I very much like how Joan considers and adjusts her appearance and presentation carefully based on mission and tactical considerations. Like wearing a Daria bug hat cuirass.

More subterfuge it seems, but at least Joan is more prepared today to defend herself.

"And how fares thee on this blustery day?"
- - Skillfully and efficiently done, sharing with us that that it is a blustery day via dialogue rather than describing the weather via narrative.

And now, off to hunt down a heretical book.

Morrowind does have a way of hardening the visitor, and it looks like it's finally happening to Joan, at least a little bit. The province is definitely one where you have to watch out for yourself (not that Cyrodiil is devoid of such areas, *cough cough* Bravil *cough*).

On the plus side, she is making progress. Wonder what she'll think about the whole Nerevarine thing as she gets more involved?

Life's been busy, and sometimes we gotta attend to these events, right? Daughter's back in college, basically. But besides all of that, the final part of Vivec Informants took an incredible amount of time.

@SubRosa: Not just a random NPC, but one of the random NPCs which I added to Vivec's outdoor cantons. I don't know how to make quests or dialog yet for Morrowind, nor am I interested in learning at the moment. So that was pretty bizarre.

@Acadian: My characters (some of them) are concerned about what others think. Hera Tyych for instance is part of Morag Tong, which is similar to Dark Brotherhood. Whenever she's on a writ to assissinate her next target, my gosh does she put a lot of thought into changing clothes, wearing helmets, and so on. It's quite a lot of fun from my perspective.

And yes, blustery! It's Sun's Dusk after all!

@WellTemperedClavier: You said it, man. Vvardenfell can really harden an Outlander. No silly Cyrodiilic conversations to chuckle over, no goofy faces behind those counters, and Joan (who was practically an adult when she was a child) is finding herself growing up even faster.

I appreciate everyone's attention. Next chapter should be up in a few...

Chapter XXXII -- Vivec Informants III: Addhiranirr

18 Sun's Dusk (Day 95), early morning


The final tryst on Caius's list is with Addhiranirr, a Khajiit Thieves Guild operative who supposedly dwells in St. Olms Canton. She'd already been to St. Olms a few days ago, yet was unable to locate this particular cat-person, nor was she able to even find the Thieves Guild.

"Good morning!"
"How are you today?"

She breaks her night's fast on the 18th day of Sun's Dusk with a meal of kwama eggs and saltice. Today she'll need to look for Addhiranirr again, this time focusing on any sort of cornerclub which resides within the canton. One thing’s for sure, if the Thieves Guild is nestled somewhere in Vivec, they aren’t going to be in the habit of advertising their location. But the nefarious organizations of Vvardenfell seem to be in the habit of residing within these so-called cornerclubs.

She dons a new, second cuirass made of boiled leather (which she'd bought the day before) and decides to wear boots. She puts the Imperial gauntlets she'd worn the day before into her personal Fighters Guild chest, again fearing she’ll be noticed by the wrong person perhaps, if she’s wearing anything Imperial-made. She grabs her Daggar of Judgment and her cheap iron mace, and also her bagful of potions. Off she goes.

Starting down one of the long Foreign Quarter ramps, Joan remembers the dream she'd had the night before. In it, she'd been approached by an ominous gold-masked figure. The figure tried to cast some sort of magic, but the rest was vague. That was all she could recall. But it's the overall feeling of the dream which now catches her attention. It was not a good one.

She walks briskly, then she slows.

Something is wrong.

She rounds the corner to the left, walks halfway across the canton's second tier, and begins down one of its lower ramps.

"Haaaa!"

Somebody's rushing toward her, up the ramp from below! ... Whoever it is, he catches Joan off-guard. Again, this is the metropolis of Vivec. Who would expect to be attacked right here in the city?! She can see he’s an elf, a Dunmer who draws his weapon. Her first instinct is to fall back, which is a good choice in such a situation, because you never know who's about to trounce. It doesn't appear the elf wears any armor at all. But still, is her opponent some sort of grand master of weaponry? ... Best not to find out the wrong way.

Luckily for her there's an Ordinator nearby. -- "Halt right there, scum!" he calls, rounding the corner at full gallop, golden armor clanking. Joan sidesteps to the right to let the guard by, and though she readies her blade, the fight is over within three seconds, - "Ugh!" - with her adversary falling to a quick death.

The Ordinator sheaths his weapon, then turns to her. "If you're here for trouble," he says with his gravelly voice, "you'll get more than you bar-gained for."

Joan is too stunned to reply. The guard continues his patrol, as if nothing just happened. As he walks away, the Cheydinhalian tentatively decides to loot the prowler's body. Because at the moment, she's only got 36 gold to her name. If her attacker had anything of value, every little bit helps. Oddly, he hadn't been wearing any clothes or armor (he'd attacked wearing underclothes!) but he'd been wearing a helmet made of rare orcish material upon his head, which Joan quickly removes, and puts in her rucksack.

She continues on toward St. Olms, questions arise. Who was the elf who'd just surprised her? And did he have anything to do with Caius’s quest for information?




Joan reaches St. Olms by early afternoon when the sun's at its highest. First person she meets is a Nord who lives in a single room on the base of the canton. This Nord is an outlander like herself, named Hroa. Because Hroa seems to be in the same predicament as Joan (both of them are from outside the province), she decides the Nord is safe enough to speak with.

"Might you have knowledge regarding one local Khajiit by the name of Addhiranirr?" Joan cautions after some initial small talk.

"That sneak? She'll be here in St. Olms somewhere, although if the heat's on, she may not be parading around in public," Hroa informs, scoffing a bit. "Ask around. Perhaps someone else has seen her."

Ask around? Absolutely not. Too risky. Exactly what Caius warned she shouldn’t do. But it is interesting that the cat's name is known to the very first person Joan speaks to.

As she continues her search, she learns that St. Olms is a canton dedicated mostly to residencies. Elves, people, and beastfolk can purchase their own homes here, and this gives Joan an idea. Perhaps the Khajiit is holed up in one of the canton's many apartments and flats. If so, he'll be easy enough to find; there aren't very many of his kind in Vivec, after all.

She hasn’t much luck, though. She checks all the residences, all the shops, all the trade halls and unions. Overall, it takes seven more days to locate the Thieves Guild operative. Her search takes her deep into St. Olms's Underworks, but thankfully not past any locked doors. When she finally spots Addhiranirr, it’s merely while the aloof thief standing in an open section of the Underworks, right next to the smelly canal itself, not really hiding at all.




25 Sun's Dusk (Day 102), early morning




"Great. So Caius says to you, 'Speak with Addhiranirr.' And you have done this thing."

"Aye," Joan says. “As you have discerned, I am sent from Caius.”

"You are speaking with Addhiranirr. But Addhiranirr will not talk to you about the Nerevarine or the Sixth House cult. And because why?"

Joan the aspiring Blade does not reply, but she’s expecting some sort of roadblock here, some sort of reason why she cannot just ask her questions, get some answers, and move on. Everybody wants something, after all. Question is, what does the cat want?

"Because Addhiranirr is, at the moment, very distracted by a nice Census and Excise agent. Who also wants to speak with her."

Joan smiles briefly. "I ascertain some involvement concerning craftiness might be reckoned, eh? To put it shortly, perhaps something can be arranged regarding the agent?”

Everybody wants something. Addhiranirr tells Joan there's a Census and Excise agent here in St. Olms who wants to find her, apparently for getting in trouble with the law somehow. "Addhiranirr wants Caius's friend to make the agent go away. Get rid of himmm."

At first, Joan thinks the cat wants her to kill the agent, which is simply not going to happen. Joan of Cheydinhal is not trying to become any sort of murderer, after all. Thankfully, this is not the case. Addhiranirr doesn't tell Joan the name of the agent (which leads to some confusion...), but Joan eventually locates him. His name is Duvianus Platorius, and he tends to frequent the main plaza of the canton's Waistworks.

After speaking with Duvianus for a few minutes (including her usual attempts at charisma-boosting), Joan broaches the subject of the missing, sneaky Khajiit everyone's looking for. Turns out, she doesn't need to kill the Census Agent to "get rid of him", she can just use words to convince the guy, who hasn't got a clue the cat-person can be found literally two stories below. But she does need to make a moral decision. Should she tell the agent where Addhiranirr can be found? Or should she lie?

Thankfully, the agent is reasonable.

"What a disappointment," he says. "But thank you for your time. I was just heading back to the mainland myself, anyway..."

She is able to persuade him by making a few misleading statements. Though she feels conflicted about this, Caius's orders must be met, which means the greater good must prevail.


Later that day…

"So. You are the one Addhiranirr must thank for getting rid of the annoying Census and Excise agent?"

"Consider thyself pardoned," Joan of Cheydinhal answers.

With the agent distracted for the time being, the floodgate of information begins. About the Nerevarine Cult: The thief tells her to tell Caius the Nerevar is nothing but ‘a bunch of silly superstitions’. "Fuzzy tales for fuzzy little kitties," as she puts it.

But concerning the Sixth House, she has more to say. "This … Addhiranirr knows about, because it is about smuggling. Some smart smugglers are suddenly too busy for their old clients…"

Smugglers?

The smugglers the cat speaks of no longer smuggle, and it's because they are now involved with the Sixth House, which is known to pay them handsomely.

"But what do they smuggle now? Addhiranirr does not know, because they are very secret. The smugglers hush-up now, like fat-belied kitties full of sweet meats."

The thief also tells Joan that smuggling is big business here in Vvardenfell. The Imperials have outlawed the trading of illicit substances such as skooma and moon sugar, but also non-lethal items and materials such as ebony, Dwemer artifacts, exotic weapons and armor, and (sadly) slaves. Because of these limits, smuggling has become more prolific...

Which makes those who've decided to stop their illegal trade to join the Sixth House all the more intriguing.


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

The dream of the golden mask

Joan’s strange Vivec city attacker (I was too slow with the Printscreen button to get a good AcTiOn shot.

Joan proudly water walks!

Random Dunmer tells Joan more about the Sixth House (this guy just walked up to her in the middle of Balmora and started blabbing nonsense).

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

Notes: She'd been in Vivec now for five days by the time she started looking for Addhiranirr, which means she spent almost two weeks in Vivec. Much more time than we thought. From my perspective of course, it’s because I refuse to go on UESP to look for answers…

But other than that, this was one of the most frustrating quests. Because for example: never does the kitty-cat say the name of the Census and Excise agent. Which made us think it's the guy we first meet in Seyda Neen. Yeah... I wasted an entire game session there, folks.

But better news: The prowler Joan got attacked by was a blessing in disguise. He was carrying an expensive Orcish helmet, which Joan looted and sold for about 500 drakes. Because of this extra money she was able to buy her new Water Walking spell, use a Spellmaker to make it easier to cast (30 seconds instead of a full 60), purchase a second cuirass, and generally fund her way (meals, potions, etc.) as she got stuck here in Vivec.

I think one of the points of a Thieves Guild is that outsiders are unable to find it...

Now Joanie is thinking right. Forget the libraries, check the speakeasies.

Now that was interesting. Someone just attacked her on the street. I do not think that has ever happened in any of my games.

Addhiranirr has a wonderfully obtuse way of speaking.

And Joanie gets the Census and Excise agent to shoo himself away (everyone always wants them gone, don't they?) and gets the goods from Addie. Smugglers now smuggling... who knows what from the Sixth House. That sounds nefarious.

