Thank you my friend. Hope you had a good bday. This story is getting longer than I thought, mostly due to dialog. It's looking like my birthday perhaps, not yours, that it'll near conclusion!



Hee hee yeah. So tempting. She was following the patrol for awhile, for safety's sake. The patrol rushes off at some point to deal with some baddies. The horse is free. Next thing we know....


Yes, I remember Simplicia and Teresa had quite a bond. Good to know she also played a part in Buffy's tale as well.



Yes! I just figure she'd probably be outside late at night. Maybe she stayed into the Market well after her bedtime, for whatever reason.

Thanks all. I am a little hungover this morning, yet I just managed to write the next chapter, somehow.

Where we left off: Jayne spoke to Simplicia the Slow. Simplicia was able to inform Jayne that she can find out more about her past crime charges by speaking to Vinicia of the Imperial Office. Simplicia also informed that (as far as she knows) there is only one remaining member of Jayne's former team left in the Imperial City.

Or, here's the in-game quest update.

Chapter X: Sussing Things Out

"If you've got a complaint, you've come to the right place. It's what I do. Listen to complaints. All ... day."

The afternoon had remained fair. Late-summer weather at its finest. Glorious sunlight was accelerating toward evening as Jayne entered the Office of Imperial Commerce. Jayne remembered Vinicia Melissaeia from long ago, when perhaps she did have a complaint.

"Ehm, my name is Jayne Goodfall, that's G-O-O-D-F-A-L-L. Ehm, I do not have a complaint. I understand nowadays you keep record of past crimes incurred, and I am curious if you have anything regarding my name?"

Vinicia explained that yes, her office did keep track of past crimes nowadays, but only for those criminals who had been pardoned. Jayne was expecting Vinicia to go bustling off into some back office perhaps, where she'd then look up any pertinent documents. The process would take some time, after which the office lady would come back harried, and in a fouler mood than usual. But to Jayne's surprise, all Vinicia had to do was tap a small cube upon her desk, then speak the names 'Goodfall, Jayne.' She dove under her counter, and then stood up holding some sort of magical, metallic tablet. After a few awkward moments, a message apparently printed onto this tablet. Vinicia then recited the message.*

"Turns out, some time during the aftermath of the Oblivion Crisis, a fair number of statutes were reviewed, amended, revised, and so on. Most criminals were deemed wretched scum! Rotting away in their cells, and we'd hope to NEVER see them returned!" she said, with real venom in her voice. But then her face, and tone, softened. "You, on the other hand..." the office lady tapped her tablet, and blinked. "Well, you were one of a handful which were looked up, then deemed unnecessarily unlawful."

"My, well this is good news." Jayne tried to keep her face neutral; would not allow herself to smile.

"For awhile, your bounty was high. Over 5,000. But this was dropped to a mere hundred as the Elder Council shifted seats, for a mere resistance charge. But then after the Fourth Era was conceived, even this charge was dropped. Seems you might have some friends in high places," she said with a wink.

"I .. err... I see. Well no. I mean yes. I must have some friends in high places. Well I thank thee, I suppose."

"Is that all?" Melissaeia asked abruptly, sliding her magical device away. "Any other questions? I must get back to all the usual complaints which have been filed."

Officially relieved, Jayne had nothing more to say. She nodded, then left Vinicia to her supposed tasks.



The wind had picked up at some point, as the day's slumber was about to occur. All around, light had changed from a brilliant gold, to rosier in color. Late summer weather at its finest. Jayne made her way from the Market District to Talos Plaza. Inside the Tiber Septim Hotel was the elf she'd wanted to find.

Draynas Pertrucio, also known as 'Ignytiq' for reasons Jayne had long forgotten, was standing right there, in the center. "Juh...Juh.... Jayne??? ... Jayne Goodfall? Is it really you standing before me?"

"Yes, it is me," Jayne answered. Quickly, she observed Ignytiq's decor: a finely-tailored blouse and trouser set whcih could easily have cost over a hundred gold. His shoes were also of the type frequently worn by nobles. "Looks as though you've done well for yourself," she said with a smile. Inside, however, she was definitely not smiling.

"Oh how delightful!" the elf answered with a smile of his own. He took a sip of mead. "I'd been wondering.... we'd been wondering what happened to you?" he said awkwardly. "Things got worrisome you see, quite so, for quite a while after you left."

"Yes, well, 'tis a long story. If you care to hear it."

"I... I thought you were dead!" he explained. "We all did! So yes, I do certainly care to hear it."

Over the next two hours, she told her tale, allowing Ignytiq to buy her a beer, but only one. Her coin had almost run out, after all, and she was not about to splurge. The Bosmer was genuinely shocked, as Jayne revealed her past. She told it all in great detail, and surprised herself that she did so in a rather cold manner. As though she were now speaking of someone else.

But she could not get her head past Ignytiq's attire: A finely-tailored blouse and trouser set which could easily have cost over a hundred gold. Back in the days of the Third Era, none of them would allow themselves to appear in such a garish way. They were employees of the State, for Akatosh's sake!

"What of our bureau, Ignytiq?" she finally asked. "I want to know what has happened to our illustrious department here?"

"Yes, it still exists. Simplicia told you right. However, the actual grouping has been whittled down to just one."

"Oh? It has?"

"Yes that's right. I am the only one left. I am the only one who's been left in charge of the entire Imperial Inquest Field Office, as it is now termed."

"But..." Jayne started, fighting her emotions, really glad she'd only had one beer. "But as I knew you back in the days, you were purely an academic." Her voice took on a haughty tone. She did not particularly like this tone, but there was nothing she could do about it. The man before her, who had once spilled a jar full of flying, stinging gnats he'd been so careless and uncomfortable around wildlife (causing the entire room to require magical extermination), was now stomping around in clothes fit for a gentleman. "And as I can see from your manner of dressing, and your skin tone, it's obviously been some time since you have even been outside the city. Am I right?"

"Hey, don't you judge me, Jayne!" the Bosmer snapped. "I do plenty of research in the field! In the muck and the mire and...and roaming around on horseback and..."

It was Jayne's raised eyebrows which perhaps stopped this lie right in its tracks.

"Drats. Yes, you are right. I am solely one for the books, just as I was in your time. But it's not my fault Jayne, it is NOT! ... They merely stripped down our entire posse, sent them off to other provinces. Some of them merely left, and found other work outside, in other counties. Until I was left. Only me! ... It all came down to the Elder Council itself, I had nothing to do with it!"

He was getting loud, his voice beginning to carry. Unlike Jayne, Ignytiq had already a couple meads by now, maybe more. Though not blatantly intoxicated, he was losing his temper, his drink now having its say. Which in her opinion, was a good thing. She could certainly relate.

"Easy, my friend. Calm down," she grabbed his wrist. "Easy there. I realize there are circumstances which are beyond yer control, Draynas. And truth be told, I certainly blame myself most of all."

The elf seemed not appeased though, at Jayne's consoling, or otherwise. He was angry. His face was all scrunched up with ire.

"Listen. Maybe we can begin anew. Maybe, you know, once I have announced my official return to the Elder Council, changes can be made, and things can then--"

But the elf wasn't hearing any of this. "Begin anew? ... You mean, the entire research team, built back up again, from where we left off? .... Oh no, no, no, I am afraid not. You don't know of the edict which was presented down from Chancellor Ocato himself. HE disbanded the entire inquest team, except for me. All the funds, the backings, the requests for exploration, all of that was canned."

"All of that was canned," she repeated. Why am I not surprised?

"I'm sorry to say, but they won't have you back. Of this, I am sure. Even if your criminal proceedings have been overturned, your name is like poison amongst the council, now."

Jayne pouted, taking this news in. But what were my expectations? What, exactly? She could not really think clearly now. Middle-aged and coinless. So poor, she'd have to sleep outside again. For she was not going to ask this elf, now pompous-looking and now so well-to-do, if she could stay in his place. "Yes, but maybe..."

