so I may have to make some up later. Especially about Thalmor activity in Morrowind and elsewhere. But that's for the next part.

Previously: Clark has escorted Morgiah and Rinnala from Anvil to the Morrowind border, using the scenic route that avoids all the cities. He's persuaded them to take one of the flash signalling devices, so he can keep in touch with Rinnala, but it needs to be delivered.

------

Black Queen's Gambit - postscript


"How did you get past Shurgak?" Taminwe asked the Argonian.

"Can I mention using the rear entrance, or will you take that the wrong way?" Amusei smiled. "I don't want you charging me for services I haven't had!"

She laughed, but nobody was supposed to know about the way in and out through the sewers. Still, the Thieves Guild knew a lot about getting into places they weren't supposed to. She'd asked them to provide a good messenger to take the signal apparatus to Morgiah and Rinnala in Mournhold, and Amusei was the one they'd sent. He'd just proved his worth in that respect.

He must have picked the lock on the outside grate, too. That was no ordinary lock, and she was impressed. Amusei told her that Minx had insisted he get extra training on his lock-picking. She'd noticed that he was good at knots and his dexterity should be an asset. He followed orders well, too, and he could execute a plan if someone else made it. He just wasn't much good at making plans of his own.

"Knots?" Taminwe asked. She knew about Minx's little fetish from Clark. Argonians can't blush, but Amusei did look a little uncomfortable.

"Amusei does perform a few services specifically for the Guildmistress," he admitted. "Perhaps that is why she takes an interest in his training. Apparently it is not just his rope-work that meets with her satisfaction."

He'd aroused more than just her curiosity. "I think you'd better tell me more about that."

---

Clark had told Taminwe all about Rinnala and Morgiah and the Khajiit bandit. She knew he'd be as eager as she was to know what their first message on the flash communicator would be about.

"I'm betting that she won't mention Amusei," Taminwe said. "After all, they'll be sending it to you."

"Well, I think you're wrong. Morgiah won't want anything too important in the first communication. But she'll want to tell us a secret that she can check up on later. Amusei may be the perfect subject for that."

"I see what you mean. If she hears the same story from anyone but you, she won't trust this channel of communication with anything major."

"Precisely. So I really hope that Amusei doesn't want to brag about his adventures in Morrowind, assuming he has some. No, I know Rinnala, he'll have them. And if Morgiah knows about it, then he may get a lot more than he expected."

---

It took a few days for the Argonian to reach Mournhold. A few more before he got access to the intended recipients. It was over a week before they'd let him leave again. Despite that, Amusei was back in the Red Dragon Club to report the success of his mission before the ball first glowed. He was there in person when it did.

"Was M or R first with K?" That was the challenge question that would reassure them that it was really Clark at this end.

"R, but only first." he replied.

"M first with this apparatus. R first with A."

Everyone turned to look at Amusei. Again he looked embarrassed, but he just nodded.

Clark asked Morgiah why they'd waited so long before using it. She replied that she'd wanted to practise the code before sending her first message. It wouldn't be good to send something garbled, because they messed up. So she and Rinnala had used tankards and candles, just like he'd described the inventors using, until they were confident enough.

"R here. M busy with A, too. There was a lot of silk rope involved."

Amusei explained that a thief carries silk rope because it's quieter. That's important when you're trying to scale the outside wall to an upstairs window.

"And it can be useful after you get there?" Taminwe raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps. It depends on who you meet."

Rinnala wanted to know who to thank for sending Amusei. Her first Argonian, and according to her mother, more than just an ordinary one.

"Does she know about Minx?" Taminwe asked Clark.

Clark didn't recall mentioning her at all. He decided to avoid Rinnala's question.

"Thanking Amusei himself was enough," Clark sent. "He's here, if you have any message for him."

"Just remind him to be discreet." It was clear that Morgiah was back at the key. She soon signed off without passing on any more details. Now Amusei was back, they could get it all from him.

"So who do you prefer?" Taminwe asked. "Does Minx have some competition now?"

"The one you are with is always the best," he replied. "And unless she knows otherwise, she's the only one!"

----

A few days later, the little ball was flashing again, and this time it was Rinnala. Once she'd established that it was Clark at the other end, she posed her question.

"If I told you I was pregnant, how would you react?"

Taminwe was watching, and she'd caught that last transmission. The look on her face was of total horror.

"I'm no Tiber Septim. It would all depend on how you felt about it," Clark responded.

"How can you take this so calmly?" Taminwe was almost shouting. "If Rinnala's expecting, we have a major problem on our hands!"

"That was a hypothetical question," Clark assured her.

"I don't see how you're so certain. Dunmer don't know when they're becoming fertile, and it usually comes as a surprise."

"They may not see it coming, but that doesn't mean that others don't. Morgiah had noticed that she'd gone from her early phase of wanting all the men to have sex with her, to wanting them to fall in love with her first, and then have sex. Apparently I was the first one she'd gone back to for more, and she'd remembered that turning point from her own younger days. Barenziah naturally had her own reasons for telling her daughter all about that. So Morgiah had been extra-vigilant in making sure that Rinnala was being careful, before she needed to."

"Oh, right Barenziah's there in Mournhold! So that's what the Tiber Septim reference was about."

"Exactly."

Rinnala couldn't hear what they were saying, of course. She still wanted to know if that would affect how Clark felt about her.

"Of course a man feels differently about the mother of his child," he replied. "And he might feel another way about a woman who was pregnant with somebody else's. And it matters whether he has a wife already, or if he's an Emperor or a beggar."

"Stop teasing her," Taminwe told him. "She doesn't want general answers. This is about you and her."

"Not if we're discussing pregnancy," Clark corrected her. "Once she admits that she isn't, we can get personal again. And she's the one who started the teasing, so she can take the consequences."

"Not the best turn of phrase in the - hypothetical - circumstances. Don't tell her that!"

"I'm not, but I've been talking to my grandmother about her young days, and the first time she was expecting."

"Told you so."

"And I imagine your mother knows that," Clark sent. "Did she suggest your line of inquiry?"

"I'm assuming that Morgiah wants her to move on to the next phase, of wanting men to fall in love with her, so she can control them. That's where Morgiah herself seems to be stuck," he told Taminwe, as he waited for Rinnala's response.

"So that Rinnala can control them, or does Morgiah expect to be doing that?"

"Good point, but there's not a lot of difference until she starts to assert her independence."

"Actually it was both mother and grandmother. I think they both see some advantage in having a string they can pull in Cyrodiil. Or is it Orsinium? Who do you work for, anyway?"

"I'm never sure if it's Sanguine or Dibella," he replied. "The Red Dragon Club pays me, but my loyalty is to my friends."

"Am I a friend?"

"Now you've stopped pretending to be pregnant, you are."

How wonderful that you used Amusei here! And you really portrayed him true.

"Was M or R first with K?" - - Okay, I give. You’ll have to tell me who K is? I followed the rest of the ‘code’ well enough.

"The one you are with is always the best," he replied. "And unless she knows otherwise, she's the only one!" - - Why, Amusei! You’re way more clever than we thought!

Urp. Methinks M & R are rather high maintenance. I wonder if Clark regrets sending them the comm equipment.

EDIT: Thanks for the answer below! Ya know, I thought about the Khajiit, but couldn't think of his name. Makes sense now. Thanks again!

I never gave him a name in that episode.

Black Queen's Gambit - Part 8:


Loved the bit of Lore here, and the discrepancy in how Morgiah and Clark view the events via rumors and conjecture! I am loving this whole questline!

Black Queen's Gambit - postscript:




SPEW!

Oooh, will there be little Clarks running around the Palace? Aw, it was a guise, oh well, lol. Is this the end of the questline? I loved this one (the questline), Awesome Write throughout!

@Acadian: In the game, Amusei always comes across as incompetent, yet he becomes the Grey Fox's personal messenger. He must have seen something positive in the Argonian, so Minx would have seen that, plus any personal interests in his skills.

@mALX: Yes, end of the Morgiah/Rinnala quest, although I've deliberately left an opening for more contact later. They should be a useful conduit for news from Morrowind.

And now on to the next quest. Again based on the mod, but without the limitations of the game.

----------

Medora - part 1

When Clark and Taminwe needed to discuss anything, they always went to one of the bedrooms at the Club. There wasn't an office, and the bar was too public for what they usually needed to talk about. While he was just a reporter, and an under-cover agent, it made sense that they appear to be just a working woman and her client.

And in the earlier days, it was training, as much as debriefing. He'd needed to practice doing that and thinking at the same time. Even when his partner was distracting as Taminwe could be. The same applied to her, of course. She needed to hone those skills as much as he did, and much appreciated his help!

Now he was manager of the Red Dragon Club, they didn't need to. They still did, but the original reason had long ago been overtaken by a better one.

Clark was used to a continuous stream of chatter from Taminwe, even during sex. The only time she was quiet was when she ... no, she was often noisy then too, it just wasn't talk. After that, maybe she'd quiet down, especially if she was tired. But then he'd be tired too, and maybe fall asleep and miss that precious silence.

He'd almost fallen asleep this time, when Taminwe suddenly sat up with a shocked expression on her face.

"There's someone in my head!" she exclaimed.