I see you're doing it the hard way, Renee - and gosh, Vivec is hard! Completely infuriating! I think I got about where you are now in the main quest when I tried playing Morrowind years ago, then I spent days and days and days of actual real time getting lost in Vivec... Never mind finding what I was looking for, but just figuring out where I was! That and the walls of text for dialogue was what killed that game for me back then. I am taking it easy with Vivec now that Hauk is doing Morroblivion, I don't want to get lost again quite as badly... Good thing he isn't doing the main quest. At least not very far in, although he did get just that assignment from Caius the other day... We'll see. Perhaps I'll just follow Joan around.

Attacked by a Dunmer in his skivvies with a helmet. . . well, I suppose that’s no worse than being attacked by some dude in the loo wearing a giant rat head. Regardless, the Dumbner successfully commits suicide by Ordinator.

Joan finds her elusive feline target and, after the obligatory favor, gets the cat to spill some beans.

’The thief also tells Joan that smuggling is big business here in Vvardenfell. The Imperials have outlawed the trading of illicit substances such as skooma and moon sugar, but also non-lethal items and materials such as ebony, Dwemer artifacts, exotic weapons and armor, and (sadly) slaves. Because of these limits, smuggling has become more prolific...’
- - Some things never change, regardless of time or place. Making something illegal is a superb way to enrich the black marketeers that inhabit every civilization.

Poor Joan. She doesn't yet know that the only way to get an Ordinator's attention is to wear their armor. Granted, it's probably not the attention she would want, but it is a pretty reliable means.

Finding anything or anyone in Vivec ends up taking forever. But she managed the situation reasonably well. I always liked how Morrowind justified the massive presence of smugglers by having them be pawns of the Sixth House. Shows how it spreads like a cancer within Dunmer society.

Of course, if she'd been searching around St. Delyn, she might've gotten a much closer encounter with the Sixth House...

Ah yes, fond memories of Vivec City. I’ll go back there someday.

Eventually after years, I got use to the layout. Open cantons would have made Vivec City much better. Always want to try one of those mods but didn’t cause I heard they need a beast of a PC.

Why didn’t the agent find Addhiranirr? Because, as you said it's the smell. Like a dead skunk in the middle of the road it stinks to high heaven. No one goes down there unless they have too.

I'm nervous about reading today's comments for some reason I think I know what's coming.

@macole: I've memorized the layout of ALL the cantons by now, by golly we back 'n' forthed them so many times. After a while, I finally figured out where all the ferrymen are. 🚣‍♀️ They help a lot with cutting down travel time.

Yes an Open Canton sort of mod for Vivec sounds scary. Open Cities for Oblivion works well, but the open city mod I used for Skyrim messed up my game for a while. So ... let's stick with closed cantons. I honestly don't mind.

That's clever what you say about the sewers. Never thought of it that way.
--------------------
@Clavier: Very true, it can take all day (in-game) if we have to go to a canton, and then go back all the way because we forgot something. And it is REALLY easy for me to forget stuff.

The Sixth House is a huge mystery for me, since it's my first time playing the main quest!
----------------------
@ Acadian: Ha ha, that's true! At least there aren't any mouse costumes in MW.

Yes sir, what the Imperials have done has only made things worse. I especially get sad about the slaves part. Their life is hard enough, but being smuggled into a strange land makes things even worse.
----------------
Lena: Mm hmm I hear ya. It definitely takes a lot of patience, discipline even, for me to figure out this game sometimes. In a way, I don't mind the challenges, but I definitely would have written some things different if I were a dev.

The text walls don't really bother me, what I was really surprised about is the way the game's dialogs have so much cut 'n' paste! That's something I'm missing from latter games: each named NPC in OB and Skyrim might not have as many topics as MW, but they've all got their own unique dialog. Even generic NPCs have a long list of random sayings. In Morrowind, hundreds of people have the exact same responses.

That's great Hauk is in Morroblivion.

Chapter XXXIII: The Apprentice Returns


The middle-aged Grand Spymaster awoke early. Had a sip of room-temperature (day-old) sujamma, and reached for his pipe. His skooma pipe, that is, until he physically stopped himself. -- Urk! -- This was a bad thing, his frequent use of the drug, and it was only getting worse. First thing in the morning... was this how it was going to be for the rest of his days?

Partially it was a good way to stave off boredom, partially he’d begun quietly using the stuff to keep from standing out. Lots of folks used the stuff here on the east side, you see. But as days turned to weeks which turned to months, the demons he had heard of all his life in an academic sort of way became more an everyday reality.

On the other hand, it was difficult for him to spend so much time waiting for word from Cyrodiil. It was the sort of thing which could drive a lesser, more impatient man bonkers. Moon sugar products definitely did fill up those hours.

But Caius Cosades knew he could not maintain his illicit needs and habits forever. His stocky frame and magnificent health, amassed through decades of hypertrophic discipline, would eventually diminish if he kept this lifestyle going. He had a lot going for him physically of course, and to some extent he could continue as he was for a while..

Caius decided he had to come up with some other ways to fill his time during his current stint as an Emperor’s Blade-hiding-in-plain-sight.

He increased his reading, and began spending more hours outside his hovel. He wandered the streets east of the river, watching its residents, speaking to the class of Balmora’s inhabitants he felt safest amongst, learning local lore. Turns out, he could keep himself freer from his addiction just by maintaining these habits. Even though it was not part of his assignment, he also began to spend more time just listening to chatter in the streets.

There were plenty of provincial tales to be told, which in turn kept the aging Blade amused for hours on end. An example happened just a couple years prior, according to one of Caius’s neighbors.

The Fighters Guild was sometimes contracted to get rid of rats here in town, and usually the task was given to those who’d just joined the guild. Well in one of these instances, two members had purposely been given the same extermination job: one an apprentice, the other a veteran of the guild.

The apprentice, a young man, was eager to prove himself. He strode off immediately to find the invasive rodent. The veteran, a middle-aged Nord, complained the assignment was far beneath him; he should at least be given guard duty. But eventually he complied with the task. Both guild members discovered the location of the giant rat, but by the time they had, a third party (a Khajiit who had nothing to do with the guild) had been the one to rid it!

Another of Caius’s recent habits was people-watching. He’d spend hours sitting on his stoop, watching the comings and goings of Balmora’s residents. Lately he’d been noticing a red-haired Breton on his side of the river. As days passed, he saw her more and more often. She’d be gone a few days, then he’d see her milling about. She had fair skin and strikingly brilliant crimson hair. It was obvious to him (and to others on the east side) she was a newcomer to town.

Eventually he learned her name from a chapman who lived nearby: Hera Tyych. The chapman also informed Caius that Hera was rumored to be a member of Morag Tong.

One day Caius spotted Hera, and decided to follow her, see where it was she headed to. Her destination happened to be the home of Balyn Omarel, who Caius later learned had recently gone missing. Again and again Hera, who was known to be an assassin, would return to Balmora, spending her nights in the home of a man who’d abruptly disappeared. Talk about putting two and two together, eh?

It was anecdotes like this which kept Cosades occupied for brief moments at a time. He'd pore over these notions for hours, thinking of this and that, keeping his mind active...

But, news from Vivec was about to arrive. As the month of Sun's Dusk headed toward Evening star, he began to get the sense the apprentice would soon return.




29 Sun's Dusk (Day 106) high noon

"Are you here to discuss your orders, Joan of Cyrodiil? Or is there something else you want?"

Finally, the Apprentice was here, which would fill a few hours for sure. The last time he'd seen her, she'd been upbeat and jokey, teasing him for always being shirtless.

"I am ready, Caius."

But today, she is different... 'I am ready, Caius', she begins; just four words. Caius stared at her a moment. She appeared pensive and somber, completely unlike the way she was a month ago. Where was the loquacious, teasing young lady from before? Gone, that's where. Maybe gone for good. And Caius certainly knew why.

"I have your report," he started dryly, "and I'll make copies of your notes from Huleeya and the 'Progress of Truth.' Give me time to read and digest all of this..."

It's because of what she had seen, and experienced, while she was in Vivec. Bad things. Two attacks on her life were at the top of that list. Subterfuge and caution. She'd had to improvise and devise new tactics, stuff she probably hadn't been trained back in Cheydinhal. The twinkle in her eye from before was not here today.

But she'd also done well in the city. She had, in a way, done exactly what a Blade laying low should do. Keeping the chattiness to a minimum, for instance. Not attracting attention to herself, by not being herself. That must not have been easy for an eloquent sort such as her.

It was time for the Apprentice to move up in rank.

"You're doing good work Joan Marie, and so I'm promoting you to Journeyman."

She smiled briefly, and that was all.

"Here are 200 drakes," Caius handed her a sack-full of coin. "Go out and treat yourself to a new pair of shoes," he joked.

The Grand Spymaster had no current orders from Cyrodiil for her, so he suggested she go back into the world. Do a few more tasks for the guilds. She would eventually 'know' when to come back to him.

The pair of Blades spent the next several hours together, talking in low tones.


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

Hera Tyych is one of my other characters. Here she is on her way about to assassinate somebody. Notice her garb. Every time Hera's got a new writ and is closing in on her target, she drastically changes clothes to throw off witnesses! Even though the Morag Tong operates legally in Vvardenfell, she still feels it's necessary to change her looks.

Here she is water-walking.

Here she is in Ald Velothi (I think).

That is what she normally wears while traveling: chain cuirass, expensive pants (the color varies) and whatever boots she's bought latest. Oh, and she often wears those Dark Brotherhood gloves. Those are from the DB guy who comes after us, early in the game.

Unfortunately, Caius has found that going undercover as a drug addict, tends to just make you a drug addict.

Hypertrophic - now you have me looking up words.

You have me smiling at Caius reminiscing over the exploits of Kavon the Mighty, Fox, Willow, and J'dash Ratslayer...

For a moment I wondered if that red-haired Breton might be Blood Raven. But no, it is Hera Tyych! That is a name I have not heard in a while.

And Joan comes back older, wiser, and harder than before.

I too believe I heard about Balmora's latest ratcapades.

I see shoeless Joan's teasing of the shirtless Caius comes full circle.

Hmm, I wonder if Caius' assessment of Joan's more subdued demeanor is accurate?

Loved the POV section with Caius. I love how Morrowind was able to create such an intriguing character with very little in the way of exposition. He's an old spy with a drug problem (maybe) who also happens to have fantastic abs. I'd always envisioned him as someone who was effectively addicted to skooma, but whose biochemistry had reached some level of equilibrium with it (how long this equilibrium lasts is another question entirely).

Appreciate the reference to the rat job! Though you might want to have Caius recall that the Khajiit who killed the rat was actually the guy who hired the guild in the first place. Another example of how shoddy the guild has become.

Good seeing his appraisal of Joan. She's become much more skilled in navigating Morrowind, and that sort of thing will show. But like always, Joan has to match her cover story, which means more time doing guild work.

Awesome, Clavier. I like blending character worlds sometimes; it just makes the story feel broader. I've probably had everyone here at Chorrol (and some folks from Beth's forums when they were open) in my stories in some small way here and there. Some facts got muddled that's true, but this can happen when tales are passed along over time.

Ha ha glad you caught the "shoeless" and "shirtless" bit there, Acadian! ... After the story was posted I realized I hadn't pointed that out, but maybe it's actually better that the references are subtle.