"No Jayne. There is no 'maybe.'" He took a moment, finishing his mead. "Go speak to any of them tomorrow once council has convened, and you shall see. Your name is like poison now. Nothing can be done about this." He then furrowed his brow, seeming lost in thought for a moment.

Jayne glared. Not at Ignytiq, but at all the Tiber Septim patrons who were blabbing carelessly about this and that. Whose lives hadn't been ruined by their own (very large) careless mistake.

"I have an idea," the Bosmer said after a few moments' thought, tapping the table he was now sitting upon. "Yes. Perhaps I can arrange something for you here."

Jayne's gaze turned back toward her former workmate. Long ago, it was her who was constantly arranging things for him. Bookish things, of course.

"Meet me in Luther Broad's Boarding House at midnight. Yes, I think I can arrange something special for you indeed! And do not tell anyone. This shall be our own little secret."

Jayne couldn't answer verbally at first, so instead she nodded. "Luther Broad's Boarding House. Sure, I can do that. But what have you in mind?"

"No, I cannot say that here," he was now whispering. "THEY might be listening, you know. But here, take this gold," Ignytiq furthered, handing Jayne some coin. "It's a little something for you. You can use it to stay at Luther Broad's if you like. Looks as though you are indeed doomed to fall into a nice, warm bed, eh?"

"Thank you."

"Do not forget our date though, and don't oversleep. Luther Broad's at midnight," he said, still whispering. He then rose, tipped her a wink, and stalked off.

Jayne watched him go, wondering if it wasn't too late to order that second beer.


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

Meeting with Vinicia (my character's face looks really nice in that soft candle light)

Lovely Market Scene

"But it's not my fault, Jayne. It's NOT!!!"


* I've been watching too much Black Mirror lately.

I love how Vinicia has modernized her bookkeeping. It is the Fourth Era, after all!

And a nice resolution to Jayne's criminality concerns. Whew!

An interesting meeting with Iggy. So the Council is holding their goblin-grudge against Jayne. Hmm, I wonder what sort of proposal the elf has for her at midnight?

Gosh you are very right about that meeting with Vinicia screenshot – Jayne really looks lovely there!

Meh... so many mistakes! I was hungover though!

I think I got 'em all now. I hope. Enjoy.

It sounds like Vinicia Melissaeia works the service desk for the Empire...

Vincia has a cool magical computer for looking up cases.

I wonder who her friends in high places might be? Apparently they are not on the Elder Council though, according to Ignite It.

He wants to meet at Luther Broad's at midnight? That does not sound sketchy at all!

Jayne can now sleep in peace, knowing that she won't need to rot in the Imperial prison. She won't be labeled as a criminal scum either.

Meeting an old acquaintance and seeing him clad in fine clothes obviously made Jayne angry.

There's quite a lot of anger in this old lady, I wonder, where this will lead.

She looks great by candlelight and I like the market scene, as she's passing the very same inn, where she's going to go soon.

Acadian -- I've been watching too much Black Mirror. This is a show on Netflix, every episode features a different cast, different plots. They're very well done. Mostly themed with the latest tech, or ideas which could become true in the future. And so if they have magic in Cyrodiil ....

SubRosa: Sketchy! Interesting word.

Lopov: Just imagine losing your job, and then some guy you used to work with who you know is not qualified now holds that position.

Hello. So, I keep thinking of more stuff I want to add to this story, which is causing me some stress, because I really wanted to get it done before Halloween / my birthday. The Imperial City stuff was only supposed to be two chapters, for instance.

So what I am going to do is divide the entire story into two parts. So there'll be two books. Book one is what is being written now. That'll get done by the end of October (assuming no breaks). Then maybe I'll take a long break. I'll write the second book some time in 2020.

Book one's ending is going to be fabulous, I feel.

Those who are pressed for time can skip the dream sequence below. I kept going back and forth, whether I should add that or not. It has nothing to do with the story's progression.

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Chapter XI: The Plan

Middas, 1:55 am

Jayne left the Tiber Septim Hotel, then rented a room in Luther Broad's, just as Ignytiq had recommended. Ten gold out of the fifty the Bosmer had given her. Since she'd started the evening with just ten, this left her with exactly fifty.

She had every intention of following his advice further. Don't oversleep. But once actually in her rented room, a room with four actual walls made of stone and mortar, an actual ceiling, and a sturdy oak door to close safely behind her, a room in which the dirtiest thing was a mere spoof of dust inhabiting one far corner, well, she simply could not resist at least a nap. Over the past few years, it'd been nothing but bedrolls and hammocks if she were lucky.. More often, she'd wind up sleeping on the ground itself.

She sat upon the room's bed, a single bed fit for one person. Its pillow case made of some material she hadn't laid her head upon in years: silk. Encased within this pillow were plenty of feathers. She could feel them all in there, bundled just for her comfort. Blankets and sheets to cuddle within. She spent a few moments wresting those sheets into a suitable shape for her body.

"Just a nap" she said aloud.




The skies were red and black, twisting high above with storm. Lightning bolts relayed across the platitudes, answered by the recoil of frequent thunder. Jayne Goodfall was somewhere within the Imperial City's Green Emperor Way, afraid for her life. Afraid, but at least not alone. There were several others about, as the frightening storm commenced. Most were running in fear. As she looked upward, she could see White Gold Tower there, in the center. And to her left, the sound of its main doors, opening.

There she is! ... She can help us! said a blue-robed man with dark eyes, and dark hair. Juh-Juh- Jayne Goodfall? Come with us NOW.

Though the man was commanding, and the soldiers around him formidable, Jayne felt only relief that she was being recognized, and sought. Of course, how can I assist? I shall do as I can, she answered.

The group roamed quickly through Green Emperor Way, rushing past stones and mausoleums, finally passing through a large door which led to the city's Temple District. Jayne looked around in fascination and fear, as the blue-robed man suddenly morphed into a very large creature, a dragon in fact, then facing what she knew was Mehrunes Dagon himself! The soldiers began doing all they possibly could to help the blue-robed man-turned-dragon, shooting silver arrows, swinging silver swords, but their input was of little help.

Jayne! Martin is failing! somebody called out. Martin is failing! We need your help!

MY help? she shouted.

Call your goblins! Call them NOW! We need them here, NOW!

By mere thought, the plaza was quickly filled with dozens of the green-skinned humanoid creatures, zipping this way, and that. Beside her, the temple began to crumble as Mehrunes spotted Jayne, then began pounding upon its walls! Jayne stood steadfastedly, though. But..... the goblins weren't attacking Mehrunes! NO! They were going for the soldiers themselves! Dozens of ancillary fights broke out, axes, blades, and staves swinging! Arrows and varieties of spells zipping this way and that! Up above, the tall man who'd become a dragon was now on his knees, struggling on the other side of the district, knocking over an entire house as he stumbled.

BREAK THEM UP!!! somebody called. BREAK THEM UP!!! BREAK THEM UP!!!





Middas, 2:55 am

"Wake up Jayne, Wake UP!"

"Uuuh... Uhn!" she flailed. Nearly flung her pillow at the shape before her, "Oh. Draynas! My goodness! My apologies!" She sat up quickly, embarrassed.

"Hee hee, oh Jayne, if you could see your face right now!" It was Ignytiq standing before her, with a wooden box in his hands. "I told you not to oversleep! Been waiting downstairs now for over an hour, before I'd gained the foresight to ask Luther if someone matching your description showed up earlier, then rented a room."

"My," Jayne's embarrassment continued. "Such a potent dream." She clawed for the water she'd left on the room's nightstand. Took a sip. Congratulated herself silently for not buying any beer.

"Well, listen," Ignytiq said, speaking quietly. "I have several ideas which can help you, so listen close."

"Yes, surely I am listening." She had a seat upon the comfortable bed, her newest friend in all the world of Tamriel.