There was indeed. Telepathy is a bit disconcerting, the first time. Taminwe was familiar with the concept, but she'd not had the patience to take the training for it. You needed to meditate in a darkened room, clearing your mind of everything, so that it could become receptive to the thoughts of others. Taminwe's mind was always too full of intrigue and plots, except when that had all been flooded out by ...

"Sorry, Medora, my mind's rambling." she said. "I'm surprised I didn't break the connection."

"Who's Medora?" asked Clark, but Taminwe shushed him back to silence.

"Yes, we had just been doing that," Taminwe said, apparently in response to her telepathic partner. "Are you getting everything I feel, as well as think?" Clark had never seen her blush before.

"Yes, he is rather special. Of course, I didn't know your Lysandus, so I can't compare, but I imagine they have a lot in common."

"Do you really think so? That would certainly explain why we understand each other so well. We always thought it was the other way round, that we each knew what the other was thinking because we spent so much time together. Can you do telepathy unconsciously like that?"

Clark was beginning to hear the other side of the conversation, too. The woman's voice was soft, but resonated like she was in a much larger chamber than this small bedroom. He felt compelled to announce that he was becoming part of the discussion.

Medora replied directly to him. "So you can hear me too? Excellent! Taminwe's told me so much about you. More than she intended, I'm sure."

"More than I thought I could tell," Taminwe admitted. "You can't express some things in words, but it seems like I didn't have to."

"I wish I'd made contact a little earlier." Medora's voice had a humorous, but wistful tone to it. "Apparently I just missed some major fun."

Medora explained that she'd lived alone in Direnni Tower ever since Lysandus died. He'd been the King of Daggerfall, and she'd been his court sorceress, and mistress. After his death, his wife, Mynisera, had banished her from the court. She didn't have any reason to stay at that point, so she left willingly.

She'd spent the next few years trying to resurrect Lysandus, but she'd only succeeded in raising undead all over the Island of Balfiera. The Tower itself was now populated entirely by undead; zombies, skeletons, liches, and ghosts. They were harmless to Medora, as they owed their existence to her, but they kept visitors away rather effectively.

At the time, she couldn't leave the Tower either. Nulfaga, Lysandus' mother, had gone mad when he died, and she'd falsely believed that Medora had contributed to her son's death. She'd put a curse on the place to stop her leaving. Nulfaga was as powerful a sorceress as Medora, although as a Breton, a shorter-lived one. Medora had been prepared to wait her out.

However, she had nowhere else she wanted to be. Without Lysandus, the Direnni Tower was as good a home as any other. She was able to research her alchemy and mysticism without disturbance, and for a time that had suited her. The whole Warp in the West had happened without her being aware of it, and it was only when she reached out later with telepathy that she found out about the new order in the Illiac Bay.

The Imperial agent she'd dealt with at the time had completely disappeared. He was one of the few people she'd been able to contact telepathically who wasn't of the Direnni clan. The late Nulfaga was another, and she'd mentioned contacting the agent, too. It seemed that some men had the capacity, but most didn't.

"Are you a Direnni?" Clark asked Taminwe.

"Yes, on the maternal side, which is where it counts for magical things," she replied. "But there's a lot of Dunmer, and Breton, and other races mixed in on the paternal side."

Clark certainly saw the Dunmer influence. She may not have had the compulsion to promiscuity that he'd just seen in Rinnala, but Taminwe made it no secret that she enjoyed her work. And her looks weren't as starkly elven as some other Altmer, so he appreciated the contributions of the other races.

"That would certainly account for my being able to reach her," Medora added. "You're the one that's a bit of a mystery, Clark. An Imperial's not normally a telepath."

Clark's parents had both been Imperial, although he didn't recall the races of his grandfathers, who'd both died before he was born. There was no guarantee that the men who'd married his grandmothers were actually his ancestors, of course. Plenty of opportunity for Altmer in his family tree, and quite possibly Dirreni. He just didn't know. Nulfaga was a Breton, and she'd been able to do it, so maybe it was a Breton thing in his case, too.

He'd aroused Medora's curiosity. Possibly more than that; he wasn't sure just how much she'd got from Taminwe. Medora wanted to come and visit them.

Balfiera and the Direnni Tower were a long way from the Imperial City, but Medora wasn't planning on traveling overland. She asked Taminwe to listen carefully, while she taught her a new spell. "You can listen in, too, Clark, but this one might need more magicka than you can muster at present."

Taminwe cast the Mark spell, and Medora seemed pleased with the result. Clark couldn't see that anything had happened, but that all changed as Medora cast another spell herself.

A small column of purple mist appeared in the corner of the room where Taminwe had cast her spell. It condensed into the figure of a tall, and rather elegant, Altmer. She had reddish-brown hair and green eyes, and a curvaceous figure that was well complemented by the purple velvet dress she wore. Clark could easily understand how this woman became a King's mistress.

"And all without Illusion," Medora said, obviously still reading his mind. "Thank you for those kind thoughts."

Now that they were all in the same physical location, they could converse in an easier, more conventional, manner. Clark was aware that more was passing between them than just the spoken words conveyed. That wasn't really anything new, he realised. Taminwe and he had been doing it unconsciously for a long time.

Medora had been nudged out of her reclusion in the Direnni Tower by contact from someone in the Summerset Isle. He'd warned her that some group of wizards calling itself the Thalmor had plans for the eventual destruction of all the Towers. It seemed that it was part of their plan to un-make the world, and return to a time of perfection, or some such clap-trap. He clearly didn't hold the same objectives himself.

She found out from him about the loss of the Crystal Tower. Although that had been the work of the invading Daedra, with the power of Mehrunes Dagon behind them, it was proof that the Towers weren't indestructible. Whether the Towers really did maintain the existence of Mundus wasn't clear, but if the Thalmor thought so, then they were a genuine threat.

"Are you still in contact with him?" Clark asked. "I've met a wizard from Sunhold who told me his own crazy story about the Thalmor. There are similarities here that add credence to an otherwise incredible rant."

"No, there's a lot of unrest in the Summerset Isle, and I gather that my respondent has become a victim of the violence. It's a pity, because I have little contact with my fellow Altmer these days. Most of that is with the locals in Wayrest, who have little real knowledge of the current situation in the other provinces. When he disappeared, I started seeking other contacts. Although I haven't established any new ones in the Summerset Isle, I have found you, which is promising."

"We're in the Imperial City, which is built around the White Gold Tower," Taminwe mused. "Do you think the Towers might help with the telepathy?"

Medora hadn't considered that. It might account for the difficulty she'd had, with the Crystal Tower no longer able to function in the same way. But the wizard had managed to contact her, so that couldn't be the whole story.

"I'm sure that was as much because of my state of mind at the time. I'd got over my loss of Lysandus, but I hadn't been ready to go back out into the world before that. I hadn't felt lonely in the Tower, because it was home to me, and I'd been burying myself in research. But that was beginning to wear off. I could tell from my dreams that some of the old desires were re-surfacing. That's probably why it was a male wizard, too."

"Now you've got me confused," Clark interrupted. "How did you link up with Taminwe?"

"Because she was feeling just the way I wanted to. And her mind was open, thinking about nothing else. Your presence helped both ways, as a male telepath, and as a contributor to her receptiveness."

Taminwe chuckled at that wonderful understatement. He'd just contributed, all right!

------------------

Link to the quest walk-through

Black Queen’s Gambit: How fun to see Amusei. I like that he has developed a variety of skills.

Medora: What a great start! Medora is an interesting character already. I love the discussion of her history tied in with current events and the Towers.

Nulfaga was a Breton, and she'd been able to do it, so maybe it was a Breton thing in his case, too.

Hmm, because Bretons get +10 in Conjuration? The telepathy and teleport spells were my favorite parts.

Sounds like Clark might get some additional duties as Contributor To Her Receptiveness.

Gosh, an elf who chatters nonstop and has voices in her head surely sounds familiar! Perhaps she needs a potion of quiet passion?

The use of telepathy and mark & recall magic was great fun to read.

Clark's "contributing," ROFL !!! I love the sound of this new questline, I'm dying to know if Clark will hunt down the missing Imperial agent or the mysterious Wizard, and if they do will it lead them into (the Skyrim game or the Summerset Isle?) I love the border crossing and Lore (you always manage to touch on the different Provinces and your questlines are rife with Lore) - this chapter is a great example! For example, I didn't realize Dagon took out the Crystal Tower - I need to move Rumpleteasza out of it in my story, I guess, lol.

This chapter is among my favorites, it is full of mysteries and promise of questing and Medora shaking off years of abstinance with Clark, lol. The White Gold Tower may be blown into the sky, maybe it really wasn't the Thalmer that destroyed it, it could have been Medora getting "back on the horse," ROFL!

A couple episodes back Morgiah was talking about the King of Worms being inside her when she mated, now Medora is inside Clark's and Taminwe's while they are mating - I wonder how long she has been picking up on Clark's thoughts? Being from the Illiac Bay region, she may have picked up on his time with Morgiah and Rinnala, lol. Totally Awesome Write, I am excited already about this new questline!

@Grits: "Her Receptiveness the High Harlot of the Red Dragon" - Taminwe likes her new title.

@Acadian: Taminwe can be quiet when she wants to, but she just doesn't need to with Clark in a private room.