Joan (as she appears in Oblivion) is quite demure and steadfast. She's no longer a shy maiden trying to be chatty as she appears some earlier chapters of this story. I imagine that when she gets to Cyrodiil some 7 years later, she's a much different person.

I had to look up hypertrophic myself. I needed a word which describes somebody who has built up some muscles, but I didn't want to say "muscled" because I'd already used that word, and I didn't want to say "stacked" because that sounds too modern Earth-times. Too dude-ish. "Bro, you are stacked!" That just doesn't work in high fantasy.

Yes, Hera's my assassin character. I don't know enough about Branwen's exploits to write them up. But remember I did write up when January came to Megaton that one time, because you had some pictures which definitely had her passing through. Her armor is so wild, something nobody would miss.


Um, this next story is sort of lower inspiration, maybe a 5 out of 10 on the Inspiration meter. Not my best. But it does continue my Main Quest lady's development. And I've been slipping lately with the "weekly" stories, so here goes.

Chapter XXXIV -- The Snowy Crown

18 Sun's Dusk (Day 95), early morning





”During the career of any warrior, any magician, any paladin, any knight-in-training, there comes that moment when he or she begins to break away the plight of the novice, and enters the domain of the skillful. From that moment, these individuals can only continue to hone on toward mastery….”

These were the words of one of Joan’s instructors back home, and they came to the young Blade as she found herself striking down the giant creature before her, a mighty two-legged kagouti, just outside the town of Caldera … with just two strikes. After doing so she looked to her guard (who’d come rushing over to help) his sword of silver raised in mid-swing.

“Ehm. I suppose I handled that one,” she mutters, surprised.

The sudden shift of Joan’s stint as an outlanding crusader here in Vvardenfell began not at that moment, but two days earlier, after she entered the Mages Guild of Balmora. She’d just been paid by Caius for her efforts down in Vivec. Endowed with nearly 500 drakes, it was time to find somewhere to meaningfully spend it! She’d gone into the guild with the intent of having a new spell written by Estirdalin, one which would enhance her healing abilities slowly over time.

… But let’s just say she got a little distracted...

… Distracted by a shiny, golden mace sold by Galbedir, Balmora’s enchanter. The shiny, golden mace cost just over 400 gold; quite an expenditure for someone constantly struggling with coin. It was made of Dwarven metal, meaning it was more effective than her cheaper iron piece. It was guaranteed to do more damage. But it also could magically affect her enemies with frost damage, and quite a lot of it.

“Your opponents will not stand a chance against this!” Galbedir, a cultured Bosmer who'd probably never seen actual combat outside of guild sparring, promised. The weapon Joan Marie just bought is a very rare piece called the Snowy Crown. And it entirely changed her efforts at combat.

Over the past couple months she’d been using the short blades (knives, daggars, scabbards…) less and less, switching instead to an iron mace, which she purchased for just 35 drakes. Her new weapon was heavy and unwieldy, and she found she needed to build her strength just to effectively use it. It was quite an awkward and difficult diversion for her, to tell the honest truth. But she’d had a reason for the switch.

Short blades were the weapons of “rogues, thieves, and charlatans”, or so she’d concluded after encountering several bandits who preferred them. They were the weapons used by those who “dwelt within darkness, eschewing the light”.

Maces, on the other hand, were big and bold; they could be banged past the thickest of armor, smashed into skeletons, and wielded upon wastrels. Maces were the weapons of clerics: those who blended a mixture of healing and fighting skills. And though she herself was not specifically trained in the ways of the cleric, it was just before heading into Andrano Ancestral Tomb to retrieve that ghastly skull that the inspiration to switch weapon types came to her.

As stated, it hadn’t been an easy switch. During her youth she’d been trained at blades because they were lightweight, requiring agility rather than pure strength, and back then she was still developing her form. After changing to blunt-type weapons, she found herself struggling against many encounters. Swinging but not always connecting, unable to take her opponents down, and that sort of thing. She needed to become more vigorous; she needed to build her fortitude and tenacity.

Joan started by giving small amounts of money to Fighters Guild trainers: 60 drakes, 75 drakes, whatever she could spare for a few hours of lessons here and there. She also began repairing her own weapons and armor pieces. Instead of giving her hard-earned gold to armorers, she purchased time to use their forges. And though she was not so good at fixing her own gear at first, over time her efforts had the side-effect of making her stronger.

Her adolescent form was becoming hardened, yet still maintained enough pliability so that she remained flexible and adept during her attempts at melee. Slowly, fight after fight, and Joan did find herself getting better at blunt weaponry.

And now, she has the Snowy Crown. Which she in fact feels a bit conflicted about.

Because it’s a weapon which is magically-enhanced, but not by the Gods themselves. The Snowy Crown is not like her Daggar of Judgement, which affects its enemies through those abilities governed by Stendarr: the abilities of an enemy’s strength, and his or her efforts to maintain endurance. This is initially a point of contention for Joan, the Blades’ newest Journeyman. How can she justify using a weapon which causes harm which is not filtered through the causes of Goodness against Evil?

But after actually using her new golden weapon during the next couple fights, striking her enemies down before her traveling guard even has time to react. After experiencing the prowess of what it means to be headed toward true mastery-at-arms, while those she encounters flail and fall before her. Well… her final answer on whether to continue using her new Snowy Crown? It is definite, it is clear.

"I shall strike this one down!" she says to her guard confidently, as the brigand they see up the road grabs his halberd in an attempt at intimidation and murder. This brigand, who'd been a smuggler before deciding to try his hand at highway robbery, has just twenty-six seconds to live.


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

Battling a Brigand

KILL-CAM!

"You have ascended to Level 9" -- Notice the x5 to Personality. That's from all those successful Speech attempts. 👭

A wonderful depiction of Joan’s journey to master her new mace. I agree that ultimately, it will suit and serve her well. Plenty of hard work to get there but Joan’s not afraid of paying her dues. I suspect Stendarr would agree that it is the nature of the wielder, not the nature of the enchantment that sanctifies the weapon. It looks like adding to her healing repertoire will require at least another paycheck and a lack of shopping distractions.

Cool, Joan took down that Kagouti on her own. It looks like she might be outgrowing the need for a guard to accompany her?

I love that she gave up on the short blades because she did not want to be associated with the ruffians who often use them. It is like when you wear leather or fur armor in Skyrim and the guards comment that you are wearing the armor of a brigand (at least with the Guard Comments mod I have).

And the mace if of course the classic cleric's weapon indeed!

I can hear the theme from Rocky playing in the background as Joan toughens up to use her new mace.

But the Snowy Crown is filtered through the causes of Goodness against Evil. The arm of the wielder is the filter and Joan of Arkay is Goodness personified.

Ooh, switching weapon types! That can be a pretty big step in Morrowind, but it sounds like she has the grit and the resources to pull it off. Blunt weapons do seem to fit her a lot better than short blades.

I liked some of her doubt regarding the Snowy Crown. While Morrowind has tempered her in many ways, it hasn't changed who she is. The Divines and the Empire still come first for her, and this will be reflected in her actions. Still, since she's helping the Divines and the Empire, a slightly dubious magical weapon is probably not too big of a deal.

Snowy Crown looks great and seems like a fitting weapon for Joan Marie of Cheydinhal.

I like the implementation of the story behind the weapon after bringing down that kagouti. Her surprise after bringing it down, seems genuine.

We've had some lovely fall weather this year, no later summer totally-humid nonsense. 🍁How is everybody this weekend?

Hope you don't mind if I do the multi-quote thing. Just makes it easier for me sometimes.



Thanks Acadian, and yea that's very true, she's definitely dedicated to her craft, as any good adventurer should be. Interesting insight on Stendarr, too. Confirms how Joan herself feels conflicted about her new mace's magic, which she doesn't entirely trust.

I've "known" her now for almost a decade, in two different games. One thing about her, she is stubborn she is obstinate. Sets her mind on something, etc, she's not like Lady Saga who is often flexible and flippant about stuff. So with Joan, she's only using the Snowy Crown until she finds something more compatible.

But she's also living in a very dangerous world. From her perspective during any sort of combat, only one side is going to win. So she's setting her advantages now. And from my perspective I am tired of entering into fights and then having to backtrack, or having to rely on her guard. The Snowy Crown feels a little overkilly from my perspective, but this better than constantly having to micro-manage her melees.




Just read today's story, hon!

I mean, she'll probably need to retain guards once she starts going into some really dangerous territory, but I think you'll be pleased with where she's at now.



Rocky was such an amazing movie when we were kids.

Mostly, the inspiration for her to switch weapon-types happened the first times she encountered skeletons. 🦴 She just wanted to smash one, and watch the bones fly. And yes that is true, guards love to comment on what we're wearing in Skyrim. Guards are some of the only NPCs who say random things like this. Everybody else is so focussed on letting us know they work for Belethor.



Absolutely. ⚔ When we discovered this weapon being sold by one of the Mages Guild vendors, I actually wondered if it's mod-added! Looked it up on UESP just to be sure.

It does an incredible amount of damage, more than an ordinary iron or steel piece, plus it also does 1-25 frost damage. This is good, because a lot of enemies in MW are resistant to fire. The frost effect also lasts a couple seconds or so, which is why sometimes she'll only need to clobber somebody or something once or twice.



Thank you, and yes, this involved a lot of work, and a lot of money spent on Blunt trainers. She does have the grit, but more importantly, I am an old-school gamer who doesn't mind the grind.


Cool, and very true. I think that in these days, she is still finding out who she is for sure. She's set on the Nine, but is still discovering what works for her during day-to-day.

But like I said above, she's also got a stubborn streak. Sets her mind on something, and by golly I'd better follow suit if I want to stay true to her roleplay. She won't be picking up any daedric weapons or gear for instance, not even for good loot money.



Oh yes, bringing that kagouti down (and the next one, and the kwama forager which followed after that, and the blighted nix hound, and the mod-added bandit who ambushed her in the story, etc. etc.) was a genuine surprise. I was like "whoa" the first few times.

Funny thing is, in Oblivion she never uses blunt weapons. At some point she went back to shortswords. But she also relies on magic in OB more than she does in MW. Shortswords are more like her backup weapons. She also mostly uses silver shortswords, which I notice the fribble-frabble never chooses.

Let's see where she's at next.

Chapter XXXV -- The Month of Evening Star


"Take this friend. I think everyone should read this leaflet. It has important information on it."

The man, a Redguard wearing typical festive clothes, handed a folded paper to Joan. "And what might this page entail?" she asked.

"It has important information on it," the man repeated. "Something must be done."

"Many thanks, squire. Might your path be shone by rays of the enlightened."

"Goodness, Joan of Cyrodiil, what can I say?"

The Redguard walked away, leaving Joan wondering for a moment. What has she got in her hands? What was just given to her? -- At the time, she was in a public place, in Vivec's Foreign Quarter matter of fact. Maybe it was better to find somewhere quieter to read it. Also, Vivec had become a place where she no longer felt entirely comfortable or safe, not even in public places. Had someone been watching their brief encounter?

When she finally returned to her Fighters Guild room, she closed the door. because guilds were not exactly known for their privacy. Here is what the note said.






Vampires! Here in Morrowind! If nothing else spoke to distract the young, crusading woman from all the items on her roster, it was this note. This calling for vanquishers of the very worst kind of undead here in Tamriel. Joan had read plenty about these sullen creatures of the night during her youth: Darkness Eternal, Immortal Blood, Alva's Journal, and so on. She'd pored and studied their kind during her learning years. And now, she could possibly volunteer to fight them!


