That's the wonderful thing about being on PC, macole. One of the first things I sensed Joan wanting was somebody to travel with, and I quickly found a mod to support this. Initially she chose a guard for protection. I did not know there'd also be some "pretend roleplay" moments as well.

I did the same Limeware Bowl quest 2 or 3 years ago with Sir Galarad on Xbox. No guard can follow us without mods, but this was okay, since we can still bash locks in the vanilla game. Galarad simply smashed his way in! But it would feel incorrect for do-gooder Joan to do it like this.


I love Speechcraft, Acadian. Speechcraft is like clickbait for me in this game. I love clicking Persuasion and then Admire with NPC after NPC in Joan's world. She's at the point where over half the time, she gets positive results. But we also have to be careful, because some people immediately take a dislike to Joan. If Disposition gets below 40 as she's Speeching with them, that becomes a slippery slope downward with some NPCs.


Thank you, dear Rosa. I appreciate your words, because the Nine are very important to my pious go-getter. She is all about those Nine. ♥

No, not stole! Recovered. There that's better.


I can totally see Hauk getting into it with those floating balloons with tentacles, Lena. 🦄 But wow, the entire town of Gnaar Mok got involved. That's so awesome Hauk got the credit anyway!


Exactly, Clavier, in Oblivion we've definitely got more control over Speech as we try to influence people. OB allows the greater possibilities of roleplay because of this, imo. We can make people hate us, but we can also just as easily make them like us.

In ES3, it's easiest to make them hate us. Speech is harder in Morrowind, but I liken this to the fact that it's a harsher place overall. You know, like if we go into some countries here on Earth for instance, there are some places which we'd possibly be treated with disrespect, suspicion, etc, by most of its residents.

Hla Oad and Gnaar Mok are really similar, this is true. 👍

13 Frost Fall (Day 59), 3rd Era, Year 427

The Imperial Legion

Location: Gnisis


"We could use a few recruits here in the Deathshead Legion garrison. See General Darius."

An orc clad in armor tells Joan this, and this orc is the first person she meets in the town of Gnisis. Finally, she can attempt to join the Imperial Legion, which she has been wanting to do for months now. Ironically, she’d been sent to this town by one of her Imperial Cult superiors to collect some sort of special muck. She had completely forgotten that Gnisis is the town where the legion can be joined.

"Many thanks for your time. And where might I inquire in regards to joining?"

The orc repeats what he just said – "We could use a few recruits here in the Deathshead Legion garrison. See General Darius, " – causing Joan a moment of embarrassment.

"I do apologize. It has been a rough journey," she explains to the orc. "Fetid onslaughts of bandits, and strange creatures do inhabit the countryside…"

Indeed. Joan and her guard spent several days traveling from Gnaar Mok to Gnisis, facing enemy after enemy head-on. Joan's guard had a silver sword which broke while fighting a bandit. And Joan herself stretched the limit of her magics as she'd struggled to heal herself, and find places to rest in the middle of nowhere. Her supply of potions and food had waned quite a bit as well.

On top of this, she and her guard (the same guard she had ‘recruited’ from Fort Moonmoth) had not been getting along. After many weeks of close quarters and open travel, occasionally she’d try to converse or inquire or compliment, and he would snap at her. "I haven't got all day, you know," he’d say occasionally. Another favorite quip: “What is it now?”

"I do appreciate all that you’ve done, as you’ve maintained unbidden duty concerning my pursuits,” she finally tells him, as both of them wander into Gnisis's outdoor market. “But now, as we’ve re-entered upright society, I must impart one final request. Sir? You are freed of my companionship. Have you have found your fortune along the way?" she asks. "You have. As well, you have conquered. You have engaged your adventures. And righted wrongs. And now, I bid you farewell."

There. It is done. Err...

"Many apologies for leading you astray from your post back at Moonmoth."

"Good bye," her guard says. Just two words. And now it is done.

Within an hour she locates General Darius, who oddly does not stay within Deathshead Garrison; she finds him in the lowest floor of Madach Tradehouse, which seems to be Gnisis’s all-purpose networking hub. Why does Darius live here, and not the town’s proper fort? Perhaps he has stationed himself in the Tradehouse for some sort of strategic reason.



"Are you here to join the Imperial Legion?" Darius asks Joan, after she speaks to him with confidence.

These are the words she’d been wanting to hear weeks ago, first in Pelagiad, then in Fort Moonmoth. "Yes. I am here to enlist. And I seek whatever notion of employ might be factored by the Legion, sir." .... She knows she’s got both of the requirements preferred in new recruits: the ability to endure long-lasting, physical pursuits, and abilities to speak, sway, and persuade others.

And just like that, Joan Marie of Cyrodiil becomes a member of the Imperial Legion. Why has it been so important for her to join? She's not entirely sure, yet. Perhaps it’s because the guards and soldiers stationed throughout Vvardenfell remind her of home. Or perhaps she senses that most of all, it’s the legion which shall provide the greatest calling for her.

– Being a part of the Imperial Cult, for instance, has been mostly a cerebral effort. She has (so far) become a completionist of errands for superiors within the Cult. It makes her feel good to collect tithes, locate stolen objects, and fetch random ingredients for them. But these are minor efforts, not really part of any grander schemes. She has (so far) barely felt the glory of The Nine as she’s participated in Imperial Cult activities.

– Being a part of the Fighters Guild has sent her off to several locations. But as the name of the guild suggests, ultimately it is fighting she then becomes involved with. Being a fighter ultimately means being a killer. Though she is not adverse to bringing someone down, especially if that 'someone' gives her no other choice, killing also contradicts Joan's motivations and personal beliefs.

– And then there are the Blades, which she’s also supposedly a member of. Dealing with Caius Cosades has caused her to follow a series of vague pursuits, of which she’s not entirely sure about. She's sensed that the Divines themselves might wish for her to be part of the Blades, but taking orders from a known user of skooma?

With the Imperial Legion, Joan hopes to make some sort of immediate difference. She attains the rank of Recruit. She is also given a cuirass of chainmail, which she is to wear whenever she's appearing in any official capacity as a representative of the Legion.

She receives her very first quest, which (honestly) bothers her a bit. She is to go find a Dunmer lady named Vabdas, who owns a farm just outside of town, and has recently been widowed. She is then supposed to convince the lady to give up her land. "Get me that land deed," General Darius commands of Joan, "and don't take 'no' for an answer."

The Legion’s newest recruit discovers that she does not like Darius’s tone, which is arrogant and forthright. How can he demand this of somebody who's experienced such recent suffering? Things seem off to a bad start.

But, Joan also decides she'd like to find Widow Vabdas anyway, and speak to her. Maybe all of this can be resolved in some other way.

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

Note: I did this quest on Xbox a couple years ago with Sir Galarad, who simply carried out his orders, without any of the conflicting thoughts Joan is having.

Honestly, I don't want to join a legion called "Deathshead". Sounds kind of sus, considering other military units that have shared that same name.

Maybe it is time for Joan to go beyond having a guard shadow her? I guess it is. Maybe she should learn some summoning spells if she wants someone else to help in a fight?

I think Joan might find the Vabdas quest a little more to her liking than it first appears. As I recall, there is an opportunity to do some good there. More than just killing some rats or re-stealing recovering kitchenware.

Joan get to Gnisis and lets her guard go. Was he a Legion guard? If so, he seems rather weak in the speechcraft department.

And that orc Legionaire seems a bit short in that department as well since he offers no info on General Darius of a locational nature. But she finds him nonetheless.

Interesting reflections as Joan shares her assessments of the Imperial Cult and Fighters Guild – hoping the Legion is an improvement.

She gets her wish of joining the Legion only to be handed a rather questionable quest. It’ll be interesting to she what she encounters at widow Vabdas’ farm.

Playing Morrowind can be a lot like real life sometimes, in the sense that it's really hard to find a good job that you can tolerate. And it seems like Joan's run into this as well. Predictably, each faction lets her down in a unique way. It's also good to see Joan's particular critiques. Caius does seem pretty sketchy (though maybe that's, realistically speaking, inevitable for spies).

I'm still enjoying the way you incorporate the stilted in-game dialogue. Highlights how odd a lot of it actually sounds.

It's never been clear to me exactly how the Empire organizes its legions. Probably something Bethesda never put serious thought into. Like saying the Deathshead Legion is in Gnisis makes it sound like it's more of a garrison, given that Gnisis isn't that big of a town. Do we then assume that Balmora, Pelagiad, Ald'ruhn, Ebonheart, and Sadrith Mora all have legions of their own? I'm probably overthinking this.

Plus, I just like Gnisis. It's one of the game's more distinct towns.

That's true. Deathshead Garrison. What a name! Yeah, let's get right to the point, here.

Oh no, Rosa. No conjuring for Joanie! Foul, smelly, dead things! One of my other characters, Hera Tyych, is quite the conjurer. Conjuring undead is pretty much her default "answer" to most enemies she comes across. ... Joan sees conjuring as an act of Eeeeeeeeevil though.

YES, the Vabdas quest is SO AWESOME! I really am pleased by how it turns out. ⚔ We'll get to it in a minute.


Yes, Acadian, he was a Legion Guard. Actually Joan usually has a pretty good Disposition to guards. Those two just spent too much time together. In a way, it's just like real people who get on each others nerves after awhile.

I loved writing assessment of all the guilds and factions she's a part of. Really enjoyed that part.


Joan of Cyrodiil is just hard to please, Clavier!

Thanks (in regards to the in-game dialog). I mostly use use the standard dialog found in the game for this story. For other stories (like Laprima) I write half the dialog into in-game quests.

Yes, Gnisis is a nice off-the-way town. Very clean. No ash storms. All the facilities we'd ever need, pretty much. 👁‍🗨 Yes, you are right, the Empire is being very heavy-handed into this part of the world.

Well you know, there is a certain mod out there that allows you to summon animals, rather than undead or daedra...

Sure, I'll take a look at that mod, hon. And if you know of anything which modifies body morphing, too. Joan's supposed to be a B-cup at most. Yet another Lara Croft syndrome with her...

I hope this next chapter isn't too long. I was about to break it up as I was editing last night. But that would disturb the flow.


Chapter XXV: The Plight of Widow Vabdas


22 Frost Fall (Day 68)




Joan had yearned for her chance to join the Legion. And now that she's in, she’s finding the organization’s first assignment for her to be questionable. Find a recently widowed lady named Vabdas, and convince the widow to give up her land.

Before signing on as a new recruit, she’d had a few ideas for what might become her first task. Maybe she’d be stationed at Fort Darius for a while. Maybe she’d be told to keep a night’s watch of the town for a week. In her most dramatic fantasies, maybe she’d be sent off to rescue some poor hostage. Or go on a mission to cure a village of sickened natives. – But being demanded to force some poor lady from her land? – Not at all what she expected.