@mALX: Yes, the Daedra took down the Crystal Tower. It's in the book Rising Threat in Skyrim (the one that Lathenil of Sunhold wrote. I borrowed him for a quest in the mod.)
Medora arrived in Taminwe's head a bit too late to participate.

------------

Previously: Medora Direnni has teleported herself to the Red Dragon Club, with news of a Thalmor plot to destroy the Towers that sustain Mundus.

Medora - part II

"Apart from a bit of company, what brings you from your tower now?" Taminwe asked.

"That warning from the telepathic wizard about the Thalmor. I don't think they could do anything to the Adamantine Tower. It's not just a building; there's a core of pure Adamantium that can't be natural, and Direnni tower was built around it. It's said to be older than Nirn itself. But that might not stop them trying anyway. I need to be prepared, and my best defenses, apart from my undead armies, are my magical skills."

Medora continued. "I've heard of some major advances in alchemy by a Dunmer somewhere in Cyrodiil. I don't know her name, but she's apparently making all sorts of new potions from Hist Sap. I'd like to track her down and see if I can share her results."

Clark knew about those potions. He'd been among the first to try some of them. "I think I know who you mean, and where to find her. Her name is Miranu Hlaalu, and she has a laboratory in an old fort near Lake Rumare."

"Have you met her?" Medora asked, "Because if you have, we could try and contact her together."

"Why don't you and Medora make use of some of her potion #9, and see if that helps?" Tanimwe asked, with an innocent look that didn't fool Clark at all.

Medora looked at Taminwe with a rather puzzled expression, but that quickly changed as she read what Taminwe was thinking. Her mind was a jumble of emotions as she started to understand what Taminwe had just suggested, and Clark was getting some of it, even though she wasn't trying to send.

Medora declined the offer (reluctantly, Clark thought) and declared that she was confident they'd be able to contact Miranu anyway. "I will hold your hand, though, and yours, Taminwe. That should be all the contact we need for this."

Miranu was definitely not telepathic, and they were only able to leave her with a vague feeling that somebody wanted to visit. She'd probably dismiss it as a dream, anyway. Clark repeated Taminwe's offer, but Medora still didn't think it would be benficial. "It's Miranu that needs the help, not me."

"Well, we'll just have to travel over there and knock on the door," Clark said. "It's not far, although we do have to go around the lake to get there."

"Can you go first, and ask her if it's all right? She knows you, but she might react badly to a stranger. Once you're there, I can just teleport myself to you if she's agreeable."

Clark thought that was a bit of a strange request, but Medora certainly wasn't dressed for overland travel. He was sure he could borrow a cloak to fit her, but whatever, he could do as she asked.

---

Miranu was quite pleased to see him again, and Boo greeted him as an old friend. He was grateful for the books that Clark had sent them, as he was eager to learn. Miranu wasn't too keen on him going into the City to buy or borrow books; she preferred him to stay home with her.

Clark was slightly concerned that Miranu wouldn't welcome another woman into her laboratory, but the prospect of an alchemist of her own stature to talk to tipped the scales the right way. She'd be glad to work with one of the Direnni clan. They wrote the history of alchemy, after all.

He heard a grateful sigh of relief in his mind when Miranu said that. The swirling column of purple mist appeared again, and Medora emerged. Clark made the introductions, and went back outside to see what Boo had been making at his forge.

When he entered the hall again, the two women were busily opening barrels and hunting for something. "I don't think I have any left," Miranu was saying.

"Any of what?" Clark asked.

"Void essence," Medora told him. "It's a rare ingredient, and I'm not at all sure where it comes from. The merchants that sail into the Illiac Bay would bring it from somewhere overseas, but you certainly couldn't find it locally. I don't even know if it's of plant or animal origin, just its alchemical properties."

"That would be because it's from Sheogorath's realm," Clark responded. "I read about it in a book the Champion brought back from the Shivering Isles. He left his copy at Gweden Farm."

He didn't recall much of what he'd read in it, because Alchemy wasn't really his interest, but he did remember that void essence came from flesh atronachs, and apparently they were fairly hard to kill. The book had mentioned a few alternatives, some of which came from plants.

Miranu tried to explain that those other ingredients would work in some recipes, but not the one that she was trying to use. "Just trust me. I need void essence in particular. Ten samples of it. But if you want to bring those others, too, I can put them to good use."

He didn't recall volunteering to fetch anything, but apparently both the women were now expecting him to go to the Shivering Isles and get it for them.

---

His first thought was to ask the sisters to come and help, but when he tried to contact them through the flash signaller at the Red Dragon Club, he got no reply from Arborwatch. He tried Rosethorn Hall next, and Eyja responded that they'd told her they were going to Weatherleah. Apparently they'd become quite fond of the Jemane brothers, and were spending a lot of their time with them.

Tsarrina was at the Club, doing the accounting, and she suggested he ask Nelrene to go with him. "That one knows the Isles, of course, and she's not worried about going back now the Champion's the Madgod. This one can spare her for a few days."

"Oh, and if Miranu's got any new potions that are anything like that #9, you will try to get some for us, won't you?" Clark wasn't sure if all the teeth in Tsarrina's smile were an encouragement or a threat, but he agreed anyway.

---

Nelrene was quite pleased with the idea of taking a break from Gweden. She may have done the same palace guard job for millenia, but escorting Clark would be different. And she had to admit that she put on her uniform every now and then, for nostalgic reasons. It just felt good to wear it, which was probably the will of Sheogorath.

Relmyna Verenim's old ruin at Xaselm would be a good place to find flesh atronachs. It wasn't too far from the Gates out of the Fringe, and if you went in the main door, at the other end from Relmyna's laboratory, you wouldn't disturb her. There were a few other ruins to try, and the Zealots often had flesh atronachs in tow. Of course, they'd summon them, as well, and you wouldn't get any void essence from a summoned creature.

Nelrene didn't seem at all disturbed by the thought of battling the atronachs, so Clark began to feel a bit easier about the trip.

---

"She's immortal, so of course she had nothing to worry about," Clark reminded himself as he hobbled back around the Red Road. He'd spent most of his time in the Isles picking himself up off the ground and guzzling health potions. Although his outfit reflected and absorbed spells, it didn't do much against physical damage, and those atronachs had battered his shield into a shapeless lump of twisted metal. They seemed to know he was weaker than Nelrene, and always picked on him.

But they'd got the void essence. Ten samples exactly, as he had no intention of fighting any more of them than he had to.

He did have the rest of his pack filled with miscellaneous other ingredients. Nelrene had picked him out what she considered a good sampling of items: swamp tentacle, congealed putrescence, water root pod pits, blister pod caps. He'd made a point of re-entering the Fringe through the Mania gate, so he could balance that with a few things from that half: alocasia, red kelp bladder and worm's head. Miranu should be pleased.

He'd left Nelrene in the Isles. She had stayed on a day or two visiting Mania. In all the time she'd spent in the Isles, that side of the map had been somewhere a Mazken just didn't go. But there was a different Madgod now, and the rules had changed. She felt like exploiting that, and seeing a bit more of her world.

Clark upended his pack onto one of the benches, and sorted out the ten samples of void essence from the rest of the ingredients. Medora was excitedly picking up the strange new things he'd brought. She found the swamp tentacle especially interesting, and he caught a few stray thoughts about non-alchemical uses.

That seemed to jog her memory about something she wanted to discuss with him. While Miranu was busy cataloging the new ingredients, and storing them away in barrels, Medora drew him aside and whispered. "Do you know she's sleeping with that Minotaur? I thought he was just a pet when I first arrived, but it's a lot more than that!"

Clark was shocked. Not about Miranu and Boo, of course, but that Medora would react that way. "What's the problem? You wouldn't think twice if he were a Khajiit or an Argonian."

"No, but they're intelligent races, like us. It's not right to do it with an animal."

"Have you talked to Boo? He's a lot more intelligent than most people I know!"

"Well, no," Medora admitted. "He goes outside almost as soon as he wakes each day, and when he comes back in in the evening, he spends all his time with Miranu in the cave. I didn't even know he could talk, until you told me."

"And you haven't been out to his forge to watch him there? If you saw his smithing skills, you'd have no doubt of his intelligence."

"I don't go outside. I can't. The curse Nulfaga put on me makes me panic when I'm outside. That's how she kept me shut up in Direnni Tower all those years."

Now it made sense why Medora teleported everywhere. Clark had been told that Nulfaga had lifted the curse when Lysandus' ghost had been finally laid to rest, but Medora didn't seem to believe that. She still felt the same way when she looked out of an open door, and stepping over the threshhold would have been unthinkable.

She wasn't deliberately telling him that, but the fear flooded out of her mind in a torrent she couldn't control. He wasn't a strong telepath, but he didn't need to be.

"I'm hoping that Miranu and I can make a potion to lift the curse," she told him. "Nothing I've been able to produce has made any difference. Whatever spell I cast, or potion I drink, I feel the same after as I did before."

Clark left the two alchemists grinding ingredients and stirring mixtures, and returned on foot to the city. He didn't think there was any curse on Medora that wasn't of her own making, but he'd need help figuring out what to do.

Maybe Miranu could help her make a potion that was powerful enough to overcome her phobia, but he thought it unlikely. Medora was enough of a sorceress to counteract the effects of any potion that interfered with her view of what was "normal'. And her fear of the outdoors had become that.

Nothing is quite like trying to change a woman's mind.