He was smiling. "I think I've found a way to get you back into White Gold Tower, and ultimately back into your position as head of the Inquest Team."

"You... you have?"

"Yes. Well, this will take some time, Jayne. Keep this in mind. It will take some time. Now, first step. You might be surprised to learn this, but over all these years, your precious tome of research notes has survived. Still within White Gold Tower, still within your old quarters."

Jayne smiled. "You kept my tome!"

"Yes. Of course I have!" he spoke a little louder. "You deserve all due respect for all your service to the Empire, after all. And as I said, they are safely within what used to be your office."

"Well, how lovely." Jayne was grinning now. "I cannot wait to repossess those. So, what of this plan, then?"

The elf fidgeted open the wooden box he'd brought in. "Now, in this box I have brought several items: Three keys, and some special garb for you to wear. My idea is thus: you are going to go into White Gold Tower, where you can return to your office. Your research notes are there, as well as a few documents you can sign.."

"Documents to sign? .... What sort of documents?"

"The genius of my plan comes now. I cannot just have you brought back into the city itself, back into White Gold Tower, and back amongst the Elder Council. As I said previously, this is something which cannot be done. However, what I can do is locate you into another town. Whichever town you'd like, be it Chorrol or Cheydinhal. Your choice. But my suggestion is Weye. Since the conclusion of the Oblivion Crisis, Weye, just outside of the city itself, has seen a surprising array of development."

"You would locate me in Weye. But why? I do not understand."

"I need you Jayne!" the elf suddenly burst, a little too loudly perhaps, for he then hushed his voice. "I need your direction and influence! You don't know what it's like! All day long, I manage inquests for research, yes, but it's all books! All I deal with are books.. I haven't got any real-world experience to draw from!"

Jayne nodded. Thought a moment.

"It would be as though you'd be back within your old position, but in a rather silent manner. At least for awhile. The council would not know it was you. They'd only know of my request for inquest expansion, which is where those documents come in. We could build back to where we were, day by day. Especially if you were in Weye, which is not too far to travel. Do you see?"

Jayne nodded again. She was liking this plan, seeing where he was going with it. "Yer saying you'd have me continue on just outside of the city, eh?"

"Yes, for awhile, at least. We'd be partners, you and I. Under payment and employment of the city, itself, if I can pull this off. And nobody within the council would know."

"I see. But why have me forge some documents within the tower? Why not just bring them to me in the morning?"

"Oh, I couldn't do that! We're after-hours right now," he explained. "And I cannot be seen mucking about within the Council chambers too much. Keep in mind, it will take at least a day before I can even find a moment to slip in and out of the chambers, unseen, once those documents have been signed. My request will be official you see, but I am not waiting for any sort official answer. I am merely going to prepare the proper documents, then shove them into the desk of the proper council member. It would be as though a vote had commenced at some time, and this vote was mostly 'Ayes'. There will be no actual vote however, but nowadays the council has become so scattered and flummoxed, the proper official I mentioned won't have time to gather this notion."

"Sure. But you are saying I can somehow just walk into White Gold Tower, where you've cautioned me about visibility, sign these documents, grab my research tome, and you'd basically handle the rest?"

"Exactly. Brilliant, isn't it?"

Jayne looked doubtful. "Well, I suppose." She moved her hands in silent thought, from one side of her lap to the other, weighing an unspoken decision "Well. Well, what have I got to lose, eh?"

He was handing her three keys. "Now, these will get you into the tower itself, and obviously, one of them fits what used to be your office," he gave her the keys, then handed her the clothes. "What I have here are a robe and hood set. They will disguise you, especially if you go in at night. Everyone will simply assume you are part of the Religious Council subset. It's a new faction of monks and scribes, allowed to roam freely within the tower. But especially at night."

Jayne pocketed the keys, then took the clothes. Donned her head within the hood. Looked around.

"Do not succeed in getting caught," Ignytiq warned. "Keep to yourself. Do not speak to anyone. Nobody will question you then."

"Do ya assume I'm that daft?" She narrowed her eyes. "Of course I shall keep to myself."

"May the Aedra of the sky speed you along!" He lifted his box, then motioned for her to follow him.

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

Jayne's frightening dream

Ignityq's Plan

I love the dream sequence, very-well written. I wouldn't recommend anyone to skip it.

I have a feeling that Ignytiq is up to no good...

Sketchy is a trendy term these days, meaning anything that looks less than legal.


Renee's storytelling is gone out of control! Seriously, write as much as feels right.

After reading about Jayne's comfy bed and feather pillow, I am ready to go back to sleep!

That was quite a nightmare. Jayne's hopes turned to horror as her goblins became the enemy.

This Igniter guy is definitely suspicious.

Aww, another reminder that her plans for goblins and the IC didn't go so well. You can lead a goblin to Mehrunes Dagon but you can't make it attack the correct target.

'She had a seat upon the comfortable bed, her newest friend in all the world of Tamriel.'
- - Love this line!

Yes, I'm not sure I trust Ignito either. . . . We shall see.

SubRosa is right about writing how and what feels right. You'll find your readers can be pretty intuitive about picking up on what YOUR objectives for writing are and then supporting your goals. One nice thing about fan fic for fun is the freedom and flexibility it provides. Most of us here like it when a writer here 'lingers' and spends as much time as the story calls for in whatever areas the writer feels the story calls for. One example I like to use is a full episode of 1200-1500 or so words where Buffy was making camp for the night and spent 80% of the episode talking about how she made her toothcleaning powder and how she and Daenlin 'fletched' her toothbrush with bamboo and boar bristles. And casting all modesty aside, Buffy did a pretty good job of making it a fun and interesting episode.

Renee, I know you've been nervous about writing and calling it fan fiction. But fan fiction is exactly what you're writing - and doing a fine job of it if I may say so. I hope you can now realize that we are not hypercritical ogres but, rather, quite supportive of the efforts of our writers here. What I'm getting at is that if you would like this thread moved from here in the Ob cheats section over the fan fiction section of the forum, just let SubRosa or I know. Totally your call though.

We hypercritical ogres are waiting over there for the fresh meat!

Also "A supercritical fluid is any substance at a temperature and pressure above its critical point, where distinct liquid and gas phases do not exist." Or in other words, it can't boil because the pressure is too high. Hypercritical is an order of magnitude beyond that. Ogres don't like being under that kind of pressure and it makes them grumpy.

Lopov, my friend. Now why would you suppose Ignytiq is up to no good?

I was unsure whether I should add that dream, because originally I was going to mash last week's chapter and this week's into one. And that woulda been too much text.

The most amazing thing about that dream (to me) was not its abruptness. I was amazed that all my HTML codes worked, you know, for all that italic text. I hand-wrote all those codes, like this: [ I ] text [ / I ] .. I wrote that dream, then managed to write all those codes in about 15 minutes. Amazingly, they worked too! When I copy/pasted that story I was expecting at least one mistake, but my gosh, everything was flawless!

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

SubRosa: wow really? I shall do so then (write as much as I like, that is). I still tend to cut stuff out though, here and there. Believe me, I get tempted to add every silly conversation Jayne hears as she goes about the city, like I used to do when gaming with Kahreem. :lol; That would be way too much, though.

Yes, going back to bed is one of my favorite hobbies. I'm pretty good at it. Especially on Sundays!

Really? You also think the elf is up to no good? Why do people keep saying this?

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

Acadian: Again with suspicions about the elf! Well what if he actually means well? He seems pretty goodhearted to me, so far. *shrugs*

Heck yes, you do add all sorts of little things like toiletries into your tales, this is true. I remember being impressed by the way Buffy would make homemade things out of bare ingredients, and you'd explain all the different items & ingredients she used. Lopov and I were recently talking about Buffy Book 2, comparing our favorite moments. Mine was when she went into that giant tree-city. And then brought Superian up there too!

Nice. So you're saying it was okay that I sort of went off-track with her dream. Good! I get sort of nervous about this story, that is true. Whoa. This is Fan Fiction??? Whoa, I need a drink. Yikes. Are you sure?