Fortunately for Joan, there's a story (an explanation) as to why Vabdas had recently been widowed. The lady tells her tale to Joan Marie, a devotee who is always ready to listen.

Apparently, the reason why her husband, whose name is Mansilamar, died has something to do with an eggmine, located right here in Gnisis. The widow suggests that the answer to Mansilamar's death might somehow free her from General Darius's greedy land-grab. "Go to the eggmine," she says in a trembling voice, "and find the truth."

“I shall do so,” Joan promises. “Your plight shall come to redemption.”

With these words, she heads off to locate the Gnisis Eggmine, with her new guard companion in tow.

... One hour later…

"Do I know you?"

An officer asks this as Joan and her guard approach the mine.

“I am Joan Marie of Cyrodiil. I am Darius's newest recruit. And I have come to make inquiries regarding the death of–"

“Shhh!” the officer cautions. "Since you're in the Legion, I can give you a key to the mine,” he says, handing her one. “But be careful."

"I see,” Joan says, her voice quieter. “Widow Vabdas says her husband met his demise within this mine. Might you have any notions pertaining–?"

"I already gave you the key," the officer glares. "Now get lost before they see us talking!"

“Right.”

She realizes the officer's trying to warn her. Whatever occurred in there had been a messy situation it seems, now requiring a delicate approach. Joan backs away from him. She readies her new Light spell within her mind, says a quick prayer, and walks right in.


Early Evening
Once inside the eggmine she tells her new guard to wait, while she forges ahead. Anything too dangerous, all she'll need to do is fall back. The place is populated by eggminers of course, all who dole their own stern warnings. But they allow Joan to explore.

The mine splits into two paths: an upper section and a lower one. A thin layer of mist hangs in the air, with the scent of damp earth pervading. Joan delves downward, as she senses this is the way toward any answers. After a walk of 50 meters or so, she comes to a banner, hanging from the mine's stone ceiling. The banner has a glyph painted upon its surface. Due to her past schooling (particularly a class she’d attended in Morrowind’s history) Joan is able to discern it displays the Dunmeri glyph for ‘Danger’.

Undeterred, she presses on, deeper into the cave. Eventually she comes to a three-way intersection, with one branch leading to a door. Her guard is now far behind. Joan of Cyrodiil walks to the door. Opens it, and walks into a darkened passageway.


Mid-evening

"You're not supposed to be in here," a large and muscular male orc says as soon as she walks in. "I'm-a gonna count to ten. And if YOU still here when I am done, you gonna be in BIG trouble!"

Joan notices the orc wears an Imperial Legion cuirass with all the correct regalia. He is therefore not an eggminer, he is a sworn member of the same organization she is. Despite this, he refuses to listen to words. So she decides to heed his threats, for now. Perhaps any clues to Widow Vabdas's husband's death can be found elsewhere in the mine.

… So she goes back to the intersection, and searches the eggmine's remaining portions. But there's nothing suspicious to find. No corpse, no recent bloodstains, no items bearing Mansilamar's name. All she sees are more miners, more kwama foragers, and of course, more egg pods. She speaks to a few miners, none of whom are forthcoming with information.

She’s going to need some assistance. The orc she’d met not only threatened her, he probably outranks her. And it’s this fact alone that causes her to return to the mine's entrance to fetch her guard.

Back inside the passage with the burly, threatening orc, she walks with more confidence. Steps right to the bully, who warns her a second time.

“I have been given a task to inquire and scrutinize the recent death of one of this mine’s workers,” she tells him. “You must allow us to pass.”

Again he gives her ten seconds, after which he brandishes his axe, and starts swinging. Bad idea! With the more-experienced guard now at her side, the orc himself doesn't last ten seconds! … *Bang.* *Crash!* *Bang.* Joan’s guard swipes and stabs the threat with his shiny silver sword, while Joan bashes with her mace. Surely if she had taken him on by herself, the fight would have lasted much longer.

“Such a shame it had to come to this…”

Exactly. Why was it necessary to brawl about this, and come to blows? Again, she’s been forced into combat, which seems (to her) could have been avoided. She senses this whole situation with Widow Vabdas has something amiss. Something not right here. And it is her aim to correct whatever wrongs have been committed.

The mine contains other dangers. Joan and her guard are attacked again, this time by kwama warriors, three of them in total! These beasts shoot bolts of lightning as they attack! Within seconds (and despite her Bretonic ability to partially resist magic), Joan's health is failing. She must leave the fray to rush into the mine's previous passage. She quickly heals herself while her guard clashes and screams with the monsters! – Once she has done so, she bravely rushes back, readying her new ‘holy flames’ spell for battle. – But the spell is not needed. Just after she casts the first blast, her guard skewers the two remaining warriors.

Adrenaline, it surges within her! But she mustn’t become impatient, she must not lose her temperance. She takes a few moments to calm herself with thoughts of Arkay, the Aedric Lord associated with mortality, birth, and death, before setting off again. Arkay, the God of Cheydinhal’s chapel, where she had spent so much time in her youth, shall sort all wrongdoings from here.

Deeper into the mine, they arrive at a door marked Eggmine Streams, which they open and walk through. Once inside, Joan suddenly hears a voice.



It's the voice of a Dunmer man.



As always, Joan Marie of Cyrodiil takes the time to listen. "Please, speak thy words." Are these words being spoken by Mansilamar Vabdas himself?

She peers into the darkness before her, to see if somebody's playing a trick. Maybe one of the eggminers is trying to have a little fun. But nobody physical is here. Eventually she's able to see the figure of a spirit, floating about 10 feet ahead.



..."I came to the mines to get fresh kwama eggs for my family," the voice continues, from what seems to be another world. "Lugrub gro-Ogdum was sleeping, and I snuck past him. When I found enough eggs, I went back the way I came. Only this time, Lugrub was awake. He murdered me, so that no one would know he had failed in his duty."

"Continue, please," the Legion's newest recruit urges. From her perspective, it sounds as if the ghost's voice is being spoken through a tunnel, even as Mansilamar floats just in front of her.

..."He dropped the broken axe he used to kill me next to my body, in the water behind me."

Joan looks past the floating apparition for a moment, peering to see if any water is nearby. The path before her slopes downward. And surely, there is a pool another thirty feet or so.

"Take the axe from the water, and use it as proof of Lugrub's crimes."

The Cyrodiilian flashes a quick smile into darkness. For it looks as though she's going to attain what the widow informed her about: a chance to avenge Mansilamar's murder. Maybe even gain sympathy for his wife from the Imperials. Perhaps if she does all of this, General Darius will be more lenient about his quest for new territory.

There's just one problem: Joan Marie of Cheydinhal never learned how to swim!

Cheydinhal, one of the few towns in Cyrodiil which does not have a large body of water nearby. Sure, her home was partially surrounded by a moat, but the moat’s water was fetid. Nobody went in there, as moats are designed to keep invaders out.

But she is a brave one. "Wait here," she commands her new guard. She does not know how to swim, so now's the time for some quick lessons! "Let Stendarr guide my path."

She walks a few meters down the slope, and places her rucksack, belt, and weapons on the ground. She then begins removing her armor pieces: helmet, gauntlets, boots, and cuirass. Snaps unfastened and clasps undone. One thing she knows about water: heavy pieces of leather and iron will only drag her down. She cannot help but feel a bit shy about this, even as her back is turned. There's no room for privacy, and now is not the time for modesty. Joan considers removing her leg armor, then changes her mind. Her guard stands meters away and cannot see her, but the spirit of Mansilamar Vabdas still floats nearby.

She rotates her head (back still turned), so she can lock eyes with the spirit. "You shall be absolved of guilt," she promises, before carefully treading into the water.

Treading into water… water which is not shallow. In fact, it looks as though it goes rather deep. But, the water is also warmer than she'd expected. Warmer, probably due to some underwater lava flow, located nearby.

"Right. I'll just..."

She treads into the pool, then paddles a bit into it, as she'd seen small dogs paddle in some of Cheydinhal's nearby streams. She strokes her arms into the water, kicking her feet. She plunges her head under, to see how long she can hold her breath. It takes a few hours, but slowly and finally she is ready for the big dive.

It takes several dives actually, 'til she finds the corpse of Mansilamar Vabdas, which had sunk next to an underwater column of rock. The axe used to kill him is also right there. Several attempts are made to free this axe, which is partially lodged underneath the corpse's leg. Several attempts, and between each one she must swim back to the surface for air. She quickly learns that she can only hold her breath for a half-minute or so. After spending too long under a couple times, she feels her life-force beginning to dwindle! -- She must call upon the blessings of Mara for healing at these times.

She finally gets it done after many hours, finally returning to surface with the murderer's two-handed broadaxe.

"You have heard my story," the ghost says once she has dressed back in armor. "Do what you will. Show the axe to Darius."

"I shall do so," she promises, "and with haste."

Now that she's back on dry land, Joan also promises something to herself: first chance she gets, she's going to head over to the Mages Guild to learn a water-breathing spell!


The next morning
After the situation had been resolved, it seems a difference could now be made, and that all she'd assumed about the Legion are not what they seem. Joan has learned a few things about her new employer; not everyone within it always does what is proper. Greed and passion can overcome, and lives can be ruined. But this does not mean she won't be able to change this around at times, to attempt to make things right, for those whose voices deserve to be heard.

"There are laws beyond the cities, friend."

Back inside the Madach Tradehouse, where General Darius asks Joan 'how's the land grab going?', in so many words.

"I have conversed at small length with the widow of Mansilamar Vabdas," she tells him. As she speaks, she holds the axe once owned by the murdering orc in both hands.

"Her land is prime for our expansion plans here," the general informs her with a smile. “I expect good news from you, Footpad.”

Ah. Here it comes, the moment of truth. “I am afraid the overall situation pertaining to Miss Vabdas has garnered some complexity, sir.”

"Oh?"

"Mansilamar Vabdas was murdered," she tells him. "And I have proof of this. The axe which was used, this very axe in my hands now, was located deep within a pool-full of water, just next to Mansilamar's corpse. My guard, who is present behind me, can also attest to this."

"And what sort of proof do you have?"

"Attend please. And closely narrow thy eyes upon the axe's haft, which bears the name of Lugrub gro-Ogdum."

"Hmm. Yes, this is Lugrub's axe," Darius says cautiously. "I can see how it's been damaged from hitting bone here and here."

Joan's eyes are full of intent, as she focuses on Julianos, the Aedric god most associated with law, wisdom and logic. This moment, right now, is going to set the tone for how influential she could potentially be with the Imperials. What sort of career might she have in the future, now that it seems she has possibly defied her very first order?

"With this," says the general. "I have no choice but to believe your story. Lugrub gro-Olgum is an outlaw. Find him and kill him! Then justice will be served."

"But the orc has already fallen, sire. My guard, again, can attest to this, as Lugrub attacked us both when we returned to investigate."