Evening Star 24
That encounter with the Redguard who'd handed over that note happened three days ago. To tell the truth though, Joan has been a very busy crusader over the entire past month.

During the end of Sun's Dusk (after speaking to Caius) she traveled north to Ald'ruhn, where she was able to convince an Argonian named Tongue-Toad to leave the town for good. This was an assignment from the Vivec Fighters Guild. She was paid well for getting the lizard to part ways. Best of all, there was no need to kill during this quest.

Joan also collected five examples of scrib jelly for the Imperial Cult, and was able to take alm donations from numerous Ald'ruhnians (meeting Iulus's goal of 100 drakes). Trick was: don't even bother to ask the Dunmer! -- Every time she did, they'd claim they already donated, but to Vvardenfell's Tribunal Temple, not to the Imperials. Fair enough. So she focused on Bretons, Imperials, guild members, anyone but native inlanders.

Finally, she'd traveled to Gnisis, and then the village of Khuul, a place she hadn't been yet. From here she and her guard walked to the Asha-Ahhe Egg Mine, where the young Blade was tasked with finding Thelsa Dral, a terrible witch who'd taken over the mine. This seemed as though it would be the most daring quest on her agenda, but in fact it was the easiest. Dral had two others with her, bodyguards, basically. But after finding them deep in the mine and performing a few attack moves, it was obvious all three had been affected by some sort of weird curse. Whatever it was, the curse caused Thelsa and her guards to freeze in place, right after Joan attacked them.*

When she returned to Vivec and then Ebonheart she was showered with gold, gold pieces that is. Her take, after all loot was sold and all compensations gained, totaled close to a thousand. More than she'd ever seen in her life. She was also rewarded with a Septim Ring, a mystical item which can be used to boost her abilities with blunt-style weaponry and persuading others. With all the coin she earned, she spent roughly half of it on training.

Oh, when she traveled from Gnaar Mok to Seyda Neen to Vivec to Ebonheart, to Pelagiad, and finally Balmora, she'd done all that walking without being accompanied by a guard.







24 Evening Star (Day 131), late morning.

Location: Balmora Fighters Guild

She lazes most of the morning in bed, which to most folk here in town might seem lazy. Hawkers, merchants, even other guild members? They all had to be up early, in order to seize the day. But Joan Marie of the Fighters Guild? She is exhausted, after spending so much time traveling the roads, encountering various monsters and mer and men. Spending the night outdoors, or in dinky fishing villages which did not have proper sleeping quarters for rent.

Still, she'd rather travel the roads on foot. To do means she's doing her part at keeping Vvardenfell's roads clean of rabblery. Silt strider and boats are rarely sought by the young Blade.

And now, she is ready to speak to Caius again.

She puts on a red and rouge-colored blouse (her new favorite), arranges her hair into its usual ponytail. No boots, no shoes, no sandals. Off she goes, out the door. Begins walking from the guild, crossing the west Balmora plaza.

"Say what you want or go away," a dark elf wearing a green robe chides gruffly.

"Keep moooving," warns a Hlaalu guard.

"Don't stand about. Keep moving!"

Joan the secret Blade strides by all of them, taking notice of the fact that not everyone likes her. The weather is cool and foggy. She feels the coldness of the stones she walks upon as she crosses over one of the town's Odai River bridges. By the time she gets to Caius's place, she is beginning to shiver.

Inside the Cosades hovel she meets her superior, who is in the middle of exercise when she walks in, pushing himself off the floor with his hands in a repetitive fashion.

"Ah, welcome," he asks nonchalantly, getting up. "What may I do for you?"

"Nice to see you maintaining health, Caius."

"How can I help you?" he repeats.

"Well, I have been quite assiduous since we've last conversed, and do take notice that I have used the singular 'I', rather than the plural 'we'. Fact of matter, I have recently eschewed the company of guards as I've traversed." Joan smiled briefly. "For I feel as though my competence with weaponry has begun to flourish."

"Outstanding!"

For a few minutes, they talk about their various adventures and experiences across Tamriel: Joan from her current perspective, and Caius speaking of his past. And finally, the topic they're really here to discuss is raised.

"Are you here to discuss your orders, Joan? Or is there something else you want?"

"Please, what has been arranged forthwith?"

"We need an Ashlander informant. I have heard of a fellow in Ald'ruhn named Hassour Zainsubani, an Ashlander who left the Wastes to become a wealthy trader. They say the Ashlanders like to give and receive presents."

Joan scribbles her notes. "And how shall these received presents pertain?"

"Take these 100 drakes," he says, handing her coin once again. "Find out what Zainsobani likes, and get him a gift. Then you should give him the gift, and see if he will tell you about the Ashlanders and the Nerevarine cult. Then report back to me."

Hassour can be probably be found in the Ald Skar Inn, Caius tells her. So it looks like she's headed back north, but not just yet. Amazingly, this directive from the Empire is not something which sounds as though it's going to need to be done soon. Firstly on her agenda, she must...

1). Rescue a priest named Jocien Ancois from a far-off place called the Erabenimsun Camp. The priest had been captured at some point. Supposedly the camp where he'd been taken can be found in the wastelands of Molag Amur, somewhere in the east portion of Vvardenfell. Since this quest is a rescue, Joan feels she must respond to it first.

2). Go to Vas, which is a Velothi tower on the Sheogorad island, way to the north of Morrowind. Once she is there, she is to rid the necromancers inside.

A crusader's work is never done. She also has been tasked with finding a special silver staff which'd been stolen, and collecting corkbulb for Synnonian Tunifus. These orders are not so important, of course. Suffice to say, it's looking as though Morning Star should be just as busy as the month before.

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

Joan's new favorite outfit

Diverting Tongue-Toad

There's something down there. Something EVIL...

The Battle of Thelsa Dral

Sparring with Caius


Notes:
1). I think the guy named "Vorenei" mentioned in that note is either mod-added, or I misspelled his name. There's no Voreni or Vorenel listed at UESP. If he is mod-added, I haven't the foggiest what adds him

2). When Joan confronted the witch in the eggmine and all of them froze in place, that actually happened. It was a glitch! But even after reloading a couple times (because I was all jazzed up for a fight) they still glitched in place.

Vampires! It looks like someone ought to take a bite out of crime here...

It sounds like an odd glitch in the game erm, I mean the Hand of Justice, came through to help Joan smite the evildoers in the mine.

Joanie is rich! See, Justice does pay.

Joan Marie has not eschewed the charm when she talks to Caius I see.

Looks like Joan has a lot of work ahead. A kidnapping, necromancers, and some intelligence gathering.

Is that a vampiric nod to our own DE I noted after Joan read her mysterious missive?

Joan has certainly been profiting from her questing.

’She was also rewarded with a Septim Ring, a mystical item which can be used to boost her abilities with blunt-style weaponry and persuading others.’
- - Nice synergy implied here. After all, blunt weapons are a superb way to persuade others in their own right.

And Joan is relying on her guard much less now – looks like spending much of her gold on training is paying off.

So Shoeless Joan visits Shirtless Caius again to impress him with her assiduousness and receive new tasking.

With a dance card freshly refilled with a variety of quests, Joan seems ready to sally forth once again.

… “, gold pieces that is”. Now why do we need to clarify the bit about gold coins? Hours later… Ohhh!!

Joan's gone from not being sure where to go, to going all across western Vvardenfell, from Khuul to Vivec and everywhere in-between.

And, as tends to happen in Morrowind, she's made a decent amount of scratch doing all that. I guess life on the road does cut down on expenses. No taxes, utility bills, etc. She even has enough to actually wear an outfit she likes.

Anyway, she's back on the job with Caius (loved the bit about him doing exercises, you figure a guy in as good shape as him must have a great routine). Getting closer and closer to the real source of all the troubles here. And, maybe, getting a lead on the vampire threat as well. Finding them can be pretty darn tough, as I recall, but they're out there.

Don't worry, I'm not planning on saturating the forums. I'll continue with Joan's tale until sometime in December, maybe take a break, and then I'll switch to Laprima fuller-time before Xmas. Meanwhile, I want to write a few Laprimas quietly during all the time, getting ahead of the story just like you true fan-fictioners do.

Let's have some questions and comments.

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


Yes it is nice when we finally begin to break the monetary barrier, SubRosa Florens. That's one of the parts I love about RPGs. We can look back at where our people were, remember the days when they were poorer and weaker, and so on.

And like I said, I have no idea why the wicked witch and her cohorts did not continue to attack. I actually wanted them to! Was all jazzed up for a rumble.

Joan appreciates your compliment.

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




Guilty! In fact there is no book called Darkness Eternal in the ES series! I thought there was. Truth is, there could be, right? So yeah, that's for you DE, wherever you are.

Yes it was nice to get that ring. It's got 4 effects: one which she'll never use, and three which she uses constantly (the ring also boosts MW's 'Attack' stat, which helps with this game's hidden dice-rolls in combat). Still, she's been able to narrow down her magical devices (inventory's getting cluttered) and is using the Septim Ring instead of two other items which did pretty much the same things.

It is nice using words like "assiduous" in a sentence, right? Sometimes I'll say stuff like that at work, everyone going "huh?"

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


macole: Yea, there are other uses for getting showered in gold. :yuck: Think it's best we clarify which ones!


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


Clavier, Well-Tempered: Again, it's nice to see the results of attainment. I guess it's easier to notice in these games, since there are none of our typical expenses here on Earth like rent and insurance and bills, not without mods, that is. 💰

Yep, exercise. Gotta keep those pecs and Cyrodiilic 6-pack! I also figure Caius is trying to keep busy in his mostly humdrum life. It's either get into exercise, read more, interact more with the paupers of his surroundings, or succumb to the EVILs of skooma addiction!


To all: Today's story will be short because Joan opted to try finding Jocien the kidnapped priest. Turns out, this is one really tough mission. I remember doing it long ago with Sir Galarad on Xbox and it didn't seem so hard. But maybe that's because Galarad pretty much stuck to the sword 'n' board theme rather than switching weapon-types; he was a better fighter by the time he got to this quest than Joanie is.

Chapter XXXVI -- Jocien Ancois, part I


On the day of 7 and the previous month of Sun's Dusk, Jocien Ancois was apparently captured. Removed from his post. Jocien, a Breton priest who'd been helping a remote village of ashlanders get accustomed to 'Imperial culture and virtues', had somehow been reported as missing. Was he actually taken somewhere, though? Was the man even still alive?

He'd been sent to a place called Erabenimsun Camp (sent by the Imperials) and had arrived some days prior to the 7th. A few days later, and he was nowhere to be seen. Somebody needed to find out where he'd been taken, or if the priest was still around at all. Who would get tasked with such a quest, to go searching for some individual in the middle of nowhere?

This messy situation became Joan's next assignment of course, given to her by Radd Hard-Heart of Fort Moonmoth's Imperial Legion. And who better to take up the cause?

Finding the camp is not easy. Molag Amur (where Erabenimsun is located) is a huge expanse of empty, ashen land, populated by cliff racers, kagouti, and an occasional atronach. Joan makes two attempts into the land. First was with an orc she found loitering outside the canton of Molag Mar. This orc offered his services as a hireling and adventurer, and began following Joan after she paid him a small fee. She and the orc had gotten about halfway to the camp before Joan got attacked by a rat which caused her the blight. Realizing she was about to run out of blight potions it was prudent to return to society, as any good traveler of Vvardenfell should know.