--------

Link to the quest walk-through

Off to the Shivering Isles for Clark and his Mazken escort – good choice! The Isles are a treasure trove for alchemists and it was good of Clark to bring back a nice selection of various samples.

Nice to see and hear from some familiar faces from earlier parts of your story. Ah, makes sense why the lady teleports everywhere – nicely done!

’Nothing is quite like trying to change a woman's mind.’ - - Counterproductive, for sure. No worries though as they have an uncanny ability to change it at an alarming rate with no assistance.

He didn't recall volunteering to fetch anything, but apparently both the women were now expecting him to go to the Shivering Isles and get it for them.

Woo hoo, an adventure in the Isles!

"She's immortal, so of course she had nothing to worry about," Clark reminded himself as he hobbled back around the Red Road. He'd spent most of his time in the Isles picking himself up off the ground and guzzling health potions.

That’s been my experience there, too. I haven't had a character who lived long enough to realize the non-alchemical potential of swamp tentacle.

WOO HOO !!! The return of Miranu Hlaalu to the story, isn't that Falanu's sister that does the experimenting with animals? I Loved her story!

I like the little catch up of where all the characters are, and seeing Eyja in your story!

Clark seems out of his element with these two, like they are using mind control on him!



SPEW !!!

Clark's last statement had me laughing, he figures out a lot, just hope Medora wasn't reading his mind then, lol. Awesome write, I am loving this questline!


** On another note, I am very excited over the Player being able to paint on the poster! That is AWESOME! Really sorry I got tied up with fixing that water and didn't want to add anything new till I had that down and working, if you tell me how to add it in I will; or if the ESP works with the Wobbly one and you want to let everyone just DL it - I'm def getting it for my game either way, lol.

@Acadian: Changing a woman's mind is easy - just wait a few minutes. It's changing it in the right direction that's the tricky part.

@Grits: In the Rumple Mod SI expansion, the player fetches the "Tentacle of Intrusion" from a ruin for Relmyna. In return the player gets the replacement heart for rebuilding Syl. Relmyna says when you give it to her "Did you feel how it pulses and wriggles? Obscene, isn't it?" Then she tells you it's weak, and needs to feed. So she gives it to Nanette Don. Both women will tell you about the progress of that little experiment if you talk to them after.

@mALX: Yes, Clark has to be careful about Medora reading his mind, but for the next part he just has to act on his natural inclinations.

**aside** - everyone can download the poster and use it now, but merging it in saves a plugin slot.

------------------

Previously: Clark has taken Medora Direnni to visit Miranu, and the two Alchemists are trying to make a potion to cure Medora's fear of going outdoors. Since you can't make a Calm potion, it's not going to work.

Medora - part III

"If she's not being rational, then we'll just have to fight fire with fire," Uzgash reasoned. "And I don't know anything better than religion. The witches that brought up my mother had one that involved a lot of naked rituals, and weird ceremonies. It was all just an excuse for a communal feel-good session, but the way they did it made it exclusively their own. That reinforced the idea that they were special, and privy to secrets that others didn't have. The drugs they took made it easier for the participants to believe it all."

"All in all, they were a fairly harmless bunch of eccentrics. The good part was that their alchemical skills and magic were sharpened by their ritual practice into something that was actually useful. Not to mention all that dancing keeping them in shape. Mother learned a lot of good stuff from those witches, and I got it all passed down through a filter of cold reason. She could understand what they were doing better than they did, or at least most of them. I'm sure the priestesses had a clue, too; that's why they were in charge."

"But Medora's not a witch," Clark pointed out. "And she's intelligent enough, with this one exception. How do we convert her to witchcraft?"

"We only need to convince her that it's the basis of Nulfaga's curse," Taminwe told him. "That's what Uzgash meant about fighting fire with fire. If we can get Medora believing in witchcraft as the source of her problem, then she'll believe it's the cure as well."

"Was Nulfaga a witch?" Clark asked the obvious question.

"Medora seems to think of her that way," Taminwe replied. "I'm not sure if she actually believes that she was, or she's just using it as a mental dismissal of her adversary's magical ability. We also have to assume that Nulfaga knew something of Medora's mind. After all, they were both telepathic. She could have planted the idea that it was witchcraft, along with the fear, knowing it would make it harder for Medora to do anything. In any case, we can cast her in that light and Medora will accept it. The fact that she seems to count witches' skills as inferior will help our cause."

"So where do we get a witch?" he asked.

"Medora doesn't know me, so I'm going to be your beldam, or witch high priestess," answered Uzgash. "My mother's stories have given me a good idea of what I need to do, and Medora's likely to think of Orcs as witch material, coming from High Rock as she does. And you know I don't mind dancing around naked."

Clark was quite aware of Uzgash's lack of inhibition. As were most of the folk in Falkreath, and quite a few in Bruma, especially if they'd been to Olav's.

---

"Why do I have to be naked?" Medora asked again.

"Because it's an act of defiance," Uzgash explained. "You're telling everyone that you're equal to anything they can bring against you, without any weapons, without any armor, without anything but yourself. Don't think of it as a show of vulnerability, but of strength!"

Clark looked at Uzgash's naked body, and it wasn't hard to see the strength there. Medora was a bit softer, with smooth, gentle curves that were just as good to look at, only different. She didn't look weaker, so much as a more tempting target.

Uzgash grinned. "The other reason for being naked, of course, is the paint."

She handed Clark a pot of paint. Uzgash and Medora had ground up the plant material and minerals to make these. She'd explained to the sorceress the symbolism of each pigment, making it all up as she went along. Red was for fire, of course, and blue for frost, white for shock. The other colors were associated with health, and strength, and endurance, and... Clark had lost track of it all, but Medora had, too, which was just what Uzgash intended.

"I'm not sure of the exact meaning of each of these symbols," Uzgash was saying, "but they're the ones they used in all the ceremonies. They're intended to attract all the spirits that are needed to collectively raise the available magicka to the right level. The placement of them is equally important, so please hold still while we work."

Medora was finding it quite difficult to remain motionless for them. The soft hair of the brushes tickled her skin in a most arousing way, especially as they were painting there, and even there. Significant locations for the most significant symbols, as Uzgash explained it.

Clark and Uzgash wouldn't be wearing any paint, of course. It was Medora that the ceremony was all about, so she was the one that was decorated. All the magicka would flow to her, and she'd be able to lift Nulfaga's curse using the same witchcraft that had placed it.

"I think she's ready," Uzgash said. "Close your eyes, Medora, while I open the door and check if the moons are at their proper aspect."

Medora was glad that she didn't have to look outside yet. They'd decided that the tall, narrow alley leading to the Club was a good compromise between indoors and out. She'd have walls all round her, so It would seem less threatening, but it was still open to the sky. That was the fear she needed to overcome.

"Yes, it's nice and dark, and I can see both moons." Uzgash's voice sounded different, and Medora realised that it was because it was coming from outside the open door. She kept her eyes tightly closed as Clark guided her out into the alley to join her.

"Point her towards the moons" Uzgash instructed Clark. "Now Medora, raise your right fist, and shake it at the moons."

She had to open her eyes a little, to see where they were. She tried to make it as brief a glimpse as possible, but her knees buckled as she did that. Medora felt Clark's arms around her, holding her steady. She narrowed her eyes to look at the moons, and nothing else. The feeling of panic was still there, but she could handle it, maybe.

"Good, now hold that pose while we wash off the paint. The curse will have been absorbed into the symbols, and it will leave you with them. And it doesn't matter if you close your eyes again now."

Medora relaxed a little. She knew she was outside, and naked, but she felt safer with these people, who seemed to know what they were doing. And washing the paint off was quite a pleasant feeling. Well, more than just pleasant. After all, they'd painted some intimate places and Clark's hands were so gentle.

They reminded her of Lysandus, and of happier times at the palace in Daggerfall. She hadn't been living under Nulfaga's curse then, and she'd been able to stroll the palace garden with her King. And because it was a private place, away from Mynisera, it was where they often...

Medora opened her eyes and looked at the moons, lost in the memories of those earlier years. Clark could feel her trembling, but it didn't seem to be fear any more. Uzgash whispered in his ear. "I'll go inside now, and leave you to finish things. I'll leave the door open, in case she feels shut out with it closed."

---

"That ceremony thing was all a load of hooey, wasn't it?" Medora accused.

"Hey! It worked, didn't it?" Taminwe retorted.

"Well yes, but was it all necessary? I feel totally stupid now, and I must have looked ridiculous in all that gaudy warpaint."

"That's why we washed it off again," Clark quite reasonably countered. "I'm sure you'd agree that part was needed."

Medora glared at him, but it was hard for her to feel any ill will. "The part I really needed came after that, and I'd rather it had been on soft sheets, than up against a wall in an alley."

"You did seem to need it urgently. And you got your soft sheets when we came back inside." Clark had been kept rather busy, as Medora had been saving up her passion for some time.

Taminwe wanted to know why Medora had gone back outside afterwards to gesture at the moons again. "If you'd told me you were still going to be naked, I'd have kept the customers in the bar. Now they're asking if if it will be a regular show!"

"Well, the first time, it was all Uzgash's idea. She was right, being naked does feel empowering. I had to do it on my own, to tell myself that I was in control now, and I could beat that fear alone, if it ever came back. "

"If it does, we'll sell tickets for your next performance," Taminwe laughed.

