Posh Lady’s got stones, I’d say, trekking out into the snow to hunt Skooma Shrew – then diving into a wolf with her dagger. One can hope that ‘sharing combat’ in taking down that wolf might ease the animus. If they actually get to the campfire, that’d be even better. Maybe.

Looks like Sirdasa's running out. No surprise there.

The classic RPG rat problem raises its furry head again. Wonder if Laprima will be tasked with solving it...

Not sure if the Winking Skeever's proprietor will be happy with Laprima not showing up two days in a row. But if she goes onto alchemy, it may not matter that much. Alchemy will open more doors than serving, that's for sure.

Okay, looks like her boss isn't too upset. And now she has some useful info about Sirdasa.

Thirteen days. That's quite a busy few weeks for Laprima, but I suppose that can happen when you move someplace new.

And this excursion's a good reminder for what a tough place Skyrim can be. It's a long way from the more settled lands of Cyrodiil. Good descriptions of the grim northern woods, too.

Huh, this is interesting. Sirdasa's in a confrontation. This might give Laprima more options...

Ah, Laprima's jumped in to help her rival. Now we'll see if this eases things, or if Sirdasa's still going to make life difficult. Sadly, I suspect the latter.

Believable that Laprima would have some difficulty voicing those words. It's easy to say those things in a safe environment, quite another to actually use them in a confrontation.

Uh oh, Laprima's committed herself. Not a good idea to take out a weapon unless you're absolutely sure you're willing to use it and know how. Sirdasa senses Laprima's uncertainty, too. This is bad.

Oof, and now Laprima's getting hit with how cold this place actually is. Supposedly, one of the best ways to get people can be to ask them for help. If they help, they feel more invested in you (or something like that). Wonder if that'll work with Sirdasa letting Laprima use her camp. Interesting development.

I wonder is the Donna thinking of setting up Sirdasa as a mole to get the goods on a certain someone named Chamany.

Hello everyone. There are several things I messed up in that last chapter. Firstly, I somehow got the date wrong! The last chapter claims Fredas the Fifth, but in pictures clearly we can see it was Loredas the Sixth. There's a lot of parts moving in these last few chapters: some of them visible, some of them behind the scenes, the date thing is actually pretty minor. Still.

There was also an entire part of the story which got lost, as I edited in the wolf scene last week. Sybille the wizard was supposed to tell Laprima she'd be 'watching over her' as Lap met Sird in the woods. So when ‘prima seems to be wondering about the palace’s court wizard all the sudden, that is why.

In fact, pay attention to that wizard.

Finally, I should recount an experience I had when I was a child. It was winter. After school one day, a pack of my friends went to someone's house or something. I had no way of getting home, and both my parents were working at that point. Some other kid gave me a ride on the back of his bike. By the time I got home my fingers were freezing, this was serious frostbite, and I mean, it actually hurt. 🌨


"Laprima has a rat problem alright, a two-legged rat problem..."

Heh heee ha, you got that right!

That is very true, about the NPCs saying funny things to critters or monsters which cannot understand these words. My fave was in Oblivion, when Imperial Legions say, "FORRRR THE EMPIRE!" .... while cutting down a mudcrab. 🦀 As if that ONE crab portends the downfall of the entire Septim dynasty.


"Posh Lady’s got stones, I’d say, trekking out into the snow to hunt Skooma Shrew – then diving into a wolf with her dagger."

The wolf thing was interesting. As stated, that was not planned. As I am gaming, I have to take into account the feelings and thoughts I receive from whomever I am with at the time. From my perspective they are not just pixels & polygons on my TV screen, they are also essences of energy. I'm sure you and Buff have a similar relationship, except you've got 2-way communication with her, whereas for me I can only receive. Anyway, the fact that Laprima immediately chose to help Sird with the wolf highlights a bit of courage I did not know my gal has.

To illustrate further, I did have one story-character in the past (Sarah Phimm) who did not get involved with combat, or would only do if cornered. This factored into her story in real-time, even though it would've been more exciting for me if I just mashed some buttons, pwning AI and whatnot. Kahreem also avoided combat most of the time. He'd rather get on whatever horse he'd stolen, and ride away. 🐎


"t sure if the Winking Skeever's proprietor will be happy with Laprima not showing up two days in a row."

Ooh, that's another thing which got messed up. Not that 'prima's gonna get fired, but notice how Corpulus has nothing but good things to say about his former employee. YET, also notice how uneasy he gets when the subject comes up. I meant to expand on that, because the fact is he did have some problems with Sirdasa: cash missing from the till and so on.

OTOH, maybe it's good I didn't expand. That part (as it is) is pretty subtle.

Thirteen days is a mistake on my part. She got to Skyrim on the 24th, so it's been fourteen days! Oops.

Exactly. Easy to plan that this and that shall happen, but Laprima's no warrior, not a mage, and not the semi-rogue she'll probably become in future chapters. Not yet, anyway. First, she's gotta crank out her fears. But... again, the whole wolf thing. It's like I didn't even get the feeling my gal hesitated there in the slightest.

The fact that she's super-cold is partially due to the Frostfall mod (tolerance to the cold must be built over time), and partially my own experience (see above).


"I wonder is the Donna thinking of setting up Sirdasa as a mole to get the goods on a certain someone named Chamany."

'The Donna'. I like that!

There are quite some things happening behind the scenes (and in the Donna's head), as you've definitely intuited. Chammy will factor in here, for sure.

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________________

Princess Laprima

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Loredas, Sun's Dusk 6, late afternoon


"Do what now? ... You wanna sit by my fire because you cold?"

"Aye. I think that'd be best," Laprima chattered. "At present, it feels as though my fingers ... I cannot gain a sense of them all."

This was the moment when things could go very, very wrong, of course. Laprima knew this for certain, for she was making a request so unexpected, even she wasn’t sure where this spontaneous set of ideas was going.

And during this moment, it looked as though things would go very, very wrong. Sirdasa’s eyes flitted and danced about. Her brows narrowed suspiciously. Laprima could certainly take a guess as to why.

"You are concerned," the noble shivered. "How is it I know these things of you: your name, where you lived, some of your upbringing, where you lay your head now."

Sirdasa's face twisted and contorted, like the pointed snout of the wolf they'd just killed.

"Yea, how’d you know all that?” she asked stiffly. “Well, I reckon ya coulda gotten my name on account as you been workin’ over at the Skeever.” She rubbed her chin. “But how is it you know about me livin’ up at Fort Hraggstad and all that other stuff? Huh? Who ya been talkin’ to?”

The Woods Woman glared, perhaps wondering if one of the lowlife wretches she’d been associating with lately somehow relayed personal information to the princess shivering before her. – Meanwhile, Laprima struggled to fathom an answer. Should this answer be truthful, revealing the fact that Sybille Stentor told her these things? Or should Laprima concoct some sort of story which (no doubt) would stretch into one heck of a lie, as imaginary details unfolded.

Luckily for her, she did not have to come up with an answer at all.

“Well, here's what I reckon," Sirdasa spoke, a sudden gleam in her eye. "We both gots something the other wants, mmm? You wants to come an' gather yerself before my fire before you fixin’ to freeze to death, and I ... well you know what I want."

“Fine.” The woman wants her skooma. "And I can assist, Sirdasa. Although not here. I sha’n’t hand any coin out here, not as I’m losing feelings within my fingers. … Might we please go!?"

The wild woman considered further. "Well… you did also just help me take down this animal, here,” she added. The gleam in her eye was joined by a smirk across the lower half of her face.

Sirdasa set off into the woods; apparently this was her way of invitation. Just before Laprima followed she gave a quick look around. Peered into the trees, where she thought she saw a quick flicker of something just to the right.

"Sybille?" she called.

But nobody was there. Just a wisp of snow, blowing in the wind.





… Years later, an older, wiser Laprima Donnaugh, set into a comfortable middle age, would gaze back upon this particular portion of her life and wonder why she’d chosen to prolong her meeting with Sirdasa Noskal. Why hadn’t she simply handed some coin to this lawless, chaotic user of skooma and returned to the Blue Palace, where she’d be safe forever? As always, she had enough money in her purse at the time to sufficiently placate the addict.

And the answer to this question, it was vague. Somehow, Laprima just knew. She knew and sensed what was to come.



Sirdasa moved through the woods, deftly pacing over fallen logs and dead foliage, confident with every step. Laprima trailed at a distance, much more tentatively, every other footfall causing obvious noise. Twigs snapped, the lower hem of the expensive black dress she’d bought at Radiant Raiment (the same dress aunt Elisif disapproved of) caught and tore a couple branches. In some areas the snow also deepened, causing her made-for-the-city boots to slip and stumble. This was not her territory!





Though it was still daytime, Laprima, once again, could not see Magnus’s position in the sky. But it seemed as though the afternoon had come to an end by now.

Off in the distance to their right, a series of men and women were milling about what looked to be an outdoor encampment. Sirdasa explained these were Stormcloaks: rebel soldiers who called themselves 'Sons and Daughters of Skyrim'. They’d shown up here recently, perhaps to stage some sort of eventual front against Solitude.

"They don't pay me no mind, 'less they wanta buy a slab of meat. 'Cause I been huntin' and fishin' in these parts for years,” Woods Woman said quietly, as though fearing someone might hear her state this revelation aloud. “Ain't like my poachin's hurting anybody. Jarl Elisif and your precious Blue Palace entourage can hardly eat every slab of venison, now, can they?"

Laprima stumbled, teeth gnashing. "Ehm, how much farther have we to go?"

It didn't take much longer. Within a minute, Laprima heard the sound of rushing water. True to Sybille's word, Sirdasa Noskal was living right beside the river.






Her camp consisted of a small tent made of animal hides, supported by twine and deadfall. Under the tent, a furry bedroll to lie within. There were several sacks made of burlap here, a couple of ceramic pots and metal implements there. A cooking stand made for roasting, and a small boat for travelling.

But what interested Laprima most of all at this moment was the fire.

"Gracious. Many thanks, Sirdasa."

Wood had been gathered and torched at some point, arranged into a rock-lined pit measuring a couple meters in diameter. Despite Sirdasa's absence over the past couple hours or so, the blaze was still going. Laprima wasted no time. Rushed right over to warm her hands and body. Immediately, she could feel what seemed to be ice in her fingers thawing away.

But she also watched Sirdasa carefully. Now that she was here, she was unsure how long she should stay. Because obviously, the plan she’d made with the wizard was not going to happen. Sirdasa was right; if the two of them had gotten into a knife-fight there’d be no way the noblewoman could win. Sirdasa handled her weapon like she’d been born holding it.

But there was also something else going on, which caused Laprima to second-guess her host. Sirdasa Noskal seemed to have ‘dropped the act’, as the saying goes. All her bluster, all the meanness she’d displayed in town was now gone. On some level, Laprima knew it would happen this way. Now that Sirdasa had a guest to attend to in what was essentially her home, she became a somewhat different person. Cordial, even. Still pretty rough around the edges, of course. But not nearly the snarling, menacing beast she'd portrayed in town.

“You hungry? Well, I certainly am.”

Laprima blinked. Now Sirdasa was holding her blade.

“Gonna get us supper. Problem is, my net’s broke, which means I ain’t got no way to catch anything as easy. So… be right back.”

To Laprima’s astonishment, Sirdasa took a deep breath, and leapt into the river. Dove right in, causing a splash of near-zero water! Laprima could see the Nord swimming against the current; treading under water which must be just as frigid as a witch’s teat. - How can she stand such frosty water? - After thirty seconds or so, Sirdasa returned to shore. Indeed, she had somehow managed to catch a fish half as long as her arm, and with her bare hands.

“Looks like we gonna have some trout for supper,” she said while water dripped from her hair and furs. “Want some, wench?”

Laprima nodded. The sky was getting dark. Didn't look like she'd be going anywhere, anytime soon.

Sirdasa began gutting the fish with her blade, slicing its scales this way and that. She chopped the trout into pieces with an axe. Threw a metal pan onto the fire and began frying their dinner.

The noble found herself fascinated with this entire process. “Everything you need for sustenance, it’s right here,” she said aloud. By now, Laprima had thoroughly regained feeling in her fingers. Her boots were also off, drying by the fire.

“Aye. This ain’t your pretty blue palace,” the hunter agreed. “Gotta do it right if ya wanta survive out here, wench.”

“Wench. Wench!” Laprima shook her head, displeased. “Might we let go of the unpleasantries, Sirdasa?”

“Do what, now?”

“The unpleasant things you constantly say. The name-calling. You are always calling me names!” Laprima smashed a palm into the sand, unable to hide the anger within her voice. “Well perhaps it is because we’ve never been formally introduced. My name’s Laprima, by the way. Not wench. Not girlie. Not harlot. I am Laprima Donnaugh.”

“Laprima Do-what?" Sirdasa scowled. "Well what kind of a–”

“Just… Laprima. La-pri-ma,” the Heartlander enunciated slowly. “Might you find fit to just refer to me as such?”

“Hmph. Laprima. Sounds like a name for a royal,” Sirdasa spat. “How ‘bout I just call you princess, instead? Yeah, think I’ll just call you: Princess Laprima….”

“Fine, Sirdasa. Although I’ll never be royalty, just so you know, there’s a process which must be entertained for one to become royal. And I shall perhaps never attain such position. Especially not, if Chamany and I are to wed.”

“What-ever you say, Princess.”

Dinner was served. As the lady and the hunter ate, Laprima’s fascination with Sirdasa’s simplistic lifestyle continued. Such an opposite way to live. In Laprima's world, everything was done for you. Food was always prepared, bed linens changed at least twice a week, floors got swept, magical music got played from devices unseen, and so on. But out here, Sirdasa’s entire existence was organized by just one person: Sirdasa Noskal, herself. It was something Lady Donnaugh could not entirely wrap her head around. The woman before her was crude and selfish, yes. But she was also like a character Laprima might've read about in an adventure novel during youth. A character who lived off the land, doing things her way to the utmost.

By now, it was definitely getting late; too late (and too dark) to safely find her way through the woods and back to Solitude. Laprima argued a bit with Sirdasa, tried to convince the woman not to give in to her addiction. But eventually she handed over some coin, because this was part of the half-spoken agreement between them. Laprima had been freezing half-to-death, and begged Sirdasa for help. Now it was time to pay her end of the bargain.

“Well, you ain’t goin’ nowheres," Sirdasa said, taking Laprima's money. "Do me a favor, eh? Stay here at camp while I go off for a bit. Ain’t nothing’s gonna bother you out here, no critters, that is. Be back soon, I promise.”

Coin in hand, Sirdasa Noskal rushed up the beach, leaving Laprima alone. Fortunately, she wasn’t gone for too long.

When she came back she immediately uncorked one of the phials she’d bought.

"Want some?"

Laprima Donnaugh shook her head: No. Absolutely not.

So Sirdasa smiled. Palmed the pink phial, then quaffed it down all at once, just as Laprima and Chamany had done two weeks ago. “Ahhhh! ... Ohhh lalaa!!!” … The addict plopped herself down on the shore. Began sighing and rolling about. Laughed at the moons, like some sort of primitive. Laprima sat cautiously; now getting a full view of what happens when a user of this new skooma gets taken under its influence. Sirdasa, dancing a bit in front of her fire, wavering drunkenly on her feet. Speaking in tongues. At one point, she contorted her face into an odd shape and began sobbing, even.