The orc she'd hired is a steady fellow who carries a spear. He is strong and sure, but Joan intuited he might not be worthy against, let's say, a frost atronach or some daedric minions; and she'd already spotted a few of these in the distance as they traversed the ashes. Because of this, she decided to return all the way to Fort Moonmoth via boats and silt striders. She then convinced another guard to leave his post, and take up the much more altruistic plight of rescuing the missing priest.

Safety in numbers.

So now she leads a party of three. Joan's orc hireling carries a spear and wears iron armor; he'd been good with the creatures. The guard uses a sword of silver, with a longbow for backup; chances are he'd be better against any magical beings they encounter.

It takes a couple days of wandering roads which are unfamiliar, with just an occasional signpost to guide her. But since she'd already gotten halfway to the camp the week before, Joan is able to make good time. Her map is vague, the directions she'd been given unreliable, and signposts along the road are uncommon. Because of these factors, Joan relies on shadows on the ground to figure which direction to go. If it's morning for instance, and shadows fall to the left as they walk, this means they're traveling north.

When she finally locates Erabenimsun, literally in the middle of nowhere, Joan is astounded they'd managed to find the place at all.





8 Morning Star, Mid-Morning
The air is cool and bluish-gray as Joan and her companions near the camp. All around, there's nothing but rock. Rocks, boulders, gray ash on the ground. No trees, no lush grasses. But plenty of ash, and occasional plant life which is adept at survival: trama roots, fire ferns, and so on...

.... and thankfully, there hadn't been any ash storms over the past couple days. At some point, Joan and one of her previous guards had gotten caught in one of those. A whole lot of fun, they are not.

As she nears some of the camp's ashland dwellers, the crusader from Cyrodiil realizes she's still donned in Imperial armor. Curses! that's a mistake. From what she's heard, ashlanders hate and have little tolerance for the Empire.

She has no choice at the moment, however. They've come all this way, after all. And perhaps their mere presence in this otherwise alien atmosphere should lend a clue to the ashlanders about why the outsiders are here.

"How fares thee?" she asks a masked man wearing chitin armor.

"I don't have a lot of patience, outlander," he scoffs.

"But, you have not gathered my query, sera." She ends her words with 'sera', a Vvardenfellian term commonly used amongst the natives, hoping that this'll lend some sort of respect.

"You have no manners, outlander. I said go away!"

"But sera. We have arrived from far away, in regards of Jocien Ancois," she states in a small voice. "He is a priest who'd been assigned here, and'd arrived roughly one month past, accordingly. Have you any knowledge regarding Jocien?"

Joan carefully studies the ashlander as he answers, but of course, he's wearing a mask which covers his entire face. Probably wise, given the fact that ash storms can happen at any time in these parts. But because his facial expressions cannot be seen, she has no way of discerning whether he's about to tell tall tales.

Truthfully, she expects more hostility from the ashlander. So it's a surprise when the elf immediately divulges some of the information she needs.

"He is like the nix hound chasing a bone. We told him the Mabrigash wanted to hear him speak from his books. He went to them, and never returned."

Hmm, Mabrigash, eh? -- Sounds as if he's been led astray, Joan quickly surmises, but does not say aloud. ---- Well at least the elf has admitted Jocien was actually present here, at least for a while.

Joan attempts to learn who (or what) this Mabrigash is, but the ashlander shuts her down. Unsure what to do or say next, she decides to walk a few paces away from the camp. She's about to remove her Imperial breastplate (because maybe her legionnaire's status might be off-putting to these ashen elves) when her traveling orc speaks up.

"Mabrigash is wise-woman who left the camp," he tells Joan in his grumbly voice. "She steals man's vital essence, make herself powerful sorcerer. Her camp is to west, along lava. Mabrigash have other friends with, and I warn you stay away."

Joan stands astonished. How can the orc know all this, while she faltered for information?

Turns out, he had been able to perform his own sort of questioning of those at the camp. And he'd been more successful than she, perhaps due to his race, which the ashen elves perhaps perceive as downtrodden and cast aside. Orcs had traditionally faced their own difficulties from just about every other race and species of Tamriel. In other words, he is perceived as just like them.

By now, the day is half-past. Joan tries to follow the advice surreptitiously given to her hireling, tries walking a couple roads which aim away from the camp. But finding this place where the Mabrigash is supposed to be hidden is not easy. She travels west, which is the way they had come. Tries a few extra roads and paths along the way, but finds no lava flows.

By the time she returns to the camp the day is getting long. The ashlanders of Erabenimsun refuse to allow Joan and her party to sleep the night in one of their yurts, which means they must rest outside on the ashy ground.

Joan Marie of Cyrodiil, she does not sleep well into morning. Cold air. Dust on the ground. Difficult, hostile elves constantly reminding her they're not welcome here. She looks back to those dinky little fishing villages she'd spent nights in along the Bitter Coast. No comfy inns to spend the night in those either, but now she realizes how much more inviting and welcoming those villages are.

When Joan, her guard, and her orc adventurer awake the next morning the Red Volcano has decided to greet them with a smile, as all three of them find themselves getting bombarded by an ash storm.


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

Fighting a kagouti

Party of Three

Erabenisum Camp (however you spell it) Arrival

Ash Storm!!!!


Notes: I used the MW Construction Set to a few Orc Adventurers into my Morrowind, just so she's not always traveling with guards. But I've also noticed NPCs in this game (guards, for instance) are able to pick up new conversation topics according to where they travel. I don't think there is any such thing as GetInFaction in Morrowind's quests, to narrow down which NPCs can say which things.

From the perspective of roleplay of course, it makes sense that the orc is able to get better intel than my Joanie.

Joanie is on the case of the mysterious disappearance of Jack Ank. Let's see if like Hercule Poirot, her little brain cells will lead her crack the case.

Joan has a good internal compass, relying on the shadows of the sun to guide her way.

The Who-Brigash?

And it is her Orc Companion who cracks the case. I guess he should have a name now.

Into the ashlands, properly equipped with an orc adventurer, Legion soldier and some blight potions.

A little, but not much info from the first ashlander Joan encounters. Joan's orc hireling, however, has much better luck filling in quite a few details regarding the search for Jocien.

No rest for the weary though after a rough night on the ground and awakening to an ash storm.

There are some nasty things out in the wastes, and Daedra are just the tip of the iceberg! It's a good thing that Joan brought along some help. She's been on Vvardenfell long enough to know that the place doesn't kid around.

Loved the interaction between her and the Ashlander. I always loved the way Morrowind made the Ashlander camps feel really far out there. Visiting one was a commitment, and there was no fast travel to ease the journey. Your story definitely brings that quality across to the reader.

Good thing Joan brought the Orc along, and hopefully she learned a lesson about not underestimating people. Sure, he might not be a good enough combatant to take on an atronach, but he knows how to get around with the Ashlanders.

It's the little touches like the player and NPCs shielding their eyes with their hands during tha ash storms that I miss in the other game. Be strong Joan or that wind will blow you all the way back to Balmora.

Hey, you can miss those "little touches" Macole, Vampire Hunter, I think I'll pass on dust storms in later games!

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

Preparing for the uber-baddies is a combination of Joanie's inexperience, Clavier and Acadian in the sense that she sees this giant, flaming being way in the distance and thinks "whoa, I'd better prepare better", but also me with all my RPG experience, going back to the 1980s in high school. 🎲

I had an elf named Simone who was level 20-something. The guy had all this enchanted gear, was unstoppable in combat, yadda yadda. He traveled with a group which was mostly non-elves, and one day when one of their adventures was over, he decided to travel back to his homeland, by himself. And why not? Simone was level 20-something.

He spent the night outdoors, but was ambushed by three dire wolves. Pfft, not a prob. He lost his 'saving throw' (he was surprised), which means the wolves attacked first. Big deal. First roll of dice = double damage. Second wolf bites = TRIPLE damage. Final wolf attacks, and I roll another double.

I Mean, the odds for that sort of thing simply never happened, that combination of dice rolls. And I was in tears. Simone the elf was dead. I couldn't believe it. I had to leave the gaming table.

Joan's game is not 'dead-is-dead', her story continues on into Oblivion so DID is impossible. But it's still my habit to not walk her into extreme danger in the first place.

Thanks for kind comments.

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

I'll have to Bing! for Jack Ank, Rosa. Ah, you've lost me! I've got a Facebook page called "Jack Ank Profiles" at best. From there, the search dissolves into Did you mean Jack Black? and other randoms.

Yes, I did name both the orc and her new Imperial Archer in this next story. Who knows how long they'll last, though?

Chapter XXXVII -- Jocien Ancois, part II

9 Morning Star (Day 147), early afternoon

Location: Molag Amur Region





Joan Marie of the Legion walks with her two comrades, an orc named Jub and an Imperial archer who goes by Stefan, through the wastes of Molag Amur. As they walk, brutal winds of red blow across their faces. It's an ash storm! ... And like many other storms of its type, it doesn't just end in an hour or two, the way rain sometimes does.

They move northwest, away from Erabenimsun Camp. Within a few minutes they come to an intersection of roads. They decide to turn left. The place where Jocien Ancois had been taken is supposed to be somewhere west.

The road begins to crest downward; the storm, it is unrelenting. At some point Joan sees some pale items on the ground. As she nears, she sees a series of three pages, which are somehow not getting blown away. She picks these up, for no other reason than they are out of place, in this otherwise hostile environment.



They're soon attacked by a rat, which Joan's two followers ruthlessly take turns defeating. More pages on the ground are nearby. A cliff racer floats off to their left. Joan braces for a fight as the party draws near. But the flying beast doesn't attack. Not all of them do. There's a signpost up ahead, which explains how to get to Molag Mar and Mount Kand on one side, Vos and Tel Vos on the other. Another page on the ground.

Joan realizes there's large gash of molten hot magma straight ahead. Ah, this must be the place.

She tells her followers to wait by the signpost, while she forges ahead. She needs to perform some reconnaissance on her own. If there's a chance she can find the area where Jocian had been taken, and glimpse it from afar, this would be ideal. The information given to Jub the orc hinted there could be 'others' nearby. Other what? -- Other witches? -- Daedra? -- Vampires? Best to know beforehand, if possible.

Steam vents blow heated vapor from the ground, rocks and a few long-dead trees permeate the landscape. Up ahead, Joan thinks she sees someone. -- An enemy? Or a friend. Hard to see in this dreadful deluge. The figure stands still, but Joan begins weaving left and right as she nears it. Doesn't want to get hit by any unseen arrows.

It's an Argonian, she sees as she gathers near. The lizard is not drawing a bow, nor any weapon at all. "Speeeak quickly," he says.

"Almsivi," Joan begins, covering her face so she doesn't get dust in her mouth. She's wishing now that she'd bought a helmet for this journey.

"Who... who are you?" the lizard says, worriedly. "Leave me alone. I must get home now."

The crusader presses for an explanation to this, but the lizard does not explain. Originally from lush, humid swampland, today's dust storm frightens the scaly being. But the Argonian does not explain where he needs to go. When Joan asks him about the Mabrigash, he cannot understand what she's speaking of.