I want to discuss story writing for a moment. Writing this story behind-the-scenes is different from anything else, okay? ... Each Kahreem chapter for instance, took about 2 hours usually, with an hour of editing. Maybe another half-hour to add pictures. I was having a lot of fun, laughing as the story went along. I always gamed & wrote in real-time, too.

Well with Goblin Lady, each of these chapters is taking SIX hours, or more. I enjoy it, but then sometimes I also get frazzled! I look at the clock and realize it's midnight, and I've been writing since seven. But I'm not just writing, I am also dealing with Construction Set stuff. When you write quests, stuff always goes wrong, especially if you're trying to break out of your usual box of safety. So that takes extra time, too.

And then I ask myself all sorts of questions. "What does that guard think when Jayne lays out her past?" Why does he think she's BSing him?, and so on. It gets, actually, like, philosophical, and psychological, writing this story does.

Anyways, thanks, friend.

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ghastley: Ha ha! I need another drink!

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To all: How long do you spend writing your stories? I am curious. What goes on behind the scenes?

Chapter XII: White Gold Tower

Middas, 3:55 am

Ignytiq and Jayne planned on heading toward the Imperial City's White Gold Tower, but the hours had gone late. Much time had passed; it was close to four in the morning by then. The Bosmer and the Imperial agreed that it'd be best if they waited until the next night, to hatch their planned escapade. The Bosmer promised to meet his former taskmaster later on hat night, in Merchants Inn. All of this meant Jayne was free to spend the entire day, in any manner she wanted.

First priority: More sleep in her actual bed.

It did not take more than four seconds after the elf had left before Jayne was crawling back into comfort. Here she spent many more hours, sleeping, dreaming, wondering, listening to other tenants rise and be off into whatever daily routines.

Secondly: A leisurely day spent.

Bread and beer for break-fast. A slow walk through portions of the city. A long soak in the Market District's Public Bathing House (where she found more beer, as well as wine). Jayne wondered what the fuss was about, this new, free place to bathe? The concept did not make any sense. Upon entering its echoing walls, at first she had no idea where she was to go, to change out of her clothes. Nobody was about, so she simply disrobed righ there, dropping her shirt and skirt by the side of the pool. Eventually she noticed the sign: PLEASE GO THROUGH THE FAR DOOR TO CHANGE OUT OF YOUR CLOTHES, it said.

"Blimey. Well. No matter, I suppose."

All her life, Jayne had been a capable swimmer: Stroking through tepid, lukewarm pondwater here, or cold and salty seawater there. So the Bathing House's body-temperature liquid surprised her. It delighted her! She immediately felt some sort of transformation take place, after entering its warmth. An hour quickly passed, as she floated and dove lazily.

Eventually, Jayne could not resist taking one of the beers, located on a nearby table. She downed it within minutes, unsure whether she had committed a crime. Nobody had shown up though; no guards came rushing in. Her head recieved that familiar, floaty feeling. She began to go for another, wondered if maybe some wine might be even better? ... Then changed her mind. Cannot fall into old habits, lady! Not now. Let us wait and see how the night shall commence.

Dinner in Merchants Inn was served by Velus Hosidius, who still ran the place after all these years. Here, Jayne managed to further abstain. Instead, she drank plain water with her meal. She also spent her time looking around calmly, as other patrons wandered in. She indulged herself, imagining what it'd be like, being amongst common Cyrodiilic society again. Being courted. Being respected.

But, the hours began moving again. It was time to begin. Ignytiq the elf walked in at some point, winking impatiently, causing Jayne's pulse to pick up, her tummy to feel mushy with anticipation.

As patrons all around continued their meals and engaged in ponderous banter, Jayne stalked out quietly. Found a quiet alcove to change out of her clothes, the same clothes she'd been wearing ever since making landfall in Leyawiin. She then left them, right on the ground. She could not part with her totem, however. She'd put too much love and care into its creation, after all. It might still have some value in the future. Would this become a problem?







"You've got my ear citizen. Let's hear it," said a guard minutes later, as Jayne passed out of the Market District, and began nearing the tower.

Jayne said nothing. Did not acknowledge man's greeting. She continued to walk, sweating lightly under Ignytiq's supposed disguise. Overhead, the tower loomed, and she could not help but stop for a moment. Gazed at the massivity of it. But she did not pause for very long. Would one of these monks Ignytiq mentioned gaze and pause at the tower for long? Of course not. It'd be a site to see on that very first day, perhaps.

"Hail good citizen," another guard interrupted, making some sort of small salute. "How can I be of service?"

Jayne did not answer. Began plodding again, but more briskly. As though she were here every night, and knew where she had to go. But then, first problem:

Where are the tower's doors?

She began circling White Gold's base, unsure of where its exact entry was located. After several minutes (and probably an almost complete orbit around the gigantic spire), she finally found it. Walked between a pair of palace guards, then was in the coolness of the tower itself. Turned right. Walked steadily upon the corridor's curved surface.

"Speak," another guard suggested, after Jayne passed through the tower's lower set of doors, and into the upper Elder Council chambers. She paused walking for the slightest of moments. Nobody's telling me I need to contain myself to the first and second floors, she noticed. Nobody's telling me I need to 'show my respect' for the Elder Council, by 'keeping my voice down.'

She smiled under her hood. Ignytiq has apparently planned well.

Her observations were confirmed moments later. Even after she'd passed out of the upper council chambers and into the guards' barracks (forbidden area, for most) nobody broke routine. Nobody was clanking toward her. In their eyes, Jayne was just another monk or a scribe, here in White Gold Tower. In fact, an entire squadron of metal-wearing wardens passed by at one point, half of them pausing to say pleasant hellos to her. As though she belonged.



Ignytiq had said this, just after waking her up the night before from that wretched dream.

Jayne could not help but smile again, wondering if this might actually work. Wondering if it were okay to grin quietly under her hood. Did other members of this 'Religious Council' ever grin as they traveled their nightly routines? One thing's for sure, she thought, being with that gang of thieves surely caused me to become quite the actress.

It was true. Though taken by force by those roustabouts from her quiet life in Seyda Neen, then held agains her will for months, all Jayne could realize now as she padded quietly around the circular hallway was just how grateful she was that she'd been (incidentally) trained by them. Trained to keep calm. Trained to act a part. Trained to be ultimately successful. Or else. That devious training was helping her now, she realized.



Ignytiq had said this, too. As Jayne Goodfall neared the next set of doors she'd need to open, she began to relax. She slowed her pace. A thousand memories then came flooding. Memories of her former workmates. Memories of hours spent looking up obscure references, and studying all sorts of bizarre creatures. She neared the next set of double doors: The Elder Scrolls Library. Location of her former office. She fetched around for the second key Draynas had handed her the night before. Grabbed it out of her pocket. "ESL" had been etched upon its haft. A moment of exhilleration buzzed through Jayne's body, as the key turned the door's tumblers.

The library! Jayne took another moment to pause, before striding confidently forward. Familiar scents of linen and lambskin, all around. A red-robed man approached her as she entered this precious place, then walked by without a word. Ignytiq had done well. The corridor continued to gently curve left before her. Jayne resisted an urge to have a walk into the library itself, instead pressing forward until she saw the actual door to her former office.



Jayne paused. Suddenly grasping. Suddenly alerted.



Statements from her former employee, who now traipsed around the city like a count or a land-baron, wearing stately clothes. Scented by flowery perfumes. Sitting upon that table in the Tiber Septim. His statements were suddenly bothering her. But why?



Jayne reached for the final key. Lifted it out of her pocket. Had a look at its haft, which was engraved with the letters 'B' and 'C', causing more concern. She inserted it within the door's lock, and turned. Finally opened her way into the office itself. Had a look inside.

"You ... fetcher."

Jayne Goodfall, aghast. Yet not entirely surprised.