-------------

Note: This is where the narrative differs from the mod. In the game you go to Bravil and get a new spell from Kud-Ei that combines Calm and Shield to make Medora feel safe. You cast it on her in Miranu's lab and lead her out of the door. If you get out before the spell expires, she's cured. If it's too late, she runs back inside, and you have to try again. Boring in comparison, but within the capabilities of the game!

Bwaahaa!

Either the way you have written it or the in game version sounds fun, Bravo on another Awesome addition to your mods! Loved this chapter and questline!

Also on that poster, I am so excited the Player can actually paint or deface it! What an Awesome idea! I downloaded it, will def be trying it out!

"That's what Uzgash meant about fighting fire with fire. If we can get Medora believing in witchcraft as the source of her problem, then she'll believe it's the cure as well." - - I like this logic!

And witchcraft to the rescue! With some naked fingerpainting thrown in for fun!


Nit: "All in all, they were a fairly harmless bunch of excentrics.” - - Eccentrics?

Nice catch, but how did you miss "particpants" right next to it?

I missed them both, what does that say? Lol.

"That ceremony thing was all a load of hooey, wasn't it?" Medora accused.

Good thing Clark made it hard for her to stay angry. The naked ritual sounds fun, but so does Kud-Ei’s spell version.

@mALX: Because of the SI ingredient, this is part of the mod you won't get to play. So make the most of the poster instead.

@Acadian: You can't argue with logic that gets the right answer.

@Grits: Good thing Clark made it hard for her - I don't know what you mean!

-------

I put the telegraphic conversation in this episode in italics, for lack of a better way to indicate that it's different. Any other ideas?

---------------

New Sheoth Brothel

A letter arrived for Clark, bearing the seal of the Count of Kvatch. Nelrene had returned from her vacation in the Shivering Isles and he'd talked with her during his last visit to Gweden. She'd told him of a brothel that had opened in New Sheoth, but something wasn't right about it. Nelrene couldn't explain what it was, so could Clark investigate, please?

Clark was a bit reluctant to do that. His one and only visit to the Isles had seen him beaten on by Flesh Atronachs, and he didn't relish a repeat of that. He'd also had Nelrene with him, and she wouldn't be available this time.

"The Count's the Madgod, isn't he?" Taminwe reminded him. "Ask him if he couldn't arrange an escort for you. The Saints and Seducers are his to command."

An exchange over the flash telegraph soon reached a reasonable compromise. The Count/Madgod would teach him the spells to summon Saints and Seducers, so he'd have a protector when he needed one.

"They won't be quite the companion that Nelrene was, but Syl will make up for that, if you give her a good spanking."

Clark would also be given a map of the Isles, where the safe roads were marked. He'd be passing Zealot or Heretic camps where he might find some trouble, but that's what the spells were for.

"What about the Gatekeeper?" Clark inquired. "Last time, Nelrene took me past, and he ignored me. Won't he stop me if I'm alone?"

"Yes, you might have to summon an escort to leave the fringe. But if he's seen you enter before, you'll probably have no problem. Relmyna and Nanette pass through the gates regularly; he's not stopping everyone."

Clark was running out of excuses. He agreed to meet the Champion in Kvatch later in the week, so he could learn those spells.

---

Gaius Prentus rowed him out to the Island where the Strange Door stood. He was amazed to see him making a second trip.

"I hadn't seen anyone come back out of that door sane before the Champion did it. You're only the second one, and you weren't in there very long. Do you think you can keep your sanity going back another time?"

"The Champion's the Madgod now, which means he runs the place. It's slowly becoming a bit more normal now he's in charge," Clark replied. "And he seems to think it won't hurt me, so I hope he's right. Besides, he suspects that most of the ones who went in were crazy before they did that. Sheogorath has a Shrine just north of Leyawiin where most of them go before they make the trip. Nelrene told me that everyone there was nuts, too," he continued.

"Nelrene? Was she the big dark woman with the purple hair and that gorgeous pair of ... She was the one that was with you when you visited last, right? Of course, she wasn't walking around topless that time, like she was when the Champion brought her back with him."

"If you looked at her face instead, you might know her again," Clark laughed. "But didn't you get to see her when she returned?"

"Must have been someone else on duty then, lucky fetcher."

---

Clark made it to New Sheoth without having to use a summon spell once. He'd chosen the route through Mania, as he'd seen more of the Dementia side in his last visit, and the countryside looked so bright and cheerful on a sunny day. A Golden Saint patrol had dealt with the Grummites that were waiting in ambush half-way. They'd overtaken him, and engaged the creatures, before he even knew they were there. He'd tried to thank them, but they did little more than acknowledge his presence before continuing their patrol, at a pace he couldn't match without tiring.

Another Aureal was standing guard at the Gates of New Sheoth. He inquired about the brothel, but was brusquely advised to ask one of the citizens of Bliss instead. Why would an Aureal know about places like that?

Amiable Fanriene knew about it, but "I've never been there myself. It's indoors, you know. With walls that might fall down. I can't risk that. And worse, it's underground. I might be buried alive!"

He was able to give Clark directions, however. The entrance was around the corner, just outside the city walls. Clark decided to ask a few other citizens about it before trusting directions from someone who was obviously a bit odd.

The bookshop was a likely place to get good advice. Reading books was always good for your education, and booksellers often knew more than anyone else in a town. This one was a bit more than he expected, however.

"Hmmm... how do you do? I'd say, very well from the look of things. I'm Sontaire, spend one night with me and I'll remind you why they say love hurts."

It didn't seem right to ask about the brothel after that greeting, and he wasn't inclined to accept the offer, either. He browsed the few books she had on the shelves, and found one about the Saints and Seducers that looked like it might be useful. He paid, and ducked back out of the store.

The beggar he bumped into as he left, Fimmion, asked for a sweetroll, rather than gold, and Clark was happy to provide one. Then he had to refuse the pants that Fimmion wanted to give him in return. "Put them back on. I already have some."

Fimmion thought he was very strange, not wanting anything in exchange for the sweetroll. So Clark asked for directions, instead. Fimmion repeated Amiable's directions to the brothel.

He went through the passage into Crucible, intending to ask there, but the first person he met, Bolwing, was totally incomprehensible. He gave up that idea, and went back through Bliss. He'd just have to hope the directions he'd already been given were right.

The entrance to the brothel was a manhole just a few yards from where the Aureal was guarding the city gate. The same one who knew nothing about it, when he'd asked her. She watched him open it, and descend the ladder.

---

The ladder took him to a corridor, where two signs pointed in opposite directions. One directed him to "Dyssa's Den of Debauchery" and the other pointed to "Pasha's Palace of Perversion". It appeared that, like most of the Shivering Isles, there was a Dementia side and a Mania side to the brothel.

Pasha was a Khajiit. A remarkably normal one, except for being completely nude. And that wasn't too unusual in a brothel. He didn't think Prizna was too strange for never wearing clothes, and Pasha was at least wearing all her fur. But perhaps she was too normal. She'd be happy to have sex with him, in a couple of weeks' time, when she thought she'd be ready for it. "The moons aren't the same here, so I'm not exactly certain when it will be. Must be soon though, I'm sure."

Clark remembered what Shulassa had told him about her grandmother. Her grandfather had needed a leather cuirass to prevent her clawing his back to ribbons. Something told him Pasha would need the same kind of precautions, if she was ever in the right mood.

Equally naked was a large golden woman, with bulging biceps and cropped hair. Her chest was large, but it was all muscle. Arneh the Aureal was prepared to take his money in return for letting him serve her sexual needs, but if she wasn't satisfied with his performance, he might not have all the equipment he arrived with. She gave him a demonstrative squeeze that removed any doubts he might have had.

The only other woman present barely deserved the term. Where Pasha had found a goblin, Clark had no idea. He didn't understand why, either. She looked even more repellant naked than the clothed ones he'd met in Tamriel.

"Let me know about the moons," Clark told Pasha as he left.

----------

I've collected al the pieces of this and strung them together here for anyone who wants to read the story without any commentary. It will also allow me to embed illustrative screenshots that might not be acceptable here, although there's none at present.

There's a link to the Bear Riders series on the index page, too, and there will be more links added between episodes as I work on it further.

*

Italics works perfectly for me.

I saw plenty to quote before this, but this one just HAS to be quoted:



SPEW! This whole conversation with Gaius had me rolling, but this line in particular nearly cost me a monitor!



SPEW! Your hurting me here, ROFL !!! I'm nearly choking myself to keep from waking the house, ROFL !!

Poor Clark, and he is turning down a lay! *mALX goes into shock*



*mALX choked to death in front of her PC*

This chapter is definitely going up among my top favorites, LOVED it !!! Awesome Write !!!

** I love your site, the set-up and pages are gorgeous! What a great idea to consolidate them that way!


*

@mALX: Since you don't have SI, you wouldn't know that Sontaire's line is directly quoted from that. And Fimmion does provide the player the pants he's wearing in exchange for a sweetroll, in the quest "The Gathering Storm". So I can't claim responsibility for those two. I'll just have to be contented with the other two, and those are both Nelrene's.

I didn't know that, lol. It still goes into my top favorites due to Clark - he was a mite out of sorts on this trip, not his usual diplomatic self - I loved it!