"So you killed Lugrub, eh?” A moment passes as Darius considers this. His brow smooths. A decision has been made. “Good. Now the Widow Vabdas is avenged, and justice has been served."

Amazingly, that is it, and it is done! The Imperial Legion's newest recruit has done exactly what she'd set out to do: She has made a difference.

"I have more orders for you, when you are ready."

Joan Marie of Cyrodiil knows it now, as she senses the forces of great things surround them all. Her future is secured to continue Good Works.

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

Gnisis Eggmine

Brawling with Lugbrub

Brawling with Kwama Warriors -- (omg, these things suck with their touchshock spells)

Modest madam

Testing the waters

Diving Deeper

The Axe of Lugrub

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

NOTES: ** I had to go into the CS and move the stupid axe over a bit, as its "grab box" was located just out of reach. Really hard to grab weapons from the ground in this game, sometimes. Under water it's even worse.

Well, Joan’s speechcraft fails to assuage the now-dead orc. Good thing she has her mace and new guard as backups.

Ahah, so Lugrub was not a credit to the Legion at all!

Oh yes, a water breathing spell is a must going forward!

Nice resolution Joan makes to work within the imperfect Legion to improve it. And finally, with a bit of help from Julianos, Joan’s speechcraft comes through and she convinces Darius of the righteousness of her course.

A welcome thought indeed to realize that Joan is more likely to change the Legion than the other way around.

This is one heck of an assignment for a new recruit... Hauk had to do it as well just a couple of weeks ago (before I got stuck in the moors of Morthal). I was fully expecting him to have words with the Orc, but chance would have it that just as he entered, the kwamas took a dislike to the Orc and he was busy fighting them off! So Hauk spoke to the ghost first. Then of course the Orc had to go anyway... Problem is, in the heat of the battle the kwama queen got killed, and that wasn't good news. General Darius was not amused. However, he didn't blame Hauk for it (and it was all the Orc's fault anyway ).

Yeah, those shock spells are something else!

And on an unrelated subject: has Joan considered wearing a bra?

Running a widow off her her land sure does not sound like an auspicious beginning to one's career.

Your plight shall come to redemption.”
Blood Raven could not have said it better.

Things sure are getting exciting in the mine. Methinks that combative orc was up to some no good, and linked to the death of Mr. Vabdas.

I thought it was a appropriate that Joan Marie was centering herself by thinking of Akray, right before the ghost of Vabdas spoke to her. Yikes, now she has to learn to swim?

Definitely learn that water breathing spell Joanie!

Hopefully Joan's ideals will indeed improve things in the Legion. So far at least, she has saved the widow from an unscrupulous land grab.

If you don't mind a shy little girl who can do a little of this and a little of that (code words for thief) then I would suggest Emma's Constance for a companion. One of the best Morrowind companion mod available, IMO. You can RP that she picks all the locks.

Nothing quite like bounding into a new job, filled with joy and optimism, only to find that your first assignment is on the shady side.

But, fortunately, Joan's willing to go the extra mile. Morrowind isn't a place where you can take things at face value, so her determination means she can get to the truth of things. As such, she's made Gnisis a slightly better place and removed an element of corruption within the legion.

Though I still have a vague hunch that Darius is annoyed that the whole thing was exposed, since he'd much rather just take the land. Hard to trust the head of an organization that uses the death's head as a symbol.

I really must say, it's been great to have several of us writing during these days here at Chorrol. I love it. In Bethesda's old forums, for a while there were a bunch of writers there too, in the Oblivion > Spoilers section. Every week, there'd be new material to read. It got to the point during fall and winter of 2013 that there were so many ppl writing in that section, I'd often fall behind!

@Acadian-- Yes indeed, I like the idea of Joan making changes within this new organization she has joined. Trying to make some differences, at least. This is one of the great things about the open-ended nature of Bethesda games; we can take what we get out of them in different ways, all according to whichever character is doing the quests.

Like I said a couple weeks ago, my previous guy who did the same exact quest was more of a noble knight who was in it more for the money. Sir Galarad felt little for the widow's plight. Yes, he did help her, but he was also wondering what sort of compensation he'd receive.


@Lena Wolf -- Wow, Hauk sure got lucky then! Yes, those kwama warriors are horrible. I wonder why they'd attack Lugrub at all; wouldn't they all be in the same faction, or at least factions which are compatible? Weird.

So if the queen gets killed, this affects the quest as well, and Darius is not happy about this. Such a different experience Hauk had, compared to Joan.



Hey, if you know of any mods which can affect cup size, that's what I'm looking for! Edit: Okay, I see what you mean.


@SubRosa-- Yes, Raven and Joan do have this olde-world manner of speaking, this is true. Funny thing is, I've been relying less on Thesaurus.com to "enhance" Joan's manner of speaking. It's just become a habit to reach into her head, and she comes up with these quips which sound out-of-place for modern English.

I also use ancient table-gaming books for Skills. So Joan not knowing how to swim is actually "real" in a way, because Swimming (as well as Literacy, Charisma, Horsemanship, etc.) are skills which I assign to all my characters when they are first rolled. Long ago I had a character who couldn't read for instance. She'd only know what potions did by drinking them, and then remembering the shapes of letters on the potion's labels.


@macole-- Nice! Thank you. I'll definitely add Constance to my game. She might already be in there, because I did add several NPC follower mods a while back. Not saying Joan would choose Constance, but maybe one of my others would.

Truthfully, anything from Emma, you know there's some quality there.


@Well-Tempered Clavier -- Hey, I love your profile pic. How did you get the artwork, though? That looks like Balmora, but not with the standard Morrowind graphics.

Again, you are very right about Morrowind being a place where you cannot take things at face value. There is a Fighters Guild quest in which Joan is actually stalled, because she refuses to take part in it (I believe she's supposed to kill somebody who seems like an upstanding citizen, something like that).

Chapter XXVI -- Advancements and Accomplishments

24 Frost Fall to 30 Frost Fall (Days 70 to 76)


Joan is fully prepared to travel back to Ebonheart so she can deliver the five examples of muck she had collected for Synnolian Tunifus. But she can't just leave Gnisis. There's too much here for her to do.

It's not just that there's much to do; each new task she is given demands action, immediate action. After avenging the death of Mansilimar Vabdas, she is sent back into the same eggmine, so she can cure its queen of blight disease. She accomplishes this easily. Next quest, she and her guard travel to a small ashlander camp to the west, where they rescue a hostage. The hostage's name is Madura Seran. After Madura is found in the camp's main yurt, Joan and her guard must defeat the three rogues who'd captured her. And once this is done, they must then escort Madura back to Ald Velothi.

As she accomplishes each task, her rank also rises. She goes from Recruit to Spearman to Trooper. She also attains a breastplate set made of Imperial-quality steel, which she wears most proudly.

"So, you got Medura Seran out of the camp, and in one piece," says General Darius. "Good work, Joan of Cheydinhal."

"Most dutifully, sir."

It seems nobody else in the Legion is capable of the things Joan, a virtual newcomer into Gnisis society, is able to accomplish. Why might this be? she asks herself. Could it be they are all too fearful of results gone awry?

As Joan Marie moves from one task to the next, completing each one with success, her reputation in the town of Gnisis quickly spreads. Pretty soon half the people she speaks to want to thank her for one or more of the recent things she has done.

And it is perhaps due to this frequent praise that Joan takes up a rather odd habit: she begins walking about Gnisis barefoot. She does this first to give her feet a rest; most of the time they are encased within boots, you see. Pretty soon though, her habit of un-shoeing herself takes on a more altruistic meaning. The people of town begin to assume she's going shoeless as a sign of humility. And Joan does not disagree with this.

It's this habit which forges her story into the books of time, and it's this habit which others, other crusader-types that is, shall follow in the years, decades, and eras to come.

Her next order is to learn what happened to an orc by the name of Ragash gra-Shuzgob, a tax collector who'd gone missing. Ragash was last seen heading off to a tower here in town called Arvs-Drelen, and it's Joan's task to try finding what occurred to the orc, if anything.

But this time, the task is not easy. She is able to locate Ragash the tax-collector simply enough; the orc is found locked (but otherwise unguarded) in the basement of Arvs-Drelen tower! ... Joan is able to free Ragash from captivity. From here, things don't go as well, as her next idea was to head back into the tower, so she can have a few words with Baladas Demnevanni, the tower's supposed owner.

And it is back inside that Joan and her new guard encounter a foe which they cannot defeat. In the tower's second floor they do not meet Baladas, instead they come across what seems to be his minion: a daedroth! -- This beast is a formidable one indeed. They tried to fight the damned thing, only to find themselves quickly losing the skirmish. Sadly, Joan's new guard fell to his death as he blindly tried to defeat it. But Joan herself was not so exuberant in doing so.

During her younger days back in Cheydinhal, as she received pre-military training, one of the facets she'd learned was to make sure to pick your battles wisely. Do not continue those fights which cannot be won. It's more important to step aside from melee on Day One, one of her instructors had told her a year or two earlier, so you can come back later to defeat your enemy on Day Two, Day Three, or even Day Eight-Five.

It's something she steadfastedly realizes is true, now that she's out 'in the field'.

Over the past few weeks and then months, from her first day arriving poor and wretched to Seyda Neen, she'd been questioning her plight. Why had she been boarded onto that ship (apparently the wrong ship), why had she gotten separated from her friends, and why had she been assumed as some sort of prisoner once she'd made it to Morrowind? Most of all, why had one of the first people she'd met in Seyda Neen sent her to a strange man in Balmora, who'd then assigned her to one of the most coveted factions in all Tamriel?

And over the past few weeks and then months, she'd begun to believe and sense she indeed has some sort of calling here in Vvardenfell. It'd been more of a feeling at first, this idea that she'd been chosen, for whatever sort of reason. But over time, this feeling was seeming to become more of a reality. More of an everyday assumption for her. Because of this, Joan is now not so keen on wasting her own life, just to gain knowledge about why the tax-collector had been imprisoned. Her guard? It had been his own choice, to take on the demon itself while she fled. Pick your battles, her instructors had warned her. At times like these, she can definitely see why.

Still, she finds the lack of action from other legionnaires here in town to be daunting. She mentions everything which occurred to General Darius. The tax-collector she'd found in lockup, the highly-dangerous 'pet' being kept apparently by Baladas Demnevanni, and she mentions these things expecting Darius to send his entire platoon into the Velothi tower.

"If we all mount an affront within Arvs-Drelen as one, we can possibly defeat the abomination, as one. Then we shall face Baladas ourselves, and bring the evildoer to truer justice."

But Darius does nothing, and this is despite losing one of his own. Since Joan hasn't got the rank to order his troops around, she is forced to heed, forced to move on.

Her next assignment is even more compelling. Apparently, somebody within the Gnisis Barracks, one of General Darius's own troops, is involved with the Cult of Talos. The general, for whatever reason, is not happy about this. Not so much because he does not believe in Talos as a god; it seems he's upset because there have been rumors of some sort of conspiracy, associated with.