"You bloody ... bleeding ... FETCHER!!!"

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

Ignytiq's plan

Jayne's leisurely day

Bathhouse Scene

Dinner by candlelight

Walking in White Gold Tower

"Hail good citizen!"

The Office Door`

A pleasant day of bathing and beer. Wise of Jayne to keep her beer consumption under control, given her plans for the evening.

The robe disguise is working, as Jayne is able to wander freely around the White Gold Tower.

Uh-oh, a cliffhanger! I confess just a touch of uncertainty as to whether the 'fetcher' insults are being said by Jayne over a discovery or unexpected encounter in the office, or whether they are the words of someone who has just seen through her disguise.


No easy answer on my end on how long it takes to write stories. Sometimes I ponder for months, then sit down and actually write fairly quickly. Other times it requires outlines and 'storyboarding' to kind of help things along. When I began Book 1, I was basically journaling and writing as I went. By the end of Book 1 I had transitioned to a desire to have a longer range focus and gradually got about 25 episodes (in draft) ahead of posting. I liked that idea enough that I decided for all future endeavors, I would completely draft a story before even beginning to post it. So it was with Book 2 and I found that much more relaxing/enjoyable; that is, having a writing phase followed by an editing/posting phase.

When I write, I don't even think in terms of episodes; that is, I save breaking it into episodes until quite late in the editing process.

Regarding editing, I routinely read the whole story to make sure it all fits. When a piece of the story gets close to posting and is culled out into a prospective episode, it gets lots (and lots) of edits. Most of my edits are done in the word program that I write in but I find much value as posting draws near in viewing the episode in 'forum' view - that is, either via a PM to myself or a draft post that I don't actually post in order to get a different view of the episode which often catches additional minor things to adjust. Another very helpful tool I use for editing is to read the episode aloud - ideally to a willing subject like Mrs Acadian - I am often surprised to find things that are not quite right that only manifest by reading aloud.

Jayne has that guard's ear? Ewwww!

I always want to bark when the guards say "Speak!"

Uh oh, looks like Ignite It's treachery is now coming to fruition. I wonder who BC is? Baurus something? I guess we will find out next episode!

That's very friendly, Renee, you let us hanging on a cliff.

I knew it that Ignytiq is up to no good! Malevolent scheming tree-hugger!

In this story one can really feel the change in mood - it starts peacefully, then it becomes more and more intense with every sentence and Jayne's passing thoughts until the very end.

Acadian: YES, the part when you said you "ponder for months" that's what this story is like. Also, you mention Book 1, where it was more writing each update at a time. That was Kahreem for me, although I'd literally write while I was gaming!

Yes, Book 2 definitely had a sort of 'relaxed' feel to it. I remember. Interesting. Okay, so you'd have a writing phase, and then an editing one. Very neat. I can see how this would work pretty well. It's like, almost a discipline, the way you'd write, right?



Wow. Does your story change as you write and edit it? See, because Goblin Lady keeps changing. She was originally supposed to join Dark Brotherhood, for instance.



YES. This is what GL is like too.



So this is why your story (along with almost everyone else's in the FF section) never has that "Edited by X at X time" messages at the very bottom of the page, right? Maybe I should start editing outside of the actual thread when I start Laprimma's story.

Aw, how nice. Your wife proofreads for ya! That sounds really cozy.


SubRosa and Lopov: Yes a cliffhanger, sorry! BC. You're about to find out right now what this is (it's not a person).

I realized something. I am thinking Jayne went along with the elf's plan partially because she's become so used to getting involved in diabolical schemes in her past, especially after being brainwashed by the group she was with. I did not plan the story this way, but it's something I noticed.

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



Grim faced and forbidding
Their faces closed tight
An angular mass of Cyrodiilans

Pacing at rhythms
Pause in sunlight
A fitful gaze at fallen matron

Flow through the streets
Engaging rumors
En masse to discuss that wretched Missus

Chapter XIII: l'intrigue s'épaissit

A cacophony of stimulations and emotions. Bewilderment. Astonishment. Disappointment. Ignytiq had had all day, Jayne realized, to plan what seemed was supposed to be her ultimate shaming. And I knew it! Deep down, she had known all along; something was not right. Whatever it was, she had certainly fallen for it.

But it wasn't just the scene before her which caused her anger. It wasn't just the severed head located on a desk in the middle of the room, surrounded by candles. It was also the fact that Jayne's former office, which she'd once joked about, calling her 'virtual broom closet,' was now an actual broom closet.

In the past this room held her plain wooden desk, her chair, and a variety of stands, drawers, bookcases, one large filing cabinet, and so on. Now, it was filled with cleaning supplies. Barrels of solvents. Dusters, mops, buckets, and, well, brooms. Assorted bits of paper and old books, lying here and there. Though it still contained a few items familiar to her, the room looked as though it hadn't been used as an office in years.

Her eyes adjusted, while she tried to temper her fury.

The head of a goblin had been placed carefully upon the room's sole table by someone, then surrounded by candles. As though the aim had been to shock and frighten her, perhaps. Jayne stared at it a moment, realizing there was no way Ignytiq could have (1) killed poor creature, (2) gutted it, and then (3) brought it all the way here, carrying it along like some sort of hunter's trophy. No, he'd be retching at the very thought of decapitation! Therefore, he'd had some sort of help.

Jayne stood still, listening carefully. Wondering if Ignytiq himself was about to burst into the room, enjoying this moment, as her haggard face was torn by emotion. Maybe this was some sort of prank, after all. A very tasteless one, of course, but a prank nonetheless.

But she heard no footfalls. Nobody was coming, apparently.

The only item which looked as though it actually belonged was her research tome, which was set upon a small stool. Jayne moved closer to her book, trying to ignore the head sitting two meters away. Was it really her book, though? She shined her torch upon it. She could see its cover was decorated in the way she remembered. So yes, her research tome. Here it lay. She flipped it open. First page had always been her 'dedication' page, in which a variety of her former charges had signed their names. And this was intact. She pored quickly through the rest of her tome, satisfied to see it was all still there. Her familiar scrawls, her familiar sketches. She relaxed, just a bit.

But the purported documents she was supposed to sign were nowhere to be seen. She investigated the room quickly, moving cleaning implements around, pushing them aside, already knowing her search would be futile. And... if what the elf had informed about was true, there'd be no reason why the papers he'd described would be anywhere other than with her tome.

Jayne's intuition triggered. She began moving quickly, leaving her former office behind, fearing she'd meet the elf just outside the door. No, he wasn't there. She stomped angrily down the corridor, no longer caring if anybody noticed her. Out of the Elder Scrolls Library. She did not bother to have a look inside the library itself, already knowing she'd likely never return. Instead, she opened the door to the library's outer ring, began moving upon its corridor, trying to calm her echoing footfalls. Ignytiq, you deplorable nuisance.

"STOP RIGHT THERE criminal scum!"

Jayne halted. A palace guard had moved into view, blocking her path.

"Nobody breaks the law on MY watch," he said ominously. "I'm taking all your stolen goods. You are under arrest now for trespassing. We already know you haven't the gold to pay the fine, so it's off to jail with ya! Now, how to you plead?"

Jayne did not respond at first. Ignitiq .. Draynas ... whatever your bloody name is. You are a fetcher.

Knowing it'd be useless to attempt stating her case, knowing it'd be useless to try and explain why she was there (for doing so would be seen as resistance to arrest) Jayne decided she'd not make the same mistake she made years ago. She would not go rushing off, stealing a stable horse, then fleeing to some other province.

"It's that bloody elf, isn't it? HE is the one who's behind this all. Well, I suppose I have no choice." She handed over her bag. "That tome is mine, and so is this totem. You can confiscate the rest, I do care not."

The guard seemed not to notice her words one way or another. "Hope you rot, criminal scum!" he stated.