The Shivering brothel! How clever to craft it with both Manic and Demented sides. Hmm, seems like a management problem so far. Something Clark should be able to recommend some improvements for. Having a goblin lass on the staff is certainly a creative twist! Looking forward to seeing the Demented side. Perhaps it will be faring better; after all Mazken probably suit the role better than their Golden counterparts.

@mALX: Sontaire's an interesting elf. She has shackles hanging from the wall by her bed. I think the Mazken in this episode may have learned from her.

@Acadian: The Mazken may not be Arneh, but they'll have their issues.

--------------

Previously Clark has gone to the Shivering Isles to investigate a brothel in New Sheoth. So far, he's found the Mania side to be somewhat disfunctional.

----------

New Sheoth Brothel - Demented

Along the corridor were side-passages that led to bedrooms. All were unoccupied, and the corridor was silent. At the other end were the roots of a large tree, and a door membrane that led to Dyssa's.

A dark tunnel led down to a muddy pit, where a number of Mazken were wandering around chatting to each other, and looking bored. They were wearing only helmets and boots, and Clark was pleased to note that their bodies were normally proportioned, unlike the Aureal he'd just left at the other end of the place.

They ignored him, and when he tried to start a conversation, pointed him to Dyssa, who was standing up on a dias at the other side of the pit, at the foot of a comfortable-looking bed. Dyssa was a Bosmer, but not the usual slender thing he was used to. She had breasts that were almost the equal of Silanu's.

They were just as unnatural, too. During their childhood, her sister, Syl, had spent all her allowance on weapon training, but Dyssa had had a mage cast an alteration spell on her breasts. She wanted to be loved, not feared, and she was sure that everyone liked big breasts. Everyone who mattered, anyway.

"Aren't they a bit heavy?" he asked, remembering what Silanu had told him about the feather effect cast on hers.

"Very," Dyssa agreed. "I need to lie down a lot, but that's a good thing, isn't it?"

"Would you like to lie down now?"

"Yes, please, and I hope you'll join me."

Dyssa lay on the bed and the Mazken all turned and ran to the platform. Clark was forcibly prevented from getting any closer to Dyssa. "Syl doesn't allow that," he was told.

Clark turned to Dyssa, who nodded. "Syl never wanted her little sister harmed in any way. And she was always convinced that men didn't have any good intentions where I was concerned. So she instructed the Mazken to stop anything before it started."

"She was the older one, the stronger one, so she could handle men, she said. Not that she trusted them, either. And look where it got her. Dead. Now she's not around to rescind her orders."

"The Mazken will deal with your lusts, and Dyssa can watch," declared the first of the Dark Seducers. Her helmet was a little different from the others', presumably an indication of rank. "When the late Duchess was alive, she would do so herself, but now the duty falls to us."

Clark was always happy to let Nelrene take the lead when she wanted to, but that was because she wanted to. This woman was just acting out of loyalty to a dead Duchess, with no emotional involvement of her own. He wasn't going to enjoy this.

She did seem to be aroused by the situation, and there was no denying her skill in getting the reaction she wanted from him. Yes, she wanted something. She wasn't just following those orders, there was something more happening here. But as Clark relaxed a little, he felt her interest waning. Was it his discomfort that she wanted?

That wasn't going to work. If she could only enjoy this if he didn't, and he responded to her pleasure, things were going to be very strange. He tried to put himself into the mindset of a male Mazken, doing his duty to his female superior. That was what he assumed she was used to.

But he couldn't even manage disinterest properly. He needed to try something else.

Clark raised his arm and cast a summoning spell. A Dark Seducer appeared from a cloud of smoke just a couple of feet away.

"Autkendo, where is the rest of your uniform? And why is my Lord up to his hilt inside you?"

"Your Lord, Kiskengo? You were summoned? But only a Duke can do that! Has the Madgod given us a new Duke of Dementia?"

"I do not know, sister. I do not question the Madgod's will."

The Autkendo's confusion was evident on her face. The rules had just changed completely in the middle of the game. And caught her in an interesting position. The man that was standing here with her leg wrapped around him, might be the new Duke! And he wasn't pulling out; his hands gripped her hips and held her in place. "What should I do, my Lord?" she asked plaintively.

"You appeared to know a moment ago. Ask yourself if anything has changed, other than your own understanding, and continue with the course of action you think appropriate."

"But that is my problem, Lord. Is Syl's order rescinded, or not? It seems you have the authority to do so, but you have not spoken."

"Take a moment or two to think it through for yourself. Meanwhile, I believe you liked it when I did this before."

"What of me, my Lord? You summoned me, but do you require assistance? The Autkendo appears to be providing adequately for your needs."

"And he is more than doing so for mine," the Autkendo smiled. "My Lord, I understand now. Of course Syl's order no longer stands. You would not sustain it against yourself. But I am also permitted to have this pleasure, or you wouldn't be doing everything that I enjoy."

Clark turned his head to the lower-ranking Kiskengo. "I called you only to show the Autkendo that I could," he explained. "So you have already provided all the assistance that I needed by answering the call. Except for one thing ... do you have names, or do I have to keep calling you Autkendo and Kiskengo? It doesn't seem appropriate for contact this personal. I think you should introduce me to my partner."

"The Autkendo is Afri, and I am Nila," she replied. "Since you asked for mine, does that mean you want me to stay? And should I take off my uniform too?"

"Again, think that through for yourself. Where will you return to when the spell expires? Will your colleagues be expecting you back without your uniform? Do you have enough time for what you hope will happen next?"

"Enough time to be very annoyed when there isn't enough." Nila understood. "But now you know my name, you can ask for me at Pinnacle Rock. If I'm not summoned, I don't have to go back until you send me."

"In the time you do have left, can you tell Dyssa that I've not forgotten her. I just have to finish my current business with Afri first."

---

Afri seemed happy to please him now, a distinct change from their earlier situation. Was that just a switch of allegiance, or was there more?

"Syl had told us that the objective was to drain the men, and leave them with no desire to do anything further with Dyssa. She clearly had no sympathy for them, and although she took pleasure from the activity, it was of no concern to her how the men felt. Since her death, we have faithfully acted the same way."

"So with the other men that came here, did you enjoy the sex because Syl told you to do so, or was it good for you anyway?"

"It wasn't always good, and most of the time I didn't like doing it. But I got whatever pleasure I could. Syl would not have cared. She was not like you, my Lord."

Clark knew that Afri could do this much longer than he could, Nelrene had taught him that much. And he had Dyssa to deal with. At an appropriate moment he disengaged himself, and turned back to the dias.

---

Apparently the other Mazken had now decided that Dyssa should be "prepared" for his attentions. They'd taken off her robe, and folded it carefully on a pedestal near the bed. One Dark Seducer knelt at each side of her, and coaxed her nipples to attention, while the third was busy between her legs. As he approached, the Mazken all stood up.

"Why did you stop?" Dyssa asked. "Oh! the Autkendo must have finished with him. Did he leave already?"

"No, I'm still here," Clark replied, seating himself on the bed beside her. "Do they always do that for you?"

"They never have before, or I wouldn't have minded them taking the men away. Why is it different this time?"

"Because none of the others were of high enough rank," the nearest Seducer responded. "Syl's orders stood until they could be overturned by someone with sufficient authority." She turned to him. "My Lord, how should we address you? Are you the new Duke of Dementia, as the Autkendo surmised?"

"No, I am the Earl of Gweden, in Tamriel. But I act on the authority of the Madgod. He is currently busy outside the Isles, and sent me here on his behalf to set this matter right. The new Duke or Duchess will be selected when the right candidate appears, and it is his will to appoint one."

"Of course, your Grace." The Mazken had obviously decided that "Madgod's Emissary" was equivalent to Duke, even if he hadn't put it that way.

The Mazken filed down the steps, leaving him to continue where they'd left off.

---

"I wish my breasts weren't so big," Dyssa complained. "They got in the way in some of those positions, and the weight makes my back ache. I know they were my idea in the first place, but a woman can change her mind, can't she?"

"Which is it you want changed, your mind or your breasts?"

"Both, I guess. The mind I have seems to make bad choices."

"Making good decisions comes from experience. And experience comes from making bad decisions." It was trite, but it was true.

"Syl's bad decisions just got her killed. Sheogorath decided it was time to replace her, so the man who is now the Madgod took her place. And since the Ritual of Succession requires the departing Duchess to die, she did."

"But the people in town were talking about Syl as if she was still alive." Clark was confused.

"That's not my sister. Well, the body's hers, but the heart's not, and she's got a different personality since they rebuilt her."

Clark was still confused, but he did understand that the current Syl was some kind of replacement, and she wasn't the Duchess. "What did the Madgod mean, when he said that I should give her a good spanking?"

"Oh, does she like that, too?" Her sister had enjoyed the attention to her bare buttocks when she was young, but she'd grown out of it quickly. Dyssa had inherited the men that liked to do that, and Syl hadn't interfered with her fun until they'd switched their attention to her growing bosom. So she had a few fond memories of being spanked.

"From what I hear, the new Syl's getting over that obsession, though. She still likes it, but she's found other things to like as well. The Mazken tell me that the new Madgod's ideas are a bit different from the old one's. He's encouraged her to act a bit more normally, something his predecessor would never have done!"