Over a day or two, the Legion's newest recruit is able to speak to many Barracks' members, eventually getting some good information from Oritius Maro, one of its residents. Eventually she narrows down a suspected name: Arius Rulician. After more prodding, she finds Arius hiding in the Gnisis Barracks cellar, where a small shrine to Talos had been erected. Tries to speak to the man, but he refuses to acknowledge her words. She then discovers a note in a small chest, also inside the cellar. The note was signed by Oritius, and in this note was one very outrageous threat.

-- ...When Uriel Septim VII comes to visit Vvardenfell, he should be killed to put a strong man back on the throne of Tamriel... --

Finding this note caused immediate complications, Joan was attacked by Arius on the spot! For the first time in a long time, she was forced into a fight without the assistance of a guard. She also could not just leave the cellar -- Arius managed to block her way out -- she was trapped! Despite this, she was able to defeat her assailant by (1) striking the man repeatedly with her Daggar of Judgement, causing his strength and life force to fail. As he succumbed to the weight of his own gear (moving slower and slower about the cellar) she then (2) switched to her simple iron mace, bashing the man until his life fell further. Finally, she was able to blast and sizzle him with her spell of Holy Light.

The entire time, she called to Arius, begging him to give up. Chances are he'd merely be imprisoned for the threats levied by the cult. Could he not see the wrongdoings of his own ways?

... But some men of his sort of stature, they sometimes do not heed, even as they wear the sworn colors of the Empire. As Joan stabbed, slashed, and then bashed Arius Rulician to oblivion, all she could otherwise do was ask for mercy. And since he refused this, it was ultimately his loss.

...Joan of Cyrodiil, often known as Joan of Cheydinhal to those who knew her more specifically, prayed once again to Arkay as her attacker bled out before her. Things, they could have turned out differently, if just a little bit of common sense had prevailed. "May Arkay direct thy path towards whichever further judgements," she said to Arius.

Back in front of Darius, Joan worried she'd possibly be charged with a crime. She had just killed a fellow member of the Legion, after all. But the general was unbothered by this. He immediately ordered her to confront and kill Oritius as well, since it was he who had penned the assassination note. This time, Joan did not wish to fight the man by herself. This time, she'd try to convince Oritius to "give up thy wicked ways." Turn himself in. At best, he would at least rot away in a cell for some length of time. But it was he who had chosen his own unruly path.

But again, the situation quickly turned dire, as the Oritius Maro immediately attacked as she entered Gnisis Barracks. And again, it was his loss. Joan quickly gained the sympathy of several Legion troopers, who knew what was happening by now, and helped take down Uriel's assassination-plotter right away.

"Now the traitors are dead," says Darius after all is done, and Joan had returned to the general. "It saddens me that this could happen to men under my command. We all swore to serve the Emperor, no matter what happens. You've earned my gratitude, Joan of Cyrodiil. Long live Uriel Septim!"

Joan (once again) wished it had not come to this, but what can she do? Some folks, their stubbornness, their pride, their own misgiven decisions, are also their ultimate dooms.

A lot had happened, and all within a quick matter of days. "I've got something else for you, if you're interested," General Darius said, dangling yet another carrot in front of his newest guar.

But after a week in Gnisis, and a chance to rise in rank from Agent to Champion, Joan decides she's had enough. There's been a slew of accomplishments here in town: one redemption, two rescues, two overturned traitors, and one of her own compatriots, fallen in the line of duty. Joan finds she longs to get back to the southwestern areas of Vvardenfell, turf she's more familiar with. She decides not to speak to Darius for any more work. Not only has she grown tiresome of the town, but she's also not being paid for all these Good Works. She needs to get back south, and her supply of drakes is dwindling.

She takes the silt strider, first to Seyda Neen, and then to Vivec. From Vivec, she walks to the town of Ebonheart, so she can earn some money from the yucky muck she'd collected, and from the bowl made of limeware she'd retrieved. By the time she gets to Ebonheart, she's got just 17 gold to her name.

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


Notes:

1). Most of my latter 'crusader' type characters: Dyan phor a'Cauz, Lord Haaf-Mersey and so on, also tend to go about town barefoot. In my head-canon, all of this starts with Joanie.

2). Getting the guards to make that final attack on Oritius meant quickly running up to a couple guards, and then using the follower mod I've got to make them Follow her. Otherwise, they all stand around going "durr"... while she does all the work.

Wow, the things they give newbies to do. This quest dealing with the triators Arius Rulician and Oritius Maro was interesting. I admit I only ever did the first few Legion quests and I didn't remember dealing with traitors to the empire, at all. Thanks.

The Barefoot Crusader!

That Joan’s speechcraft is leveling up slowly is perhaps good. After all, she is getting plenty of opportunities to bash sense into or life out of her opponents – hence leveling up her combat skill. She has risen to Champion based on her deeds in Gnisis but clearly the Legion has not paced her pay accordingly as she still must rely on rummaging for missing kitchenware and muck to earn coin.

It looks like Joan is getting things done in the Legion.

The Barefoot Contessa Paladin. That reminds me of the old TV show Kung Fu, whose monk protagonist also usually went barefoot everywhere.

Uh oh. Just when it looked like Joan was on a roll, fate intervened with a giant crocodile monster. RIP to her faithful guard. That is one of the reasons I do not use companions. You cannot control them, especially when you want to make a tactical retreat.

A traitorous plot uncovered, and dealt with. Joan is making quite a reputation. But not making bank! She just needs to explore some of those smuggler hideouts. They have boxes and boxes filled with expensive potions.

My profile picture is actually a piece of art I commissioned for Daria in Morrowind.

There's already a thread with it (and another artwork) here: http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=8299

It's funny how Joan's journey in some ways reflects the TES concept of mantling. She didn't really belong in Vvardenfell, but through grit and talent she makes it belong to her. "Walk like them until they must walk like you", as Nu-Hatta said.

Which is particularly illustrative in the case of the Legion, since she's very much doing what the Legion should be doing, but isn't.

I seemed to remember that Dyan also used to walk around bare foot, so now we know, who served as her inspiration.

That name Demnevanni (that sounds like some Albanian surname to me ) brings up some memories, but since none of mine have done the Imperial Legion questline, he must also be involved in some other quest(s).

Clever to retreat from the battle and (perhaps) come back later at some point.

Joan of Cheydinhal did a lot of good things at Gnisis. I'd say that it's now time to rest her feet, but knowing her, she's not someone that can rest for long.

Hey I love you all. It's really hot outside everywhere right now. That's why I'm indoors about to edit the next Joan story. How's everybody doing?



That's the great thing about writing a story along with the game, I find that when I'm just gaming, not so much thinking goes on sometimes. I get the feeling what my character wants to do, and we do it, and we move on. I enjoy considering things with my Holy Knight gal.




That part was crazy, the lack of payment bit! ⏰ We got so caught up in all these events. At some point I realized Joan was running out of money! No money for potions, no money for weapon/armor upkeep, and so on. Whoa... she's about to run out of money. You mean she's not getting paid for this??? ... I totally didn't notice. And if the money's gone, this means she'll need to WALK back south instead of taking the strider. No resources, armor half-falling apart...

It'd be really dangerous for her to do this. She's level 5 or 6 by now, and still pretty fragile, especially if more than one baddie shows up.




Hey, very good!



And this is why I use generic respawning NPCs! They can be as stupid as they want. Go ahead and pwn yourself, eventually another will show up.



Now there's an idea. 💡 Just wait until she gets further in levels too--then she'll be able to pwn some smugglers, vampires! Evildoers!!! All in the name of the Nine!




Precisely! She really walked into a mess.

Damn, I forgot what I was about to say. Maybe it'll come to me later. Oh yeah. In regards to not belonging in Vvardenfell, and especially regarding her time in Gnisis. She's almost like Viracocha to the Incas. This persona who comes into town and does a bunch of acts which nobody else seems thoughtful enough to even try. For the Incas, Viracocha created civilization. He showed the Incas how to rise from their barbaric past.

For Gnisis, it's like they were all just *stuck* with a list of problems, and Joan is able to solve them all, one by one. Then she leaves. She's like this small, mythical being whom they praised and praised, and what are they gonna do now that she's gone?

Thanks for the artwork link!



Yes very good, Dyan was my 'first' character to do the barefoot-in-town thing, but really, Joan preceded Dyan.

And you are right. A Holy Knight's work is never done.

-ta!

Chapter XXVII -- Return to Ebonheart

Date not recorded

Joan returns to Ebonheart on a typical warm Morrowind day and quickly recruits a new guard. First trooper she sees, she speaks to. “Would you like to leave the safety of Ebonheart, abandon the comfort of your easy command post, and truly see the world beyond, all for sake and vigilance of the Nine?” “For the Nine? Yes!” is his answer.

They have a meal of bread and mudcrab-cakes, they spend the night in Six Fishes. The next morning they rush right over to Ebonheart's chapter of the Imperial Cult, where Joan finally makes a bit of coin. 500 gold of it, in fact.

"Thank you for retrieving that Chapel Limeware Bowl." Kaye (the Cult's Shrine Sergeant) pays her well, for her help in retrieving an item of kitchenware which is neither rare, nor magical.

"Graces to the Nine," Joan says to Kaye.

She also receives a very special gift from Kaye, a rather rare piece of jewelry called the Maran Amulet. Now here is one mightily-powerful instrument she can use as she travels. The amulet is a four-effect item, which boosts the wearer's abilities to speak and persuade, as well as her talents with healing, Mysticism, and turning undead. It's nice to be recognized, but spectacular to receive some compensation. For all the wonderful and challenging things she'd accomplished up in Gnisis, she hadn't earned a drake. Not that Joan bothers or complains, of course.

The next person she speaks to isn't so gracious, or kind.

"Have you reached your goal of 100 gold in donations from the Skyrim mission?" asks Iulus Truptor, the Cult's savant.

Joan reports that she has not made their goal. Heidir, the mission's man-in-charge, refused to donate.

"You're not trying hard enough, Joan of Cyrodiil," Iulus scolds. "We are disappointed in you.”

Joan makes no reply. She can see the man's got more to say.

"But it's your decision. Perhaps you should take some time off and decide whether your talents and temperaments are suited for fund-raising."

"I shall try harder," she tells him.

Despite these mixed results, her rank within the chapel rises from Novice to Initiate. It is Kaye the Redguard who bestows this title upon her. Kaye also gives Joan her next quest.

"A Bosmer named Nedhelas in Caldera says his house is haunted by a ghost," he tells her. Kaye explains that she'll need to head to Caldera, and suggests fighting it with either a silver weapon, or a magical one (information she’s known since childhood). The sergeant then gives her an additional 200 drakes, so she can go buy a suitable weapon.

As if the Initiate he speaks to has never sparred with ghosts before. "It shall be done," she tells him.