Her sentence would not last long, she was informed after being locked up. A mere trespassing charge; it would be over in three days. She had never been arrested before. Long ago, all of this might have caused her some emotion. Not necessarily tears, at least not until she was alone. But certainly surprise, and also a lot of fear.

Now, however, Jayne went through it all with a coolness which she quickly took notice of. Her anger dwindled, as she spent the first several hours pacing around her cell aimlessly. I am not a criminal, she realized. Somehow, all of this was Ignytiq's doing.

She soon learned (from a man who was locked across the hall) that the Imperial City's jails offered conditions which were better than usual. "Was locked up in Bruma for awhile," he called to Jayne. "At least these cells we in now are warm! Swept daily, too. And no rats. Food's not so bad. Have a look in your barrel there. They come and restock every few hours, usually when you're sleeping."

His words were true, especially about the bread, cheese, and water which had been rationed. But within a day, Jayne had gotten sick. Contracted diseases which were later diagnosed as Brain Rot and Greenspore. It seemed no matter how much she slept, she always felt miserable and fatigued.

One day she awoke to find a Khajiit male standing just outside her cell's bars, scratching upon a hand-held board with a quill. He would look at Jayne, scratch something on his board. Look at her again. Scratch again. "Khajiit has no words for yoooo," he told Jayne after she inquired what he was doing.

Time passed, and since there were no windows in the cell. it was impossible to tell just how many hours had gone by. Finally came the moment when she awoke from her bedroll to find a familiar figure standing just outside the bars to her cell. Jayne could actually smell his flowery perfume before she saw who it was.

"Jayne Goodfall," he called out to her. "Here you are, right where I wanted you all along."

Jayne came toward the elf slowly. "Draynas. Despicable moron. Well I suppose yer all delighted now, eh?"

"I may be despicable in your mind, but you cannot deny I'm not daft." Ignytiq paused a moment, as if to let his words sink in. "Oh, what was it you said? 'I'm not that daft, Draynas.' Was that it? ... Well, seems the shoe fits rather nicely now, does it not?" The elf looked at her smugly.

Jayne stayed silent a moment, thinking. "You left my tome," she finally spoke. "All of that planning, the goblin's head, the candles, the certain arrangement to have this all done under Imperial watch, yet I've been given back my most prized possession from those days."

"Indeed I did give it back. Like I said, you deserve to have it back, for all your former years of service. And believe me, when I get done with you, that book full of trivialities will be all you'll have left."

Jayne did not answer. Months of training from her Morrowind abduction days were again crossing her mind.

"But I did not come to talk to you about your book. Oh no. I have other reasons for my visit."

"It was you, Draynas. Was it not? YOU are the one who's got me thrown into this jail."

"Yes, it was me who planned your capture all along. But that's not all. Oh no," he said, wringing his hands. "I have some rather unpleasant news for you, Jayne. Think back to that night long ago, when you'd so pompously arranged to have all those creatures imported into our fair city. Then you were off, drinking in The Feed Bag to your heart's content, eh?"

Jayne said nothing. Months of incidental training. Her face, she tried to keep neutral.

"And then in the morning," the Bosmer continued, "you blamed yourself once you'd learned about your rioting goblins, rushing all about the street that night before. But it was not your fault, Jayne. It was not your fault that they managed to escape their captivity. Oh no."

"What are ya saying?"

"It was I who had the key! ... Yes. And it was I who snuck to that room where those abominable creatures had been stayed for the night!" Igntiq was smirking now. "I let them out. I freed them, then stepped aside while they left their quarters, then ultimately swarmed into the city at night, straight to their very dooms!"

"You bastard. You fetcher."

"All these years you've blamed yourself. Meanwhile, once the mayhem was done, I finally had my chance to get rid of Jayne Goodfall once and for all. No more threat of seeing your success dwindle my chances for promotion. No more of your nagging voice, dragging upon my ears. You were supposed to fall for my ruse. You were supposed to NOT avoid capture, then find yourself right here, arrested and imprisoned. And for a much longer time.

"Little did I know you'd somehow avoid capture," he continued angrily. "Well, it was not my concern at the time. I figured you had died somewhere on the road. We all did." He smiled. "But now, here you are. Here you are."

Jayne glared. She then spoke, fighting to keep her voice sure and steady. "Time shall come, Draynas. You shall NOT get away with this. You shall not." As she said this however, she found herself unable to believe her own words.

"Oh but I will. I already have. You do not know who I am, apparently, and whom I have become, Jayne. I have influence now, you see. I am ingrained within the city's political system nowadays, although I am not any sort of politician myself. Upon your release, you shall see just what sort of power I now wield. You have no idea. None at all. And you shall see."

Jayne continued to glare. But her head swooned with sickness.

The elf in tight pants and grandiloquent perfume spoke one final time. "Upon your release, I predict you won't last within the city for more than a day, once you learn of what I have done. The dismantlement of your research team, and everything which has then commenced, will be the least of your worries. You shall see."

Draynas "Ignityiq" Pertrucio then stalked off. The next day her sentence ended, and Jayne Goodfall was to quickly learn that every word the elf had told her was true.

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

The Fetcher delivers

Jayne's research tome

My old office, the 'virtual broom closet...'

STOP RIGHT THERE

She's in trouble now

Incarceration

An academic's office being a broom closet is nothing surprising. Back when I was in college my office's of my profs were about that.

It's the head of Jason Voorhees' mother! Or not...

Jayne is going to the slam! Wonder if she will run into Khareem there this time?

So the Igniter was behind Jayne's downfall all along. The Fetcher!

Shouldn't that be In Search Of Research?

Fvck, that's great! I mean the story, not what happened to Jayne.

I expected it'll be a trap of sorts, but seeing a decapitated head of a goblin and knowing how Jayne respects them, is a really vile act.

I really felt sorry for Jayne as she found out what the Wood Elf had done. And who knows more he has in store.

Oh but I bet that Jayne's revenge will be sweet. Maybe not anytime soon but Ignytiq must pay!

Maybe Kahreem will help her out.

P.S.
The link to the second pic doesn't work.

Oh, my heart breaks for poor Jayne! Betrayed after trusting her ‘colleague’.

Ignito sure seems to harbor a lot of venom for one so small. I hope his horrible plans fall apart.

Perhaps Jayne can get away from the IC and go see her goblin pals again. They seem to accept her. And they do nice feet painting.

Great supportive pix but, like Lopov, the second one won't come up for me.

Hey everyone, I appreciate your attentions.

SubRosa: He really is a fetcher. S'wit is what they'd call him in Morrowind, I believe.

Yes, In Search of Research. That's better. I actually did struggle over the quest's title. Originally, this portion of the story was only supposed to be Jayne returning to the IC, then looking for her research book. That was it! All this other stuff with the fetcher, I did not see that coming.



Hah!

--------

Lopov: Wow, you think Jayne will get some sort of revenge!? Yikes.



You think so? Why do people keep mentioning that Redguard thief.

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

Acadian: Aww, yeah, this is a heart-breaker tale, for sure. I knew it would be.

Yes, maybe she should revisit her goblin friends. Some of the very first words in this story are "Thinks upon her feet, thinks upon her toes, laughed by all of her friends, respected by foes." These words were part of a song written by a long-ago singer I knew from my twentysomething years. And they make a lot of sense now, eh?

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

Treydog: The dog is missing out.

One come a day the water will run,
No man will stand for the things that he has done
... Hurrah!
... And the water will run





High above the ground, Jayne Goodfall stood at the very edge of the bridge, fidgeting softly in contemplation. The knuckles of her hands were white as kept she her balance. Her face was strained and pensive, but not overly emotional. Whole decades of her life had been spent toward quiet study and attempts at deduction (rather than brash, decisive outbursts) and she maintained these habits now. Standing high above the ground, the Imperial City's former head researcher still managed to continue detached observation. It was as if she was seeing herself in this very moment, viewed through the eyes of a distant, casual observer.

She looked up at the sky, and down at the valley. A lone dog was walking far below. Three or four seconds of time in mid-air, that's about all it would take.