Laprima oversaw the entire process with detached curiosity. She was getting tired by now but forced herself to stay awake, watching over the loon, making sure their campfire stayed lit. Still, after an hour or so, she couldn’t help but fall asleep right on the sand. Sirdasa herself had passed out, after all; as the drug’s initial effects changed from inspirational and flashy, to somnolent.





The night wore on. Somehow, the posh lady from the palace was able to spend most of her time asleep. Next thing she knew it was daylight again. Daylight, and cold. For her company was too frazzled by the brew to continue maintaining the campfire’s blaze throughout the night.

As Laprima tended to the fire (learning how such things are done, in fact) she couldn’t help but take notice of Sirdasa’s condition, even as she was itching to get away from the skooma-user, and return to her usual, comfortable existence.

“Sirdasa, you really have taken ill. I cannot help but feel concern about your state of being as of now.”

“Ah, ‘tis nothing, princess. I shall be alright. Always am.” Woods Woman moaned, her body basking before the fire’s returning warmth. For a moment, Laprima could see a bit of surprise within her host’s eyes. As if she’d forgotten somebody else was there.

Laprima by now had had enough of this. She was ready to go. She could see herself away from this malaise, following the tracks they’d made in snow the day before, perhaps. To make the desire to leave even more pertinent, Sirdasa the addict looked as though she couldn’t do anything about this. At the moment, she appeared to be too weak to even stand up.

Still, Laprima, conscious of what it must be like, ailing all alone out here with a skooma hangover, couldn’t help but try dispensing some advice before she left.

“You know, there are ways to…counteract the effects you are suffering,” she began. “Chamany told me: chewing flowers of alkanet is one method of doing so. Do you know of these blooms?" she asked. "Not sure if alkanet grows here in Skyrim. But surely, there must be some other leaves or flowers you can try.”

“Ah, you speak of the elixir…” Sirdasa murmured.

“Ehm. Elixir?”

“Aye,” Sirdasa nodded. Tried to raise her head from the sand so she could get a better look at Laprima while she spoke, and was unsuccessful at this. “Was supposed to be some elixir for this…”

Sirdasa's voice droned off. Laprima waited patiently for the woman before her to continue. For it seemed as though she had something else to say.

“The alchemist …" she finally regrouped. "One of Chammy’s clan … he was workin’ on it. B’cause they knew this skooma’s good. ... Best they’d ever seen. But also bad. Bad, in a way that it makes us suckers sick. So they was workin’ on that elixir, to solve what comes after… But he couldn’t get it all mixed up, or some such. So, one of them went to Angeline, the potions lady. Wanted to know if she could, ya know, if she could help get it all mixed up proper-like. Brought his mixture right to her.”

“One of Chamany’s clan went to Angeline?” Laprima asked, already seeing where this was possibly going.

“Aye. And when that witch of a alchemist heard what they was wanting the elixir fer, she immediately called the guards!” Sirdasa hacked. “B’cause skooma’s illegal, don’cha know? Angeline, she took the elixir away, right then and there. Not knowing. B’cause this brew, it’s got a kick, alright. Ain’t nothing like it before, nor since…”

“Hmph. So I see.”

Where, oh where are you, dear Chamany Lacroix? … For now, there are even more questions which require a series of answers.

“Stay right here," Laprima said, ignoring the better judgement which screamed Just go! within her head. "Perhaps I can return sometime later to make an assistance.”



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

Sirdasa's proposition

Battling a lynx

Warmed by the Fire

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

Notes: the moment when Laprima made her proposal, when Sirdasa says "Here's what I reckon..." was another Speechcraft moment. If Laprima failed this would've caused the Wild Woman to attack, instead of taking 'prima to the campsite.
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I notice you are getting the Gray Face bug with your NPCs. You can fix this with the following:

1.) Create a new NPC

2.) Edit the necessary sections of the face. If there are additional textures installed in actors/character, NPC customization will result into a two toned NPC, move all the extra textures into a back up folder.

3.) Click "Okay" on the character window closing it, Highlight your new NPC in the actors list and press CTRL + F4 to export FacegenData.

4.) Save plugin.

5.) You can confirm success by checking Meshes/Actors/Characters/FaceGenData/FaceGeom/<mod name> folder &Textures/Actors/Characters/FaceGenData/FaceTint/<mod name> folder. If it is simply a change to a vanilla NPC, it will be in the .../FaceGeom/Skyrim.esm subfolder. The file will be a .nif with the same name as the base id in the construction set.

Cool, thanks. I'll try that.

There's always a lot to keep track of in writing. Anyone who does it knows what it is to forget a detail or two. Lord knows I've done that plenty.

Scary story about the frostbite. It doesn't snow where I live, but I know frostbite is not something you want to mess around with.

And yeah, sounds like Corpulus tries be optimistic about people, but that's hard to do when cash keeps disappearing.

I can see how your personal experience with frostbite is shaping the story here. Laprima wants to warm her fingers, of course. Still curious as to how this will turn out.

Hm, still not sure I trust Sirdasa. But Laprima needs to get shelter of some kind and fast, so I suppose she doesn't have much choice.

Interesting Stormcloak cameo here. Makes sense that Sirdasa doesn't much care about politics, though. The less anyone interferes, the better (which I suppose means the Stormcloaks are safer for her, at least for the time-being).

I'm also a little surprised that Laprima doesn't seem to be aware of the rebellion. I suppose it's not something they care to talk about at court, and she's not really involved in politics. This does give her some pretty useful information for Elisif, should she choose to offer it.

And so it happens: by helping Laprima, Sirdasa now feels invested in her.

Whoa, Sirdasa's hardcore! She could fit into one of those polar bear plunge groups.

Addict though she is, Sirdasa's still aware enough to be a pretty effective survivalist. I can definitely see how this would appeal to Laprima, given how she's been pushing against the constraints of court life. Skyrim's a rough place (as is most of Tamriel), and having these skills can be helpful.

Laprima's knowledge of alchemy could also be pretty helpful for Sirdasa, assuming Sirdasa utilizes it. But an addict needs to be the one to make the decision to change, and that's an uphill battle.

Also, we see here one of the big downsides about blanket criminalization of drugs. It's much harder for someone to get clean if they can't get help.

I really liked the way you took this story. I'd anticipated a showdown between Laprima and Sirdasa, but this is far more interesting. Troublesome as Sirdasa is, she also has a lot to offer Laprima. That she's neither full ally nor enemy makes this feel quite realistic.

Very nicely done how you showed us the gradual thawing of animus between these two. Sirdrasa and the Princess does have a certain ring to it.

Sirdrasa would make a Bosmer proud with her command of woodscraft. And she could make a Nord jealous with her ability to withstand the cold. If only she could kick the skooma thing. . . .

Looks like Princess is going to work some alchemy to see if she can help her newfound not quite friend.

Not sure where this is going but anxious to find out!

I'm replying a bit early, just because of a few things I'm insecure about. I dunno, maybe if I type these things publicly I'll be able to gain some perspective.

I know Sirdasa's obnoxious, and that maybe the simple story outcome would be Laprima just killing her. This is how it was originally going to happen.

But I wanted to try a few new things, and so I opened my mind. After playing my first Bioware game (Mass Effect) these last couple months, I've really been attracted to the idea of choices: two true paths the story could take. This is something I've never done before in other tales. Goblin Lady, Sarah Phimm's story, Miss Vicious, and so on... all of those had hand-written quests, but there was only one outcome.

So I wanted to try something new. In LaprimasWorld.esp there are two choices during this Skooma Addict quest. If one choice was made, the outcome would be what we'd all expect: Sirdasa and Laprima get into a brawl, Laprima wins, and so on.

But.... the other choice got made, and it was actually made by Sirdasa herself (sort of), via an unseen dice-roll by using Skyrim's Persuasion system during the quest. I'm glad it happened this way, just because it's something new (for me). From a writer's perspective, following this second path is more of a challenge.

Anyway, there are probably two more chapters left. And there are a couple more random things which can occur, meaning that even I don't know which final outcome will take place.

Hope this helps!

Ahh, the Lady Donnagh is going to confuse Sirdasa by talking to her. That's probably the last thing the Sird was expecting. I must say, it is rather refreshing to read a story in which the protagonist does not just smite the evildoers like Sirdasa out of hand. I am curious to see where this is going.

It looks like Princess Laprima is having quite the adventure, in that she is having a taste of what life is like for ordinary people. Less than ordinary people. This is actually roughing it.

The Elixir? Now this is interesting. Is that what Laprima stole from the alchemist? Ah ha! It is. We are getting to the bottom of things now.

Great story, Renee! I finally managed to catch up on everything. Now I know how you must have felt, when I kept posting my stories and you could only read them, when you had time, so there was always a new one, when you came to the forums.

The story took an unexpected turn and you really put a lot of details into the encounter with Sirdasa and even before, when she took her time to study alchemy. I wonder what's going to happen between the two, but I have a feeling, that Laprima is slightly faciated with Sirdasa.

Looks like, however, that the wildwoman unintentionally revealed her the true scope of Laprima's adventure at Angeline's...

Clavier-- Yes, there's a lot to keep track of, very true! I've forgotten way more than a "detail or two". More like two dozen at this point. There are also a lot of details I consider adding along the way, but then I try to be considerate of readers and don't want to make these too long. Also: the more details which get added, the more tangents I go on.

But for example there was going to be a whole part when Sirdasa teaches Prima a few things about Sneaking and surviving and so on.

Frostbite ... it really does feel like something is biting. It hurts. ❄

Yes, there's the fact that Laprima's cold, but Sybille also casted a long-term Courage spell on Laprima! This got mentioned 3 chapters ago, but maybe I didn't put as much emphasis on that part. The spell is very low-level. Laprima doesn't even know she's under the wizard's spell, in fact. Sybille was able to cast the spell without incantations or gestures.

But during this next chapter, she begins to suspect something is not right.

Ah: Concerning the rebellion. She's a sheltered girl! - By now (in my gameworld) the Civil War would be well under way. But it affects Laprima's life not at all, other than occasional news. She's got too much drama in her own life!



I was super-nervous about this actually! Wasn't sure how ppl would react.

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Acadian== Thanks, and yes, I didn't know how that was going to go.

Absolutely, Sirdasa's got some mad skillz. In table-gaming terms it'd be like: Bow, Cooking, Fishing, Knife, Sneak, Silent Movement, Thief, and her Cold Resistance is off the chart.

I think if she and Buffy ever met hopefully it would be in the days before Sirdasa became an addict. In her backstory for instance, she's always been a troublemaker, but at least she's got some skills Buffy could relate too. They'd probably admire each other from afar.

I, myself am actually not sure where it's going. 🕵 There are four possible outcomes the story can end with next weekend.

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SubRosa-- Exactly. Not a tale of black and white, what we have here is closer to slate-gray. I mean... it still could happen in a black + white way next week, we shall see.

And yes, that's another thing. I've been walking around a nearby park a lot lately, so I'be been getting all these inspiration and ideas about someone who lives off the land, and is in fact almost more of an animal than a person. 🐺 Laprima comes from an entirely different world.

NOW we know what Laprima stole, right? Surprise.

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Lopov-- How's your life, you've been quite busy! Well I'm glad you've been keeping up with the Donna's story. I've added at least a couple "Lopov" style pictures in your honor.

Glad you like it. I told you I'd be going "all out" with this one. Laprima finally ascended to Level 2 a couple weeks ago. Her upskills so far have consisted of Speech, Alchemy, Lockpicking, and a little bit of One-Handed.

Don't be a stranger, pard'ner!

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____________

..The Elixir

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Sundas, early morning, Sun’s Dusk 7


Laprima returned to Solitude, her stride full of purpose. The morning was cloudy and cold as her boots clicked over cobblestones and pavement. Her finely-tailored Radiant Raiment dress was a bit torn and disarrayed after its night of unkempt suffering in the wilderness. And this got quickly noticed by someone who may be quite familiar by now.

“If you’re headed toward the Blue Palace you might want to--”

“Go stuff yourself, Taarie,” Laprima muttered, leaving the Raiment’s highbrow assistant startled.








By the time she reached the palace it was nearing midday, sun beginning to shine. Sybille Stentor would be asleep; nearly comatose under sheets and blankets. And this was a good thing, because if the wizard had been up and about, Laprima would have no choice but to confront the woman as soon as she laid eyes upon her.

“One measure of concern,” Laprima pondered. “Seems as though I’ve been played for a fool. Like a puppet from a series of strings?”

Such an insight, indeed. Now that the meeting between Laprima and Sirdasa had concluded, a few questions were rising. Such as: it was now obvious to Laprima that Sybille Stentor had persuaded the noble straight into the proverbial lion’s den (so to speak); had she done so with any sort of nefarious intent? - Sybille had also promised to be present during the meeting between the palace’s newest member and the woman of the woods, hiding somewhere nearby just in case things should go wrong. Had this promise been empty? If Sybille had indeed witnessed the encounter, why hadn’t she at least given a sign of her presence?

Most of all, it now seemed peculiar that the seer had wanted Laprima Donnaugh, a cultured noble who had absolutely no experience with direct combat, to thenceforth attempt to eradicate an individual who did.

…But beyond all of these thoughts, there was something else Laprima was intuiting. Something murking about within her thoughts which she could not quite grasp.

“Something about that wizard.”

Had Laprima been guided into danger against her better judgment, of which said judgment had somehow been nudged aside?

“How had she put it? Sometimes there is justice. Sometimes there are just us.”

That was the maxim Sybille Stentor had used. Yet now that the meeting between was over, this set of words seemed almost coached. Almost too fabricated toward…. Something. That final word ‘us’ implied more than one individual, for instance. Yet Laprima, it seemed, had been out there on her own, to meet with someone who could’ve potentially killed her.

Or had she been?

She stepped up the palace’s staircase, and into its court. Blessedly, Elisif was engaged with a couple of visitors at the moment. Laprima nodded to her aunt and graced her with a curtsey, then continued into the conjoined rooms she and the court wizard shared.





“Ah. My dear sweetroll. You have arrived.”

Lady Donnaugh, now in her own quarters, came to a surprised and abrupt halt. “Chamany,” she said, surprised. Just the man she's looking for.

He was wearing an old noble's coat, burgundy in color. His hair was disheveled, and he had some sort of scarf wrapped around his forehead, covering his right eye. “Ah. 'Tis nothing, Laprima," he grinned, pointing at his head. "Just a little rough and tumble.”

"I can see this. Ehm. Are you here now though, now and present? Have we time to take a few moments to speak, dear?"

“Aye. I am done with my …eh… my travels, for now, dove," he said. "Such a pleasant sight, to see you again. Please, come to me.”

Her fiancé smelled of something spicy. Cardamom or petunias, perhaps. He held out his arms. Took a couple of steps toward her. But Laprima stood her ground. Brows knitted. Arms folded.

“That bottle you had me fil–,” she began, before correcting herself. “That bottle you had me fetch.”

“Aye. What of it?” His smile, full of placid Cyrodiilic sunshine, clouded a bit.

“What exactly did it contain? Was it … some sort of elixir?” she asked, brows raised. “Meant to cause a skooma-user’s after-use grievances to come to an end?”