She's then off to Caldera. As she leaves Ebonheart the next day, she looks forward to using her special new amulet, if and when needed.

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

The chapter above is a shortie, not all that interesting like the last few. Don't feel like you need to comment, folks; it's merely an old-fashioned update like we used to write in the Today threads. Next chapter should be more involved.

I might be wrong in remembering this but I think that Haryon never bothered to perform any tasks for this savant, simply because of his arrogance.

Joan of Cheydinhal the Ghost Buster!

Testimony to Joan's improving speechcraft is how readily she recruits a new guard-companion. Wow, that'll be boosted even more with her new amulet. Who knew recovering kitchenware could be so profitable?

A ghost pestering a Bosmer? Can't have that. Joan gonna get a silver sword for her guard?

Joan has recruited another Red Shirt for the cause.

I guess Joan has work to do in the prosperity gospel field. Good for her. I don't think Talos is hurting for septims.

When there's something strange, in Caldera? Who you gonna call?

Joan of Arkay!

Heh, I remember trying to get alms from the Skyrim Mission. As I recall, one of the guards was randomly generous. At least the IC seems to appreciate Joan's work.

Yeah I remember being able to collect 100 drakes from the Skyrim Mission when I played the game on Xbox, no problem at all. That was with a knight character. He had about the same Speech skill Joan has now. But ... Maybe it's because he was Imperial he was able to get this done! (Joan is Breton).



Ha! Kitchenware....and samples of muck. 🎃

You folks keep commenting on the Ghost quest given by Kaye. 🥶 Would you like me to write that up? I skipped writing that part, but maybe I'll write that up too. Yes? No?

There should be a poll.



Wow. Guess we're not the only ones then.

Chapter XXVIII -- Vivec Informants

5 Sun's Dusk (Day 82)

Level: 7
Reputation: 3


Back in Balmora. As usual, there is plenty to do. Gear to repair, food and potions to stock upon, spells to get made, and most of all, there's a strange man to speak to, a man who lives across town. Last time Joan'd seen him, this man advised her to do some traveling. See more of the world of Vvardenfell, find a few pursuits to follow, and gain as much experience as she could before returning again. She had taken his advice. Now that she'd done so, she feels a bit torn about whatever could come next.

As a supposed up-and-coming member of Uriel Septim's Blades, what role was she was to play within the strange man's supposed organization?

Sun's Dusk, 3E427

My name is Caius Cosades, and I am a skooma addict.

For several years I've served my Emperor as a spy, and eventually have risen to the level of Grand Spymaster of the Blades. The espionage branch of the Emperor's personal guard is intentionally not well-known, and so far I've worked in relative obscurity, with a small but effective force of operatives, in the outlying provinces.

While working in Vvardenfell, I've taken up skooma use as a cover. At first, it was entirely effective; the small doses I actually used were not debilitating in any way. I had not anticipated, however, that the drug would be so very persuasive. I didn't realize that skooma has a mind of its own, and it slowly insinuates itself into your very being, until your life is no longer separable from that next

Caius Cosades put his quill down, suddenly deep in thought. Began reflecting upon what exactly he was trying to say. What should be added into his new journal? The words he'd just written, especially revelations about his use of illegal substances, were they appropriate? Were they necessary? -- Did it matter if they were put forth so blatantly? -- No, of course not. He'd be the only one reading his own words, in his own new journal of parchment. So why was he suddenly bothered?

He realized he was writing from the perspective of a man whose business might not remain as his own; that perhaps he might be discovered some day, and by exactly the wrong imposter. -- The wrong assassin. -- If so, things might not go so well. He was mostly on his own out here, after all. Starting with banter about skooma might set the wrong sort of tone, for what might some day be viewed as part of his legacy.

... Perhaps he should tear out the page, and start another one ...

... Then again, a skooma-addict-laying-low is exactly what he had become...

Laying low. Caius Cosades lived a quiet life in Balmora, and had been doing so for a while now. To be successful at hiding in plain sight meant camouflaging with the locals. A down-on-his-luck Imperial who'd seen better days, living amongst the Dunmer. That was who he had literally become. Blend in. Lay low. And enjoy life in Balmora, best he could. That was the trick, for a man in his position.

"The apprentice. She is back..."

It had been weeks since he'd heard from the young lady, the one who'd been assigned to the Blades by the emperor himself several months ago. Barely aged over a lass, that one. Yet she had already proven quite proficient at accomplishing those tasks passed on to her.

And now, it was once again time. The chosen damsel, she had returned to the Fighters Guild across town. Word of this spread quickly and quietly from there, to Caius's withdrawn ears.

"She has returned."

The time had come. So let's get this house in order. Caius Cosades started by setting aside his brand-new journal of parchment, and stashing his trusty skooma pipe behind the bed.


6 Sun's Dusk, 3 a.m.
Late in the night it was, but this didn't matter much to a man of his position. His door was always open for the right person.

There was a quiet knock. And in she walked. The lady assigned by Uriel himself had returned to town indeed. She was dressed as a commoner, which was good. Caius'd heard she had joined the Legion up in Ebonheart recently. He feared she'd show up at his doorway wearing full legionnaire regalia, drawing any late-at-night eyes toward his door. Which would not be good. But it seemed she had more sense than this. Common sense, and common clothes.





"I see I stand in good company, friend. What can I do for you?"

"Caius. .... Has my name slipped your recollection?"

"Ehm, Jewel?"

She shook her head. "Jewel, my name is not."

"I was just kidding. I know your name well, and it is Josephine."

"Have you not obtained yourself a tunic yet?" the lady fussed with crossed arms. "Such immodesty."

Caius stared, and made no reply.

"Well, upon the nave of this morning, I shall head across town to make purchase of one selected upper garment for you, which I shall then donate to our cause. Have no worries. I sha'nt involve Dibella, nor any other of the Aedra as I amble along this quest. For this is exactly that, a quest to improve the tawdry living habits of Caius Cosades."

The Grand Spymaster only smiled. "Are you here to discuss your orders, Joan of Cheydinhal? Or is there something else you want?"

The apprentice put her bag down. "I did take your advice, I have spent from Heartfire 'til now in travel and in adventure. I do believe I am ready. What have you in mind, sir?"

"I've thought it over," Caius began. "And I want you to interview three informants in Vivec City, concerning the Nerevarine and the Sixth House."

His charge grabbed a quill from her sidepurse, inked it with Caius's open inkwell, and began scribbing notes. Caius wanted her to speak to three of Vivec's residents, two of them members of nefarious organizations, and a third who seemed more neutral.

1). Addhiranirr, a Khajiit Thieves Guild agent.
2). Huleeya, a Morag Tong Argonian and assassin.
3). Mehra Milo, a priestess at Vivec's Tribunal temple.

St. Olmes Canton followed by the Foreign Quarter followed by Vivec's Hall of Justice, respectively. She was to speak to those three residents, and learn anything she could about the Nerevarine Cult, or the Sixth House. Mysterious stuff to ponder, which only intrigued the likes of the young, appointed Blade.

"Here are two-hundred drakes," Caius handed her a bag. "For bribes and other expenses... Joan from Cheydinhal."

She bowed slightly and closed her eyes. "Graces and many thanks. Though I try to remain humble and vigilant, I also approve of any compensation toward the cause. Traveling about, it does incur quite a bit of expense, after all."

Caius smiled again, perhaps a bit impatiently.

"And my words contain truth. I shall go forthwith and on the morrow, to purchase for thee one or two layers of reticent upper-garments, Caius. Nothing too fancy. Perhaps I might gather another set as I head to market within Vivec, as well."

"Heh. We'll see about that."

She grabbed her bag and off she went, to follow the sentient path set before her. Caius Cosades reached behind his bed, unsure whether he was grabbing for his new journal, or his trusty old pipe.

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

The Caius Cosades text which starts in italics up above was originally written by glargg, which I amended a bit to fit the story above. I found the text while reading an old forum post of his on this page, and it just fit perfectly with what I had in mind for this chapter. Hope you don't mind if I borrow that glargg, wherever you are!

Nice to see a scene from the POV of Caius. I could have sworn I have read that letter before. Maybe it was from the same glargg post you linked to? Wow, that was a blast from the past.

Caius has gotten so "in character' that he has become the character he was intending to use as a cover. For good and bad.

I love how perterbed Joanie is by Caius' unashamed half-nakedness! Why my stars and garters, how shocking!

To be honest, all three of those organizations seem rather nefarious.

Wow, a story from Caius' perspectivie.

Nice touch to include a reference to glargg.

I wonder if she'll really bring him some shirt.

Time to find more about the 6th House...

Having never played TES III, it was fun to learn a bit more of this Caius character in his own words.

And Joan ‘Get that man a shirt!’ of Arkay returns! Another task that will this time take her to Vivec City and even provides some advance pay.

Fasinating how glargg took Caius Cossades and turned him into the Hero of Kvatch and Champion of Cyrodiil.

Oh, and tell Joan to save her money. That guy is never going to wear a shirt.

He's not Caius anymore if he wears a shirt. That's just how he rolls, and Joan needs to accept it.

Interesting getting Caius's perspective on the whole thing. Joan's pragmatic enough to not always wear the Legion uniform, but not quite pragmatic enough to be comfortable dealing with the Thieves Guild and the Morag Tong. Wonder how she'll manage with them...

SubRosa -- glargg made Caius into an Oblivion character long ago, and oh yeah, I did borrow his work. I hope this is okay! I got to know the guy well when we were all posting (gulp) a decade ago. I have a feeling he'd be okay with it.

Everything in Elder Scrolls III, all the organizations, have an aura of nefariousness, right?


Lopov -- You wonder if my busy go-getting Crusader chick will buy a top for Caius eh? Is she not already busy enough? Hee ha. That whole sub-plot is just like Kahreem trying to get the Gray Fox to remove his stupid cowl.

And yeah, I kind of get what the Nerevar is all about, after stumbling across dozens of unintentional spoilers over the years, but the Sixth House remains truly ... shrouded in mystery...


Acadian -- No kidding. I thought you had played Morrowind in the past, but maybe I'm getting mixed up with some other game from that era. Maybe it was Baldur's Gate ...

macole -- I agree (about when glargg made Caius into the Hero of Kvatch). Back in the day I apparently never mentioned how brilliant his roleplay with Caius was, not publicly anyway. A bunch of us were writing back then, which was fun.

WellTemperedClavier -- My game is days and weeks ahead of the story by now. Vivec Informants is quite an unexpectedly ... uh... dangerous quest. Some very tense moments occur for sure.

Chapter XXIX -- Nar gro-Shagramph

8 Sun's Dusk (Day 85)



"Not a lot of pretty ladies around here."