Another page on the ground, which she picks up. Joan walks slowly and tentatively forward, toward the literal river of lava. Cautiously gazes in all directions, especially upwards, because out here you never knew if something was about to attack from above.

Something strikes her! .. She dances all around, but nobody is near! Probably an arrow. Thank goodness her chain armor breastpiece caught the brunt of it, then.

Unsure what in oblivion just happened, she finds herself rushing back, past the Argonian, and behind a large rock. Looking behind, she sees a shadow run from left to right, barely visible. So she continues to run in a zigzag fashion, which makes it harder for any missiles to find her.

"Let's see what you're made of!" grunts her Imperial as the archer nears. Both he and Jub stalk off to fight the enemy, who turns out to be nothing but a common road bandit, with barely any coin in his pocket. She could've handled the menace by herself, but still. Perhaps better to travel together, from now on.

Hours have gone by, and now the sky is getting dark. Joan decides to head back to the original camp. Before heading back, she decides to bring the lost Argonian with them. The Ashlanders might try eventually to make him a slave, but at least he'd be in a safer place.


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

10 Morning Star, early morning
Heading back turns out to be a good idea. Next morning, they awake to a much more pleasant atmosphere. The sky is blue, the landscape is pink and rosy with upcoming sunlight. Just...heavenly. No more ash storm. And this much more agreeable weather makes it easier to find Mabrigash's camp.

They return to the lava flow, this time pivoting in the direction the archer had come. Joan finds another page on the ground. Now that the storm's over, she can finally see that all these pages are from one of the editions of Brief History of the Empire, which has to be one heck of a set of clues.

"Imperial pages, hmm."

Nobody out here is going to have any need for one of the books which graces almost every Imperial's bookshelf back home. She feels she's on the right track, then.

She finds another page. And another. Pretty soon, she'll have enough to make an entire volume. Joan turns to her companions after walking another quarter-mile or so.

"Let's hear it." says the Imperial.
"Speak quickly!" says the orc.

She tells her traveling companions maybe it's better if they'd wait here. Walks a bit more. Ironically, now that she's got some better muscle, she has yet to see any formidable enemies for them to assist against.

And there it is. Up ahead, a yurt in the distance, with two Ashlander-looking Dunmer strutting outside. Just beyond their home lies yet another page. Got to be the place.

"May the sodden actions of Arkay guide thy path, should ye choose to befoul my presence."

Joan Marie draws near, imbuing herself with the magic from her Septim Ring, just in case. The two figures before her make no reaction. They seem like ordinary Molag Amur Ashlanders; a man and a woman, wearing common tan clothes. Not a threat. Should she go back to get the others? Joan does not think that'll be necessary.

"Whatever you're looking for, I'm sure I don't know how to find it!" the lady scolds.

"I am Joan Marie, of the Legion," she begins. Again, she's acutely aware of her Imperial belongings. "And how is it you suspect I am inherently sussing about?"

"Spit it out, or hit the road!"

Since there's no attack imminent, the crusader from Cyrodiil starts with her usual small-talk. Asks the woman her name.

"I am Mamaca Ashun-Idantus, Mabrigash."

"Mabrigash," she's found her mark. "As stated, I am of the Imperials, traveling across these unwelcoming plains. Might you have any words regarding local cautions?"

"Well if you're heading into the backcountry, always carry a couple restore health, restore fatigue, cure disease, and cure blight potions with you," Mamaca offers.

Great. Off to a resplendent start.

"Gracious, sera. Might we as well have any knowledge of a priest by the name of Jocien Ancois?"

"Talk to Zennammu in the yurt," Mamaca says more quietly.

"May the graces of light continue to guide your path," Joan tries.

"Don't try to butter me up, Breton."

Inside the yurt it's nice and comfy. They've got a blue paper lamp hanging from the ceiling, a small fire to fend off the cold, a couple bedrolls, a table, chair, and several containers.

"What's this about?" says a red-robed man, obviously Breton.
"Speak quickly outlander or go away!" This comes from a Dunmer lady wearing yellow.

Hmm.

"Jocien Ancois?" she asks the Breton.

"I dare not leave until these outcast Erabinimsun have been dealt with," he speaks lowly, even though the lady is right across from him.

Joan looks to the young female wearing yellow. "Explain thyself, sera."

"You want to take Jocien from us?" the female, whose name is Zennammu, asks. "But how can we work our magic without a man?"

"Without a man?"

"I will let Jocien go if you can being us a better man. The brave hunter Assaba-Bentus of the Erabenimsun is young, strong, and handsome. If you bring him here, we will let Jocien go."

My goodness.

Two hours later, back in Erabinimsun, Joan eventually locates the hunter, who tells her more about Jocien the priest.

"He came to our camp speaking many lies from a large book," Assaba-Bentus says gruffly. "We told him the Mabrigash wanted to hear his words. Of course he was captured by them, who hold him captive, still. He could not escape from his shirt without help."

"Aye. I have already gleaned this knowledge myself, as I have conversed with the priest."

When asked about the Mabrigash's request that he join them at their campsite, the hunter expresses outrage. "What? ...You want me to go live with the witch-women? Do you think I am a fool like Jocien? Do you think I would fall for their charms?"

Joan tries her best to convince him he should go, after learning he'd fooled their charms in the past. Surprisingly, she is successful.

By now, it is again getting late. Joan is surprised when Assaba-Bentus informs the Breton that she doesn't have to sleep outside. The Wise Woman who lives in the center of camp not only has bedrolls to spare, she also sells food, items, and weak potions. This is good, since the party's foodstuffs are dwindling.

But now is not the time to rest, not with this quest so possibly near its end. Two hours later, and she's back at Mabrigash, this time with the hunter. "Do not worry about me," Assaba-Bentus tells her once they've arrived. "No witch-woman can hold a real warrior for long."

She goes inside the yurt. "My time is precious so make it quick!" Zennamu scolds, making Joan wonder what sort of time is needed to maintain the single space within her yurt.

"I have convinced Assaba-Bentus to come. As can be seen he is capable and handsome. Now, the time has come to unfetter thy charge."

The 'witch-woman' agrees to this. Which is a good thing of course, because it means on the morrow, they can all leave Molag Amur, confident in the knowledge that Jocien Ancois has been saved.

"You have brought us a better man," the witch concludes. "We will let Jocien go."

"May the Nerevar shine thy way," the crusader tells her. Though she hasn't got much of an idea of what the Nerevar truly is, Joan is able to hit a mark with this Ashland elf.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

The curse is lifted from Jocien Ancois, who "promises to make his way back to Erabinimsun right away, so he can continue to teach them of the Empire and its ways."

Is it possible to be too dedicated to one's craft? Joan thinks she and her party will be leaving this land, tomorrow and at the first signs of daylight.

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

Lost Argonian

Rose-colored morning -- (I love how there's such a huge difference once those ash storms are over).


NOTES: I had to use the console to get the quest above to update. Brought the hunter guy to Zennammu's camp, and she continued to not recognize he was there.

So the main enemy here was the hostile environment. Joan’s search for the priest transitioned to a search for a ‘better man’ – which she found without too much fuss.

I wonder what the witch women intend to do with their ‘better man’? And does Joan continue to escort her lost swamp lizard to a safer refuge? Regardless, another quest complete by the crusading Joan of Arkay.

Our orc gets a name. Jub. Maybe that is short for Jub gro-Lub?

Ah yes, the trail of pages. I had forgotten about that. That was a nice addition by the devs to help find Jocien.

Cliffracers, and bandits, and wayward Argonians. There is always something happening in the ashlands.

So she is going to trade them a manly Ashlander for the spindly Breton missionary? Looks like Mabrigash is getting the better part of that bargain.

It always starts with the small-talk. Chat about the weather here, talk about your business there. Next thing you know you're signing a less-than-favorable trade agreement, but goshdarnit, this Imperial just seems like such a nice person.

Morrowind's ashstorms are an ordeal to get through, and your writing captures that. They're just so constant and enormous, until even though it's a video game, you're relieved to get indoors. But Joan treks on like the crusader she is, and even manages to resolve the issue without killing anyone (except the bandit, but he started it).

I'd completely forgotten about how the missionary left pages behind as a trail, so that was a neat reminder. And as always, I get a kick of how all the characters save for Joan speak in the same weird way that NPCs do in-game, and Joan rolls with it like a pro.

I apologize for the delay. Gonna focus on Joan's story for the next month or so, while also working on some Laprimas, but I won't post Laprima until those are well-done. Writing Joans and Vicious near-weekly is like trying to make journalistic deadlines! ... Laprima's story is more like my imaginary agent & publisher has given me X amount of time. More like writing a novel I guess, ha. 📖

Acadian: you got it. Bad weather can slow us down in Cyrodiil, in the sense that we might not have our usual visibility, but rainstorms are nothing like the deluges of dust which get faced in Vvardenfell. Honestly I hate them; one of the few things I truly hate about the game. And so does Joanie!



Oops, I misread this yesterday. I think that swamp lizard was attached to a quest which glitched. Pretty sure when I gamed on Xbox that the lizard is supposed to say "HELP!" or something, but there was no dialog other than the usual generic MW topics. So this somehow glitched in Joan's game.

She merely led him back to the Erabashanibam camp (however it's spelled) and left him there.


SubRosa: Yes that trail of pages is a nice, creative method some dev thought of, in the days before quest markers. 🕴


Both of those fellows got pwned. The trio walked down through Molag Amur, and were maybe a half-mile away from getting to safer land when they encountered a frost atronach. The orc got killed almost immediately, since he'd already been hurt in another battle. The Imperial lasted a bit longer, but again they came across some magical, tougher creature, and then he also fell.


The Dunmer dude Joan brought to the Witch Woman told her he's been with them before. He claims to have out-charmed them in the past, or something. Claims he was able to free himself from them.


WellTemperedClavier: hA HA YEs, it does always start with the small talk. At least with Joanie this is true. Ana Khannda (my other lady ATM, who is a Dunmer archer) never small-talks. She always gets to the point.

Yea, those ash storms... you said it well. Always a relief to (1) find somewhere to get out of them or (2) sometimes they'll die down on their own. We'll hear the wind sound start to dwindle, and finally the damn storm'll end. But that's rare. Usually they'll keep raging for an entire day.

Chapter XXXVIII -- Vas

30 Morning Star (Day 168), Year 428

Location: Sheogorad Islands


On the final day of the first month of 428, Joan arrives at Dagon Fel for the first time. She spends the night in the oddly-named 'End of the World' tavern, and doesn’t waste time before starting off to find Vas the next day. Vas is a Velothi tower located on a small inlet, somewhere northwest of Sheogorad's main island.

And why is she being sent to such a remote location? - Because the place is rumored to harbor a powerful necromancer named Daris Adram, and Joan's the only one entrusted to eradicate him!

She leaves The End of the World early the next morning, after a meal of eggs and saltice. It’s a pleasant day outside. Colorful flora everywhere. Sun is shining. Weather is fair. There's a breeze, but it’s not chilly at all, despite coming off the north coast. A betty netch floats pleasantly just outside the village. There’s a paved road which leads away from Dagon Fel. According to the locals, the entire island had been civilized long ago by Nords, and then maintained for centuries by the Dwemer. Which means there should be plenty of tamped-down roads and paths to follow.

Ash storms cannot happen this far away from Red Volcano, visibility's therefore a given. Joan's looking forward to her journey, which she imagines she'll travel without too many setbacks.