Now this was unexpected. Upon hearing these questions, Chamany Lacroix’s face changed from ‘welcome home, dear’ to plainly suspicious. As though the matter of the substance stolen from Angeline’s Aromatics was not to be known to the lady supposedly destined to become his better half. He folded his arms.

“My love. How can… How is you know what the Angeline’s potion is… is for?”

Laprima Anne Donnaugh, sufferer of a condition which we call ‘bruxism’ within our realm, ground her teeth for the umpteenth time. She became angry, and not just at him. She was also angry at what seemed to be an entire establishment. An establishment designed to cause fiends of this particular new brand of skooma to eventually succumb to sickness, while those who perpetrate the substance’s addictive qualities reap their mad profits.

On the other hand, did it not seem as though the potion; the elixir which she’d been instructed to remove from Angeline’s shop; did it not seem this elixir’s very purpose was to supposedly alleviate the after-effects suffered by users of the drug? Had the very idea of this elixir been an attempt to right any number of wrongs?

She recalled the way Sirdasa laid upon her beach several hours ago. That vibrant, resourceful woman of the woods, reduced to a moaning wreck, barely able to get up from the sand. Laprima then recalled the dozens of crates and barrels she’d watched over, shipped into Skyrim upon The Mongrel two weeks ago, each container full of hundreds of this new variety of skooma. It seemed, therefore, that there could be hundreds (maybe thousands) of Sirdasas at this very moment, suffering across the land.

“It was not Angeline who concocted this potion,” Laprima corrected him. “I know of this. I have learned the elixir was mixed and arranged by your very own clan, for those who writhe the menaces of skooma.”

“Yes but--” Chamany was confused and surprised. He hadn’t expected his raven-haired sweetheart to become any potential kind of sleuth!

“For now, let us cast aside these concerns,” Laprima said, placing her hands upon his. “For it seems as though a set of wrongs has at least been attempted toward a set of rights. And I assume… I hope, actually, that you had me gather this so-called elixir because it’d been previously, improperly prepared, or some such, eh?”

Chamany nodded, slowly. “The … eh... elixir, I need for you to steal it, so could give to my clan associate. And now, he have mixed for better. As the elixir, now does it cure away from skooma.”

“I see.” Sirdasa had been right.

“But how is you know these things?” he asked. It was the very same question she’d annoyed Sybille the seer at least a dozen times!

“I shall explain. Let us firstly see if we can put some of this elixir toward its qualities of supposed remedy. I know of someone who's been downtrodden by this ..." her face scrunched, disapproving, "this ...skooma," she gnashed. "Have we any to spare? Might you find fit to give me some of this elixir so I can assist a woman in need?”

Laprima thought he might refuse this sudden request. To her relief, this was not so.

"Aye, I have one," he said without hesitation. "Who have ... who is sick?" He reached into a pocket and handed her a small glass phial full of clear liquid.

"We must go. Come with me, Chamany. I shall tell you as we walk..."

But, another surprise. For taking time to go visit whomever Laprima had witnessed suffering the drug's effects, this was not part of his plans for the day.

"Oh, no. I am afraid I cannot," he said. "I know of these things, the great sick our skooma calls," he added in a low voice. "But I cannot as be involve with everyone's suffer, as am afraid. You take to this person, if you like. Let me know if she gets her cure well."

To her astonishment he began walking away. "Chamany!" Left Laprima standing on her own.

"I shall be at tavern. Come to visit, when ready, eh?" He swiftly exited the room.


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

Auroras!

Chammy does the right thing...

... but also the wrong thing.

"I'll be at the tavern, dear."
.

! What is Chamany up to? Was I too quick to judge and jump to a wrong conclusion? Perhaps so but something still tugs at me not to trust Chamany.

Laprima's steaming during her cold walk back to the Blue Palace. Taarie gets a ‘Go stuff yourself,’ but at least Auntie Jarl gets a curtsy. Laprima raises interesting questions about Sybille. Had she been set up and unknowingly been sent out to commit suicide by Skooma Shrew?

And what of that scoundrel of a - Oh, there he is!

‘Sweetroll?!? Sweetroll my frostbit arse!'

‘Since you caught me red handed with my efforts to put a teaspoon of elixir on a raging skooma inferno, I shall deign to give you a bottle to help your friend. Go with you? Oblivion, do I look like an escort? I got skooma sales to make.’

Grrrr! At Chamany. Sirdrasa is looking more and more trustworthy compared to Chamany and Sybille.

“Go stuff yourself, Taarie,”
I practically cheered to hear that!

So Laprima is back, and is suspicious of everyone, perhaps with good reason. Chamany has certainly been lying to her and manipulating her. Sybille too? What is the world coming to when you can't trust a vampire wizard?

So Laprima is going to try to get Sirdrasa clean? I am not surprised that Chamany was not willing to go with her. He makes a habit of avoiding being seen, by anyone really. Instead he lurks in the background.

Yeah, sometimes I wish there was an online Wiki for my work so I could make a quick reference to catch all those details. But you seem to be doing pretty well, all things considered.

Sirdasa teaching Laprima how to sneak does sound useful.

Laprima seems a lot more confident. A walk on the wild side can do that (if you come through the other end).

Ha! Poor Taarie. But Laprima clearly has bigger things on her mind. Like exactly what Sybille was planning. These are good questions that Laprima is considering.



Love this description. Cyrodiil matches Chamany quite well; lovely on the outside, but darker the deeper you look.

Laprima's developing a stronger social conscience here. But I don't buy what Chamany's selling. Laprima might not have the whole story, but he's not being honest, either.

Time for comments and questions. This weekend's chapter will likely be the final story of 2023, unless I remember to include another update on her real-life birthday, October 29.

@macole: What is Chamany up to?

SubRosa guessed this one pretty good. Chammy's in the position of needing to protect himself from fallout. Real-life crime bosses here on Earth (mafia and such) often are household names, not just to cops and the FBI, Interpol and Scotland Yard, but to people like us. We read or watch the news long enough, we're going to learn about these bosses and their clans and families. Gotti, Genovese, Juárez, Menendez, and so on. These folks thrive on fame in a sense. In a lot of cases they enjoy seeing their names in the papers, knowing they're often insulated against capture.

Cham's in the opposite position. He hasn't got as much of a buffer, because all of this is happening really fast. It's a very real possibility that he could get caught somehow. Plenty enough ppl in Solitude know who he is and what he's done, for instance, and skooma's actually illegal in my gameworld (due to a mod, of course). 🍼

I am not going to go on a story tangent this weekend, but Laprima's intuition that there are "hundreds of Sirdasas suffering the after-effects of this new skooma" is accurate.

So Chammy wants to help Laprima, but on the other hand, he can't afford to be seen dealing with the day-to-days of every addict who's in trouble due to his product. And this is for Laprima's benefit, as well. If he gets caught, her name could definitely come up during questioning.

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

@Acadian: Laprima raises interesting questions about Sybille. Had she been set up and unknowingly been sent out to commit suicide by Skooma Shrew?

Even I don't fully know the answer to this, yet. But it really does seem so, right? Partially, I think Sybille is a little bit annoyed that she's having to share her conjoined room with this newcomer Donna. Maybe it's as simple as that. Before my gal showed up, Sybille had her own space, after all. We'll have to see, I guess.

As far as Cham's concerned, there were four possible outcomes during that last chapter:

1). Cham gives her the elixir and chooses to go with the Donna
2). Cham gives her the elixir but doesn't go with her
3). Cham doesn't give the elixir, but chooses to go with the Donna
4). Cham doesn't give the elixir, and doesn't choose to go...

If he'd NOT given the the elixir, this would've caused a different outcome in this next chapter. Same goes for if he'd go with her or not. All of those choices influence what's to come. See, this is what happens when I play my first Bioware game!

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

@SubRosa: I practically cheered to hear that!

Nice! That retort's for your pleasure.

Exactly. What? I can't trust my vampire wizard roommate who sleeps in the day and seems to have Solitude's Blue Palace court silently wrapped around her fang? How can this be?

So Laprima is going to try to get Sirdrasa clean? I am not surprised that Chamany was not willing to go with her. He makes a habit of avoiding being seen, by anyone really. Instead he lurks in the background.

This. You nailed it.

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

@WellTemperedClavier: Yeah, sometimes I wish there was an online Wiki for my work so I could make a quick reference to catch all those details. But you seem to be doing pretty well, all things considered.

Thanks! It has been such a pleasure to have your complex story about the characters of a Mike Judge creation combined with one of my Top 10 favorite games, as well. I hope that WHEN Outlanders comes to whatever end it's coming to that you'll consider writing another story. Or adding something from your past, as well. 🖋

If this story continues into next season (assuming the world doesn't end, etc.) we shall see a much more dynamic Laprima Donnaugh for sure. Her aunt is going to need her, which in a roundabout way, will be Laprima following the events of the Civil War. She'll also probably become involved with one of Bethesda's main faction quests. No, she's not Dragonborn, and I don't want to spoil which faction this is. But it's also rather obvious, if we consider the skillups she's raised during her time in Solitude.

I really hope the world doesn't come to an end...

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

@All: The final chapter of Spring 2023 should be up some time later today, or tomorrow morning. I don't know how it'll end. There will be two possible outcomes, actually, since we've ruled out Miss Donna not showing up to Wolf Woman's camp with the elixir. 🌷🌷 🌷

Have some cake.

.
______________________

. Blood from her Wrist

______________________


Laprima tailed after Chamany as he pushed through the door. Now inside of Sybille’s room, she grabbed for his sleeve, and plucked his shoulder. Explained to him that the woman who she’d need to go visit lived in rough territory; it was imperative that he come with her, if only for the sake of protection.

“My dear, I am afraid I cannot…” he started.

The argument began and continued, all while the esteemed wizard was a-lay nearby under bedsheets. From Laprima’s point of view, the journey back to Sirdasa was being considered as dangerous. The pair of women had been attacked by a wolf, and then ambushed by a large, spotted cat, which the Woods Woman called a ‘lynx’. Because of this, the noble was hoping not to return to the forest by herself.

From his perspective, there were a bevy of matters going on behind the scenes; things his lover hadn’t been privy to. Someday soon these matters could possibly be revealed, but now was not the time.

“Fine,” Laprima said, simultaneously whispering and shouting. “You wish to not accompany your most-beloved into a potential area of danger, I shall find someone who will!”

“Ah, but why you need help the woman at all?”

"Because she is my friend!" Laprima blurted, causing herself a moment of bewilderment. "She is my new friend, the first I have gained within this wretched town." And now that the words were out, the Heartlander wasn't sure what exactly they meant. Friend? …Sirdasa? …. REALLY?

With curiosity, she waited for any sort of relevant response, concerning recent events. For instance, if Chamany'd heard about Laprima's recent robbery troubles; some wild woman wearing furs had been stalking into town, demanding coin from his love not once, not twice, but three times, would he then put these two factors together? - The woman who'd taken coin from her was also who she was now claiming as a friend?

He did not do so. Chances are he hadn't gathered this latest news, at least this is what Laprima assumed.
“You must … eh… under-stand…such these things can be of danger for me, as well. I cannot just go… my face…” he gestured. “I must keep to within the Solitude walls for some time….”

“Fine. You do just that, Lacroix. You keep yourself within Solitude. And if it comes true that my corpse shall, some hours from now, soon be discovered, half-eaten, lying within shrubs and gra–”

The lump upon Sybille’s bed tossed just then, causing them both to pause and shift gazes. Was the wizard now awake? Had she quietly witnessed any of their hush-spoken words?

Laprima’s eyes reverted, locking with his. Chamany made a gesture, placing three fingers to his lips. Their quarrel, it came to an end, at least for the moment. Miss Donnaugh then stomped a boot softly upon the floor, frustrated. She turned abruptly. Opened her door, stepped back into her room. Once inside, she waited a few seconds for Chamany to join her. But he did not choose to follow.

“Alright, then.” She breathed, trying to calm down. - Did he even listen to what I just stated, about needing to trek into the wilds on my own? - Men, they could be so dense, sometimes. This is what she'd heard countless times from ladyfriends back home; seemed there's some truth to the notion.

Well, one thing for sure: she was going to do this. She was going to return to the forest, with or without him. But she would not do so while wearing the first dress she’d purchased at the clothings shoppe. This dress, which had cost just over a hundred and forty, was now in a state of such disrepair, it would become an object of derision if she were to parade it again through town! - Its hem and skirt were torn and ruffled, in need of serious amendments. A mysterious stain had soaked itself into her left sleeve; probably a bit of the lard Sirdasa had used to fry their dinner the night before. Bringing it back to the Raiment, where the snob sisters, Endarie and Taarie, would scoff and raise their noses at their previously pristine selection of a garment, now ruined, was not going to be enjoyable.

Distracted for a moment, the noble wondered if the Blue Palace had its own darner, or seamstress.

The dress had also proved to be a poor choice against Skyrim’s blustery cold. So Laprima scoured her closets, which by now contained just over a dozen selections. She found the bluish-gray outfit she’d worn to her first day of work. Ugly thing, but at least it would keep her warm.

She changed clothes with haste. After doing so, she checked her purse and pockets for any bits of currency.

“This time, I shall not bring for you more gold.”

Laprima removed any and all coins from her person, placing them into a compartment of her nightstand. She then stalked out of her room, hoping to return to Sirdasa's campsite before the skies turned dark.








Laprima Anne Donnaugh, retracing her steps in the snow. The journey had started blessedly full of sunshine, but flakes began falling from the sky as soon as she set foot outside of the town's gates, as if the Weather Gods knew she was out and about!

She arrived at the camp by mid-afternoon, fortunately without being attacked by animals or monsters. Still, she approached slowly, unsure if the Woman of the Woods would still be here. Or if she’d even be alive.

“Ha hey, look’t who’s back!”

Last time Laprima’d seen her, Sirdasa Noskal had been lying upon the shore, barely able to rouse herself. Well, this had changed. The formerly immobile user of skooma had at some point risen. Though she did not look as vibrant as she had the day before, she appeared to at least no longer be sick. She was in the process of roasting a meal in her large iron skillet as the noble approached.

“Just in time for some greens ‘n’ rabbit haunch,” Sirdasa proclaimed with her usual wolfish grin. “So, where ya been, princess? Whatcha been up to all day?”

Laprima recounted the events of her day. Leaving out the altercation she’d had with her beau, she explained to Sirdasa that she’d managed to obtain an example of elixir, which hopefully would alleviate the woods’ woman’s woes.

“Got some right in my pocket, here. Chamany has informed that the mixture should apply with guaranteed success,” she assured. “Might you find fit to try yourself a dose?”

Sirdasa did not answer at first. For someone who was normally quite the chatterbox, the hunter's silence struck as odd. She chose to avoid Laprima’s eyes as she busied herself preparing their meal. Reached into a small barrel next to her tent. Grabbed a couple of plates made of pewter, motioning for the noble to help herself.

The pair of women then sat on the sand, Laprima silently glad to be wearing something more protective against the elements. They began munching the dinner Sirdasa’d prepared, along with a shared pot of river water, which Sirdasa informed had previously been boiled at some point.