She'd had an agonizing day, certainly the second-worst day of her life. Sure, being forced out of the city by swordpoint, and then riding that stolen horse across a land full of demons had been horrible as well, but at least the guard who'd tried to arrest her had merely been doing his job. At least the Daedra she'd encountered hadn't been specifically targeting her as she galloped by. By contrast, the people of the Imperial City who'd read the Black Horse Courier on Heartfire 7, Year 4 had specifically directed their jeers and their insults.




She'd been released from jail early that morning. A stay of three days, as promised. Her precious research tome and her goblin-calming totem had both been returned. Amazingly, she'd also been given back the remaining gold (all 28 pieces of it) which had originally been gifted by Ignytiq.

But the robe and hood she'd been wearing at the time of her arrest (the supposed disguise she'd been suggested as she trespassed within White Gold Tower) these were not allowed, of course. Since she'd discarded the original clothes she'd been wearing three days prior, this meant she had no choice but to continue in the grungy jail outfit she'd been assigned.

She was weak. Jayne's head pounded and her breath wheezed, as she tried to move nonchalantly back toward the Market District. She'd been hoping to make her way to Jensine's shop so she could find something else to wear. After donning something new, her next plan would be a walk to one of the market's alchemy shops, where she hoped to procure something to remedy her sickness.

But as soon as she'd entered the district, the citizens were already there. Already staring. Already casting their judgments. And there were a lot of them. Debutantes and street-cleaners, noblemen and squires. They all came together to taunt and jab and poke.

"There she is!"

"What're ya gonna do this evenin', ma'am? Do ya fancy bringing all yer monsters into the city to kill more of us, eh?"

"You remind me of my homeland, during the BLIGHT!"

"I KNEW him! He was my friend! And your awful goblins KILLED him!"

A couple of them threw things: One bottle smashed right beside Jayne's sandaled feet, one stone caught her square on the shoulder. Any other day, the guards would have tried to stop this scene, but on Heartfire 7, Year 4.... it was as if they already knew what was to commence, and allowed it.

Jayne rushed and panicked. She'd somehow forced her way into "Jensine's Good as New," hoping to find at least a quick change of apparel. But Jensine also learned who Jayne was, and wanted nothing to do with her. "Oh, it's you! Get out of my shop Imperial dog, before I call the guards!" she'd warned. It was when Jayne asked if she could simply spend some coin for some clothes that she finally learned about the article.

"Guess you haven't seen your face in the Black Horse Courier? Here!" Jensine thrust Jayne a copy. "Hope you're satisfied."

Ignytiq. That bleeding rascal.


Oddly, Jensine did not ask Jayne to leave a second time. Maybe she saw the former researcher gawk in horror. Maybe she wanted to savor that moment: being the one who'd been able to inform the Goblin Lady of her scandalous new plight . Whatever the reason, Jensine allowed Jayne some time to read the article. Jayne herself couldn't have moved her feet right then anyway, even if she had tried.









"Ha. There you are. Phew! I'm glad to have found you, lady. What're ya up to, anyway?"

Startled from her thoughts, Jayne flinched at the sound of the man's voice. Whoever this man was, he had crept up quietly enough to where she was standing.

"Stupid question. I know you've had a rough day. The roughest, in fact. I've been living here in the city now for over five years, yet I've never seen a freed prisoner get treated as you were."

Jayne Goodfall shivered. Her body rigid. Focused on balance. The ground far below, with the stray dog still wandering about. She made no attempt to reply.

"I wish you would come down from that ledge, my friend. Will you please? I need to talk to you."

"Go away."

The man would not do so, however. After a moment, she heard a bit of shuffling. Without warning, the man was now standing next to her, causing Jayne a wee moment of fright. Both of them, high upon bridge's ledge. Jayne cautioned a glance out of the corner of her eye, yet could not see his face clearly.

"My name's Winston. And I have a proposal for you. Because you see, I know a lot about you. I know a lot about everyone who stays in that jail. I have to know. It's how I choose some fresh recruits for my .. ah... profession."

Jayne did not reply.

"Ah fokke. I just said all that wrong. Too forward, that's what my cohorts always say. 'Tone it down, Wilbur, otherwie you'll scare them off,'" the man said abruptely, making his voice an octave higher. "Now you're probably scared of me, huh?"

Jayne did not reply. But a moment or two later, the man cautiously touched her hand with his own. First a finger. Then two. Then three fingers. Surprise, and warmth. It felt good, this simple warmth. It felt good, this simple contact. She needed this warmth, she needed this contact.

The man, a Redguard, seemed to realize he'd made some sort of progress. Firmly, he grabbed Jayne's palm with his own. "Come on down from here, right? We'll both walk backwards as one. Yes?"

Jayne nodded slowly. "Yes." Finally took her attention away from the ground far below. Away from the stray dog. Realized her heart was hammering. Had it been doing so all along?

The two of them then stepped in reverse, off of the ledge, still holding hands. Jayne's heart hammering. She breathed out a sigh of relief, realizing how close she had been. "I thank you, ehm ... Wilbur. You.... I ... I ... I do not feel so well." She heaved and shivered. Looked to the cobblestones on the avenue below. Realized she was dizzy.

"Anytime friend, I'm right here."

Suddenly, Jayne looked at the Redguard quizzically. "Say, I thought you said your name is Winston. Ain't that what ya said, firstly? Yea. Yet then you say your name is Wilbur. So....Winston? ... Wilbur? .... Who exactly are ya, anyway?"

The Redguard glanced to the sky for a few seconds. Freed Jayne's hand so he could smack his own forehead.

"Ah, fokke," he finally replied.

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

Not what she needs to hear

Ignytiq forebodes (that jerk. I hate him!)

Release from Jail

Market Scene

Goblin Lady Returns!

Contemplation

Saved today

That fetcher, Iggy!

Poor Jayne, as she contemplates giving up and heading for that goblin cave in the sky.

I look at it this way. . . she has no friends at the moment and, whoever WilberWinston is, he's got to be a pillar of trustworthiness compared to Iggy.

I'm guessing he's recruiting for the TG but we shall see.

Fokke! That must be our Of Weet friend, that had just saved Jayne.

Poor Jayne, being shooed away from the Imperial City like that.

But I'm positive, that she'll return one day and repay that fetcher.

Oh no, the locals are out with their torches and pitchforks, waiting for poor Jayne. It looks like Ignitit went to the media right after his visit with her in the pokey. '

Uh oh, just when Jayne is at her lowest on that ledge, here comes Winston. He sounds a lot like those thieves who had kidnapped Jayne in Morrowind. I am afraid that things are going to continue to get bad for Jayne, before they can get better. Still, I do hope that one day she can return to take out her righteous vengeance upon the people of the Imperial City!

Oh yes, that's that I was going for, 'Rosa. I was trying for the medieval shunning thing, where they'd all come after her. Basically I had Jayne stand in the middle of the Market District. When somebody would come near, I'd use the Actor's Ball mod to make them point, or make some other gesture. Then I'd toggle their AI off with the console. All of this was time-consuming of course! I spent about a half-hour, and thought I pressed PrintScreen but that pic never showed up. The Crowd Scene pic I posted isn't as good.

Winston = Kahreem. Sorry about that. Kahreem never uses his real name with strangers. He often forgets which name he is using, though.

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

Do you think she'll repay that fetcher, Lopov?

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

Acadian: That is Kahreem (sorry I wasn't more clear) and yes, he's trying to recruit her. But yes, he's a pillar of trustworthiness compared to that blasted elf!

Well, this is it. The final Goblin Lady chapter starts now. Thanks to all for your attentions. It's been fun, stressful, but fun.

My sweet revenge
Will be yours
For the taking
It's in the making. baby
Aaaah!






Draynas "Ignytiq" Pertruchio spent the very last day of his life doing many of the things he usually did.