Back in Ebonheart's Imperial Chapel, Joan receives the Stendarran Belt from Kaye, for cleansing the haunted house of Nedhelas up in Caldera. Obtaining this unique piece of apparel means fortifying aspects of her abilities with combat, specifically as she'll attack with maces and clubs. Since she's gotten interested in blunt-type weapons over the past few weeks, this belt is one she's going to keep.

For delivering five samples of black anther to Synnolian, she receives a book called The Four Suitors of Benitah, which she'll hopefully have time to read, some day. She had been quite the bookworm in her youth. But as a young adult, as each day passes on to the next, and as she finds herself in perilous circumstances more and more often, she's found reading for the sake of immersing herself into adventure, imagination, and fantasy to be somewhat of a moot point. As each day passes on to the next, her actual life has become a constant fantasy, filled with adventure, as she never knows what sort of imaginative situation the Gods will place her into next.

Joan is also promoted to Acolyte.

The next quest from Kaye is really interesting. "Not long ago we drove a coven of witches from the old Daeddric ruins of Ashalmawia. However, one witch escaped - a Dark Elf named Thelsa Dral."

Joan nods grimly. Begins scribbling notes in her journal.

"But just recently, egg miners from nearby Asha-Ahhe Egg Mine have complained the mine is cursed!" Kaye then suggests, of course, that somebody take care of this. He even gives this 'somebody' full authority to kill the witch, if necessary.

She is to head to the village of Khuul, which is somewhere on the northwest coast of Vvardenfell, and then travel by foot to the mine. Kaye's directions are a bit vague, but he does know that Thelsa can summon bonewalkers, and so he warns her of this.

"Bonewalkers sha'n't be of any grand concern," Joan replies calmly, thinking of the arsenal of spells she's got which can turn or harm undead. "May Arkay guide these miscreants toward true light." She had learned two of these spells when she was just sixteen.

Finally, two unexpected things happen:

1). Kaye gives Joan 300 drakes to help her on her way. Very much appreciated, and

2). Iulus Truptor, the primate who'd gotten sniffy with her after she failed to bring in money from Ebonheart's Skyrim Mission, asks her to collect 100 drakes from Ebonheart's Argonian Mission.

Amazingly, Joan manages to do this, collecting all hundred from Im-Kilaya, the mission's leader, within a couple hours. She relies a bit on her Maran Amulet to do so, but her budding abilities with words and persuasions cannot be ignored.

The Acolyte also believes her attire has helped. She enters the place barefoot, noticing that those whose ancestry had begun long ago in Black Marsh never don footwear here in Morrowind. She also (once again) sets aside her Imperial cuirass before embarking to the mission. By now, she knows with certainty that not everybody in the province has unfounded respect for the Legion.



14 Sun's Dusk (Day 91), early afternoon

Firmly started into winter, finally there is some actual cooler air to breathe here in Vvardenfell. Joan walks from one Vivec canton to the next, as rain pours and chilly winds howl across the city's stone avenues.




She has several things she'll need to do today, and has chosen a set of common-class clothes to wear. No armor. And she is barefoot. All of this is being done in an attempt to appear as ordinary as possible, since she'll be needing to obtain sensitive information. Two of the Vivec residents she'll need to speak are from vile organizations.

"Why do the ordinators choose to even tolerate the Tong and Guild of Thieves, openly and legally within their locales?" Joan scoffs, her feet sloshing in water. She is here on behalf of Caius Cosades, to learn all she can about the Nerevarine Cult and Sixth House. Seems not to be such a difficult task...

But first, the Guild of Fighters here in Vivec collars her attention with their latest quest for her: she must collect a piece of jewelry from an orc named Nar gro-Shagramph, who is rumored to have a very rare Juicedaw Feather Ring in his possession. Nar was supposed to deliver the ring to somebody named Ranes Ienith, but Ranes claims to have never received it. Now the Fighters Guild wants it back!

-- Does Baurin, the guild's inhouse Bosmer Scout and stealth trainer, get this mission? ... Does Raig? Does Sjoring Hard-Heart? ... No, no, and no. They want Joan to do it, even though she's relatively unknown here in Vivec.

"Perhaps they see within me some aptitudes they lack?"

Still, this isn't such a horrid assignment. From the sound of it, nobody's going to need to be put down (or else). She'll be able to rely on words to get this done, or so she hopes.

She walks from the Foreign Quarter to Redoran Canton, and from Redoran to the Hlaalu Canton. Her clothes are soaked by the time she reaches the top tier of Hlaalu, so she takes a few minutes to dry them out a bit by an open brazier.

It doesn't take long for her to locate the orc, whom she finds moseying about Hlaalu's central plaza.

"How fares thee, Nar? I am Joan, of the Fighters Guild," she informs, looking for any sort of adverse reactions from him. Does he glance to his feet in shame for hoarding the ring? Does he quickly touch his face in an attempt to hide a telling expression of guilt?

He does nothing of the sort. "I am Nar gro-Shagramph, the barbarian," answers the orc proudly and confidently, as if he has no idea why she is here.

After a bit of small-talk, during which Nar continues to evade the subject, Joan activates the magic from her Maran Amulet (fortifying her ability to persuade), and also releases some mana from her belt (fortifying her overall persona). She feels just a pang of something while doing so, as though relying on unseen forces to gain the upper-hand is a bit devious. But the job must get done. And at least nobody's going to need to fight to any sort of death here. Or so she hopes. Will her new Aedrically-enchanted items make any sort of difference?

"So, in case you have wonder as to why a guild apprentice such as myself has appeared, and's been in actuality sent to converse with you Nar, I am here in regaliant representation of the guild, to retrieve an item you might have in your very possession." Joan consults her notebook, in an effort to make herself look somewhat official. "To explain a bit more bluntly, we have knowledge that it is you, who possesses a ring which portends to ease the burdens of its wearer. And now, the guild requests the ring back."

"But I don't got any ring," Nar says defensively. "And...and I don't not know what you are talking about." -- And there it is, a certain 'tell'; a touch to the bridge of his nose as he lies to her face.

"Ah. You've not any supposed knowledge of the feather ring then," she starts. "Yet 'twas you, Nar gro-Shagramph, who was tasked to deliver the ring to Ranes Ienith." She tries to say this without coming across as accusatory, which is perhaps impossible of course. "Aye. I do know his name."

The orc says nothing; it's the sudden and apparent itch upon his backside which says it all for him. He begins to reach for his behind. But then stops, as if realizing this is not something we'd just do before a lady, especially one who's pestering him for possible theft. Instead of scratching back there, Nar hangs his large green hand to his side.

"Might I mention this name, Ranes Ienith, and thine as well, to the grand posse of ordinators here within Hlaalu Canton? ... Might we first concede to consider all of them walking about this very floor? ... Oh my," she points, "we've got an ordinator gleaming within golden armor, strutting about within plain eyesight!" Joan pauses for effect. "Might we also take a moment to reckon the Fighters Guild itself, which was so kind to place you as their trustworthy hireling, and for one simple task?"

The orc does not answer. But his brow contracts a bit with angst, another certain tell.

"We must mull over Nar," she says pedantically, narrowing her thoughts as an archer aims for the bullseye. "For was it not you, Nar gro-Shagramph, who is known by all employed locally by the guild to hold the magical ring in coveted possession..."

With each additional set of words, she can see the orc before her begins to pout and shuffle, his resolve beginning to slip. This is intentional. One of her past instructors was just like this, always building and adding more talk, more jawing, more phrases, more endless discussion, in an effort to push an errant student to confession. Or convince a classful of debating pupils to see things his way. The man could fill virtual novels with his ramblings.

"I sha'n't make mention of this matter to them," she concludes. "The ordinators, the guild, they shall not know of your deception, Nar. Hand over the ring, and I'll cause an effort to place good words for you orc, that you may continue your erstwhile living and riches upon the plains. A barbarian, as you describe, with plenty of barbarian-type tasks upon your ledger."

"Uh... you're are too kind, Fighters Guild woman."

Joan tilts her head slightly. "The ring? ... I can see the guilt upon your conscience, Nar." She looks down to her notepad again, flipping a few pages for effect. "Let me eloqute a tale from my youth for you, Nar. For there was once upon a time when in haste and impatience--"

"Fine, take it," the orc says gruffly, grabbing the piece from his pocket, and tossing it over. "Never liked the stupid ring, anyway."

The Fighters Guild apprentice nods in confidence. "May you bask in all the glory which pertains to Julianos, for your forthright decision."

"Whatever you say, Fighters Guild woman. Just leave me alone!"

There, it is done. Perhaps this is why the guild has chosen her, because it seems she's somebody who does just this: she gets things done.

But Joan hits a wall later on, as she tries to locate the Thieves Guild, where she hopes to speak to the first subject on Caius's list. After following the ambiguous advice of several Vivec residents she ends up in the canton of St. Olmes, climbing a ladder into its Underworks. Down here the lights are dim, and the air is murky. If the guild is indeed located under St. Olmes, she decides it'd be a bad idea to explore this area without full armor pieces. Not necessarily her legionnaire's armor, but also not the clothes of a pauper.

Perhaps she'd better fetch her guard, as well.



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

Juicedaw Feather Ring "conversation"

NOTES: The part above when Joan delivers that long sermon to the orc and he says "You're too kind" or whatever was me getting successful with the Admire button, once again.

So Joan might be turning into a blunt instrument? Or at least start using one?

I love how her real life has soured her on reading adventure fiction. Hard to beat her own experiences!

So Joan did not just take 100 drakes from what Kaye gave her, and hand it straight to Iulus for his task? When January did all those fundraisers, she just paid for it all with her own money.

I love that she continues to show her humility by walking barefoot.

So Joan is on a jewelry recovery mission. At least it isn't rats.

I like that she is fortifying her charisma and speechin' skills. I started doing that a long time ago in Oblivion, since I could never make much sense of that game's persuasion wheel mini-game.

Congrats to Joan for solving this one without having to kill anyone.

Joan is progressing nicely as the barefoot knight! I see she is building up her bone-smashing blunt weapons skills to back up her impressive speechcraft. Nice job talking that orc into submission. Anything to get rid of that funny talking fighters guild woman!

So, she talked his ears off. Well, I'd say Joan got very lucky that this orc just tossed the ring instead of pulling out his big barbarian's axe and teaching Joan to STOP TALKING! I know a certain Wolf who would react like that...

If Joan ever gets her hands on a bottle of Telvanni Bug Musk, watch out! There will be no stopping her.

I think Telvanni Bug Musk would be very un-knightly though!

Navigating Vivec is never easy. Joan's quite patient for putting up with it with so little fuss. Though Vivec's less of a pain than Morrowind's persuasion system...

Also, good job on doing what an Imperial does best: talking one's way to victory. Joan figured out how to guilt Nar into handing over the ring, which is a good use of that "Voice of the Emperor" perk. Probably also good for Joan's personal sense of morality, too. Though keen on justice, she never seemed terribly fond of killing folks, and Nar's sins are pretty minor in the grand scheme of things.