“Have ye any desire to perhaps cure thyself of dilemma?” Laprima tried a few minutes later, finishing her portion of supper. “Cham’s claim is, the potion should certainly remedy one’s craving for skooma. You should at least choose to quaff the dose.” – If only to see if the remedy actually works as promised, she nearly added.

A few more moments of silence. Finally, Sirdasa was chowed her last bite. She tossed her plate absently into a shallow portion of the river, perhaps in an effort to wash it.

“Mm. So here’s what I reckon.”

Laprima waited patiently.

“I reckon that first, you hand over any monies ya got, so I can go an’ git my nightly fix, princess. Afterwards, we c’n talk about me drinkin’ down this elixir…ya know… after I’m rolling around and suffering and such.”

“Ehm, no.”

“Mm. What now? What’d ya just say? No?” The familiar Sirdasa sneer was back.

“I did say no.” Laprima tossed her own plate into the water. “Firstly, because it is rude that you present thyself as a knave, demanding coin of me which has rightfully been earned. Secondly, I have returned to you now in an effort to assist. Not so that you may continue as you’ve been; a notorious, scheming wreck, rather than the ingenious, survivalistic huntress you should be."

And there it was. The fear she had felt before, it returned, hot and raw inside her nerves. She was having this conversation with someone who’d proven herself to be an unpredictable rogue, after all. A virtual scoundrel, wearing tattered selections of fur from the very animals she’d felled. Nevertheless, Laprima continued this new line of thought; not that she had any other choice at the moment.

"I sha’n’t divulge any more coin to you. Cannot do so, in fact. For this time, I have purposely chosen to come to you penniless. So that we can attempt to solve the menace which has savaged thy person, together.”

Laprima waited for a response, unsure if, once again, she was about to have a knife thrust toward her face.

"You haven't ANY gold?" Woods Woman nearly choked, uncomprehending. “Why even come all the ways out here, then?”

"As stated, I have brought for you this cure. This so-called elixir. Chamany has graciously allowed for you a dose, although he could not come personally, himself..." Laprima ground her teeth, her knuckles going white at the thought. "Anyhow. This is for you." She held the clear phial before her. "Will you accept?"

A moment passed.

"Mm. Here's what I reckon," Woods Woman repeated, shifting her frame slowly. Right hand reaching downward, downward toward her scabbard. "I reckon that's one decision you just made for the worst, girlie."

And here it was: Sirdasa's blade, unsheathed and wavering, right before the Heartlander's face.

"What? Sirdasa?... No!"

"Seems I gotta teach yew a lesson, princess. Really don't wanna do this. But maybe this'll be fer the best! Maybe.... after I slices inta ya a few cuts, we's can come to an understandin'!"

Laprima blinked. Realized that a couple of tears, actual tears had welled and fallen from her eyes. "Please, Can we just...!"

But the moment had passed....

"Here we GO!"






... Sirdasa's knife, a cheap iron blade which otherwise had been quite serviceable at downing a wolf, a lynx, and then catching and cutting last night's suppery meal, swung first. ...Laprima, quick on her feet, withdrew from Woods Woman's attack within a fraction! - At the same time she grabbed the wizard's magical daggar from her pocket, and then thrust the weapon on instinct, damaging Sirdasa with a flurry of shock magic!

"...Sirdasa! ... Please!"

"You think you stand a CHANCE?"

Without realizing, Laprima gestured a healing spell, the only magic she'd mastered during youth, within her mind. This spell was now readied upon her left hand, just in case.

"DAMN YOU!!!"

The pair of ladies circled Sirdasa's tent: Laprima moving evasively, Sirdasa carrying the offensive: attempting thrusts and swings and onslaughts. Finally, her knife connected, causing a wound upon the Heartlander's forearm.

"Argh!"

By now, Laprima's mind had begun to focus. This was REAL. This altercation, this brawl, it was really happening. She could see it in her attacker's face. Woods Woman arched her back...... made a grand charge, which Laprima was able to evade.

"You're pathetic!"

This is whom I referred to as a friend?

Laprima danced her way around the tent, gaining some space between them. In reaction, Sirdasa sheathed her knife, and grabbed for her bow. Reached behind her shoulder; fetched for her quiver. Nocked an arrow into place. By now though, the princess had continued her way around the opposite side of the tent; and began using this obstacle to her advantage.

So the woman of the woods began sidestepping around her place of rest, step, clomp, step, clump...
Seeing what was going on, Laprima made sure to keep rotating around the tent, in an effort to avoid her adversary's first shot. She'd just been sliced by a knife, which wasn't her idea of any kind of fun. She had no desire to find out what it felt like to be pierced by an arrow.

...Blood was dripping from her wrist, she suddenly realized, yet she barely could feel her injury. "Sirdasa! We can speak about this!"

Apparently not. Woods Woman ignored the Posh Lady's words. Fired her arrow -- Thunk! -- which impaled itself harmlessly into the furs of her tent. She continued to move away from Laprima, up the slippery hill, perhaps realizing that distance was (at present) in her favor. She could shoot Posh Lady from afar by now, yet Posh Lady would have quite a lot of ground to cover to make a retort of her own.



Suddenly, Sirdasa was gone! She'd withdrawn far enough away that Laprima could no longer see the angry shrew. So Laprima decided to rush up the hillside, nerves on end, sideways like a two-legged crab. Adrenaline rippled within her body while her skin broke out in goosebumps.

Where was her opponent?

"I'm going to enjoy killing yew!"

These word, they surprisingly stung, even more than the wound Laprima had endured upon her wrist. -- An arrow bounced off the ground right beside Lady Donnaugh's feet, causing her to glance upwards. Ever the sportswoman, experienced with combat against plenty of outdoor adversaries, Sirdasa's next move had been to clamber atop a large boulder. The space between them now was too great to collapse, not without massive strides of bravery on her part, at least.

And then it happened. An arrow, it found her. Pierced its way into Laprima's side...

"HARCH!"

... causing her to stumble. The pain was like nothing she'd ever felt, yet she could not (at present) meditate upon it. More missiles followed. Fortunately, Laprima was able to dodge them all while simultaneously stepping her way around the boulder, and up the hill.... An odd thought just then: eventually she's going to run out. ... Run out of arrows, that is. There could only be so many of them packed inside that quiver, after all.

And then for whatever reason, Sirdasa was abruptly circling her way from the large rock, closing the distance between them.

Anger overcame the dilettante from Cyrodiil. Without a thought she badgered the Woods Woman quickly, slashed into her midriff before her foe could change weapons, causing a great burst of bluish energy to sizzle across Sirdasa's skin. Now (surprisingly) Laprima had the advantage. The hunter was too close; the distance garnered which'd allowed her to use her hunting bow a moment ago was no longer in her favor.

"I'll slit yew open like an old woman's purse!"

Lady Donnaugh attacked while Sirdasa switched to her blade. The melee then became a flurry of thrusts and stabs and parries... The tables had turned. Sirdasa, being the more experienced member of this battle, was swiftly in the process of winning!

Lady Donnaugh, the delicately-coiffed Heartlander, niece to perhaps the most powerful woman in all Skyrim. Laprima the noble, who'd previously been a registered citizen of the grandest City in all Cyrodiil, proud new employee of the Winking Skeever, reluctant smuggler of an enormous quantity of skooma into the breaches of Skyrim, found that her lifeforce was failing, crucially low. In an effort to stave herself from death she began aggressively backtracking, sloshing her way through the snow in reverse, desperately casting her healing spell for all it was worth! - Yet this could not last much longer. Her mana, it was also expending too greatly, too quickly!! - It seemed as though there was no way she was going to come out of this alive! as her pursuer continued the advance, step by step, swing by swing!

"By the Gods, please! I am growing weak!"

.... but then....

"I'll let you live... this time."

...a series of words she thought she'd never be lucky enough to hear.

The Heartlander slipped and fell into the snow, shaking with fear, sure that her demise was about to befall. But to her amazement, Sirdasa Noskal sheathed her weapon. Was calmly walking away. As though she'd simply grown bored and lost interest!

"Suh--Sirdasa?"

"Make it quick," the Woman of the Woods growled impatiently, eyeing the princess. As though the events of the past half-hour or so hadn't just occurred.

Somewhere in the distance, a hammer was pounding what sounded to be a blacksmith's anvil, perhaps. Laprima Donnaugh, heart still racing, anxiety still surging, placed the wizard's blade into a pocket of the hideous outfit she'd chosen to wear, hoping for something which would keep her warm without realizing that comfort would soon become the least of her worries.

She raised her left hand again, tentatively. Healed the rest of her wounds, all the while keeping an eye upon her unpredictable acquaintance.

"Suh... so... we haven't any more qualms about. A-about y-you taking this elixir?" Laprima reached into her purse. Grabbed the magical mixture. Offered it with a shaking hand.

Woods Woman considered this for a few daunting moments, before thankfully making a positive choice. "Gimme that!" she snatched. "Mmm," she murmured, gulping the potion down. "Goodness. My ... goodness." she said, righting her shoulders, blinking her eyes.

Indeed, it seemed as though a change had come over Sirdasa Noskal; Laprima could see this plainly and clearly.

And it was at this very moment when what seemed to be a small miracle occured: a figure, a man, came rushing towards them up the hillside.

"Laprima! ... Laprima! .... I have come for you!"

Chamany Lacroix, wearing that same odd scarf around his head, clambered his way toward them.

"I have made, mistake, a one BIG mistake, my dear," he said, out of breath. "I have come, and now can protect from you the dangers of the forest!"

"Pfft. Seems you're a little late for that," Sirdasa scoffed.

"Aye," Laprima agreed. "As I believe we have already come to an understanding. Have we not, Sirdasa?"

"Seems that way."

"Eh, think I know you," Chamany said awkwardly to Sirdasa Noskal.

"Mm, likewise. Seems you're the one that started this whole skooma-sucking mess!"

The sky was beginning to darken. As the cold air swept and snaked around the three of them, Laprima shivered. Pointed and gestured back toward camp. Maybe it was best if they all gathered around the Woods Woman's fire.

—------------------------------------------

First swing, Laprima connects!

Woods Woman gains the upper hand

Close-Quarters Combat

Posh Lady falters...

... but Sirdasa changes her mind (Wow. I really did not expect this...it was not part of the script. If the fight began she was supposed to continue until death!)

Chammy joins the party

Quest Completed 🏆
.

And Chamany continues to be as useless as an air conditioner in the arctic. This guy has an aversion to doing anything himself.

So now presentable, and without gold, it is off to Sirdasa's place. On her own. But will Sirdasa even want the elixir?

As I have been expecting, Sirdasa prefers steel to elixirs. This does not look good for Prima...

And now Chamany shows up when it is too late to matter. Prima really needs to dump this loser.

So Sirdasa just stopped fighting in the game? That is weird.

So I guess that means this season of the Laprima Show has drawn to a close. It was a neat look into the life of an ordinary person in Skyrim.

Thanks, dear Rosa, you're the best.

Very brave of Laprima to venture back into the freezing forest to aid Sirdasa. And no help from Chamany of course.

Wow, pretty ungracious of Sirdrasa when it’s so obvious Laprima is trying to help. Methinks Laprima needs to rethink her list of potential friends. . . .

Well, it seems like all turned out okay. This time.

Oh, and Laprima? You need to learn a ranged shock spell so you can send lightning bolts after archers.

I'm glad you enjoy my stuff! It was a lot of fun to write.

We'll most likely get to the end of Outlanders in October of this year. Exactly when it ends depends a bit on how the epilogue is parsed out (it has far more chapters than most episodes, though those chapters are typically much shorter). Beyond that, I do have a companion piece to Outlanders that I recently wrote. It's much shorter. There's also a brief Fallout-Daria crossover.

Starting the story...

Huh, so in a way it almost seems like Laprima's experiences have toughened her up beyond Chamany. Going out to see a wild woman no longer seems so scary, but Chamany's quite reluctant.

Interesting development! Laprima feels kinship with Sirdasa. Maybe it feels more genuine than some of her friendships within the castle.

Definitely don't see Laprima sticking with Chamany that much longer.

Hm, I'm sure the court of the Blue Palace would have connections with all the local reputable tailors.

So she's going to help Sirdasa, which is good... but I hope it doesn't end up with Laprima becoming an enabler.

Aw, how touching. They're actually having a friendly chat.

Sadly, it quickly turns into Sirdasa focusing on her fix. But at least Laprima's standing her ground here! Sadly, it doesn't bode well for their friendship, at least not in the short-term.

Ah, good thinking to not come with money!

Oh, dang. Now it's escalating. So much for friendship.

A lot happened here! The fight was suitably chaotic. Makes sense that Laprima would go into survival mode; sharp though she is, she's far from a seasoned combatant.

And now... Sirdasa suddenly changes her mind? What brought this about, I wonder. Maybe the elixir will do its thing, but she seemed dead-set against it a little while ago. And at least Chamany finally showed up! Quite a note to go out on, I'm wondering how this all fits together!

That was some ending. Truly unexpected but I can see the wild woman suddenly doing an about face.

Exhausted from by fighting, running out of arrows, frustration setting in as the quarry persists despites all her efforts Sirdasa lashes out thinking that she can drink the drink and deal with Posh Lady on the morrow.

If Laprima is reluctant to use physical force may I suggest learning a spell of assistance? I mean, the Sisters of Insanity are always ready for a good fight.

Perhaps we’ll see how Sirdasa does after a period of time.

Wanted to add this before I forget to do so...

La Prima Donna Beauty Salon. Unfortunately the place is now closed, and therefore I couldn't get an actual picture. But it's a salon local to me, went there a couple times in the past to get properly beautified. It's the inspiration for Laprima Donnaugh's name! 🍀

Cool!

That is cool!

.
________________________________

.I Don’t Dream About Anyone

________________________________



The life of Laprima Anne Donnaugh had taken an impressive turn. She had thoroughly escaped the Darkness, her mind and her spirit no longer tense with latent worry. Though it'd be presumptuous to say she moved 'into the light', certainly it seemed her troubles were over; as of late she'd been enjoying more conventional routines. She had been trapped for years within the depths of a virtual Daedric realm, but now she was immersed in the normalcy anyone her age should have the comfort to delight.

Laprima escaped the Darkness, and thought she had escaped the muddle. But little could she know the events and the things to come.

Let us gander...



Fredas, 12 Sun's Dusk, Fourth Era, Year 201


“... Were it not for thine fate, and the fate concerning the gatherings of noteworthy parishioners, that she be placed upon this spell…. Ach, damned to pieces! Said that last bit incorrectly.”

Laprima raised her arms into the air. Dropped the booklet she'd been holding to the tiled floor of her bedroom. Sighed.

“Give this a rest, why don’cha?” Chamany groaned. “Seems, eh. Well. It seems you have been at this words for many hours, mon amour. And the hour, it is late." He made a gesture with his hands. "Just come yourself to make lie beside me, eh?”

But she was not ready to give up, not just yet. - “No! I must continue my practicing!” she muttered fiercely.

Today she was wearing a new dress made of silk, which had been brilliantly sewn and stitched in colors of white and gold. She scrunched her face while reaching to grab the booklet she'd dropped from the floor. “Almost got it, Cham. Almost!” She grinned like a loon for just a second. Because she had no idea of how maddening her newest venture would turn out. “How bloomin' without hope can this be?”