"That reminds me," Clark interrupted. "We still have to decide what to do with your 'bodyguards'. They need new duties, now they don't have keep the men away from you. But first I want to know how you came to this place. What's a woman who's got four Mazken stopping her from getting any sex doing in a brothel?"

"That's five Mazken, actually, There's another one down at the pool. My idea was that if enough men visited, then they'd all be too busy, and I'd get my chance. But when it got close to working, the Autkendo just called for reinforcements. There were only two of them with me when I arrived, the others have joined since."

"And the reinforcements just stayed?"

"I gather they like this assignment. And all the other women who were here before me left, because the Mazken were getting all the action, and not taking any gold for it."

"I don't see any men either."

"They don't come here as much as they did before. The Mazken are meticulous in carrying out orders, and Syl's didn't include the men having any fun. They should probably have paid the men for their efforts! But I hope they'll come back, now things have changed."

"Hmmm.... Autkendo Afri! I need you."

"I live to serve, your Grace."

"I believe what the Madgod would like to see happen here is the re-establishment of a proper brothel. You will take direction from your madam, Dyssa, and she will instruct you in your new duties. She will entertain such clients as she wishes, and the others will be your responsibility. Primarily, that will be to leave the men satisfied, and eager to return. Your own pleasure will be secondary, but is encouraged."

"This is the Shivering Isles," Dyssa reminded him. "Some of the men who came here before had strange tastes."

"My sisters and I are immortal, and have seen everything," Afri replied. "And there is little that at least one of us doesn't enjoy."

"Then it will important for you to know what Dyssa does and does not like doing. She won't want you 'rescuing' her when she's screaming with pleasure, but she'll need you to intervene before anyone actually hurts her, physically or emotionally."

"I understand, your Grace."

"And did someone mention a pool? Is that the kind that one can lay back in and relax? This has been a tiring day for me."

"Yes, your Grace, if you'll just follow me, I'll show you."

-------------

The events in this tale deviate a bit from the way it plays out in the mod as seen here - mainly because the Mazken aren't actually as accommodating in the game. But then, the player character can be female, so it's just as well.

This line had me rolling, but then I saw Clark’s observation in the next line:



SPEW! ROFL! You got my monitor good on that one! I am really loving Clark’s trip to the SI !!!

Poor Clark, nothing in the Isles is going to be easy for him!



ROFL!!! I can see why, lol.

Clark solves the brothel problems for Shivering Isles, I love it! Awesome Write!

Clark displays quite the creativity here in getting the Mazken to largely sort out their own problems – with just slight prompting from him. Nicely done.

"Making good decisions comes from experience. And experience comes from making bad decisions." It was trite, but it was true.’ - - I love this saying! Dear Kud-Ei has similarly told Buffy on several occasions, ‘Good judgment comes from experience. And experience comes from bad judgment.’

So, the Gweden Empire has now officially expanded to the Shivering Isles!

@mALX: The heaviness will take some working out. Clark is going to need help with those problems, as we'll see.

@Acadian: Clark may have been a bit too successful with the Mazken, and he still has Dyssa's other two problems to sort out.

------------

Previously at the New Sheoth Brothel: The Mania side has a Khajiit who doesn't know when she'll be receptive, an Aureal who threatens violence if she's not satisfied, and a goblin. The Dementia side has an artificially-enhanced Bosmer who's not allowed to get any action, with a cadre of Mazken who'll rape anyone who tries.

-----------------

New Sheoth Brothel - Further Dementia

The pool was a couple of feet deep, and large enough for three or four people. A small waterfall fed it with water that was just cool enough to be refreshing. Dyssa stepped in and walked across to where the depth was just right for her. When she sat on the bottom, and leaned back against the edge, her breasts floated comfortably. The Mazken pool attendant knelt behind her, and began to massage her neck and shoulders. Dyssa closed her eyes and sighed contentedly.

"Would you like me to do the same for you, your Grace?" asked Afri.

Not having Dyssa's buoyancy needs, Clark just sat on the edge of the pool and dangled his legs in the water. Afri knelt behind him and went to work.

Her practised fingers quickly eased the fatigue from his back muscles. Soon Clark found his head nestling between the two soft pillows of Afri's chest, and her hands were busy on his. A little later, his head was in her lap, and she was massaging his stomach. Then she eased his head down to the ground between her thighs and reached forward for her prize, while presenting him his own.

"Gods, Afri! You're insatiable!"

Afri lifted her head a moment to reply. "Of course, your Grace, all Mazken are. And we are tireless in our devotion." She giggled as she resumed her ministrations.

She tried to delay receiving her reward as long as she could, using all the tricks she knew. It was clear to her that Clark would not be able to do this more than once before he needed some serious rest.

Eventually, it was over, and she rolled off him, contented.

"Shall I carry you up to the bed, or will you sleep here, your Grace?" she asked. Clark looked across the pool and couldn't see Dyssa there. He assumed that the bed would be occupied.

"Then I shall make you comfortable here," she told him. That meant that she would be his pillow and she'd be there ready for more when he woke in a few hours.

But Clark wasn't ready to sleep right away. He needed to talk to her first.

"The Seducers in other realms use their charms to lure their victims to their deaths," he said. "Why do you think Sheogorath's Dark Seducers are different? He despises 'order' but he employs you to guard the realm and keep the peace. What makes you the perfect creatures for that?"

"It is the Madgod's will. It is not for us to question."

"Then let me explain what I understand, and you can examine how it fits the facts you know. The Madgod's power comes from the madness of his people, and madness comes from trying to reconcile the incompatible. Sheogorath's realm runs by Sheogorath's rules, and they must be obeyed; but they are also inconsistent, and thus cannot be followed without breaking them."

"That makes some kind of sense, but how do the Mazken fit in?"

"You are intended to both tempt the people to transgression, and to deny the fulfillment of that temptation. The Aureals, too, in a slightly different way. You are at the same time desirable, and forbidden."

"But you said I was no longer forbidden," Afri protested.

"Quite, and the Madgod wouldn't want you to become any less desirable, so that poses a problem in reshaping your duties. But I think it's possible. Anyone who has enjoyed your services will want more, won't they?"

"I would hope so, your Grace."

"Then you'll need to set limits, that are generous enough not to disappoint them, but are short of their ultimate hopes. Leave them wanting, but not dissatisfied. Do you think you can do that?"

"I am uncertain. It is not fully clear what you are asking me to do."

"Just a few minutes ago, you were trying to slow me down, to prolong our pleasure. Denying me and encouraging me at the same time. That's the kind of contradiction that you need to bring to your work all the time. You need to tease, and withold before giving. You've shown me you can do that, when you want to. Now apply that principle all the time."

"Are all the Mazken to do this?" Afri asked.

"Only the ones who work here for Dyssa," he replied. "The others should continue their guard duties as before. And remember that the men need to pay the brothel for everything. No free samples! And before I forget, Dyssa will decide who goes with whom. She'll need your advice if they ask for anything unusual, but the decision is hers."

"No, your Grace, I meant the five of us here. Are we all needed for this work?"

"Hmmm... perhaps someone of your rank is more than it requires, and five might well be too many. You have a good point."

Afri hadn't considered that she might be the first to go. She looked quite alarmed until he continued. "But we won't know what kind of numbers this place will see, until the word gets out about the changes we've made. Let's continue with the present setup for a while, and review it in a month or so."

Clark leaned back against Afri and fell asleep, leaving her to ponder how to make sure there was enough business for a Bosmer and at least five Mazken.

---

In the morning, Clark walked back up the tunnel to the main pit chamber to see Dyssa. One of the Mazken was rubbing her back, where it always seemed to ache. "No, carry on doing that," he told her. "I only want to talk with Dyssa at the moment."

"Still regretting the weight of those?" he asked. "I'm sure another spell could reverse things, and shrink them back to regular size."

"Well yes, they're a problem," Dyssa admitted. "But won't I still need something special to offer if I'm to make the brothel a success? The Mazken are all bigger than I am in every other respect, too. Who'd want a little Bosmer when they can have them?"

"All the men who'd be intimidated by a woman who's bigger than they are. And all the men who prefer the one that doesn't remind them of a guard."

"I just don't want to make another bad decision," she told him. "Please, help me choose."

"When the Madgod needs to make an important deliberation, he consults with Dyus and Haskill. I'm not sure if your breasts are important enough to justify getting their opinion, but I'll just have to ask them that question first."

---

Haskill was intrigued to discover that the Madgod had taken an interest in the brothel. "If he thinks it has significance, then maybe we should concern ourselves with the details. I have learned not to dismiss his intuitions."

Dyus concurred. "While it may seem an inconsequential matter, my calculations show a continuing influence into the future. All choices alter what follows, and Dyssa's is no exception."

"We should go and take a look at the problem," Haskill decided. "And take some time to discuss it with Dyssa herself."

"A good course of action," Dyus agreed.

Clark is getting to be quite a good brothel troubleshooter! I guess all of his hard field work is standing him well in that regard as he makes what seem to be some excellent suggestions.

Haskill the boob consultant! I love it!!!

Couple small nits:
- ’A liitle later, his head was in her lap, and she was massaging his stomach.’
- "Hmmm... perhaps someone of your rank is more than than it requires, and five might well be too many.”

Clark instructing them on teasing and not giving out freebies had my rolling, but this above ruined my monitor, ROFL !!