My goodness. Woke up about an hour ago. Window's been open all night since it's summer, but right now it's actually cold in my room. 59 degrees! No wonder I slept really well.

~-~-~-~
SubRosa -- Yes, that part when she talks about having trouble keeping up with book-reading. That's something Jim Morrison said in an interview, how he grew up reading & writing poetry and was quite an avid reader, but as The Doors became popular his entire life became a book. Same line of thought applies here for my character. Uh.. not that she's going to become a maniacal rock star.

I remember you saying that Jan'd use her own money to pay off the Alms for Poor quests! Clever.

"Congrats to Joan for accomplishing this without having to kill anyone" -- Yes absolutely! It is also possible to do the Juicedaw Ring quest (and other quests of this nature) by using Speech to Taunt the person we're talking to. If successful, then WE get attacked, which causes the Ordinators or Legion to come to our rescue if they're around. If they aren't around, we still have legal recourse to fight back.

~-~-~-~-~

Acadian-- The whole barefoot thing began long ago with Dyan phor a'Cauz, a TES4 character who did Knights of the Nine. She'd wear and carry the most expensive, top-grade armor she could loot or buy; at Level 5 or 6 for instance, she had the only example of Elven armor cuirass in her gameworld. But when she was in town, especially on Sundas, she'd wear rucksack clothes and dressed like a peasant without shoes. She would spend all day in chapels too, I mean, literally in real-time she would sit in chapel all day, while I ... did other things like surfed Beth's forums.

It was something neat which caused her game to feel very unique. Of course, this is something important for those of us who have a lot of people we're gaming with.

Anything to get rid of that funny talking fighters guild woman-- Ha ha glad you see the humor here!

~-~-~-~

Lena -- Yes...there's the famous quip from pissed-off NPCs in Oblivion: Stop.... TALKING!!!

Lena & macole-- WHOA Fortify Personality 40 points!!! I had no idea. All this time I've been looking for scrolls, heck, even the actual Charm spell for certain characters. Problem is scrolls are hard to find, and Charm is really expensive.

As much as I play these games, I don't know everything about them. Not that Joan'll ever drink something like this, but I have other characters who certainly would.

~-~-~-~-~

WellTemperedClavier -- Ain't that the truth (about Vivec). It's taken me a long time to begin learning how those cantons are arranged. I'm finally at the point where I can navigate the Foreign District, Hlaalu, Redoran, and Arena without consulting the map. I use shadows on the ground to figure out which direction to go. In other words, if it's morning, and my character's shadow's on the left, he or she is headed north.

But it has taken literal years to get to this point.

Joan's not an Impie though, she is Breton!

I am running out of stories to post. Been busy these last few weeks and all that. But fortunately I've got another Joan almost ready to go.

Chapter XXX -- Huleeya

15 Sun's Dusk, (Day 92), late afternoon

Need some information about an Argoninan? Who better to ask than somebody who's a descendant of Black Marsh? That's how Joan finds out about Huleeya, one of the three members she is to speak to on Caius's list. Huleeya is found in the Black Shalk Cornerclub, which is located in the Foreign Quarter's Lower Waistworks section.

She dresses herself in a tan cotton blouse and her new gray skirt. She heads to the club.

But as things go, it takes her a while to get there. The shy maiden-crusader from Cheydinhal frequently finds herself distracted into conversations as she walks, speaking to merchants, speaking to lollygaggers, and so on. As things go, she often ends each set of verbal exchanges with a compliment. Or some sort of pleasant notions, which are meant to brighten someone's day. Usually with positive results.

"Yes, that's better," Raig the Redguard, a fellow Fighters Guild member. "I've love to!"

"You noticed?" Rolasa Oren blushes, her greenish-blue face coloring aqua. "Yes, Joan of the Fighters Guild, it's true."

But then there are those who aren't so happy to hear her compliments, and who aren't necessarily pleased about her generalized positive observations.

"We're watching you... scum!" warns an ordinator.

"What pretty words, Holy Knight," a robe-wearing pauper says curtly. "And how artlessly self-serving."

By the time she gets to Black Shalk, several hours have passed, and mostly she's been indoors. The sun has probably gone down. Joan realizes she's about to walk into Morag Tong territory, where assassins can discuss their latest executions casually and freely. For the Tong is legal in Morrowind. Legal, and also necessary by some.

This is no matter to her. Into the club she walks. Icy stares greet her as she steps into the cornerclub. Gossip and banter come to an abrupt halt. Now is one of those times Joan Marie from Cyrodiil feels most like an Outlander. Her brown eyes move from one set of red eyes to the next. It's a tense moment.

Then finally ... "You may speak," says a nearby elf wearing rough yet elaborate clothes.

"Greetings Dunmer, my name is Joan," she begins. "Of the Fighters Guild."

"Get out of our way, n'wah," the rough-looking elf growls. He holds a flagon full of some sort of drink, which he places upon the table before him rather begrudgingly. "We got issues with this filthy lizard here."

Joan wonders why he tells her this; it's not like she's announced why she is here. Maybe the elf assumes that she (as a member of the guild) is here to do something about Huleeya? ... Otherwise, she is able to ignore the elf's insult, for she seems to be in the right place. "Yes, an Argonian by the name of Huleeya. Might he be present and perhaps nearby?"

"His kind aren't welcome here," rough-look grumbles. "He belongs in the swamp with the rest of them."

"Now, now. We all have a right to gather colloquially, do we not?" She smiles, despite insult number two being strewn about. "I do thank ye kindly, elf. May those who look over and above us all shine upon thy path."

"Goodness, Joan. What can I say?" the rough-looking customer says, apparently stunned.

The Cheydinhalian smiles again, briefly and grimly. She then raises her hands and makes a gesture, causing the room to fill with light and radiance. It's a rather bold move. The Black Shalk is rather dim, not just with a lack of ambient light sources, but also in spirit. There's a certain darkness which hangs in the air, akin to doom and desperation. Joan feels she must challenge this.

The club is filled with patrons, mostly Dunmer. There is just one Argonian in the room, which makes finding the 'filthy lizard' a cinch.

"Tell your friends about this place," greets the bartender as Joan walks by. This man is nicer than the one she'd just spoke to, maybe he's impressed by her possibly-errant display of magic. Joan rents a room from him, orders a yam, and gets into a bit of small-talk about Huleeya. Finally, she speaks to the Argonian.





"Summoned by annnother. Quessstions againnn."

"Huleeya? My name is Joan Marie, and I come to chat with you in regards of some rather umbrageous matters. Might we broach upon --." She stops herself, realizing she's speaking in a way which is perhaps too fancy. "Might we have a few words?"

The Argonian wears an odd combination of armor, mostly made of materials the Cyrodiilian cannot identify. Joan activates the Maraian magic in her amulet.

"I welcome you as the friend of my friend, Joan of Cheydinhal," the lizard greets, surprising her. How does Huleeya have knowledge of my name AND from where I hail? "But I wisssh to go to my friend's bookstore, and these troublesome folksss are in my way," he complains slowly.

"Oh my..."

Huleeya says he'll only speak to her further if they head to Jobasha's Rare Books first. The other Tong members do not like him, he states openly. He worries a fight could break out, if the wrong words get mentioned.

So off they go toward the Foreign Quarter's bookstore ... or so Joan thinks.

"DIE!!!"

And just like that, they are attacked by three Morag Tong ruffians, all who equip themselves with small hand weapons, all who start swinging and slashing. Magic is cast, both offensive and protective! -- The room blurs with fighting and sudden movement! -- The young crusader had not anticipated this, so she rushes behind the bar, as one of the Tong strikes in and attacks her! ... She takes a few cuts and a few jabs while the bartender who'd been so kind minutes ago merely stands in place. Does not want to be involved. Hey, this IS a Dark Elf bar, his casualness seems to suggest.

Joan tries to evade her attacker's blade, but within no time she's in danger of losing her health. So she casts a spell which instantly replenishes it. -- Yet the fight continues! -- She hadn't worn her armor tonight specifically because she hadn't wanted to brandish her Imperial Guild association, which would instantly cause her to be seen as even more of an outcast here; she had wanted to appear commonplace and ordinary. But now this doesn't seem such a great idea.

Still, she surprises herself, as she dodges and evades, unarmed and unarmored.

"HALT! IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS GRACIOUS!" she commands. ... But the fighting continues. It is too much for her. She can't get out from behind the bar!

Finally, she remembers she in fact does have a weapon. She unsheathes her Blade of Justice. Begins swinging and slashing at her opponent. Forces her way past her enemy, past the unconcerned barkeep, rushes out onto the cornerclub's entry floor. Now she is safe to leave the club if she so desires -- but Huleeya is trapped! Still engaged with the other two Tong roustabouts! -- She can't just leave him here.

She moves in. Lures the attackers away, and begins slashing with her knife. Each time her magical blade connects causes her opponents' strength and endurance to fail. As the brawl continues, one of the three ruffians falls to his death!

Eventually Huleeya finds an opening, and is lucky enough to side-step his large, scaly feet toward Joan. Both of them then manage to leave the pub together. Once outside, Joan heals herself grandly, before they both rush (literally run) across the Lower Waistworks plaza, and into Jobasha's Rare Books. Fortunately, none of the Tong attackers bother to follow. Perhaps they know they'd be in the wrong for doing so.

"Yesss, thank you very much," the Argonian hisses once they are inside the bookstore. "Now, I said I'd tell you about the Nerevarine Cult, so you can report back to Caiusss."

"C-Caius? ... You know Caius Cosades?"

Huleeya ignores her question, but has plenty to say about the cult. Firstly, Ashlanders see the Nerevar in a much different manner than those from Morrowind's Great Houses, the lizard rambles and spews what seems to be the entire history of the matter, his serrated jaw foaming a bit with spittle as he speaks. It's a lot of information. Thankfully, he is able to give her a hand-written summary of most of it. What has not been written, Joan struggles to scribble into her journal.

From what she's able to gather, it's the Ashlanders who believe most fervently in the Nerevar, and what he (or she) could possibly represent. The Ashlanders had been pushed aside over time, sometimes forced deep into dangerous and hostile territory by the Great Houses. And it's the Nerevar who the Ashlanders believe could possibly change this.

"The Temple treats the Nerevarine prophecies as heresy," Huleeva continues. "And the Temple imprisons and executes heretics, unless prevented by Imperial law. But since the Nerevarine Cult is hostile to the Empire, the Empire does not interfere when Temple persecutes the cult."

It's a lot to take in. But as Joan listens closely to the scaly one before her explain and pontificate, she begins to gain some wisdom. Wisdom, on how she can possibly make some sort of difference here. She hopes to speak to a Temple priest the very next day, after all.

Joan realizes she probably hasn't met any Ashlanders by now. But she already senses their plight. Pushed around, and moved aside, all because their beliefs do not coincide with what the Great Houses have become.