Chamany LaCroix sighed. “Well. I guess you must then continue.”

“I shall do so. And I apologize,” Laprima said. “But you must know by now that I can be quite stubborn, when the passion strikes.”

Chamany nodded. “This, you can be, which is why you are..." Another gesture. "Mon amour. For I could accept not a woman, with not her own mind.”

“Perhaps you should head off to the pub for an hour or so," Laprima suggested. "Mmm, make it two. Pretty sure I can nail my delivery by then." She looked away from him and found the page she'd last been reading from. "On your return you'll find me much more pleasant. ... Now. Where did I stay?”






Laprima struck a pose, as though seriously in contemplation, while Chamany watched.

In her left hand she held the booklet (though she was trying her darndest not to rely the words written upon it) while her right lifted slightly to the ceiling. At this moment it was as though she'd transformed, become almost statuesque. The woman was a natural. Chamany blinked. Thought for a moment of how lucky he was, that this was going to be his future wife.

”Were it not for thine fate, and the fate concerning the gatherings of noteworthy parishioners, that she be placed upon this… stand….” she corrected her previous mistake with a pause. “That ye and yer own shalt meet amongst this throne, and gather our wits, while parlaying not alone…”

“Aye. Seems for this time, we have done the words right!” her lover interrupted, clapping his hands.

“Chamany, please! ... The pub?”

“Fine. I shall be off, then.” And he was. He hauled himself out of their shared bed, stepping with a smile out of the room. "Any excuse to enjoy myself a pint, mon petit pain sucré."

Magnificent. Though she loved her lover truly, she had to admit there were times when blessings of solitude could be harbored to the utmost. Such times, they could truly be golden. Or in this case, they could be more productive.

"Where was I?"

During the previous few days of the second week of Sun’s Dusk, after convincing Sirdasa Noskal to cure herself of skooma addiction, Laprima had continued work at the Winking Skeever as though nothing untoward had happened. As though she hadn’t nearly been killed by a fur-wearing, raving-mad lunatic out in the middle of nowhere, while merely trying to help the shrew. No, Laprima remained busy. Modern life was sink or swim, modern life was do or die.

On Middas the Tenth, Laprima decided to revisit the Bard’s College. She’d taken the day off from serving, eager to learn a lesson or two from whomever was free to teach on this day. And that’s how she learned about The Headmaster's Trial, the college's newest play, which would be presented in a month. According to the handout she'd been given, getting involved with The Headmaster's Trial was easy. Giraud Gemane, the play's director, was welcoming 'actors and actresses of varying degrees', novices included. The playwright himself had said so.

But still, if she was actually going to do this, if the raven-haired Heartlander from the Imperial City was actually going to stand before the citizens of Solitude, acting and portraying before her proud Aunt Elisif for sure, along with so many others who'd become everyday faces in her life, she wanted to be good at this. As good and proficient as she could be.

“My. Aren’t ye the fettered one!” Laprima said, allowing herself a glance at the latest page. Because glancing at whatever latest page was okay, as long as the words which’d been written were supposed to be spoken by some other actor. “Locked within a patois of unbecoming, so concerned our heavenly Gods might loathe to concur. Dream amongst thyself, woman.”

“I do not dream about anyone!" Laprima's voice rose, as she imagined the group of dark-robed parishioners before her. "Except to concern myself. Now... might we gather ‘bout the spell… Ach! SPELL??? No, it is STAND, you nitwit. Laprima!" -- She mussed her hair. "Stand, NOT spell!!! Damned to Oblivion!”

She raised her arms once again. Dropped the script to the tiled floor of her bedroom a second time, gnashing her teeth!

“Just twelve lines you’ve got!” she scolded into her now-empty room. “Just twelve! You’d think she’d drive this nail into the coffin already!" Laprima said, referring to herself from afar. "Urrgh!" She then lowered her voice, eyes closed, pondering. "Acting is much more laborious than first considered.”

Still, she ploughed on. As she bent to reach and gather the booklet (again) from the floor, she wondered if she'd ever be any good at her newfound ideal: to become a noteworthy actor. Never mind the fact that she'd literally just begun learning the craft, for some reason she could not entirely see that she was pushing herself a little too hard. Perhaps it was due to the fact that getting involved with the Bard's College had originally been her aunt's idea, aunt Elisif, that is. Perhaps there was some kind of unseen mental block which was causing Laprima to not attain as-quick success, for she'd been practicing her lines for hours.

Another factor, almost a complication at this point: by now the secret was out.

Over the past few days, someone within the college had discovered her true identity; discovered she was not just some random lass with a Heartlander's accent, who'd strolled in two weeks ago on a whim. No, the dark-haired Laprima was in fact a direct relative of Solitude's jarl, she was Lady Elisif's first niece, in fact. When Headmaster Viarmo learned of this, he'd initially tried to persuade Laprima to go for the part of 'Emilia', the play's female lead, who would be opposite the role of 'Pablo', the play's main protagonist, its male lead. But Laprima was immediately bothered by this for two reasons: 1). 'Emilia' had already been granted to another actress, a young woman from Hammerfell who'd been studying at the college for close to a year, and 2). Lady Donnaugh hadn't done anything close to this for nearly a decade. She'd been onstage before, true, but not since she was a child.

"No, you misunderstand," Viarmo had argued. "I am confident, that she can do this. Just imagine the draw at the door, Giraud. Firstly, we both love her accent!"

Giraud Gemane nodded. "That we do."

"Is the way she orates not just as charming as a bell? Also: the aunt's very own niece, in our very own production. We'll easily make twice the coin!" he danced a little jig, profit in his eyes. "We'll be able to milk Headmaster's Trial for months after word gets out, well beyond Saturalia, for sure. People will journey into town from Whiterun, from Markath, just to view our latest diorama!"

"Milk, eh?"

In the end though, he'd relented. Giraud Gemane, the college's Dean of History, was able to convince Viarmo that aye, perhaps some day, Laprima might be able to handle such a lofty role. But for now, she'd be better as support. The noble herself had admitted she had virtually no experience at such things. Understood, sire?

Headmaster Viarmo did understand, reluctantly so. For Laprima, this was a small blessing, not just because she now had something fun and challenging to look forward to, but also, the headmaster finally gave up his ridiculous pursuit: he was no longer trying to send her off to some faraway cave, so she could retrieve the set of verses lost from the college. Especially now that he knew who she was. The task had now gone to someone else; a man with a silly name; 'Lord Havemercy', or some such. The man, an experienced paladin and adventuring type, had joined the Bard's College about a week ago, hoping to learn how to better deal with some of the adversaries he met on the road, but with words rather than weapons. He promised he'd get the ode back. Lady Donnaugh, she'd serve this 'Have Mercy' a drink at the Skeever for free, should he be lucky to stroll into her 'day job' soon enough.

As for Laprima herself, she tried and she tried. After some time, finally she got the drama right, not knowing that her own life was about to also become its own set of dramas.


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

Late night supper with Elisif

Lecture at Bard's College

Lord Haaf-Mersey
.

Welcome back to LPD! I love that she is trying her hand at barding. She is certainly putting the effort in here; I hope it pays off with a reasonable performance.

And a cameo by Lord Haaf Mercy! Methinks he is much better suited at fetching trinkets from dangerous dungeons than LPD.

The prima donna returns!

It sounds like Lady Donnagh is practicing to do some speechifying. She's going to be in a play? Cool! All the world is just stage, and she is now a player.

So Prima is no longer known as just a server at the local pub. The word is out that she's a high falootin' muckey muck. And now suddenly people want to bend over backward to brown-nose her. At least the boss bard is not trying to send her off to a horrific death in some dank cave crawling with draugr. She can leave that sort of thing to people like January of Detroit.

Or to Lord Haaf-Mersy! Perfect! I hope he loads up on some carbs from bread before he goes in that tomb.

Lord Haaf-Mersey had better get his act together and get back quickly. He won't find a better barmaid in all of Skyrim, you bet cha.

I remember that quest. It can be a hard one.

Acadian: thanks, Yeah Barding. Huh, she's trying to be a bard. Interesting, I hadn't thought of it that way.

Lord Haaf-Mersey actually did join the Bard's College so he could get better at Intimidation (he was already good at Persuasion). There are also occasional times when Speech does matter in the game, especially for people who want to try other methods, other than just killing all the time. Because of this, LHM was desperate. He had a lot of money saved, so he spent a lot of it with Giraud to boost Speech as high as he could. As a plus for Laprima, he also did that silly opening quest, and also the Burning of King Olaf quest.

Fun fact: "I don't Dream about Anyone" is a line from The Smiths song "Headmaster's Ritual". It was also the name of the story I was writing in my 20s. That story was about a bunch of teenagers in high school though, not a medieval-based videogame. I went through a "Smiths" phase in my 20s.


SubRosa: Yes! LPD is back. I have no idea where that came from, btw. Was just walking along in the park one day and began visualizing her going to the college and joining a play.

Indeed, it was only a matter of time before someone figured who she is. That was fun to write!

Ha ha: Laprima is at her day job as I type this. She just gave a drink to the wrong person! Yikes. Glad there are no consequences for this. Think I'd better pay more attention.


macole: We didn't know each other during those early years, Vampire Hunter. Lord Haaf-Mersey was one of my earlier characters. Quite the Paladin. He did Dawnguard. Rawr! - Fortunately for Laprima she won't have to do that quest.

Phew. Lunch rush at the Skeever appears to be over. She was really working the floor today (while I make one final edit). 👩‍🦱 When Gisli (or as folks like to call her, Erikur's sister) shows up that's when we know her shift is coming to an end.

Chamany just walked into the Skeever too. And here comes Gisli. I mean Erikur's Sister.

.
_______________________________________________________


.I was a barmaid once, then I shot an arrow in a tree


_______________________________________________________


Sundas, 14th of Sun's Dusk


After spending a few days getting back to surer footing, working her job, practicing lines for the College’s upcoming play, Laprima decided to take another day for herself. This was rather easy for her to do since it was Sundas, and she didn't usually work weekends.

By now she’d been in Solitude for twenty-two days. Life was moving along. The dramatic moments with her aunt, with her man, and with the woman who’d blackmailed (then fought) her on the banks of Dragon Bridge’s river were becoming footnotes of the past. She was making friends at the Skeever, or at least building upon a series of acquaintanceships with the regular customers she’d been serving day after day.

"You look like you could use a ripe apple," Jala, one of Solitude's outdoor vendors greeted. "Or a cabbage. Or a leek!"

"Two apples of green, and two red ones," Laprima said, who wanted thirty-six gold for this purchase. Was this too much for four pieces of fruit? Surely seemed so. Though the she could easily afford this price, Laprima couldn't help but wonder if she might be getting overcharged.

"Come back when you figure out how to spend money," Jala whined.

...Overcharged, because of who she is. Seemed more and more folks about town were becoming aware of her little secret.

But Laprima couldn't complain. Because she wasn’t missing home quite as much. She was even beginning to enjoy Solitude just for its own sake, including the air which often bit coldly around. She’d shuddered the first time she’d seen snow for instance, yet eventually began looking forward to the way those flakes fell magically from the sky, then gathered like wisps of white fairy dust along the ground.

The auroras at night, always a spectacle to behold! - Being from the south (where such sky-illuminations did not occur), she found it odd that most folks here in town ignored them. As a Heartlander who’d never seen natural spectacles such as these, she couldn’t help but gaze upward, any night Northern Lights chose to flash across the sky. Maybe she’d feel different after six months or eight, but for now she was always entranced by their sudden appearance.

Still, after a few days of ordinary city living, a bit of wanderlust began to entrench within her mind.

As a teen (and a noble), she had been invited to travel to Bravil once, to Chorrol a couple times, and also to the now-established town of Wickmere, accompanying her father and an entourage of soldiers and adults on official business. Father had included daughter in an effort to teach her a few things about his trade, just in case she wanted to follow his footsteps. But daughter mostly looked forward to the travel itself.

Viewing the countryside with its varieties of trees and landscapes, always something to look forward to.

...And because of this, a bit of curiosity was beginning to emerge now that she’d been dwelling in a brand-new place.

She decided to take a day. Not just so she could have some time to herself, but also to get outside of Solitude. She wanted to return to Sirdasa. See how the huntress was doing; see whether the addict had managed to abstain from the big evils of skooma. -- There was some danger in this, of course; wild animals roaming the trees and such. But Laprima felt as though she could handle these if she needed to. Sybille Stentor had allowed the noblewoman to keep the magical blade she’d lent, and this blade had been quite effective.

Perhaps such a pursuit was also due to the fact that deep inside, Lady Donnaugh still had a bit of the rebel contained within her soul, desiring to roam free for a few hours. – Doing things she shouldn’t be doing.

As youngsters, Laprima and her favorite pal Siouxsie had filled hours upon hours engaging in small moments of deviant behavior, during and outside of school. Not necessarily crimes, but things her stuffy father and some of her classmates would disapprove of. Befouling the Lucky Lady statue which’d been erected recently in the city’s Market District with architect’s crayons, smashing rotten fruit upon city walls while no one was looking, and so on. But most of all, roaming the city far and away from adults, including all its seedier parts.

What would her aunt say, for instance, should Elisif somehow discover Laprima’s sudden trek? There was some delight while pondering this thought! – Lady Donnaugh smiled.





She walked outside the town's gate just after mid-morning. Again, wearing the same drab upper-class outfit she'd donned a few times before; colors of slate and blue. After all the purchases she'd made at Radiant Raiment, these were still her best clothes for facing Skyrim's cold.

...And again, the Weather Gods chose to make it snow, just as she was leaving Solitude. Laprima began moving at a half-jog to keep warm. It took her about an hour to get to Sirdasa's camp.

Upon arrival, Sirdasa was not here. But her campfire was going, with plenty of hours of light left in the day. So the Heartlander huddled deeper toward the fire. As long as she kept close to its flames she'd be cozy enough to sit while she waited for the woodsy woman to return. After a few minutes, she was already getting cold! So she reached into the den next to Sirdasa’s tent, retrieved a few logs and brambles. Fed the flames to make them stronger.

….Such a luxury. Perhaps one of the only true luxuries of Sirdasa Noskal’s constantly-outdoors existence, outside of skooma. The fire responded with a series of small roars, each time she added to it. She did not have to wait for her former foe much longer.

“Well, look’it who’s here!”

“Sirdasa!” Laprima grinned. “Yes. Just got here not long ago. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Decided to check up on me, eh?”

As usual, the huntress was wearing furs seemingly patched together with a series of threads, buttons, and grommets she’d scavenged from wherever she’d come across such fastenings. Her shoulders, legs, and midriff were bare. “Not to worry, missy. I been clean.” Sirdasa returned a smile of her own, stained teeth included. “Clean from the ravages of skooma! And I gots ya ta thank fer all that.”

Sirdasa placed her bow, a well-used piece which nonetheless looked well-cared for (not that Laprima knew the difference), right alongside the fire almost reverently, just like Laprima had seen deacons place religious objects next to Altars of the Eight back home. From her shoulder, Sirdasa then removed her quiver, and dropped what looked to be a sort of satchel. Inside the satchel (which had partially slipped open) were at least three downed animals. Two rabbits, and a third small critter which the noble could not identify.

“Ready f'r some chow?”

Laprima was.