Unfortunately, she doesn't get far before she's attacked by a pale, bipedal creature. Whatever it is, it immediately begins throwing spells. She's hit by the very first one; caught by surprise! - Good thing she hasn't gotten too far away from society, yet. She’s able to dodge most of her enemy’s magics while rushing back to Dagon Fel, though she gets pegged by a couple more. Whatever magic's in these spells doesn't affect her strength, magic, or well-being, making her wonder what’s supposed to be going wrong.

The pale monster eventually runs out of mana, then it rushes toward her. The fight becomes brutal! One of the creature's touch-magic spells paralyzes the crusader from Cyrodiil, causing her to fall in the middle of the street. Good thing she's got a potion for this.

To make matters worse, her magical Snowy Crown mace barely seems to make a dent, as she slams her adversary with blow after blow. By now, even a blighted kagouti would've fallen, yet the pale monster continues to pursue. The residents of Dagon Fel do nothing to assist her in battle, not that Joan expects them to. But there are also no guards in town (nor any Ordinators), Joan Marie of the Fighters Guild must defeat the menace on her own!

Time passes enormously quick as Joan and the demonic-looking beast battle, yet it also slows to a crawl. Her health begins to wane. Thinking quick, she manages to zip round a sharp corner, back to The End of the World, ever-so-glad she hadn't gotten too far away. Pushes her way through the tavern's door, struggles to catch her breath.

"Welcome," says Hjortra the Peacock, the tavern's innkeeper. "If you wish to talk, it's really no trouble at all."

The crusader's so focused on healing herself (and quickly!), she barely hears Ms. Peacock. Joan casts a spell which’ll slowly heal her injuries over the next ten seconds, and also quaffs a potion to boost her strength. Uses her Septim Ring to arm herself with offensive magic. After just a few moments inside, out she goes again to fight!

So now she's been healed, but the creature's been heavily injured. A few more swings and bludgeons, and the fight is over. Joan of Cyrodiil finds herself completely exhausted. All this movement and action makes it seem like hours have gone by. A quick glance up at the sun, though, and she realizes it's only half-past mid-morning.

The crusader spends some time looking for somebody she can hire or persuade. But this won't work. Even if there were a guard or an adventurer who’d be willing to follow, there's no way he or she would be able to follow all the way to Vas. Vas is remote, with significant fathoms of water separating it from the main island. Anyone traveling with her would be unable to complete the journey, unless they happened to be really good swimmers.


"Well. I sha'n't traipse the main island on my own," Joan muses quietly, thinking aloud. "Not after nearly succumbing to ... that," she says, looking down at her fallen opponent.

Aye, her opponent. What exactly is that thing? After speaking to a local seafarer, she learns the monster she'd just defeated is called a 'hunger'. Though she'd never seen one before, Joan remembers learning about them down in Cheydinhal. "Hungers! Foul Daedric minions of Boethiah!" she whispers, shuddering involuntarily.

"Good journey to you," answers the seafarer, who seems impressed to have met a real, live adventuring type way up here.

Now that she's battled a hunger, the last thing Joan wants is to be ambushed by a second example somewhere deep in wilderness, where there's no safety door to hide behind. Good thing she'd recently picked up a water-walking spell down in Vivec, looks like she's going to need it!

"Aye, I shall sojourn across the sea." By doing so, she'd avoid whatever nasties the main island of Sheogorad has to offer.




This seems like a great idea, at first. Joan pictures herself walking over calm waves, occasionally studying her map for guidance. Thinks it’ll be possible to find the island by nightfall.

No. She does not make it to Vas by nightfall, nor is she able to land there the next day. No. It takes two entire days plus some odd hours, before she finally locates her destination. Two days of traversing the northern waters step by step, dozens, maybe hundreds of feet above the sea’s bottom. Sleeping on sandy shores at night. Eating sparingly, hoping the rations of food she's got in her pack will last. And of course, dealing occasionally with nuisances such as mudcrabs or cliff racers.

Thankfully, she doesn’t encounter any more hungers.


Day 170, early morning
By the time she reaches Vas, she'd cast her water-walking spell so many times, her skills within the Alteration school increased to the point she feels much more confident. Each time the spell was cast, she'd have half a minute before it wore off. She'd gotten into the habit of counting each time, counting to thirty, that is. As long as she was able to successfully re-cast before that half-minute expired, she was also able to continue striding over the waves.

But, there were plenty of times she'd be walking over the sea and forgotten to count. Plenty of times her attempts at the spell would fizzle, over and over and over. Either way, she'd abruptly find herself falling into salty water!

"Are you here from the Fighters Guild? Shall we fight together against these foul necromancers?"

This is asked by Ulyne Henim, a Bouyant Armiger from the Tribunal who's somehow standing outside of a solid door on the small island of Vas just as Joan arrives. How long has she been standing out here? Or did Ulyne (by chance) just arrive?

"Aye. Joan of the Fighters Guild. Might I perchance inquire how long it is you've been present, here upon Vas?"

"We must bring justice to the foul necromancer Daris Adram!" is Ulyne's enthusiastic answer. "Daris is here in Vas."

"Is he now? Splendid."

It might seem Ulyne's just avoided a direct answer to Joan's question. But considering she already knows Daris is in the tomb, it can be assumed the Armiger has been here at least overnight.

"Shall we enter?"

"Perhaps we might firstly conversate," is Joan's answer. "That we shall firstly consider one another's methods of warfare and magic, eh?" ... Nothing worse than going into melee situations without knowing your partner's style of skirmishing.

"You do me too much honor." The Armiger is pleased.





Like a true native, Ulyne wears chitin; the former exoskeletons of full-sized arthropods. She wields a two-handed staff made of steel. After a few minutes of mock-sparring, she and Joan encounter a small surprise: a rat decides to clamber down the hill and attack!

"Hah!" the Tribunal woman shouts. First, she casts a spell which summons an ancestral ghost, next she starts swinging her staff. Joan takes note of these actions, especially the ghost. It's important to know such things beforehand, see?

The crusader decides to give her new partner a few potions, all of them brewed for healing. And into Vas they go!

Turns out, Vas is an ancestral tomb, one of many across the land. The Cyrodiilian spies a skeleton in a nearby hallway, so she readies the spell which will cause this meager undead to turn away.

"Might you willingly stand aside a moment, while I forge ahead?" she asks the Armiger quietly.

"Alright," Ulyne grunts.

Joan motions forward slowly, both hands raised and ready. The skeleton clicks its way back and forth, roughly forty feet down the corridor. Joan aims her hands, and releases their magic. *Vwoom!* and her spell is successful. The skeleton flees for nearly a minute, clicking and clacking away. By the time its turning wore off, and the bony corpse returned, Joan and Ulyne had formed a co-strategy. After some brief discussion, they both attack the bag of bones in tandem, taking it down efficiently from both sides. Teamwork during combat, at its best.



But their excursion into the rest of the tomb didn’t continue toward ultimate success. As they delved deeper within, the pair encountered another skeleton. At the same time, they also faced a bonelord: a fierce, four-armed sentry which could cast its own magic, bonelords are apparently impervious to turning spells. The melee turned truly chaotic as more undead joined the fight. Joan and Ulyne became separated. Joan’s health and energies diminished while facing a second bonelord! - She was forced to save her own life, returning toward Vas’s entrance while her new companion became over-exuberant, rushing headfirst into whatever desecrated fiends populated below.

Even while concluding her brawl with the second monster, Joan already knew the Armiger had fallen. Sure enough, Ulyne Henim was found in a room and two hallways below the surface. She had fought valiantly. Joan could see this because Ulyne was nearby not one but two former attackers.

The crusader checked Ulyne's possessions, not to loot, but to properly arrange for afterlife. Only one of the five potions she'd given to Ulyne remained.

The finest warriors are those who know when to cut their losses, and admit present defeat, were the words Joan remembered as she reluctantly returned to surface. As Gaiden Shinji once said, the best techniques are those passed on by the survivors.

Daris, Necromancer of Vas, still remained somewhere within. probably gloating within darkness, proud to have beaten the incomers. He must be stopped! But Joan's supplies of food and potions had by then dwindled crucially low.

The crusader reached into her satchel, where a single scroll of Divine Intervention was lodged in case of emergencies. She'd used these sort of scrolls in the past, what they did was send the reader off to whichever Aedric shrine was closest. Moments later, Joan Marie of Cyrodiil force-traveled, magically appearing before Fort Darius, in Gnisis.


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

Dueling a brigand and cliffie (u g0 g1rL!)

Fighting the rat with Ulyne

Inside of Vas

Bashing a Bonelord 🦴

Bonelords creep us out

Lopov'd

NOTES: The hunger's thrown spells are Corrode Armor and Corrode Weapon, but apparently these spells are weak because Joan's gear wasn't too damaged. When the creature gets into touching range, it can also Paralyze.

Battles with a hunger, skeletons, bonelords, various other undead, and the dreaded rat will certainly tax your supplies. The wise Morrowind adventurer always carries a, Intervention scroll, just in case.

Leaving the End of the World sounds like a good idea on general principles.

Uh oh, paralyzed by a critter. I am guessing a Hunger maybe?

Joanie wisely retreats and trades space for time to recover and buff herself up.

Round Two! Fight!

The armiger summons an ancestor ghost for a rat? Talk about overkill. But since she is Bouyant, at least she floats...

Ulyne meets the fate of all who have more sand than sense. Joanie is wise - methinks - to withdraw once more and prepare for round two, just as she did against the Hunger.

The good news is that the weather is pleasant and free of ash storms. And that Joan has truly mastered her waterwalking spell. The bad news is. . . well, everything else. Hungry daedra, incompetent help and formidable foes.

Ulyne must have been young. After all, there are bold warriors and there are old warriors. . . but there are no old bold warriors. Joan is blessed with the good sense and self-awareness to perhaps become an old warrior some day.

It will be interesting to see if Joan returns to Vas and, if so, what kind of arrangements she makes to help ensure success.

Dang, Joan's been in Morrowind for close to a year now! How time flies when you're trudging through ash.

I know I've commented on this before, but I still love how you incorporate all of the game's oddities, like NPCs not reacting to a monster in their midst, or using canned dialogue. It adds to the feel of being in a very strange place.

Likewise, marching around the islands means walk on water of some kind is invaluable. I'd forgotten this until I tried playing a character who didn't have any trained alteration. Swimming is not fun. Slaughterfish are even less fun.

Plenty in Morrowind will tell you to retreat from a fight that's above your level, and Joan's clever enough to act on that. The Armiger either wasn't, or didn't have time to. But dedicated crusader that she is, I suspect Joan's only going to get stronger and come back to finish the job.

Hello, how is everyone doing this Xmas season? Today's story will probably be the last one for a while, as I'm going to be needing to take a break as the holidays get nearer.

Chances are I'll continue writing Joan's tale silently, because I'm currently too addicted to Morrowind to just give it up! Not just with Joanie, but also I've still been gaming with two others: Ana Khannda (dark elf archer doing Thieves Guild and Hlaalu) and my new Nordic gal, Fay Daway. She'll probably mostly stick to Mages Guild, maybe I'll put some mod-added quests in for her.

Thanks you all, and here's the final Joan of 2022. Have some cake.


@WellTemperedClavier: Yes, well in Earth time I've been gaming with Joan since spring of 2021, in her world it's been about half a year. Last Seed (when the game begins) is August, I think. And now she's up to Sun's Dawn, which is February. Yup, almost half a year.