This could be just like Gnisis, she concludes, except on a much larger scale.

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

Attacked by the Tong!


I took a bunch of pictures as the Black Shalk Cornerclub fight commenced... or at least I thought I did. I thought I was hitting PrintScreen folks, while also moving controller joysticks around and mashing buttons! But the pic above is the only one which showed in the Screenshots folder! ... Dang.

I like how ‘the shy maiden-crusader from Cheydinhal’ chats with locals trying to spread some good cheer. As she discovers, it oft works. And those who don’t appreciate her kind intentions. . . well, jerks will be jerks the worlds over.

A dark Morag Tong bar – what could go wrong here? For those not able to summon a weapon, carrying a dagger when traveling inconspicuously is most prudent it sure was good that Joan had one. Even though she just met her scaled contact, she naturally feels obliged to save his tail while saving herself.

And a productive conversation the two finally have!

Lollygaggers? Lollygaggers! No lollygaggin'! (At least that is what the Skyrim guards always say. I think it was the ones from Skyrim.)

"We're watching you... scum!" warns an ordinator.
They say that to everyone!

Uh oh, looks like a ill-tempered Tong swit, in need of a swat.

Well, Joanie tried playing nice. But some people you cannot be nice to. It is the paradox of tolerance.

Joan acquits herself well, at least well enough to get Huleeya away safe and sound. Good thing she knows those healing spells.

But in the end she gets the goods from the Argonian, and learns something new about Morrowind and its people.

I know I've mentioned this before, but I still love how you showcase the sheer oddness of the game's interactions. The way that Joan charms the xenophobic Dark Elf is a great example. From hostility to "Goodness, what can I say?" in a few well-chosen words.

Plus, it's fun to see how she rationalizes the odd events around her. The tong thugs can't follow her because Morrowind doesn't let NPCs go from one cell to another, even in pursuit, but in her mind, it's because they know it's too risky. There's a whole other layer to this story if you're familiar with the game's mechanics.



Because he knows the magic word of "%PCName"!

I laughed each time that you mentioned the immobile barkeep.

Quite a tense story, I already forgot that we get attacked by thugs during this quest.

Hey it's good to see all these stories here at Chorrol. These times are golden, right?

Well illl keep it breif .... I'll keep it brief.


@Lopov-- It was very tense! In fact the scene in the Cornerclub reminds me of the scene you made for Vicious's game. I had to react quickly in both situations. I would say Joan's experience was edgier, mostly because she had to wait for Huleeya.

Which actually was unnecessary. All she had to do was leave the club, and the filthy lizard would follow her. But I didn't know this at the time!


@WellTemperedClavier -- Some of the conversations in my stories are definitely odd, especially from your point of view as a newcomer. 🎆Because sometimes I'll literally write what they say, along with what my character says. This has been a long-standing habit which began when making Oblivion stories years ago. And as you may know, they've got some really bizarre conversations in that game!



Exactly what I was saying up above. Skyrim is similar to Morrowind: in both games it's rare an NPC can follow us into another cell. But we didn't know this at the time. In a way, it's better that we didn't know. Made the story more dicey!


@Acadian -- Yes, as I've said, I love the way Speech works in this game! ... It's like an addiction for me, trying to get NPCs to like my character one at a time. Whenever I game with one of my other MW characters (both who are nefarious, and don't care if others like them), I find myself missing this feature.

Most times, my people are in the habit of carrying at least one weapon, usually a small one, as they go into more civilized places. Just in case! ... But I actually forgot Joan had her blade for a few seconds.


@SubRosa- -- It's so awesome when they say "We're watching you... scum!" ... I think that was the first time an Ordinator said that to my goody toon. I was sort of surprised. Hey! She's not going to do anything wrong!

Yes, in the end she got was Caius wants from the lizard. Joan also is getting pretty intrigued about this as well.

Chapter XXXI -- Mehra Milo

17 Sun's Dusk (Day 94)

Location: Vivec, Foreign Quarter, Fighters Guild


As she begins this day, Joan is noticeably less cheerful, definitely less optimistic. Being attacked in public, amongst a roomful of city-dwelling roustabouts, but then having nobody come to your aid once you've escaped and gathered your wits can do that to a person. What'd happened was no common barroom brawl, no, it was a fight to the death, right in the middle of a city teeming with thousands.

And it happened here, in the Foreign District, somewhere below her feet.

She cannot get over this. If yesterday's incident at the Black Shalk had occurred down in Cyrodiil, her assailants would've been confronted by the law in no time. Arrested, possibly thrown in jail, possibly beaten by guards until dead or unconscious. She'd seen this first-hand, outside of Cheydinhal's Newlands Lodge. Any bit of a ruckus which became physical, and into the tavern those townie guards went. Didn't matter if Newlands was a dark elf bar or not, there was simply no fooling around when it came to assaults and fighting.

At times, it was uncanny how quickly those guards would react; it was as if they somehow knew.

Well, Joan of Cyrodiil is certainly longer in Cyrodiil. From now on, it'd be eyes wide open, with a guarded mind and shielded heart, at least while she's here in Vivec. Caius's assignment was supposed to be a mundane trip to gather information, or so she'd assumed. It wasn't supposed be dangerous (or so she'd assumed).

"Speak traveller!"

As she awakes on Sun's Dusk 17 and begins planning her day, she scoffs the idea of going shoeless. Maybe in some small village this might be okay, and they'd adored her 'show of humility' up in Gnisis. But after what happened yesterday in the Cornerclub, her views of the big, complicated city of Vivec have changed. This is her second visit the city so far. One thing is true: nobody cares much about an Outlander, dressed down like a commoner, asking questions about sensitive subjects.

"Thankfully, I sha'n't be traipsing toward the Black Shalk today..."

Her next subject to interview is Mehra Milo, a priestess of Vivec's Hall of Wisdom. Joan is to head south to the Temple Compound, where Mehra dwells.

She thinks of bringing her guard along, but after re-reading the note Caius'd given her, she decides against this. Apparently, speaking too much about Mehra in public is not recommended, lest she attract the wrong sort of attention. It would make even less sense if Joan showed with what could appear as an extra show of force, one which is out-of-place deep in Dunmer territory.

So ... no guard. Which means extra prayers to Dibella and Julianos, of course. She also makes a trip to the smith across from the guild. Here she buys herself a cuirass made of glued-together insect exoskeletons called 'chitin', which is a native material commonly worn here in Morrowind.

"I shall still appear as an Outlander, this I cannot deny."

But it's better than appearing as an Imperial-sponsored lackey. Or so she hopes.


Mid-Morning

"I can see by your outfit that your affairs have prospered," a Dunmer resident tells Joan as she makes her way through the canton of Redoran. The elf is dressed in dark clothes, and has an air of quiescence about him.

"Many thanks, squire." Seems her choice of apparel was a good thing. "And how fares thee on this blustery day?"

"Have you heard about the new secret cult, the Sixth House?" the resident then asks, rather bluntly.

"By glory, it is by chance that I certainly have."

Now this is odd. Huleeya the Morag Tong Argonian couldn't tell her anything about the Sixth House, yet here she was being offered information from a random town-goer. How could this be? -- Though it's broad daylight and other Vivec residents were around and about, Joan cannot help but feel as if she's suddenly being watched.

"They say they sit around in caves, cutting off pieces of their own flesh and eatin' it! It's that corprus disease," says the Dunmer. "Makes the flesh grow wild and crazy. Cut a piece off, and another piece grows back, bigger and better. Guards say, 'We're looking into it.' ... Right. That makes me feel better."

"Well. That should cause a prospective apprentice to think twice about signing for enrollment," the Cheydinhalian jokes.

"Safe travels, sera." The elf wearing dark clothes walks away.

Strange.


Mid-day
Vivec's Tribunal Temple Compound is an exceptionally-bizarre place to visit for a first-timer from Cyrodiil. It's got an open-air plateau, statues of figures she cannot identify, and a particular 'feel' which causes her to stop and wonder. Oddest of all, an entire portion of what seems to be the temple floats high above the plaza! Joan Marie of Cheydinhal finds herself awed. She's got her Nine, and has no desire to begin revering the gods worshipped by the Dunmer. But look at what their set of beliefs have inspired!




She locates the Hall of Wisdom, which is an intricate maze-like dwelling beneath the High Fane. Luckily, Joan the incidental Blade is able to locate Mehra Milo quickly, after getting a tip that she resides within the temple's library.

"Yes I'm Mehra Milo," says the priestess quietly. Mehra wears a thick green robe, perhaps to fend off the chill within the room. "Caius sent you?"

Joan Marie answers with a nod.

"We can't talk here," the dark elf priestess whispers. "Come with me, back to the library."

Joan follows Milo into the library's main reading room, which is full of pleasant smells of parchments and bindings. The pair walks between two shelves packed with books and tomes. As Joan walks in front of Milo, then turns to face her, she notices an Ordinator has followed them both. Is this coincidence?

Eyes wide open, with a guarded mind and shielded heart.

"Go ahead," the priestess begins. She picks up a book from the shelf, which seems an effort to appear nonchalant. "I'm afraid I don't know anything about a Sixth House, but I can tell you about the Nerevarine Cult."

According to Milo, the Temple does recognize the Nerevar as some sort of saint and hero, but does not believe that such a person shall ever return. This contradicts the thinkings of the Ashlanders, of course. "The Nerevarine Cult claims the Tribunal are false gods, hence the Temple's persecution of the cult," she informs.

But there is a group within the Temple called the Dissident Priests, who dispute the Temple's doctrine on this matter. Unfortunately, being a Dissident Priest means breaking Temple rules. To be discovered as a dissident within Vivec means to be arrested, imprisoned, possibly executed!

Mehra Milo suggests Joan finds a book called 'Progress of Truth', reads it, and gives this book to Caius Cosades. There's a copy somewhere here in the Temple Compound, but the book has been outlawed by the Tribune. "And I fear I'm being watched by Ordinators," she says nervously.

"You are, actually," Joan says quietly, pretending to gaze through one of the torrid Barenziah editions. "There is one, standing nearby."

"A safer plan would be to search local booksellers," the priestess suggests. "Some booksellers ignore Temple bans on outlawed books, for profit, or for principles."

Joan Marie quietly makes note of this. As the pair of whisperers break conversation, she makes sure to ready a healing spell in her mind, just in case.

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

Vivec Sunrise

Joan in Chitin

Mehra Milo

Vivec Sunset

Notes: I added a bunch of generic Vivec Residents into the outdoor portions of several cantons, just so there's more NPCs walking around, and the place is beginning to feel more like a city. Oddly, it was one of these random towngoers who was able to tell Joan about the Sixth House.

Nice nod to the telephathic abilities of the guards in Oblivion.

I love that the random NPC is a better source of information than some of the regular ones that are part of the quest!

Looks like it might be time to head over to Jobasha's Rare Books, back in the Foreign Quarter.