After Sirdasa skinned and prepared the creatures she’d felled, and then roasted them in the fire with salts and garlic, the pair of ladies enjoyed a midday meal. Mm, such succulence. Somehow better than the salted, sometimes stored-for-days meats Lady Donnaugh usually ate, in the sense that there was a sort of freshness involved, despite the fact that this food was impromptu, and hastily-prepared far outside of any kitchen. Hmm. And wasn’t this often the truth about anyone who found themselves living off the land? Weren’t most of their meals just this: impromptu and hastily-prepared?

Sirdasa had added some leafy greens on the side which tasted minty. Laprima tried eating one of these on its own, wondering if she was about to discover a new magical effect she could use for potion-making. But no such luck! Some plants or ingredients were just this: plants or ingredients, with no additional, magical properties.

“Such a shame I perhaps cannot convince you to follow me into town,” Laprima quipped, “so you can replace the Blue Palace’s main chef!” She said this half-jokingly, which also meant she was half-serious.

“Nah. Wouldn’t last in town a day nor a night before slipping into mischief.”

“Ach, well that’s too bad. Couldn’t help but at least try to suggest such a scenario, at the very least. You do have talents, other than wielding that bow, is all.”

Sirdasa ‘the Shrew’ made no reply. Truth was (Laprima thought), the shrew was right. It almost seemed she belonged out here in the wilds. Like it’d be near-impossible to imagine her dwelling in any sort of civilized location, with her matted hair, roughened physique, and unperfumed frame.

“Well. Glad to hear you are doing well,” Laprima continued, devouring her last bite. “Certainly seems as though you’re sustaining. Subsisting. Whichever term is used.” Following Sirdasa’s example, she tossed the tin plate she’d eaten from casually into the river.

“That I am. Been wonderin’ whether or not the cravings for that foul brew might suddenly return, ya know? But whatever’s in that mixture you and Chamany stoled from the alchemist’s shop, it damn-sure works to proper-like.”

“Oh! Well glad to hear,” Laprima, truly relieved. Good. She’d gotten the answer she’d been wanting to hear. “Now. Might I be able to pay a few coins to fatten thy pocket? Um, might you accept just a few on my behalf?”

“Naw, put that money away!” Sirdasa’s brow knitted. “Serious, princess. I ain’t no kinda charity case normal-wise, I only was actin’ so due to the foul brew which had took’it over my usual, normal-day ways.”

“Alright. Well, I’d like to at least pay a few gold for the meal, then. And for your kind hospitality. I walked all the way out here, after all. You did not need to share what was probably a second meal … with me.”

Sirdasa did not answer. Only glared and rolled her eyes.

“Right, well.” Laprima sat awkwardly, unsure how to continue. Such was the awkwardness nobles (and others who were doing well with coin) sometimes found themselves burdened with, she realized, when all they were trying to do was to offer help.

A homeless person in the street might beg for your money, yet if you offered sustenance, or something it appeared he or she might actually need (medicine, or a new pair of shoes, for instance), it was almost as if they were offended. “Blessings of MYSTARA upon ye!” they’d sometimes hurl, stalking off. And now it was the wannabe giver’s turn to feel socially-graceless and bumbling.

Laprima struggled with this moment of conversational ineptitude, searching for clarity, searching for something to say which could right this sudden blunder properly. It was then that she had the thought; the thought which would change the rest of her naturally-given life.

“Alright, Sirdasa. Well how about this?”

The huntress sighed. “Stop it. Please. Plenty of animals out here in the pines, if it’ll make ya feel better about MY hospitality. Plenty’a rabbits and ‘coons and squirrels and such.”

“No. Listen, please, a moment, will you?”

Sirdasa stopped polishing her plate.

“How about .... you teach me a thing or two about your trusty weapon, there.” Laprima pointed to the ground. “Ehm, I mean your bow.”

At this suggestion the shrew was startled.

“You wish to learn how to shoot a bow?” the huntress asked, her face contorted. As though such a request was just as ludicrous as asking if somebody comfortable living in nature would like to become the palace’s head chef.

“Aye. Yes I would. Like to learn.” Laprima was grinning, the mischievous child within her seemingly up to no good. “I know it seems odd, this sudden request. But I am just picturing myself carrying that, and able to aim, and shoot. And who else better to teach these things?”

Sirdasa barked just one note of laughter. Crossed her arms.

“And for this, I can pay you some coin,” Laprima added. “Might you accept?”

The huntress smiled. “Hmm. Alright.” The irony wasn’t lost on her, of course. “Ya know, just a few days ago I grabb’d this very piece to try teachin’ ya a lesson. Wasn’t never gonna kills ya, just so you know. But was shooting at ya just wanted to show a thing or two. But a’course, I was also half-outta my mind with the skooma.”

The Woman from the Woods knelt down, cradled her weapon. “Uh, but this, I cannot just give to ya, nor let you even brandish it,” she said. “This… well it’s my lucky piece. Nobody but me, ya gather what I saying?” She seemed distracted a moment. “But I do have a second bow stored nearby. A backup, if you will. You can use that one. Heck, you can have it…”

And so the lesson began. Sirdasa fetched her ‘backup’ and gave it to Laprima. This bow was a short one (rather than a longbow; the huntress explained the difference: short meant less impact yet faster reloads…) which had been crafted from the wood of an oak tree. The type of tree the bow had been crafted from made a lot of difference. Oak was a denser material than the firs and pines which surrounded them, which meant her new shortbow was sturdy enough to maintain tension while drawing an arrow, yet flexible enough to keep the shooter’s arms from becoming quickly fatigued.

“And most important,” the lesson continued. “Do NOT point at someone or something, unless you gots clear intent fer usin’ it.”

“Right. Course not. Only makes sense.”

“Also, just bacause an arrow has been notched don’t not mean it should immediately be shot.” The Woman from the Woods picked up her own weapon, notched an arrow from her quiver, and faced toward a tree. “Always important to aim,” she loosed the arrow, which pierced the tree with a loud *thunk!* causing the noble to blink. “And if possible, always sneak upon the target,” the teacher said, huddling toward the ground in a particular stance: her lead foot pointed straight ahead, rear foot closer to sideways. “Put yer weight forward, while using whatever foot’s in back fer leverage.”

Sirdasa bounced, displaying the flexibility her rear leg now had. Laprima had occasionally seen this stance used by archers back in Cyrodiil. Woods Woman then placed her feet in such a way that each footfall was entirely silent, creeping slowly forward. “Get to them b’fore they know you’s even there, princess. Ya see?”

Laprima did. Her new shortbow had been strung about a week ago, Sirdasa explained to the noble. “Here. Let me show how ta notch, aim, and loose. See that tree?” she pointed to a nearby fir which had a trunk which’d been stripped of lower branches. “Try hitting that.”

So Posh Lady notched, she aimed, she got into stance. And of course, her very first shot not only missed the tree, but went spiraling off into a bank of nearby snow with barely enough force to keep it flying straight.

“A-ha ha ha ha!” laughed the teacher. Well, both of them laughed. Because of course the chances for a cultured woman’s first-time success at firing a bow would be just as pathetic as Sirdasa trying to pass off looking classy in a Radiant Raiment dress. “Here, let me get alongside ya, princess. Here.” She grabbed for an arrow, then placed her hands upon Laprima’s, showing exactly how much tension (and more importantly, how much pliability) the oaken bow could handle and offer.

The huntress’s fingers were hard and calloused. Laprima’s, on the other hand, which were delicately-manicured.

“Got ta get you some gauntlets,” Sirdasa observed. “This’ll tear up your fingers b’fore long.”

Laprima agreed. Already, she noticed glaring pink nubs upon the pads of her fingers, which stung a little.

“Anyhow, ‘tis important ta know and learn how to aim,” said the teacher. “Eye-to-hand co-ordination, is what tha soldiers up in Dour like ta call it….”

It took about an hour, and by this time it was starting to get dark. But after a few shots and a few more blunders and misses, finally, success. *Plunk* went the final-to-last arrow, straight into the tree! Causing a small cloud of dust and bark to go flying.

“Oooh, just wait until Chamany hears about this!” Laprima gloated. “Can we try some more?”

Posh Lady and Woodsy Woman gathered all the arrows which had missed the tree (pretty much all of them!) and the lesson continued. Night was falling, soon it'd be too dark to try bumbling off into the woods back to town. Time to go.

Ah, Chamany Lacroix. Laprima Donnaugh headed back into town, unknowing of Chamany’s upcoming fate.


—-------------------------------------------------------------

Dining with Chammy

Sirdasa's Bedroom

"Always important to aim..."

Teaching how to Sneak

She aims!

She shoots!

*Thunk* She scores!

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

Notes: Laprima's new shortbow isn't really all that short. Gonna have to learn how to deal with meshes & textures one of these days.
.

LPD is enjoying a more or less normal routine, practicing her bardy lines, working at the Skeever and learning some of the pros and cons of being a recognized noble.

Wanderlust and a desire to check up on Sirdrasa make for a good excuse for an expedition into the northern woods outside Solitude.

Good to know the former skooma addict is still clean and faring well in the woods. I like how when LPD tastes something new that came from the ground, she applies her growing alchemy skill toward analyzing it for its potion/poison potential.

So, the deal is made – achery lessons. Nice description, from LPD’s perspective as Woodsy Woman teaches Posh Lady the basics of using a bow.

Is that an ominous sign at the end there or has LPD simply decided to put an arrow in her fiance’s knee?

Given the first line, now I wonder if La Prima is about to become a guard!

So Prima is going to hit the road and see the world, at least what there is around Solitude. Ah, the life of adventure!

So a hearty repast around the fire. Then some Archery practice? Cool. Time to shoot the breeze with Sid.

Hello. It snowed this week and then it snowed again in Maryland. Finally. ❄

@Acadian: I figure Laprima is in one of those phases of life like a lot of us explore during our college years. So she's got her day job, she's trying out barding, and now she's interested in weaponry. One thing she does not want to do is remain a posh noble, with nothing much to fill her days. In this respect, her aunt, difficult as she can be, agrees. Although... well. You'll see.

Oh yeah, she's also gotten involved in Alchemy/Wortcraft as well! 🧙‍♀️

Yes, that is an ominous sign toward the end. ☠


@SubRosa: Ha ha, well one thing I can promise is she won't become a guard! However she will ... um... actually, better just tell the story to find out.

Yah, she's going to see some more adventure in her life, that's for sure. Just you wait and see.


@Lopov: No Lopov.


So, a few months ago, Lena was talking about how she lost inspiration for gaming, right in the middle of her own fan-fiction & story. She was seeking advice. My advice was to actually just let it all go. Don't try to force yourself (especially with the actual gaming part) because this can mess up the inspiration part. Go do other things.

So for this past week, I had to use my own advice. Don't know what it was. Had days off and everything, due to the snow, but I just didn't feel all that inspired for gaming.

So because of this, this week's story is a shortie.

.
______________________


.Chamany's Chagrin


______________________

Sundas, 14th of Sun's Dusk, early evening


“By order of the Magistrate, stop right there!"



It was past nightfall when they finally came to him. Chamany LaCroix, partial usurper of the darkness which had claimed his lover’s heart, dashingly-handsome rogue who could sweet-talk his way out of adversity, and smuggler of a vast amount of skooma; more skooma than the province of Skyrim had ever taken delivery of in one shipment, found himself not entirely surprised when the posse of guards crowded around. This occurred just as he was making his way for a pint in Solitude’s Winking Skeever.

“What.. what is all this, then?” he’d asked. “Ça ne peut pas être. Eh, I haven’t, eh, stolen the sweetrolls of nobody!” he’d tried to joke, knowing jokes were futile.

“Afraid your troubles are much grander than a stolen sweetroll,” the watch captain scoffed. “Sir Chamany LaCroix, you are hereby under arrest, as stated from this writ in my hand, which has been handed down from the Magistrate of Solitude himself, for the unlawful possession and distributing of skooma. What say you in your defense?”

The accused already knew the words he was about to emit. He’d dwelt upon this very moment within his mind many times, over the past days and weeks, especially during odd moments of skooma-quaffing when the paranoia really kicked in.

“I say not nothing as my defense,” he stated unceremoniously, already dreading the waves of doubt and anger his arrest would cause. “So, take me to the jails, then.”

“Right, come with us,” said the captain. “I’ll take any stolen goods you’re carrying. After an undetermined-as-of-yet amount of time, you’ll then be free to go.”

The man who was supposedly from High Rock (although some disputed this, and said Solstheim was probably his origin), the man who’d claimed to have grown up poor (yet had somehow been able to afford getting into the Imperial City’s Aristocratic College, a true rags-to-riches story if one were to believe him), was then bound and hauled off, slammed behind bars made of iron. As stated, here he was to spend an unknown-as-of-yet amount of time, stewing his current predicament.

And who was to blame for his current misfortune? Who had ratted him out?

“Ach, peu importe,” he muttered in his original language, lying upon a cot filled with hay. Did the manner in which his arrest occurred even matter, at this point? Such a thing had become inevitable, after the number of skooma sicknesses, and even a couple casualties, during the past week or so. The drug Chamany and Laprima had imported into Skyrim had spread quickly. There were reports as far as Markath and Falkreath of users getting sick, requiring attention.

Fortunately, the cure for sickness, the very same potion Laprima stole from Angeline's Aromatics, was also spreading fast. Chances are this cure might not have become so widespread, had she not filched the clear liquid out of the alchemist's safe. Overall, it was looking as though the epidemic would be done within a matter of time.

Still, Chamany wondered how long he’d be in here. The fine for skooma possession was considered a misdemeanor: just forty gold. But was there a standard amount of time to imprison someone, for keeping and importing a much larger amount of illegals into the province? Here was surely a question he could ask whatever advocate would be assigned to his plight.

Better yet, what will Laprima do, when she learns of his incarceration? Was Jarl Elisif herself prone to begin thinking about deporting him out of her precious city? For sure, the upcoming marriage to the high jarl’s niece could no longer be considered. Correct?

These were the thoughts of Chamany LaCroix as he laid to rest, before being woken up an unknown amount of time later to speak to someone in front of his cell's bars.
.

Chamany arrested and locked up! Can’t say it breaks my heart. My hope is that it helps open LPD’s eyes to the loser he is and convinces her to be rid of him. He used her as an unknowing drug mule, has used her bloodline to worm his way into the palace and quite undermined her position there – leaving her compromised with the powerful court mage (and vampire). Just as his shenanigans exposed her to extortion by Woodsy Woman – only by LPD’s own merit and cunning did that turn out well instead of disastrously. How may red flags does it take? Dump him, girl!

Who is the anonymous someone outside Chamany's cell and what will Laprima do when she finds out Chamany is in jail? Those are only two of the many questions that need answering.

Uh oh, it sounds like the law is onto the charming rogue that is Chamany.

I do love his sweetroll joke!

Don't talk to cops. Always good advice when you have been arrested. Everything you say, they will find a way to use against you.

So now he's stewing in the clink. Did someone rat him out? Or were the guards just skilled enough to trace the tainted skooma back to him? I wonder if this mystery person visiting him might have the answer.

Yes, I'm here! And SubRosa, if you're reading this, I'll be catching up on Stormcrow as well, hopefully tomorrow.