He rose from sleep roughly mid-morning. He powdered his face, and sprayed some cologne. He strolled from his illustriuos Arena District home, his tight pants going *scrawtch scrawtch* and his hundred-Septim shoes going *clop clop*. He bet on an arena match, lost 25 gold, and argued (once again) with Hundolin, the place's gate-keeper. All the Arena's fights were "fixed," he complained. Finally, he ate at Merchants Inn, all the while whining about the price of clothes and alchemy potions, which had risen so much over the course of four years.

After this, he was off to White Gold Tower, where he spent the next six hours at "work." Though he had claimed to be some sort of major political innard to his former supervisor, nothing could be further from the truth. He had said these things merely to intimidate her. But she wouldn't know of this. She would never know! ... Draynas "Ignytiq" Pertruchio had already received confirmation that his former supervisor had left the Imperial City in shame. Thanks to the Black Horse Courier, the entire city now knew her face, the entire city now knew her supposed crimes. Chances are, she'd never be back.

Draynas "Ignytiq" Pertruchio finished his day with a nip of Cyrodiilic brandy, congratulating himself for being one smart little cookie.



Jayne "Goblin Lady" Goodfall spent the first real day of her new life doing none of the things she would ever have expected.

The strange Redguard who couldn't keep his name straight had been able to help her get back to good health. He escorted her to the Waterfront District, gave her some new clothes, gave her the key to the Marie Elena ("It's a galleon!") and told her she could stay as long as she'd like. He explained that the ship was his, but that he actually spent much more time in some secret, nearby location. Finally, he gave her some mandrake. Much needed, to cure her ailing, aching body.

But ... all of these things were to be hers IF she eventually joined his, ah, 'organization.' "We could use somebody like you," he told her. "I have read all about your past in that Courier article milady. You are some sort of goblin expert, or something, huh?" Winston ... Wilbur ... whatever his name was, said this while his eyes went wild with possibility. "So, does this mean you can actually talk to them?"

"Well, yes I can," Jayne answered with a tinge of concern.

"Oh yes, we can certainly use somebody with your, ah, skills."

It was when he finally revealed which 'organization' he was part of that Jayne firmly had to reply negatively. "Thieves Guild, eh?" There was no way she could see herself getting involved with any more criminals, even if the setting the Redguard promised was not to be forced upon her. After all those months in Morrowind, living as an unlawful vagabond was the last thing she wanted here in Cyrodiil.

Thankfully, the Redguard who could not keep his name straight seemed not to know of this other past of hers. "I accept your denial," he told Jayne, "but the door is always open. I want you to know this. The door is always open for you. You've got ... special skills."

She could still stay in the Marie Elena as long as she wanted, he explained. "There's plenty of room!" But Jayne Goodfall knew better.

After a day of rest (hidden safely within the Redguard's galleon) Jayne Goodfall decided she'd return to Fort Urasek. She was unsure of where else she could possibly go on Heartfire 8, Year 4 of the Fourth Era. Thanks to the goblins' acceptance back at Cracked Wood Cave, news traveled fast amongst the region's creatures. Because of this, the goblins of Urasek had already welcomed her several days before she'd arrived in the city.



Later that evening

Once she was back at Urasek, she finally wailed. Cried uncontrollably, as green-skins gathered all around. After all she'd been through, Jayne's emotions finally burst. Though goblins did not have the capacity to cry, they certainly understood that water seeping from one's eyes meant things were not going so well.

"Chachoowel tschoo," Urasek's shaman asked. (Problem, you?)

Jayne Goodfall explained that yes, she certainly did have a problem. Then she told them all about it.




It was in the dead of night, Heartfire 8, that Ignytiq the elf was jostled from sleep. For all his years, he'd been a bachelor. He'd had no children. And his maid? He'd fired her weeks ago. Because of all these facts, Ignytiq the elf immediately knew something was wrong as he got out of bed.

"Oh, it's YOU. What are YOU doing here, Jayne Goodfall? How did you get in?"

"Through the Imperial City Sewer System," the former researcher said with a candid grin. "Did you know that many homes right here in the city can be accessed straight to it? Not all homes, but some. The sewers were designed this way in case of attack, ironically. The idea being that if one's home were knowingly invaded, he or she could safely sneak into the cellar, unlock a trap door there, and be gone."

Ignytiq glared. "What are you saying, wench?"

"However, one unforseen sort of twist, unforseen by the city's creators, that is," Jayne continued. "Nobody could imagine that soon, the sewers themselves would become inhabited. Sure, their entrances were locked, but locks can be picked. Little do most know of the riffraff and monsters lurking right below their feet."

"You have no right to be in here, Jayne Goodfall, NONE!" The elf's face was all scrunched up with anger. "Now GET OUT of here, before I call the guards!"

"There have no need, Draynas," Jayne said sadly. "I really do wish things hadn't come to this. If only you could see, Draynas."

"Don't call me that, wench! I am Ignytiq!"

"'Tis no matter, Draynas. I shall take my leave now. And my advice. Do not follow me. Allow me to leave. Do not call the guards."

The elf was fuming, but took a moment of perspective. "Hmm. Probably one of your crafty new friends down on the Waterfront let you in." He smiled. "Oh yes, I know all about your little trip down to the Waterfront. Probably cavorting with the Gray Fox himself. Believe me, I have eyes and ears where you'd least expect."

Jayne tried to keep her face blank. Said nothing.

"I also know quite a few spells," the elf continued, perhaps trying to intimidate. "Spells which can get me out of trouble, just in case your snivelling lockpicker happens to wish to challenge me!"

"Stay here, Ignytiq," Jayne tried, her voice calm. "I shall go in peace, never to return to the Imperial City. I just wanted to see yer face, before I leave."

"We'll see about that! No. Now it's back to the prisons for you! I could incinerate you right here and now with my spells, but I'd rather see you suffer."

Jayne turned to go. Ignytiq followed. Down the stairs they went, into the parlor of his manor. It was here that Draynas "Ignytiq" Pertruchio met his demise. Twenty-six seconds, that's all it took for the multitude of goblins waiting for him down there, all of them recruited from Fort Urasek. The elf cried for mercy, great lumps being hacked by the green-skinned creatures. Little was he to know that Heartfire 8, Year 4 of the Fourth Era would be the last day he'd have the pleasure of powdering his face, spraying his cologne, or hearing his tight pants go *scrawtch scrawtch* as he strode around the city.

Jayne Goodfall made sure to keep a wide berth from the goblins as they tore him apart. Her friends could be unpredictable when angry, after all.



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

Doomed to fall into one of Kahreem's warm beds

Sobbing

Ignytiq's Demise (Video)

A fitting end for the fetcher.

Faced with the wrath of goblins, he stood no chance.

Nice video, must have last a while to make it all work, right?

Although Jayne didn't join the TG (I didn't expect her to), Kahreem nonetheless played an important role in her life.

It sounds like Ignitit's hundred septim shoes would be handy for a Monty Python knight to wear.

Don't tell me the Arena is just as fixed as professional wrestling!

I love the juxtaposition of how they either do exactly what was normal for them, vs. what was completely different.

She's living on the galleon! Now I realize that the mysterious Redguard is none other than the infamous Wheet Bandit!

At least Jayne is back among her green friends. Thank goodness there is at least someone in the world on her side. I can kind of see where this is going however...

I love that she used the sewers to get into the city, and Ignitit's house. That was perfect, given how many goblins live down in the sewers.

He got served a big heaping sandwich of Goblin Justice!

I love the sounds the goblins make in the dark!

- - The same thought struck me while reading it.

It was fun to see Jayne get some help from Wilbur - the artist thief formerly known as Prince The Weet Bandit.

I had hoped Jayne would return to her goblin pals. As soon as she told the shamen her problems, I figured they'd help. And by Julianos' Little Teapot, help they did! Iggy's now just bowlful of tasty elf snacks.


A wonderful story, Renee. Well done, and thanks for sharing it with us.