Great update, I am really loving Clark's brothel-saving trip to the SI! Awesome Write!

@Acadian: Haskill has a lot more to contribute than just his opinion. This episode will let him show Dyssa his l337 skillz.

@mALX: Haskill and Dyus thought they were at least worth investigating, and they do prove to be a task that requires their particular skills.

--------------

Previously: Clark has gone to Haskill and Dyus for advice on Dyssa's problems.

---------------

New Sheoth - Better Bespoke Boobies

Clark had been asked to collect some more alchemical ingredients for Miranu and Medora while he was in the Shivering Isles. "No void essence this time," Taminwe had reassured him, "just the things you can get from plants. But if the shops have any hunger tongues, or hounds' teeth, you could pick up some of those, as well. Grummite eggs are another item you might find." He could spend the rest of the day shopping in Bliss and Crucible, and then look around the city walls for more. That would give Dyssa enough time to come to a decision.

When Clark returned to Dyssa's Den of Debauchery, he was delighted to see that she'd already had the reduction. "Tell me all about it."

"Well, I know you said that you'd consult with Haskill and Dyus, but I didn't expect them both to come down here in person! I was wearing my usual robe, you know the one that shows everything? So they could see my problems quite clearly."

Clark nodded. Dyssa was not exactly subtle with her display. But what she'd been displaying weren't subtle either.

"Sit down on the bed, this is likely to be a lengthy story," she told him.

Dyus had been the first to approach her. Haskill had gone to the Autkendo and arranged for the all the Mazken to go down the pool, out of the way. "Fascinating," Dyus had said. "You actually chose this size, did you?"

She'd admitted that her instructions to the mage hadn't been very precise. She'd just asked him to make them bigger, and this was the result. He'd clearly thought that a significant increase was called for, not just an incremental change.

Dyus had examined them closely, lifting them to judge the weight , and squeezing gently to get an idea of the firmness, and texture. He'd made notes in a small book as he did so.

Haskill had joined him, and repeated much of the same survey, except that he didn't write anything down. "They do exhibit a proper symmetry," he'd remarked to Dyus, holding one up in each hand. "At least we don't have any corrections to make in that respect."

She'd reached the conclusion at that point that they were actually proposing to perform the work themselves. She'd asked about that.

Dyus was a Master of Alteration. He'd been able to craft the new Staff of Sheogorath from the branch of the Tree of Shades and Ciirta's eye, so changing the size of her breasts was trivial by comparison. But Haskill had come with him in his capacity as a Master of Conjuration. There was another aspect of the situation that would call for his expertise, also.

"You perceived a need for larger breasts," Dyus told her, "and my calculations indicate that there was some truth in your assessment. They are a phenomenon that has appeal in their uniqueness."

She'd told him that Clark had mentioned Silanu to her, so she knew they weren't all that unique. Nevertheless, Dyus insisted, he was talking about the Shivering Isles in particular. His projections did not suggest any others of similar proportions in this realm.

"We have to consider her continuing well-being," Haskill reminded his colleague. "She appears reluctant to use any kind of support that might conceal them, and they are an issue of some gravity."

"Quite, and we must make sure that her enjoyment of life is in no way diminished by what we do. Perhaps we should spend some time calibrating her responses?"

She hadn't understood what they were talking about. Apparently some kind of measurement was needed, as they produced several sets of calipers, and a measuring tape.

"I hope you won't find any of this unpleasant," Haskill told her, leaving her a little apprehensive.

It turned out to be quite the opposite. She'd never had so much attention to her nipples before. They were squeezed, warmed, chilled, and made to tingle with weak shocks, and each time they were measured to see how they reacted.

"All quite remarkable. We must be certain to retain it all." Dyus pronounced.

"Do your calculations...?" Haskill began.

"They do indicate a high probability of success so far," he replied. "But we haven't completed the analysis yet."

"Ah yes. Miss Dyssa, in order to determine the indirect effects, the next stage will require a more intimate level of contact with other parts of your body. Is that acceptable to you?"

Since she was intending a career as a harlot, she had no reason to object to anything. She just wasn't expecting the two old men to be able to arouse her as much as they did! Or for them to stop and take measurements when she was least expecting it.

"I believe we have enough data to begin," said Dyus, a little out of breath. Haskill just nodded.

Haskill went to her back, reached around and put his hands below her breasts, and lifted them slightly. "Ready," he announced. Dyus stood in front of her, and placed his hands on them. Again, she anticipated discomfort, but the reality was the total opposite.

The three were surrounded by swirling white and yellow clouds of mist. "Hold for another three seconds, please," Haskill's voice said in her ear.

"There, it's done," Dyus told her, and she looked down to see the results.

"I think they did very well," Clark told her. "They really suit you now, and I'm sure they're much lighter than they used to be."

"Wait, I've only told you half the story," Dyssa interrupted. "What came next was a real surprise."

"We should not just trust appearances, should we?" they'd said. All the tests that they'd performed earlier had to be repeated, to make sure all that had changed was the size.

"I'm getting slightly different numbers," Dyus had told Haskill, "but my calculations include a factor for her anticipation this time, as well as residual arousal from the first round. Her responses are within the ranges I was expecting, so far."

"Good, that means we can move on to the subjective evaluations. Miss Dyssa, how does it feel when I do this? As good as it did before? Better?"

Haskill continued, and Dyus took notes, for several more enjoyable minutes.

"Although I have already predicted your answer, Haskill, it would gratify me if you'd give me your opinion of the results from your own perspective," Dyus asked.

"It's a tricky balance between soft and firm, but I think you've achieved it. And I like her new look. The height is right, and they balance with the rest of her."

"Good, then it's time for your part."

She wondered what more could there be to do. She had her new figure, and they'd checked it out every way she could imagine. Plus a few others. She wouldn't mind playing a bit longer, it had all been most pleasurable so far, but what else could they have in mind?

"Miss Dyssa," Haskill began "Dyus has indicated to me that your larger self was something that this realm needs to keep available, so we have arranged to make that possible. Hence the need for my own expertise. I was able to capture the surplus and send it to another place whence it may be summoned. I shall teach you a spell that will allow you to have your old shape back, whenever you feel the need to do so. It is a power that you will only be able to cast once per day, but that will ensure that it does not become tiring for you."

He continued. "If you will cast the spell now, we can proceed with the confirmation of its effects. We have a limited time available for measurements, so most of this will be subjective."

"And then we all went at it like someone had cast frenzy" she exclaimed. "I don't know where they found the energy. But I found out that I can handle having big ones for a short time, and not get the backache like I did before, so it's much better this way. If I want to do anything where they'd get in the way, I can do it before I cast the spell, or after it's worn off."

"So now you have choices to make every day," Clark reminded her. "You can only use it once, and you've got to decide when is the right time."

"But if I get it wrong, I just have to wait for it to wear off. And if I can't decide, I've still got these!"

"Yes, those are rather nice, aren't they?" Clark agreed.

---

Back at Pasha's side of the brothel, Arneh and the goblin were missing, and a number of partly-dressed Aureals had taken their places.

"You'll have to ask Pasha, if you want our services," the first one told him. "She handles the business side."
He knew this wasn't Pasha's idea, it made too much sense, so he approached the Golden Saint with the officer's helmet. She wasn't wearing much else, he noticed.

Pelaurig Stanza explained that Arneh had told her about his earlier visit. She'd interrogated Pasha and Dyssa, and got the whole story that way. The infernal Mazken never had original ideas of their own, so she wasn't surprised that this was his in the first place.

She understood that Sheogorath's daedra, both Mazken and Aureal, were here to further his goal of promoting madness. That was why their uniforms were lacking as armor, but showed off their perfect bodies so well. But that was only effective up to a point. The ones that could see, and use their imagination, would be affected. There would be others that needed a taste of the forbidden before they could appreciate it fully.

She probably means that literally, Clark thought.

"Clearly this task needed the best, so I appointed myself." she continued. "With a few select colleagues that I believe fit the requirements."

"They are magnificent," Clark agreed. "But don't you think they might be a bit daunting for the mortals who come here? That's a very high standard for the sort of folks you get in the Shivering Isles."

"Even the Mazken are more than the mortals deserve," Stanza retorted, "but still they keep busy at Dyssa's. I doubt that the mortals even think about it. That is the delicious subtlety of the idea. The mortals will not notice that they are being trained to higher standards, until they discover that they can be satisfied only by us!"

Clark was briefly concerned that she might be right, but he remembered his own experience with Goldie. She'd been Sanguine's strumpet for as long as these Aureals had been guards. He'd thought that he'd never have an experience to match that, until fresh, innocent little Meena had captivated him. No it wasn't the same, but that was the whole point!

Doubtless more fun than Dyus and Haskill have had since Jyggalag ate all the cheese and brought some Order to the Isles! Or was that clouds? What a skilled pair or cosmetic surgeons, even tossing in the summonable bonus feature!

On the other side, it seems the Golden Girls have dumped their goblin? I should think there would be some call for that sort of thing in the SI.

Fun, as ever!

This chapter gave the feel (get it? Lol) of a cross between "The Road To Wellville" and "Barberella," and had me rolling laughing the whole way through, ROFL!! Really funny, I don't know how you think this stuff up! Awesome Write!

Summon Big Ones! Have we found an application for the school of Mysticism yet? This chapter had lots of fun magery.