So Laprima's practicing her poetry? Chamany doesn't seem too interested. I think Laprima's already outgrown him but doesn't yet realize it.

Meh, and now he's running off to drink.

Ah, Laprima's going back to the Bard's College. Good way to further expand her horizons. Oof, but her relation to Elisif definitely adds some pressure. Like it or not, she's basically part of the Empire's PR machine.

Haven't done any acting since a few high school English classes, but it can be oddly difficult to remember a handful of lines. Getting the exact words instead of using substitutes. Weirdly, memorizing Shakespeare lines might have been a bit easier since the language is distinct enough that you can't just swap it out with more modern language.

Good of Laprima to not want to take the Emilia role when someone else needed it.

Hm, Havemercy sounds like a pseudonym. I suppose we'll see.

Thirty-six gold for apples! But I guess that's what happens when every coin is gold, like in a lot of RPGs.

Ohh, overcharged. That makes more sense, and makes for a good detail.

I like how Laprima's getting more comfortable in Solitude. The north has its charms, to be sure.

Makes sense that she's itching to see the outside world. She's grown a lot in her time here, and that's apt to make one braver.

Okay, so she's committed herself to seeing Sirdasa. Hope Sirdasa's more stable now. Nice buildup of tension in finding the camp empty.

Ah, good, she's doing better!

Yeah, I agree with them: Sirdasa's probably happier in the wilds. She doesn't have the right temperament for a place like Solitude, and I always got the impression that Solitude was a bit more formal than most cities in Skyrim.

Laprima's getting ambitious here with the bow. It's a smart move: she practices a skill, and Sirdasa gets to earn the money.

Interesting facts on bow construction! Do you do any archery? I don't, but I have some friends who do (or at least used to--not sure if they're still active).

Ouch, good detail on the blisters. Learning can hurt!

Chamany's upcoming fate? This is curious...

Oof, so it looks like what happens to just about all drug dealers has happened to Chamany. I'm not surprised, but this worries me; he seems like the kind to pin the blame on Laprima if he can.

Okay, so he lined up and took his punishment. Which seems milder than RL punishment for drug smuggling.

Wondering who he'll meet next...

Acadian: That is true, plenty of red-flags. 🚩 Laprima's hard-headed, and she probably won't just dump him right away. In the long run this won't matter.

I really am glad you folks are getting into the intrigue of this story. Quite some contentious opinions. One reader loves Chamany, I myself enjoy writing him up, but most of y'all dislike the guy! But this is good. Feel like like Sir Lacroix pulls some drastic opinions.


macole: Just keep reading, Vampire Hunter. All those questions shall be answered, while new ones emerge. It's like the Jandaga in a way. Jandaga is always finding himself in awkward or demanding situations, needing to find solutions. Main diff is he's got all those others surrounding him, right?


SubRosa: Sweetrolls, mmmm... 🍪

Seems it could've been one person who ratted on him, or it could've been more like a collection of skooma suckers. It's not mentioned very well in the story, but I imagine there are people who know him better than others because they had to work with him as he got his dealings arranged. People get jealous when lots of money is involved. Other folks in town (the actual users, the 'fiends' in Baltimore parlance) who rub elbows with those who deal, might've let slip his name, or his description. Someone put it together, maybe this someone lost money or got arrested on an unrelated charge and he or she wants a lesser deal, and so on.

I'll leave some mystery there! Sometimes, mystery is good.


WellTemperedClavier: Holy tamoley, good to see you. Are you writing anything? Um, I already asked you privately. Hope so.



It does, indeed. Fortunately she tends to just shrug such things off, Laprima, that is.

Yes, that is what I've heard as well. I never got involved with acting or stagecraft but I had friends in high school and college who did. My one friend Michelle from way back echoed what you said, in so many words; it can be a lot harder than it looks. Because you have to portray those words and become them. If you're interested in being any good, that is. Anyway, good to know you've confirmed Laprima's frustration.

Lord Haaf-Mersey was one of my early characters on Xbox years ago, and he actually did join the Bard's College, so he could learn to use Speech during those few instances when the game allows us to do so. He spent a lot of money, as I recall. Here he is with his wife, Motormouth Mjoll, err, Mjoll the Lioness.



In the main table-game we used (similar to DnD but a bit more down-to-earth) in high school there were copper, silver, and gold coins. Silver was the standard.

And Now that I've noticed the price, I've seen that same price (9 coins for a single apple) in my high elf healer's game as well. 🍎 So it's not just Laprima. Eventually that price'll go down, as she picks perks in the Skills menu while leveling up. That's right, my 'toon is going to level UP this season. Hopefully several times.



I do not! But I've read plenty of Acadian posts, which discussed archery many times in the old forums we used to post in.

Some of what I wrote is also just guessing. Oak is denser than pines & firs, it's like old-world furniture compared to Ikea, for instance. I have no idea if that makes a bow more difficult to pull (but provides more of an impact) but it seems like common sense that this is how it works.



It always does in these games! X number of days... for murder, instead of X number of years. What kind of game would it be though if Life in Prison was the final outcome.

.
_________________________


.Only a Matter of Time


_________________________


Morndas, 15th of Sun's Dusk, early morn



The prisoner woke up, bleary. Took him a few moments. Rubbing his forehead a bit, he remembered where he was. In jail. Arrested, after being caught on his way to the Winking Skeever for an ordinary mug of mead. He knew he’d wind up here eventually; it was only a matter of time before those cards fell into place, n’est-ce pas le cas?

The renegade importer sighed. Glanced to his left.

Someone was on the other side of his cell.

Chamany got up, slowly stood from the cot of hay he’d been lying upon. Narrowed his eyes. Peered through the cell’s bars, only to see whoever it was striding quickly across the room.

“Oy! You there!” Chamany called.

The figure was already gone, clicking softy up some stairs. Whoever he was (for the figure definitely walked with a man’s gait), he was wearing a hood. Not that Chamany would be able to tell the difference, looking at the back of someone’s head in this semi-darkened dungeon. Chances are, the bloke was probably one of the rogues who’d been after him. Waiting for Chamany to slip up; waiting for him to be in the wrong place at the right time.

Well the good news was, Sir Lacroix was now safe from such a threat. There was no way they’d be able to get to him here. Even if they did, what could those tossers do to a man who was already behind bars, an entire garrison of bored guards waiting for any chance of mischief, any excuse to take some sort of action?!

Still, Chamany cursed his lack of foresight.

He hadn’t been able to envision these sort of outcomes months ago, while he and some cohorts were in the planning stages down in Bravil. He knew he’d gain a massive amount of wealth for sure, but hadn’t considered this would cause some folks who were in-the-know to try and wrestle this wealth away. Extortion attempts hadn’t worked; they’d tried to threaten him with blackmail, but Chamany was a stone-cold pro at such things. He’d seen worse during his years back in High Rock, and merely shrugged these messages off. Unfortunately, knowing he was a hunted man, he’d also become stuck in the town of Solitude.

“Que pouvez-vous faire?” he muttered - what can you do?

The air around him was chilly and stale. He sat back down on the cot, twiddled his thumbs. Yawned. The scent of food permeated from somewhere above. Castle Dour’s dungeon was located underground, which meant it was impossible to tell whether it was daytime, or still night.

He wondered when it’d be time for chow.





About a mile away, in more pleasant surroundings, somebody was plucking her shoulder.

“Miss?” A child’s voice. “Uh… Miss Laprima! Are you awake?”

“Hmm?” Laprima shoved herself sideways. Still half asleep, she gathered quickly out of bed like a startled cat. Where is my blade?

“Sorry to wake you, Miss Laprima! Don’t be mad!”

A young lass wearing night clothes was at her bedside, looking fretful and apologetic.

“So sorry miss! So sorry! Are you mad at me?”

“Oh. No! … No, I am not,” Laprima said as pleasantly as she could, attempting to calm herself. “You gave me quite a scare though, I must admit.” She'd seen this girl before, here and there around the Blue Palace. Assumed the girl was one of the servant’s daughters (or an orphan), for the little twerp was often zipping around, carrying this or that, clearing leftover dishware from tables and such. “Are you alright, dear? What’s your name?”

“My name’s Tricky!” the girl stated with an exuberant smile. “And I’ve been told to give you THIS.” She handed over a note. “Um. That is all! Um… see you around!”

“Wh- wait!” - Awkwardly, Laprima glanced at Tricky as the girl scrambled across the room.

“Um, one more thing,” Tricky added. “Try to get there quickly. He woke me up so I could wake you up so you could get this done before the court’s in session for the day! That is what the man told me to tell you... Right? Right. Ciao!

“Wait! Come back! Who woke you up? What man gave this to you, dear?”

But Tricky was through the door. A flash of whitened bedclothes, and the lassie was gone. So Laprima yawned, rubbed her eyes, just as her man was doing a mile away, probably at the same moment.

“Well. Chances of sleep, fallen to perhaps about null.”

Aye, it’d be hard to return back into slumber after all that commotion. What time is it, anyway?

She padded across her bedroom, barefoot. Fumbled for the 'luminosity device' which'd been placed atop a nearby barrel. This device was magical; comprised of a couple small, blue, luminous stones which Chammy paid to have installed earlier in the day. Touch your fingers on one stone, and this caused extra light to shine in the room. Touch the other, somehow the lights went away. As an extra surprise, the lights which appeared when touching the first stone were blue, as in Blue Palace. How delightful.

Daylight was not pouring yet through the windows of her bedroom; and didn’t the girl mention something about ‘getting this done’ before court was in session? So chances are, it was still nighttime. She looked to Chamany’s side of the bed. Her beau was not here, not that this was anything to fret about; half the time he’d be gone. 'Taking care of arrange-ments,' was how he usually put it.

Laprima peered at the note handed to her by Tricky…







… and nearly fell out of bed. “Nooo!” Rushed over to her wardrobe, donned herself in whatever clothes she’d just managed to grab. Shoved her feet into a pair of fur-lined boots. And ran straight out of the palace, heels clacking down the avenue past the Bard’s College, past the homes and past Solitude’s Hall of the Dead. Up the hill toward Castle Dour, while a man in a hood watched from the shadows. She had no idea where the castle’s dungeon might be located, so she spared a moment to ask one of the guards to direct her.

“Aye. Sir Chamany Lacroix, down that flight of…”

She didn’t bother to listen to the rest -- they already know his name? -- Instead she stumbled, as she literally jogged the steps downward. Her foot slipped, she nearly lost her balance. She then found herself in a large, circular room made of slippery stone. Stone... probably igneous, probably polished basalt; a distracted thought surfacing from her studious architecture days. There were sconces of fire along the walls, but the place was rather dark. But of course it would be; she was now in an actual dungeon.

“Chamany!” she shrieked, almost hoping there’d not be an answer, hoping that none of this was true.

“Oi, Laprima. I am here.” Even from somewhere across the room, her man sounded resigned. Defeated. Embarrassed.

She guessed a few of the alcoves (there were several of them to walk into) before she found a set of stairs which led downward. Ah, here's where all the cells are. After a few more guesses, she found the correct one. The pair then commenced stringent conversation from across the set of bars which had been slammed and locked several hours earlier. What to do about this awful situation, and what could be done? Apparently not much, not until her man received a visit from one of Solitude’s legal advocates, at least.





And now the questions began. Would the guards come after Laprima as well? Was she therefore under suspicion for the virtual piles of skooma she’d brought into the province? But I did not know of my involvement! her mind protested. If she had known, surely she wouldn’t have committed herself to such a felony.

“Oh dregs-forth!” She slapped a hand upon each side of her face, across from her incarcerated man.

"What is it?"

“Should it be that now I shall get sent back to Cyrodiil?” she worried.

She’d wanted none of this. Her original plan for the day was to get up early, hours before her shift at the tavern began. She’d grab her new shortbow, along with the twenty-odd arrows given to her by Sirdasa. She'd then get a few shots into the training dummies located around Castle Dour’s exterior plaza. She imagined herself, proudly congratulated by one of the early-morning sentries, after loosing one of those arrows straight into the dummy.

Thunk! it’d go.

“Nice shot there!” the guards would say.

– And they wouldn’t know who she was, wouldn’t know that Jarl Elisif’s niece was up here practicing her marksmanship, merely because she'd discovered this newfound activity to be a challenge, but also satisfying. Laprima would make sure to disguise her aristocratic face with a hood, shrouding from recognition. She'd discharge all twenty of the arrows given to her by the shrew, fingers protected this time by a pair of gloves. Most of them would miss, but surely she'd manage to shoot a few of them into the poor dummy. ... *Thunk!* ... *Thonk!!* ...She’d then head to the Skeever, make fifty or sixty coins, and end the day over her usual bowl of soup and bread, listening to Lisette wail, or strum her lute to whatever evening crowd sauntered in.

“Do not, eh, concern yourself with me,” Chamany tried to soothe. “I am fine. Better than fine. Perhaps it is for the best that I find myself in here.”

An odd detail: he was still wearing ordinary clothes. Weren't they supposed to store those away, forcing arrestees into rags?

He did not tell her about the hooded person who’d briefly made visit outside his cage, not at this moment, anyway. Such things, he decided, Laprima did not need to know. For one thing, they did not seem to be stalking her. They hadn't sent their silly extortion notes to her, droit?

Laprima: "You seem much more complacent than I, at least."

"Ah, well if I am in here, I cannot find to make myself into more trouble, eh?" was Chamany's answer. "Besides, there are things, that I cannot, eh, with to tell to explain, Laprima. Better you not know these things."

This explanation may have worked in the past, but now she was done with his excuses. "WHAT things?" she demanded, pounding the bars. "Why cannot you ever tell me what's occurring in your miniscule world, Cham?" Her voice was carrying, echoing all over the chamber. Thing is, there are others in here. Others who could hear every word she was saying.

And this caused him to finally take pause. "Alright, shhh mon cher!" he whispered. "We must keep the voice down. And now as you are angry, I shall try now explain."

His fiancé crossed her arms.

"Guess I should say to you that yes, there are men. They come around and after me. They place me notes. They want my coin. And I must protect... I cannot just give in to the men. Tu sais, Laprima?"

She nodded. "Aye. Continue, please." Her voice was lower.

He then expanded on several things he'd mentioned before, things about his side of the business; where he disappeared to on occasion, and so on. When Laprima suggested she could give them her money, all of it if need be, Chamany sneered, a rare moment when he finally lost his temper. Such a thing would not be not be in her favor; they didn't know about her side of things, he promised. It was better that she not place herself into unnecessary jeopardy, lest she too wind up locked in Castle Dour.

"Maybe it is that you are right," she admitted after some more discourse. Maybe it was time to wash her hands of all of this. ...This dark, lowlife, criminal element she'd become involved with. She had actual positive things going for her, after all: her work, the upcoming play, and her brand-new toy which fired arrows through the air. Archery seemed as though it could become a great stress-relief, actually.

"Now it is I shall say to you that you go," Chamany said. "Go! Do not fret for me, Laprima. The palace court, it will soon open."

Before long court would be in session. Lady Elisif would be informed of his arrest, probably in a grand way with some crier taking the floor, announcing to the jarl, the steward, and all the others that Sir Chamany was now in jail. The outcome of that scene, it would not be pretty. Their upcoming marriage, it could not ever happen. Not here in Solitude, anyway. Laprima and Cham both knew this instinctively. There wasn't ever any discussion on the topic, though.