Thanks, and yea, that habit of "what they say/do is what goes into the story" sort of goes back to the very first table gaming. I recently learned that when Gary Gygax and his pals began gaming, they'd use figureines. Whatever the figureine had in their hands is what they'd use in-game. So if a knight-figure visually had a halberd, this is what he'd carry as Gary would roll with him in the game. I'm pretty sure that's how me pals in high school also approached it. I think that's where that comes from The NPC says or does this, and so this is what goes into the story, that is.

In Laprima's tale, and also with my Fallout gal Vicious, it's just a higher-evolved version. I still write mostly what they say, but a lot of time their words are from one of my homemade quests. Although I do also incorporate more imagination here and there. Got to, sometimes!

Yeah, slaughterfish suck! 🦈 And yes, she's going to finish the job, eventually she will. Daris's ass is grass.


@Acadian: it's too bad you never played Morrowind (right?) Then again, it is a very clunky game. It's very awkward to watch your character hit an enemy for instance, and nothing happened because really they missed. I know you've played Baldur's Gate, but that's not really the same. In BG everything is turn-based. In Arena, Daggerfall, and Morrowind though, combat is real-time, yet it also behaves like an old turn-based game. If your character misses during BG, at least you pause the game, and strategize what to do next.

I get the feeling that Ulyne was young, yes. *nods* Probably slightly more experienced than Joan, but perhaps hadn't as much real-world experience. I feel sort of bad (and Joan really feels bad) about how that turned out. Been wondering how that could have been done better. Should have kept the Armiger solely in that initial room for instance, rather than telling her to follow.

Then again, those NPCs often do what they want, anyway. Still though...


@SubRosaFlorens: That's an enjoyable phrase to write, right? "She turned and walked out of The End Of The World." Or walked into it.

I'm also glad you caught that, too. She summoned a ghost to fight a rat! Overkill for sure, but up against some bonelords, her Ancestral Ghost might as well been a paper hat.


@MacoleVampireHunter: Using Intervention scrolls, there's always that mixed feeling of "phew, gotten out of that situation", but also "GRRRRARARA!!!" Like, I just want to b34t some t00nz!

But yes, Joanie is always well-prepared, that's an ingrained habit for sure. I wonder what would happen if Joan and Jandaga met. Joanie's based loosely on Joan of Arc; how would she react if coming upon the Psychedelic Warrior. ☮

Chapter XXXIX - The Calling of Arkay

31 Morning Star (Day 169) to 4 Sun's Dawn (Day 173)


During this time, Joan spends a couple days in Gnisis. She attempts to restock her supply of potions and rations, before giving up and heading off to Ald'ruhn. With over 300 gold in her possession, she's hoping to purchase at least ten potions of healing, magic-restoration, magical-resistance, paralyzation-curing, and so on.

Unfortunately, Gnisis does not have its own Mages Guild, nor is there any sort of magical shop to be found. The chaplain of Fort Darius sells a few items, but they're weaker stuff: potions sold for a bargain, or for cheap. The sort of libations one would quaff after a meager fight with an alit, perhaps.

If she were to be entirely honest though, the crusader from Cyrodiil had become impatient. She'd been bested by a lowlife patron of foulness who dwells within darkness, and now she's in a hurry to get back and defeat him. It took maybe a day for her to realize this, as she shopped and prayed within Gnisis. Once she sees the situation more clearly, she comes to the conclusion that it'd be bad strategy for her to quickly head back to the isle of Vas. Not every foe can be beaten right away. The necromancer known as Daris Adram lives remotely, with little chance of harming innocents. Vas's nearest main Sheogorad inhabitation, Joan notes, happens to be Dagon Fel, whose residents hadn't even heard of Daris. Perhaps it'd be better for her to wait a bit. Gather her wits, before rushing into a series of traps and bad decisions.

She forces herself to slow down. Makes some plans. She decides to walk to Ald'ruhn, where there'd at least be a Mages Guild to visit. She'd also be able to gather all the potions and medicines she could carry, and mostly for free.

Still, Joan finds herself overcome with guilt concerning the death of Ulyne Henim, the Tribunal Armiger she'd literally just met. Henim had been waiting outside of Vas when Joan arrived. They had sparred a bit, comparing each other's fighting styles. They even practiced their methods of warfare on a rabid rat, before stalking into the tower, defeating that skeleton.

Joan's incredibly saddened by this. She feels regret. What could have been done to prevent the Armiger's death? Was she at least partially responsible for Henim's demise?

Maybe it's the fact that things were going so well, at first. Several others had been lost at Joan's side over the past few months: two Imperial guards, one Imperial archer, Jub the orc adventurer, and finally, the Argonian she'd met in Molag Amur, who'd been stranded by that ash storm. All of these folks had willingly followed her, unknowing their fates were soon to come. But for some reason, the crusader cannot get her latest fallen companion out of her mind.

"...And Ulyne, though she attacked with valiance, apparently had not the forethought to temper her assault within the tower, for the menaces of Vas were too great for the both of us to besiege," Joan confessed at one point to Chaplain Ogrul, Fort Darius's priest. "I... found myself choosing to spare myself. Perhaps was this the way of the coward?" she asked the priest, facing the truth head on. "Perhaps. But, it was my presence of mind that one must also divert oneself at such times. To fight another day, as the saying goes."

"Your actions show promise," Ogrul answered, apparently unsure of what to say. Not all big, burly orcs command battlefields, after all. Some of them maintain shrines for the Imperials. Or run their own bookstores. But, maybe due to the average orc's upbringing within Orismer culture (in which such traits as aggression and intimidation are often preferred), sensitive words aren't as likely. "Fight well!"

"I wish to," Joan admitted. "'Tis why I am in such a frenzy to make my return. I feel I must avenge the falling of my short-lived comrade."

Every wager of warfare, when he or she took up whichever oath or cause or calling was placed upon their shoulders, also knew that one of the outcomes of such a cause could possibly be their ultimate demise. When it came to combat, the phrase 'every man for himself' often did apply. Sure, it was pertinent for armies and factions to fight together, to assist one another. But ultimately, each individual also claimed his or her own responsibility, when it came to mistakes and mishaps, such as what just occurred up in Vas. In some cases, things did not go as planned.

Perhaps it was due to this way of thinking that Joan did not experience much remorse when her earlier travelers had lost their lives. The guards she'd persuaded to leave their posts, they'd come with her knowing (it was assumed) they could someday meet their fates. Same went for the orc she'd hired just outside of Molag Mar. He had joined for typical reasons: eager to find gold, adventure, and fame. Yet he'd also fallen, despite referencing all his past accomplishments.

Joan had called for the final rites of each of them, hoping to send them off into the afterlife with dignity. It was the best she could do, considering her faith. But that was all. These others had joined her, they'd fought by her side, they'd eventually succumbed to final destinies. And Joan Marie, former acolyte of Arkay's temple in Cheydinhal? - In each case, she had moved on.

For some reason, the death of Ulyne Henim is different. For some reason, the need for contemplation concerning Ulyne's death is great, is in fact necessary.





She walks from Gnisis to Ald'ruhn, weather fair and sun shining bright, Joan finds herself musing upon the role of the Gods in her daily life. As a youngster she'd not really put much absolute thought into making these sorts of choices. You hurt yourself, whether through lost love or the sting of a bee? - You called for Mara. You felt you needed redemption or justice of some kind; perhaps somebody had wronged you? - You hoped for intervention from Julianos, perhaps. You wished to perform well as you traded a shipment of cockles? - That would be Zenithar. Overall, the presence of each of these Aedra had permeated Joan's life in small ways during her upbringing; perhaps a night's dream here, a daily set of inspirations there.

But now, as she walks upon the road to Ald'ruhn, hoping to find a signpost that'll guide her there without drama, but finding herself momentarily lost! once again, Joan understands that it's Arkay who's become the most prominent deity of her daily life.

Arkay, son of Akatosh. 'Lord of the Wheel of Life', 'God of the Circle of Life and Death'. Arkay's domain includes funerals, last rites, and many of the very things the crusader happens to be participating in on a near-daily basis.

"Arkay..." the crusader from Cheydinhal muses as she walks along, lost in thought. Pondering the path before her. Conclusions begin to be drawn. She can almost sense the bearded man portrayed upon the stained-glass windows of her hometown chapel, walking along with her. Looking over her. Guiding her notions, directing her towards the fate of others past, and others future. Joan ponders and wonders...

But now is not the time.

"Youuu s'wit!!!"

As a nearby brigand comes clambering down from one side (brandishing his polearm to threatening effect), and a nix hound comes bounding from another (thinking the two-legged female-person striding nearby will make a nice afternoon meal before sundown), Joan Marie the Crusader from Cheydinhal grabs for her magical mace.

- Crash! Bang! Smash! -

Pretty soon the fight will be over. No doubt Joan'll be the victor. While somewhere unseen, the Lord of the Wheel of Life shall claim yet one more.

Joan licks her wounds, mourns fallen comrades, and begins preparations anew.

I liked Joan's self-reflection through this dark night of the soul, and how of all the Divines, she now turns to Arkay. Now we see the first hints of how she will eventually gain her title "of Arkay".

Crash! Boom! Bam! Joan sends Arkay another soul for the wheel. That was a nice ending.

No, I never did play Morrowind. I started TES with Oblivion in 2007 and quickly joined the BethSoft forums where I learned from all the Morrowelitists that Morrowind the the Three’s gift to gaming and that Oblivion was a dumbed down inferior excuse for a game. Well. . . I was actively playing Oblivion and thought it was a great game. So, naturally, I discounted the Morrowelitists completely.

I loved Joan’s reflections upon those who followed and trusted her but did not return. They were all qualified to make their own choices. I assume a Tribuanal Armiger is not without significant training to bear that title. What seems different in the loss of Ulyne though is that the fatal encounter did not ultimately result in victory. That Joan retreated rather than face the same fate as Ulyne. Such things are good to ponder but I am confident that Joan’s more measured and prudent approach to battles is the wise path. That does not lesson one’s grief for fallen comrades though.

Buffy empathizes well with Joan regarding finding the right ‘fit’ when it comes to a Divine patron. Arkay does indeed seem a good fit for Joan. I like how you punctuate that at the very end with an attack along the road.

I had the same arc with Oblivion and Morrowind. I did eventually buy Morrowind when it was on sale however, just to see what it was like. I was not impressed. It is no accident that now whenever I get a hankering to travel to Vvardenfell, I do so via Morroblivion.

You know, it's funny: I actually ended up doing the quest in Vas.

It's surprisingly hard given it's the first quest in its chain, though maybe they assume you've already done some FG quests in Balmora. I couldn't keep Ulyne alive, either, though I didn't exactly feel guilty about it--she charged so far ahead, that there was no way for me to keep her alive.

But this is an interesting moment of introspection for Joan. Her quest on Vvardenfell gave her a certain level of forward momentum, but you can only do that for so long before it catches up with you and you have to actually think about things. She knew combat was part of her vocation, but she might not have reckoned with how it'd affect her farther down the line.

Also interesting how her focus on the Divines changes. Polytheism feels pretty abstract to me, but her development does make sense. Different gods might appeal more at different stages of life.

As for feeling better, the chaplain did his best but his Morrowind-style dialogue just isn't well-suited for consolation, alas.