"Probably best if you just... try to make your day like it's nothing," he suggested lamely, breaking eye-contact. Unsure what else to say. "And may-be, it is nothing. May-be the advocate shall find me a way out of here..." he said, mostly to himself. "But not today. In fact, it is for..."

"...the best that you stay locked in here. Yes. This you have mentioned several times, dear."

Hmm.

By the time their fretful conversation ended, it seemed hours had passed. Hard to tell. Laprima eventually left Castle Dour, dreading her return to the palace. The sky was (of course) pouring rain as she walked the avenue.

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

Laprima's room now has a working Light Switch!

*Click*

Tricky

Behind Bars
.

Ironic that Chamany claims to want to protect Laprima from harm, yet placing both her person and her reputation in harm is the logical and foreseeable result of his actions. Not to mention the awkward position it seems that Lady Elisef will be in. Despite her clouded judgement, I do find myself admiring Laprima for her loyalty.

Tricky - neat character and concept. In Summerset back in the Second Era, Buffy found herself performing with a stage company called House of Reveries. They all had names like that; the troop’s leader was named Alchemy for instance. Names of some of the other members included Adagio, Candlelight, Clever, Firebird, Quill and Tableau. Buffy was given the name Feather.

So Chamany is stewing in the slam. He seems to have expected this to happen eventually. I wonder if he has any plans on getting out?

I am going to guess that mysterious note-sender is the same hooded figure that Chamany saw from his cell.

I am afraid your note was so small that I could not read it, even when I magnified it. But I get that the gist of it is that Chamany is in prison.

So LaPrima knows what is going on, at least somewhat. Will she get herself involved in this little crime war I wonder?

@Paladin: Ironic that Chamany claims to want to protect Laprima from harm, yet placing both her person and her reputation in harm is the logical and foreseeable result of his actions.

True. Basically all he wanted when they were down in Cyrodiil was to get rich, but beyond that, and beyond making sure to get the goods up to Skyrim, he did not consider the consequences. Didn't think that he'd get thrown in jail, that his actions would put his very own girlfriend into risk, and so on.

I was going to do a chapter on his past, ya know, his upbringing and so on. In this past we find out that he did not come from money. And so I think (in his mind) he was expecting that once he gave her all this money, and also is now in the Upper Class due to his share of the funds, that she would be impressed by this.

Truth is (concerning a chapter on him) I already won't have time to delve into it. Because there's already too many ideas clamoring around for future chapters until May of 2024. But if ppl want, I can do a partial chapter if it's requested.

Nice, that sounds neat about the names in Buffy's troupe. Tricky's got a sister named Risky. 💇


@Florens: Ah, it's Laprima. The P is lower-case. That'd be like if I called your main character StormCrow, right?

MM hmm, I noticed that about the note, oops! A lot of work goes into Laprima's story, twice as much as Joan's. With Joanie all I'm doing is following the quests of Morrowind, focusing on the Main Quest most of all. I get into my character's thoughts, adding stuff from her point of view, do some random gaming to satisfy my gaming addiction for the day, and it's done.

With Laprima I'm writing & editing the story (double or triple drafts) but also writing the quests behind the story. Most of the dialog actually takes place, and it's all backed up with quests. On top of this the Creation Kit is a BEE-ATCH to work with. It's like wrestling a snake, sometimes. Any new idea I've got for Oblivion or Fallout for instance, (such as Cho entering Springvale School and going nuts on the raiders), I already know how to implement those ideas. If I don't, it doesn't take long before I find a way.

Well with the Creation Kit, ANY new idea I've got, it's a 90% surefire guarantee there'll be some sort of problem. An example: At the end of Sirdasa's dialog there was a script which was supposed to teleport Cham into the prison cell. So of course my 'toon gets there, finds the correct cell (I marked it by putting a beehive outside his bars) and guess what? No Chamany! Where the heck is he? This meant I had to go all the way back to Sirdasa's lines, walk Laprima from the huntress camp into Solitude, and so on. I had to do this at least 3x. Turns out it was my fault. I forgot to change his AI! Doh.

Another example was Sirdasa. I tried to make her into a trainer, so that she would actually train my gal to get better with Marksman, and maybe also Sneak. Followed a tutorial on YouTube (that in itself took a couple hours) and guess what ? Sirdasa's got absolutely no dialog for training. Which is especially annoying because making a trainer for Oblivion is so gosh-darn easy. Literally make an AI package, and then toggle Offers Services on, and set them to be a trainer. Make sure they've got a Class appropriate for the job (such as MarksmanTrainer) Boom it's done.

So the note being illegible... that's a minor thing. I saw that note, thought to myself, "should I go back and fix that?" but by that point I've put 10 or 12 hours into the story, it's already posted. Got other things to do today, and so on.

Sorry, I probably overexplained.

So Chamany is stewing in the slam. He seems to have expected this to happen eventually. I wonder if he has any plans on getting out?

Absolutely not. He's content where he is for now.

The mysterious note-sender could've been the same guy, or maybe not. There's definitely more than one of them.

So LaPrima knows what is going on, at least somewhat. Will she get herself involved in this little crime war I wonder?

Heh!

.
______________________________

.The Onslaught of Whiterun

______________________________

There is no adequate way to describe the trepidation she felt, as she traipsed her way through falling rain towards the Blue Palace. Her man imprisoned, fears of being forcibly removed from Solitude, only to return to her father, who’d then disown his very own daughter, due to her getting involved in yet another set of mishaps, this time far away from home. Importing skooma into the northern province? She’d be on her own, surely.

As it turned out, none of these fears were to come to fruition. Let us peruse...



Morndas, 15th of Sun's Dusk, mid-morning


It was the commotion from above which first caught her attention.

Laprima entered the palace, and then halted her steps. Shouting. Someone at the top of the stairs was shouting.

At first, she mistook this belligerence, thinking their discourse was being waged about her. – They’d learned of Chamany’s fate; Chamany Lacroix had been locked away for an immense set of crimes, and was soon to be tried and fated. Lady Donnaugh assumed they were arguing about this set of circumstances as they pertained to her: some of them wishing to see her gone (they’d somehow discovered she was involved), while others were arguing her innocence. After pausing a minute or so, listening to conversation droning downwards from the court, the Heartlander realized they were discussing something else entirely.

“No!” Elisif’s voice from above, strained and haughty. “I deign to agree on that matter…”

“We know a small contingent of Stormcloaks are already camped outside our city walls,” boomed a male voice with a Colovian accent, which Laprima did not recognize. “Especially as Whiterun has definitely been sacked. The battle for Whiterun is through, milady. The Sons and Daughters of Skyrim shall be heading here full-force within due time. Jarl Balgruuf has surely been dethroned, his family and court possibly imprisoned…. Or worse.”

Laprima’s skin prickled at this bit of news, a rash of goosebumps upon her arms, the zing of adrenaline coursed her veins. She took a cautious step forward, her left boot upon the lowermost stair.





“We cannot accept an increase of population here in Solitude,” spoke another voice from above. “As our soldiers shall need to arrange themselves properly to block the town’s gates…. With all due respect Elisif, you have no say in the matter.”

“But I CAN enforce these very terms,” Elisif countered. “I am Solitude’s jarl, for Julianos’ sake! And Dragon Bridge is just down the road. Should only take a day, less than a day, to guide them all behind safe walls. I wish to offer Commander Maro the choice to evacuate the entire village. This way, they are safe from the additional troops which shall inevitably invade their unwalled locale.”

“Nay. General Tullius shall place the decisive vote. We are at war, which means Tullius is now at the helm. You have no say.”

Laprima bristled. Recalled a moment of opinion she’d recently heard, spoken aloud by a Solitude guard: Lady Elisif is merely a puppet. A figurehead. Everyone knows it’s General Tullius who’s really in chahhg of Solitude.

“Tullius is at the helm of the military side of things,” Elisif snarled. “I still have rule over the administration of Solitude’s peoples, and the well-being of Haafingar’s ordinary citizens. Says so right in the charter drawn up by my late husband, along with the rest of Skyrim’s jarls…”

By now Laprima had emerged at the top of the stairs, standing bashfully to one side. Someone had set a table into the center of the court, and upon this table was a map of Skyrim.

Despite the ruckus, Elisif was still sitting upon her throne, which was a sign of confidence, a sign that she was refusing to lose composure. Before her was a group of three of Solitude’s soldiers, one of whom had metallic armor which was decorated in such a way (with crests and such) that he seemed to be the one appointed to deliver Tullius’s message.





Laprima stood still a moment, and then paced right to the middle of the floor beside the soldiers, obvious and waiting for the hammer to fall. This was the moment when conversation would shift. Laprima, glad you have joined us, her aunt would say in that peculiar sort of way, which indicated niece was about to take a dressing-down like none ever seen before. Furlongs of trouble, that's how much trouble she was in. Wish to make any comment about the ongoings of your soon-to-wed fiancé, while I am smack in the middle of dealing with the onslaught of Whiterun?

… And really, the signs had all been there, right from the start. When she’d first walked into town, during her very first moments inside Solitude’s gate, what had occurred? Well she’d witnessed an execution, that is what. The execution of a man named Roggvir, beheaded just a minute or two after she’d strode into the plaza. Which was a sign! - A sign that her experience here in Skyrim was ultimately doomed, just as she was getting situated into town.

… But Elisif said nothing on the matter of Chamany. “Welcome to the court, niece,” she smiled. “As you can see, things are a bit constrained. Trying to … come to some sort of solution.”

“You have no say in the matter,” the soldier with the crests on his armor repeated. “Tullius has the final decision…”

“...Regarding the military itself,” Elisif reiterated. “And I shall ignore any attempts to stomp my decision down. I am sending a representative of this court on the morrow. Regardless if Tullius approves, or not.”

“You shall do no such thing!”

“All I need is someone willing to head to Dragon Bridge,” she ignored the soldiers.

.......I’ll go.

“Bearclaw!” Elisif glanced left, toward the court’s official housecarl. “On the morrow, it shall be you who shall represent this court.”

........“I shall go….”

“Ah, but Lady Elisif, tomorrow it is Tirdas,” Bolgeir Bearclaw began to protest. “And, ehm, as you know, on the day of Tirdas I am always roted of payment and the necessary kneadings of palace guards, disciplinary measures, and such…and…”

...........“I will go.”

“Bolgeir, how dare you!!!” Lady Elisif, her voice carrying and echoing all through the chambers… “How dare you disobey! This is a direct order from your leader!”

.............“I shall go.”

”WHAT?"

All their voices, all clustered together in unison, as Lady Donnaugh stepped into their circle.

“I shall go,” she offered quietly. "To Dragon Bridge, that is. I shall be the one, if you shall have me put forth this delicate message."

A moment of pure, intense silence followed. The sort of silence which is so absolute, it seems there’s deafening noise within such silence. Even the devices which droned soothing music from places unseen throughout the palace paused their magical song.

“I am speaking out of turn, I know this,” Elisif’s niece said bashfully. “But I am also blood. A direct relative of Solitude’s jarl, possibly High Queen someday.” Laprima breathed in. Breathed out. “And I wish to be involved. I have witnessed some royal dealings down in Cyrodiil during my youth; I know how such things are to commence…”

Also, I have already been halfway upon the road to Dragon Bridge, I know how to get there, she almost said, referring to her secret journeys out of town. But at the last moment, she decided not to add this statement.

And NOW would be the moment of truth. NOW would be the juncture when the court’s scribe, writing the words (shorthand-style) which occurred each and every day the Blue Palace court was in session into a large stiff-bound ledger, would record the moment when Jarl Elisif was to reprimand her younger relative, far beyond shame and embarrassment, right in front of the entire roomful of observers.

“Hmm. You wish to represent this court, and defy these nitwits before me? You wish, basically, to take upon the role of ambassador? So be it,” Elisif said decisively, snapping her fingers. “So it shall be done. Opheillia, draw up the contract,” she ordered the court’s scribe with a gesture. “On the morrow, it shall be my niece, Laprima Anne Donnaugh, who shall make the journey to Dragon Bridge.”

“Ooh, General Tullius shall surely not approve…” the soldier with the important armor-crests began.

“FUDDLES TO TULLIUS!” the jarl screamed in a high-pitched voice, making most of the court jump and wince. “Tullius has no say in how I run MY city, Rolfgear! The journey to Dragon Bridge takes less than a day. The road is well-soldiered, and well-guarded from riff-raff. On top of this, I shall assign a guard or two to assist Laprima from Solitude to Dragon Bridge. My decision has been made, even if it is in contrast to the wishes of Castle Dour. This is final. That is all!”

“But, heeh….”

Laprima, now flabbergasted. All that concern, and all that worry, all for naught. It was as though now She was the betty netch, unexpectedly-deflated, fallen right to the ground so its gas could leak into the atmosphere. She breathed a sigh of relief as her auntie stepped off. “We’ll have words with Tullius,” they promised, stomping down the palace’s entry staircase.

Lady Elisif moved decisively off her throne, and toward her chambers, while the rest of the court adjourned. Chances are, Solitude’s jarl needed a break; sovereign leaders of enormous populaces are mere people, too. She rushed to her chambers, probably so she could re-powder her face, re-perfume her clothing, and simply take a few breaths in privacy.

Laprima Donnaugh also breathed her own set of sighs, before feeling a hand fall upon her shoulder.

“Pure luck, that these unfortunate affairs with should Whiterun occur, just as you're striding into court,” Falk Firebeard, Solitude’s red-bearded thane muttered in her ear.

“Huh, but why?” Laprima feigned.

“We all know about Chamany,” Firebeard cheekly-winked. “Were it not for that episode, you’d be embroiled within Wrath of Elisif for sure!”

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

Falk delivers the harsh news
.

Oh my, it looks like Chamany and his escapades have taken a back seat to current events, and what current events they are! Whiterun sacked? The peasants are revolting! Laprima (got it right that time, I keep thinking of it like "La" in Spanish, where it means "The". So "La Prima" would mean "The First") might have bigger things to worry about than being sent back to Cyrodiil.

It certainly sounds like quite the row they are having over strategy and whether to evacuate the civilians from Dragon Bridge to Solitude. On one hand it is admirable to want to shield them from harm. On the other adding to the population at the beginning of a siege will only strain logistics even more.

A further wrinkle is that if Tullius does not defend Dragon Bridge, then there will not be a battle there. Ergo, its civilians would theoretically not be in danger. I say theoretically because I don't know how bloodthirsty the Stormcloaks are in your tale. Are they the type to go on a looting and killing spree in a captured town? Or not? If #1, then yes, they need to go to Solitude. If #2, they are probably safer in Dragon Bridge rather than moving to a city that is likely going to be the location of a major battle. It is complicated.

And Laprima pulls a Frodo at the Council of Elrond. She will go to Mordor and cast the ring into the mountain of fire. Though she knows not the way.

“FUDDLES TO TULLIUS!”
I loved this!

I also loved her comparison of herself to a netch, deflated of gas.




A nit:
Everyone knows it’s General Tullius who’s really in chahhg of Solitude
You had a minor misspelling of charge.

A bold move on Laprima’s part. Gets her out of Solitude for awhile and IF all goes well scores some points with Lady Elisif and her court.